Page 20 of Whiskers and Wiles

Headland stared at Waldorf for a long moment before saying, “This is not over.” He then turned and marched back down the hall, leaving Waldorf and Kat alone.

Six

Nothingabout the evening had gone as planned. But somehow, perhaps miraculously, Kat seemed to have accomplished her mission. When she left the ladies in the parlor, enjoying tea after supper, Lady Thistlewhite, Mrs. Bowman, and the others had been discussing what they might wear to Lady Ryman’s ball so as to appear polite without seeming to endorse Lady Ryman’s beliefs too much. That was a success.

But the humiliation Kat felt she had experienced at Waldorf’s hands was simply too much. He had been a boor and an oaf. He had challenged her when he should not, although doing so had reminded her of the exciting sparring matches they had once had across supper tables with their friends at Oxford, and he had…he had….

He had supported her mission, helped her to make Lady Ryman’s ball seem appealing. She doubted he knew what he was doing or the importance of it, but he had helped. Knowing that, seeing that purpose through the morass of bad behavior he’d also exhibited, filled Kat with uncertainty and awakened long-dormant feelings.

“If you will excuse me, Lady Thistlewhite,” she said, setting aside her tea and rising. “I seem to have developed something of a headache, and though I have greatly enjoyed your hospitality this evening, I fear it is time for me to return home.”

“Oh, dear,” Lady Thistlewhite said, rising to escort Kat to the parlor door. “I hope it is nothing we have done. This evening’s conversation has been rather…lively.”

“I can assure you that it is nothing you have done or failed to do.” Kat smiled to reassure the woman. “I believe it is the weather.”

They’d reached the door, and suddenly, as if he had been lying in wait there, Lord Headland appeared and said, “You must allow me to drive you home, Lady Katherine.”

Twin feelings of alarm and anger rose up in Kat. She peeked slightly at Lady Thistlewhite, loath to cause more trouble for the woman, especially now that she had been pointed in the right direction politically, then marched straight past Lord Headland.

“No, sir. I do not need your assistance, as I have told you multiple times,” she said, walking as fast as she dared.

“I insist,” Lord Headland said as they walked past a small study.

Minutes later, Kat was uncertain whether it was a bit of luck that she had passed that study or if it only caused more trouble. Lord Headland would not take no for an answer, but then Waldorf became involved, muddling everything further. She was forced to accept Waldorf’s offer to drive her home over Lord Headland’s, though she did not feel any safer with Waldorf, the Thistlewhites’ butler went off to have Waldorf’s carriage called around, and Waldorf and Lord Headland faced each other down as if they were mortal enemies in some sort of Arthurian legend.

“Your presence is no longer required,” Waldorf growled at Lord Headland. “Go away.”

“This is not over,” Lord Headland said, glaring at Waldorf, then staring at Kat with such intensity that if Kat did not feel herself to be a woman of strength and resilience already, she might have been genuinely afraid.

Lord Headland did leave, however, and Waldorf’s carriage appeared to whisk them away with surprising speed.

“I would have managed the situation on my own,” she told Waldorf as the two of them hurried out through the light rain that had begun sometime during the supper.

“I am certain you would have,” Waldorf said as he helped her into the warm, dry carriage. “But at what cost?”

Kat scowled at that statement as she settled herself into the farthest corner of Waldorf’s conveyance. She did not want to contemplate how far Lord Headland might go to secure her compliance with whatever it was he wanted. It was fairly clear what he wanted. He’d wanted the same thing years ago, and he’d forced a kiss on her in public as a way to obtain it. How much more of himself would he force upon her now, now that he was older and bolder, and people would not care so much what fate befell a spinster.

“You could at least admit—” Waldorf began.

“Do not speak to me,” Kat said holding up a hand to silence him. “Do not speak one word to me between here and the Oxford Society Club.”

“Fair enough,” Waldorf grumbled.

He crossed his arms and settled into his seat beside her, making a point of not touching so much as her skirt. Kat clasped her hands in her lap, using the brim of her bonnet, which she’d retrieved and donned while Waldorf’s carriage had been brought around, to block her face from Waldorf entirely.

They stayed that way, both bristling with new feelings and old, for several minutes. Holding onto such frustration and upset did nothing for Kat’s digestion, however. The fireof her initial anger slowly turned to sullen, burning embers. Underneath those was the misery of knowing that, had their lives turned out some other way, she and Waldorf might be enjoying a pleasant carriage ride home while they spoke and laughed about the foibles of the company they’d just kept.

Kat’s mood had flattened entirely by the time the carriage pulled to an inexplicable stop in the middle of a busy street in the heart of London.

“What is the delay?” Waldorf called up to his driver, opening the carriage window closest to him as he did. By his tone, he was just as unsettled as Kat was.

“The theater, my lord,” the driver called back to him. “Play’s just let out. The street ahead of us is a crush of carriages.”

“Can you back up and go the other way?”

They jostled a bit, but barely moved.

“Sorry, m’lord,” the driver called. “We’re blocked in now. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

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