Page 23 of The Duke
“Is that it?” Celine snorted when Kate had been silent too long. “I thought you would grab me by the arm and march me back to my room. I intended to enjoy it.”
“Have I not complied?” she said, her voice burning. “Am I not making every effort of money and influence to get you what you want? You will allow me a measure of peace, madam.”
Celine made a small, derisive sound from her nose and said, “That’s not up to you.”
Kate had learned a number of early, brutal lessons about keeping her own counsel, about expecting no quarter, about defending what was hers at all costs. But Celine held the most difficult, vulnerable piece of her past, and Kate was helpless against her.
She felt a violent desire to extinguish the threat physically.How dare this woman— And yet, such was the nature of blackmail. This woman dared, and Kate must allow it, until the moment Celine pushed her too far.
Given the particular letter Celine had in her possession, Kate was uncertain shecouldbe pushed too far.
“What do you want?” she said grimly.
“Just to talk.”
She moved aside to allow Celine to enter the study, because she must. Because, incredibly, the balance of power between them fell to Celine. Did Celine have a copy of the letter on her even now? Kate’s heart pounded, blindly reaching for the thing that had been lodged in her since she was a child.
Just inside the doorway, Celine turned to her and said, “Who’s the dashing woman downstairs? I spied on her for ages and she barely moved. I think she’s napping, but maybe she’s dead.”
Good Lord,Royce. Kate had told Shaw to dismiss Roycethis morning and hadn’t thought of her again since. Royce had waited all this time? She said sharply, “You didn’t speak to her, did you?”
“I thought about it. She looked lonely and sad. And extremely parched.”
What a fanciful portrayal of the Marquess of Royston, the most shameless rake in all London. “She’s been here for some time, though it was made perfectly clear I wouldn’t see her today.”Or any day.
“Who is she?” Celine asked with more interest.
She said curtly, “That is the worst person in London. Nobody could be more dangerous to your fledgling reputation. She’s the antithesis of everything you’re here to achieve, and you will stay away from her.”
The thought of Celine and Royce anywhere near each other was bloodcurdling.
Celine made a humming sound of interest, and Kate realised suddenly how close they stood to each other. Awfully, she could feel the heat from Celine’s body. She slipped out of the doorway and went to the sideboard, where she poured herself a generous glass of whisky.
After the briefest hesitation, Celine sauntered into the study after her, then hoisted herself up to sit on the desk, bare feet swinging. She was braced forward on her arms, and the neck of the nightgown gaped a little, revealing the bruise where Kate had pinched her last night.
Kate felt a perverse thump of interest deep in her stomach.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Celine pursed her lips, as though deciding how to begin. “You have gone to some effort in finding me a husband,” she said at last, “but I think you know I’d prefer to marry a woman. My own lady wife to drive me about the park when I’m grey.”
The image startled her. Celine, in London. Celine, grey and still beautiful. “If you want to marry nobility, it’ll have to be a man. I had assumed those were your aspirations.”
Celine’s brows drew down. “A lord would suit me very well, but why can’t she be a woman?”
“Aside from your lack of name, title, and country? There are fewer female lords than male, and none who can afford to marry you, even with your twenty thousand pounds.”
“What about you, then? Will you marry a man?”
“I won’t marry.”
“Why not?”
How to explain it in a way that didn’t sound deranged?Because I’m a monster? Because I burn everything I love to the ground?
“Marriage wouldn’t suit me. This is what you came to tell me? That you wish to marry a woman?” There were few enough independently wealthy women, never mind those who wanted a wife. “It narrows your choices considerably, and you’ll have to give up on a title. It could take time.”
Celine looked down, and the only part of her expression Kate could make out was the depression of her lip where she was biting it. Perhaps—why did the thought ache?—perhaps Celine was truly looking for love. But when Celine at last looked up, Kate could see the words had worked their magic.A title.She laughed. “No, I see a title is worth more to you than happiness.”
