For Love of the Duke(46)

Katherine took a step backwards, placing distance between them. She yearned for the gentleman who’d given her the last copy of Wordsworth’s volume. Not this…not this…coolly mocking stranger.

Ultimately, her desire to know the secrets of his past won out. She took a deep breath. “What happened to your wife?”





~15~



Ahh, so there was the bold-spirited, inquisitive woman he’d come to anticipate since their meeting at the Frost Fair.

Since he’d entered the parlor, she’d eyed him with that wariness he’d come to expect from members of Society. Not her. Not Katherine.

Jasper stalked over to the corner of the room and pulled back the curtains to peer down into the bustling London streets. Something about that hesitancy in her brown eyes, the shade of disapproval in her tone did something to him. He gripped the edge of the window sill. Goddamn him for caring.

“I must say, I’m still disappointed, Katherine.”

From the glass windowpane he detected the nervous manner in which she shifted upon her feet. “Your Grace?”

With her telltale reactions, Katherine conveyed her every unspoken word and emotion; she’d be wise to avoid any gaming table.

He turned around slowly to face her. “Surely you intend to ask the question?”

Her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic slowness. She met his gaze squarely. “And what question is that, Jasper?”

A mirthless laugh burst from his chest, bitter and angry to his own ears. “Come now, Katherine. Surely you’re curious enough to ask the question of the man you’ll wed. Do you wonder as to the truth of the rumors? Did the Mad Duke truly kill his wife?"

Katherine shook her head quickly. “I don’t listen to gossip, Jasper.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I know you aren’t capable of hurting anyone.”

He’d killed Lydia as if he’d plunged a dagger through her heart.

Bitter pain dug at his heart like a thousand rusty, jagged knives being applied to the deadened organ. Katherine’s tone and the directness of her gaze spoke to her conviction. Oh, how misguided she was in her faith. Guilford’s words trickled into his consciousness. A young lady would not brave your stern, miserable countenance if there were not feelings on her part.#p#分页标题#e#

The sooner he disabused his wife-to-be of any grand illusions of him, the better off they’d be.

“I fear you are wrong on that score, my lady.”

Katherine’s small, lithe frame stilled. Then, her arms fell to her side and hung there, awkwardly. “I don’t…” He took a step toward her. She wet her lips and went on. “I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” he said on a silken whisper. “Believe it?”

She glanced over her shoulder toward the closed door, and Jasper suspected she considered her escape. Good, Katherine, that is wise. You should turn on your heel and run as far and fast as your slippers will carry you from my miserable self. You’d have been fortunate to have any other gentleman rescue you that day at the Frost Fair.

Katherine looked back at him. “No, Jasper,” she said at last, with that same misplaced faith in him. “I don’t believe you killed your wife.”

“Oh, you would be wrong, my lady.” He reached a hand up, and captured one of those tight brown ringlets between his thumb and forefinger.

Katherine winced, as if his nearness caused her physical distress.

“Should I tell you of the blood and the screams?” he hissed.

Katherine swatted his hand away. “Stop it,” she commanded. She clamped her hands over her ears. “I do not believe you. If you do not want to wed me, then you should say as much. You shouldn’t tell these…these…great, horrific lies.” Her voice shook under the weight of her fear. It lit her eyes, and caused her lean limbs to tremble.

He circled her wrists with his hands and gently removed them from her ears. “They aren’t lies,” Jasper went on. If she wanted to wed him, then she should know what kind of monster she’d take for a husband.

Katherine’s breath came fast and heavy, as though she’d just run a good a distance. If she were wise, she would run a good distance away from this room, away from him.

She yanked her hands back, and for a brief moment he thought she might flee. He should have known better of his bold-spirited, indomitable Katherine.

She folded her arms across her chest, and tapped her foot in a fast, staccato rhythm upon the wood floor. “Well, then. Tell me the details, Jasper. I want to know. I deserve to know.”

Yes, she did. All of it.

“I loved my wife,” he said without preamble.