The woman looked at her in shocked silence. After a long moment, she sputtered, “I don’t think that’d be proper, my lady.”
Katherine laughed. “You may’ve noticed we don’t worry a great deal about what is proper. I think she’d enjoy a little time away from the schoolroom.” Smiling at the flustered nurse, she assured, “I’m sure we can handle a little egg and sausage. I’ll bring her back immediately after, I promise.”
“Of course, my lady,” she finally said with another curtsy.
Lowering the girl back to her feet, Katherine took her hand. “To the breakfast room, then?”
“Fweddie come, too?”
“I’ll lead the way,” her brother replied.
Not much later, they were all settled at the small dining table in the sunny yellow room with plates filled from the generous breakfast buffet. A footman had found a large, firm cushion to boost Claire higher in her seat, and Katherine sat close beside her, with Frederick taking a place across from them.
Assisting the little girl triggered a swift rush of memories to when Frederick had been the same age. Though they’d eaten in the schoolroom together, Katherine had always insisted on helping her brother with his utensils and, later, with his table manners. Looking up now, she grinned at the capable young man he’d become. She hadn’t done too bad a job in her devoted mothering of the boy.
“So, what occurred last night?” he asked. “You said the party was eventful.”
“It was, indeed,” she replied.
As her brother commenced to cleaning his plate and Katherine paused here and there to re-tuck Claire’s napkin or assist in capturing a particularly resistant piece of sausage, she related the events of the evening with a reasonable amount of detail.
By the end, her brother was surprisingly stoic.
“I’m sorry you were forced to go through that, Kit.”
She reached across the table with a shake of her head. “I’m not. Because now we know the face of our enemy. And he’s no longer a threat.”
“But Father’s journals are still missing.”
“True,” she said with a sigh as she straightened in her chair and looked at her brother with steady eyes. She couldn’t forget how Shelbourne had consistently used the word we when going on about his plot to force Frederick into recreating Father’s formula. “There is very clearly a broader picture to this story, which we’re not currently privy to. However, I think our cousin Warfield will soon be enlightening us.” She smiled tightly. “In fact, I’ve invited him to dinner tonight. I’ll leave it entirely up to you if you’d like to join us.”
Frederick’s expression was thoughtful, but he replied without hesitation, “I’d very much like to meet the new marquess. He’s the heir to Northmoor, after all. It’s important we get to know the man.”
Katherine couldn’t agree more.
SEVERAL MINUTES BEFORE the appointed hour, Katherine sat in the center of the sofa in the front parlor awaiting her dinner guests. Frederick was expected to be down soon, but for now, she was alone. She’d dressed in a new gown of seafoam green with violet trim. It was important the Blackwells made a strong impression, so she chose the most sophisticated dress she owned. As dinner tonight was intended to be a more formal affair than anything they’d had at the house before, she’d considered wearing a set of her mother’s jewels, but decided against it as she’d feel much more herself without them. Mason arrived first—as usual avoiding proper announcement by her butler. One moment, she was glancing anxiously about the room, and in the next, his impressive form was filling the doorway. Dressed in proper evening wear—including a dashing cravat—he took her breath away.
Rising to her feet, she tried to smile with a confident air but wasn’t sure she’d managed to pull it off as she recalled how he’d helped her to bed the night before and chose to leave though she’d asked him to stay. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
He grinned and her belly flipped. “I’ve learned to do as my duchess commands.”
She resisted a smile to arch her brow. “Is that so?”
His chuckle was deep. Warm.
“I hope Claire wasn’t too disappointed that you didn’t join her for dinner.”
“I did join her.” Then he lowered his head toward hers to whisper, “Healthy appetite, remember.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant the words to sound sensual and suggestive, but that was how her body took them as heat flowed through her.
Before she could respond, Foster appeared in the doorway. “Lord Blackwell, Marquess of Warfield, my lady.” The butler stepped aside as Warfield entered the room.
He was dressed all in black but for a white cravat, which appeared to be his common style even when he wasn’t spying. As he came forward into the room, his blue eyes slid to Mason first. The two men took each other’s measure with cool, assessing stares. Then Mason gave a short grunt as his mouth tilted in a cocky half grin.
The marquess turned away almost dismissively to greet Katherine with a proper bow. As he straightened, she offered a tempered smile. “Welcome, my lord. I’m pleased you were able to join us.”
Though he returned her smile, Warfield’s pale eyes remained indifferent. “Lady Katherine, I was under the impression your invitation didn’t allow optional attendance,” he replied in a voice that was all silk and velvet in texture though slightly rigid in tone.
Mason gave a snorting laugh, which earned a swift scowl from Katherine before she addressed the marquess with another smile. “An intuitive deduction, cousin. Please have a seat. We’re still waiting for my brother to join us. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Warfield gave a shallow nod. “As I am him.”
As she turned to lead the way to the arrangement of sofas and chairs, Katherine caught Mason’s fierce expression as he eyed the marquess. She gave him a quick frown of warning—do not make this any more uncomfortable than it already is—to which he responded with a subtle twisting smirk that assured her of nothing.
Though Warfield had once been suspect,
