The strawberries…
'Why are you telling me this?' She swallowed against a sudden swell of nausea.
The duke pursed his lips. 'For two reasons. First, I now perceive that I was mistaken. Your reaction to my grandmother's fall told me that you hold genuine affection for her, despite the fact that you share no blood connection. I am a proud man, Mrs. Mallory, but I know enough to admit when I am in the wrong.'
Kit rose, her entire body trembling. 'Do you mean to tell me that after all this, after bribing me, insulting me, and planning to ruin my life, you have had a sudden attack of conscience?'
His cold gray eyes seemed to look right through her. 'Call it what you will.'
'And your campaign to induce Her Grace to retire to the dower house? Was that part of your plan, as well?'
The duke did not flinch from her withering scorn. 'No. But after this accident, I do not know if my grandmother will be capable of prolonged travel. The dower house may hold more appeal for her.'
'I see. Very neat. And the second reason?'
'I fear my cousin still intends to follow through with his plan.'
A cold void opened in the pit of her stomach. 'What do you mean?'
'Even a connoisseur of beauty grows jaded over time, and seeks more… unusual avenues of diversion. Lord Bainbridge thinks you the antidote to his ennui, Mrs. Mallory, and will use you to amuse himself, no matter what the consequences.'
'You seem very sure of this, Your Grace.'
'I know my cousin.'
She tasted bile at the back of her throat. 'I see. Is there anything else you care to tell me?'
'Only that I owe you an apology.' Placing his hands on the desk, he slowly climbed to his feet.
'An apology?' A low, hollow laugh echoed from her throat. 'You astound me, Your Grace. After all you have done, I would not have thought you capable of any such thing.'
'You have it nonetheless. What more do you want?'
What did she want? She wanted to wake up from this nightmare! The situation, however, called for a more practical and immediate solution. Her lips thinned. 'I wish to leave Broadwell Manor. Leave, and never have the misfortune to cross paths with you again.'
A strange, enigmatic smile crossed the duke's thin features. 'What about my grandmother?'
'Dr. Knowles is confident of the dowager's recovery,' Kit stated. 'I leave knowing she is in competent hands.'
'But she will be most disappointed that you did not stay.'
Kit clenched her trembling hands in the folds of her skirt. 'You cannot expect to abuse me so thoroughly, Your Grace, and wish me to remain under your roof. Despite any disappointment Her Grace might feel, I am certain she will understand. I shall leave a note for her that explains the circumstances behind my departure.'
'There is no need,' the duke said quickly, coming out from behind his desk. 'I shall tell her myself, if it will spare you any pain.'
Kit put the full force of her loathing behind her stare. 'Do you fear any lack of discretion on my part, Your Grace, or is it that you know how your grandmother will react to your intrigues? You cannot keep the tale from her for long; she is more intelligent than you give her credit for. She will discover the truth eventually, even if I do not reveal it to her.'
The duke responded with a raised eyebrow. 'I thought I made it quite clear from the beginning that I expected you to hold our conversation in the strictest confidence.'
She bit her lip. 'So you did.'
'I would never dream of insulting my grandmother's intelligence, but I also do not wish to upset her during her convalescence. I had hoped you would share that sentiment.'
'Very well, Your Grace. I will not say anything to her until she has recovered. But I do intend to correspond with her while she is still here. I trust you will not interfere with the delivery of those letters.'
His lips twitched. 'Certainly not.'
'I would like your word on the matter.'
Anger flared in his eyes. 'I suppose you would try to find a way around me if I did not.'
'I may be only a Cit's widow, Your Grace, but I do not hold my honor as cheaply as you seem to hold yours, and I do not think you above reading your grandmother's correspondence.'
'Then you have my word, madam.'
'Thank you.' Kit gripped the back of her chair for support as the room began to waver around her.
'My dear Mrs. Mallory, you look unwell,' said the duke, suddenly solicitous. 'Should I ring for tea? Or would you prefer something stronger-a glass of sherry, perhaps?'
Kit gritted her teeth. 'All I require is the opportunity to depart this house with all due speed.'
'You would be better advised to stay the night and start your journey in the morning.'
She looked toward the window. The sun still hovered well above the horizon. 'In light of all you have told me, I am resolved to leave as quickly as possible.'
'Then I shall order my carriage brought around for you. That is the least I can do.'
She put a hand to her throat and steadied herself. 'Thank you, Your Grace-and yes, it is the very least you can do.'
The enigmatic smile still on his face, the duke offered to escort her back upstairs. Kit recoiled away from him when he reached out his hand to her. She opened the door and all but flew up the stairs to her room. Tears blurred her vision. A heavy weight pressed against her chest, making her gasp for breath.
Dear God. What a great fool she had been. After his attempt to bribe her, she should have known the duke would try another approach. But she had never expected anything like this! She should have been more careful, more guarded. Lord Bainbridge's attentions had seemed too good to be true; she should have seen right through him. But he had trapped her as neatly as a fly in a web, and to her everlasting shame, she had welcomed it.
She paused at the top of the stairs, one hand gripping the wrought-iron railing.
If only she had listened to her instincts: Lord Bainbridge had been too calculated in his charm. Still she had fallen prey to it and bared some of her most intimate secrets to him in the process. Not only that, but her wanton response to his touch, his embrace, his every method of seduction, had only served to encourage him. In a few more days, she would have willingly surrendered her honor to a man who had none.
Images from the past week tormented her. The blazing kiss they had shared in the gallery. The marquess laughing with Emma and Nathaniel beneath the tree by the lake. The strawberries. God, she would never be able to eat strawberries again without remembering the silky feel of his mouth against her skin. And the tender way he had held her, comforted her after news of the dowager's injury, only hours ago. Every touch, every caress, every laugh was seared in her memory.
What a simpleton she had been!
She flung herself through her chamber door, slammed it shut, then collapsed with her back against it.
The tumult sent Lakshmi rushing out of the dressing room. She took one look at Kit's face and murmured a quick prayer in her native tongue. Then she hurried to Kit's side and gently pulled her away from the door. 'Memsahib-oh, Memsahib, what has happened?'
'We are leaving, Lakshmi,' Kit said flatly. 'Pack our things.'
'The duchess-memsahib-she has not?…' The maid's ebony eyes were saucers full of worry.
Kit shook her head. 'No, she will be fine, but we cannot stay. Please, Lakshmi-no more questions. Just get us packed as quickly as possible.'
'As you wish.' The maid pressed her palms together, then glided to the wardrobe and began removing the clothing from its depths.
Kit, her knees still shaking, went to her writing desk and gathered her books from its surface. She glanced at the clock. As impossible as it was to believe, she had been kissing Nicholas-Lord Bainbridge-in the folly only a few hours ago. It felt like a lifetime. With a muttered oath, she set aside the books. Then she sat down, drew out a sheet of vellum, and began a note to the dowager duchess.
What would she write to Her Grace? That despite Kit's own instincts, she had fallen in love with a rake? A man who had played her like a trout on a line? Kit sighed and dipped her pen in the inkwell. No. For the moment, all she would say was that however much she regretted having to leave the dowager's side, she must return to Bath and
