Page 15 of Whiskers and Wiles

Lord Headland stopped, looking genuinely surprised. “I beg your pardon?” He blinked, then shifted slightly to the side, near to one of the chairs, like he would sink casually into it for an ordinary conversation.

Kat immediately trembled with rage. She had not seen the bastard except in passing while about her business in London since the day that ruined her life. She wanted nothing at all to do with the man now and was sorely tempted to leave at once.

The only problem was that her queen had set a specific mission for her, she had just discovered an opening to engage Lady Thistlewhite in conversation about an interest she shared with Lady Ryman, and the possibility of succeeding at her task was extremely high.

But only if she stayed right where she was, in the presence of the one person she despised more than Waldorf.

“I have no wish to speak with you, sir,” Kat snapped, tilting her chin up imperiously. “You destroyed something precious to me once. You destroyed my very life.”

Lord Headland blinked rapidly, looking shocked. “I cannot imagine what you mean, my lady,” he said. “I know our acquaintance at Oxford ended abruptly and under unfortunate circumstances, but I do not understand these accusations of?—”

“Do not be false with me, sir,” Kat hissed. “You will do yourself no favors by feigning innocence. You pursued me, I rejected you, and you made me pay for it.”

The bastard continued to appear baffled. “I cannot imagine what you might mean by that, my lady,” he said, taking a step toward her.

Kat stepped back, holding up her hand to him in warning.

She immediately regretted the move, however. It made her appear weaker and gave him the upper hand.

“You know what you did,” she said, keeping her voice low out of fear that she would scream if she did not keep herself underperfect control. “And all because you could not countenance being rejected by the object of your affection.”

“I was not rejected by the object of my affection,” Lord Headland said, still feigning innocence, but with a harder edge. “I was wed to my sweet Caroline less than a year after leaving Oxford.”

Kat narrowed her eyes. Now that she thought of it, she did recall hearing Lord Headland had married. Not that it erased what the man had done.

No sooner had she begun to let her guard down and ease her suspicion of Lord Headland when the blackguard said, “Alas, my poor Caroline breathed her last this past winter. I am a humble widower now.”

On the surface, his words were the sort that invited sympathy, but the covetous way he looked at her as he announced his wife’s death left Kat’s skin crawling.

All the same, she was forced by propriety to say, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“As am I,” Lord Headland said, daring to take another step closer to her.

It took everything Kat had to resist the urge to step back from him or to flee. She had to maintain her appearance of strength, though. She had to endure this trial so that she might succeed in her mission for her queen.

“I am not certain I enjoy being a widower,” Lord Headland said, coming closer to her still, the light in his eyes growing hotter. “I do not think the state suits me.” He paused, almost close enough to Kat now to reach out for her, then said. “I understand that you never married, Lady Katherine?”

Fury and panic mingled in Kat’s gut. She could see at once that it did not matter how much time had passed or what sort of marriage Lord Headland had enjoyed for nearly twenty years, his intentions toward her had not changed.

“I have not married by choice, sir,” she said, keeping her chin up and her shoulders squared. “I have never met a man who I consider my equal.”

“No, I cannot imagine you would,” Lord Headland said, sweeping her body with a lascivious look. “I cannot imagine that anyone is your equal, Lady Katherine.”

His words were pretty enough, but they left Kat feeling soiled and prickly. Lord Headland had not improved at all with age. In fact, age seemed to have given him an additional boldness that he had not possessed before.

“We should renew our acquaintance, Lady Katherine,” he went on, taking yet another step toward her. It left her easily within his reach, but Kat refused to be cowed. “I would like very much to call upon you, now that we are both in London.”

“No, sir,” Kat said, meeting and holding his eyes firmly. “I do not wish to see you, now or ever. I will not accept you if you call on me, I will not agree to a dance if we should ever meet at a ball, and I will not ever consider renewing any sort of acquaintance with you.”

“You cannot possibly mean that,” Lord Headland laughed. “A spinster like you should be grateful that a man of good character and good fortune should deign to notice you.”

Kat’s eyes flared with anger. “Would you like to renew your acquaintance with my knee, sir?” she asked.

Lord Headland’s eyes went suddenly wide with remembered pain, and he stepped back, his posture reflecting a pose intended to protect his assets.

The movement did not come soon enough, however.

“What is the meaning of this?”

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