that I have no desire to answer.”
“Farthingham and I have been friends for a long time. I have an enormous amount of respect for him, and I know him extremely well. He is not the man for you, Kitty.”
Although she stiffened, she continued to waltz with grace, but fire had returned to the green depths of her eyes. “Of all the arrogant…to presume to know who is and who isn’t right for me—”
“I do not who is. I only know that he is not.”
“You insufferable lout. You call yourself his friend, and here you are questioning his judgment—”
“Not his. Yours.”
She made a motion to move away from him, and he tightened his hold on her, keeping her in place. “You and I need to go someplace where we can talk in privacy.”
She shook her head. “No, we don’t. You’re right to question my judgment, but not where Farthingham is concerned. Rather where you are concerned. I showed extremely bad judgment in returning to that cove where I’d spotted you the morning before, worse in remaining once I realized you were there. Our time on the rocky coast is best forgotten. Farthingham is my future.”
Unfortunately for him, the final strains of the waltz drifted on the air, shimmered through the room, ending any opportunity he might have had to argue in his defense, leaving him with no excuse to continue holding her. As a gentleman, he had no choice except to release her and step back.
Because too much remained to be said, neither spoke as he escorted her back to Farthingham, who was grinning as though he’d recently won the America’s Cup.
“By Jove, you two hardly stopped chattering. Bodes well for a friendship developing, I should think,” Farthingham said.
“The duke and I have little in common,” she said softly, her attention on Farthingham.
“On the contrary. You should see his yacht. Kitty loves sailing, don’t you, my sweet?”
“I’ll love being your wife more.”
Farthingham beamed at her response, and Richard could hardly blame the man. Her devotion was quite convincing, and a part of him feared that it might also be quite honest and true.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Richard said, “I need to make the rounds.”
“Quite so,” Farthingham said. “It was good to see you again, Weddington.”
“And you.” He bowed slightly. “And it was my absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss Robertson. Thank you for honoring me with a dance.”
“I believe you owe your appreciation to Nicky.”
It didn’t escape his notice that she neither thanked him nor admitted it was a pleasure to have waltzed with him.
He made his excuses again and wended his way through the crowd, barely acknowledging those who acknowledged him, making certain not to make any motion toward anyone that would serve as an invitation to begin conversing with him.
He hardly knew the woman who had danced in his arms, who proclaimed her love for Nicholas Glenville, the Marquess of Farthingham. What a fool he was to have thought she was of a passionate nature. Elegant and lovely, but as were all American ladies, she was in want of a title. Willing to lie and pretend favor in order to achieve one.
Surely she would not have sought him out that morning by the sea if she truly loved Farthingham. But if she did not love him, why settle for him?
Perhaps because she did not know that she could marry Richard and become his duchess. He imagined her at his side forever.
It was where he wanted her. He had little doubt that she would be his easiest conquest yet. And beyond any doubt, she would be his most rewarding.
Chapter 5
W ith the draperies drawn so none of the glow from distant streetlights could enter, Kitty sat curled in a chair beside the window in the darkness of her bedroom, contemplating her wedding.
Her wedding to Farthingham. In whose arms she felt safe. Gazing into his blue eyes did not start a slow melting of her bones. His fingers closing over hers did not create a sensation of butterflies fluttering beneath
“Farthingham and I have been friends for a long time. I have an enormous amount of respect for him, and I know him extremely well. He is not the man for you, Kitty.”
Although she stiffened, she continued to waltz with grace, but fire had returned to the green depths of her eyes. “Of all the arrogant…to presume to know who is and who isn’t right for me—”
“I do not who is. I only know that he is not.”
“You insufferable lout. You call yourself his friend, and here you are questioning his judgment—”
“Not his. Yours.”
She made a motion to move away from him, and he tightened his hold on her, keeping her in place. “You and I need to go someplace where we can talk in privacy.”
She shook her head. “No, we don’t. You’re right to question my judgment, but not where Farthingham is concerned. Rather where you are concerned. I showed extremely bad judgment in returning to that cove where I’d spotted you the morning before, worse in remaining once I realized you were there. Our time on the rocky coast is best forgotten. Farthingham is my future.”
Unfortunately for him, the final strains of the waltz drifted on the air, shimmered through the room, ending any opportunity he might have had to argue in his defense, leaving him with no excuse to continue holding her. As a gentleman, he had no choice except to release her and step back.
Because too much remained to be said, neither spoke as he escorted her back to Farthingham, who was grinning as though he’d recently won the America’s Cup.
“By Jove, you two hardly stopped chattering. Bodes well for a friendship developing, I should think,” Farthingham said.
“The duke and I have little in common,” she said softly, her attention on Farthingham.
“On the contrary. You should see his yacht. Kitty loves sailing, don’t you, my sweet?”
“I’ll love being your wife more.”
Farthingham beamed at her response, and Richard could hardly blame the man. Her devotion was quite convincing, and a part of him feared that it might also be quite honest and true.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Richard said, “I need to make the rounds.”
“Quite so,” Farthingham said. “It was good to see you again, Weddington.”
“And you.” He bowed slightly. “And it was my absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss Robertson. Thank you for honoring me with a dance.”
“I believe you owe your appreciation to Nicky.”
It didn’t escape his notice that she neither thanked him nor admitted it was a pleasure to have waltzed with him.
He made his excuses again and wended his way through the crowd, barely acknowledging those who acknowledged him, making certain not to make any motion toward anyone that would serve as an invitation to begin conversing with him.
He hardly knew the woman who had danced in his arms, who proclaimed her love for Nicholas Glenville, the Marquess of Farthingham. What a fool he was to have thought she was of a passionate nature. Elegant and lovely, but as were all American ladies, she was in want of a title. Willing to lie and pretend favor in order to achieve one.
Surely she would not have sought him out that morning by the sea if she truly loved Farthingham. But if she did not love him, why settle for him?
Perhaps because she did not know that she could marry Richard and become his duchess. He imagined her at his side forever.
It was where he wanted her. He had little doubt that she would be his easiest conquest yet. And beyond any doubt, she would be his most rewarding.
Chapter 5
W ith the draperies drawn so none of the glow from distant streetlights could enter, Kitty sat curled in a chair beside the window in the darkness of her bedroom, contemplating her wedding.
Her wedding to Farthingham. In whose arms she felt safe. Gazing into his blue eyes did not start a slow melting of her bones. His fingers closing over hers did not create a sensation of butterflies fluttering beneath
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