Page 4 of Whiskers and Wiles

“And you are a whore!” Waldorf snapped in return.

The only thing that kept Kat from slapping him, hopefully to slap sense into him, was the genuine hurt in his eyes. He believed the lies he’d been told, and they had wounded him to the core.

Kat was hurt, too, though. “How dare you not believe me when I tell you I am true?” she seethed. “Do you think so little of me? Or are you simply stupid?”

“How dare you question my intelligence?” Waldorf gasped.

“How dare you question my fidelity?” Kat snapped at him in return.

“I will not stand here and be insulted,” Waldorf bellowed. “Good day, madam.”

“Get out of my sight!” Kat shouted, pointing to the door. A small voice within her whispered that now was not the time to let her anger get the better of her, but she was too wounded by the callousness of the man she thought loved her more than any other to listen to it.

Waldorf glared at her one last time, then turned and marched out of the room. As he left, Kat’s ferocious gaze turned to Mary. Mary yelped and hurried out of the room, looking as guilty as sin as she did.

Once she was alone in the room, all of Kat’s fight and bravado left her. She burst into tears, slumping to the side and sitting heavily on one of the room’s settees. She’d never fought with Waldorf before, not like that. They’d had their little disagreements from time to time, but nothing serious. And yes, Muriel was forever telling her that she was too impetuous and hot-tempered. Bernadette had observed once or twice that Waldorf was a bit young for his age, particularly as he chose to associate with students at Oxford when he was approaching thirty himself.

That voice of reason in Kat’s mind warned her that both she and Waldorf were young, and that both of them were likely equally foolish. She didn’t want to hear that voice, though. She merely wanted to cry and rage and vent her emotions as loudly and fiercely as she could.

Except when Cromwell, the house’s cat, entered the room and leapt onto the settee with her. He seemed to sense Kat’s upset and came to her purring.

“Oh, Cromwell,” Kat lamented, pouring everything into her tears as she pet the sweet, soft thing.

Cromwell nudged his head against her leg, encouraging her to pet him more.

“You are the only true man in the world,” Kat wept. “You and your like.”

Cromwell merely purred harder, rubbing his face against her side.

As if to prove her words to Cromwell, Lord Headland’s quiet, “Oh, Lady Katherine, I am so sorry,” sounded from the doorway to the hall.

Kat jerked straight and snapped her head up to glare at the bastard.

“I’ve just heard,” Lord Headland said, dripping with false sincerity as he entered the room. “Allow me to comfort you in your hour of need.”

Kat rushed to her feet, displacing Cromwell, who hissed at Lord Headland, proving that he was wise as well as affectionate. “Do not come near me,” Kat warned Lord Headland.

Lord Headland ignored her. “This is, of course, a trying time for you,” he said. “But rest assured, I will not forsake you in your hour of need. My offer of marriage stands and always will. We will be married before the end of June, and?—”

Lord Headland made the fatal error of stepping to within arm’s reach of Kat and reaching for her. Kat reached back to him, but only so that she could gain purchase and sway near enough to him to do exactly as she’d promised before. She brought her knee crashing up into his groin so hard and so precisely that Lord Headland let out a cry that would wake the dead.

The blackguard doubled over as soon as Kat stepped back, clutching his bruised pride and eventually sinking to his knees. He groaned and gasped, as if the pain were so great he had trouble catching his breath.

“Do not ever come anywhere near me again,” Kat seethed, her anger hotter than any fire ever could be. “I do not wish to see you, or Waldorf, or any other man who thinks they canmaster me ever again for the rest of my life. You are all liars and deceivers, and I want nothing at all to do with any of you.”

Lord Headland could only crumple forward, rocking as he protected his wounded delicates.

Kat didn’t care whether he answered or not. She didn’t care if Waldorf ever saw sense. She took a large step, walking over Lord Headland and into the hall.

“Come along, Cromwell,” she said, calling to the one creature who had shown her kindness and sympathy when she needed it. “You can help me pack my things. I am leaving this house and its deceitful staff tonight, and I’m taking you with me.”

She vowed to herself that she would always take what she wanted, from that day forward, and she would never forgive Waldorf Godwin for breaking her heart beyond repair.

One

LONDON – OCTOBER, 1816

Lord Waldorf Godwinhad a great many regrets in his life, some due to his own actions and some because of things that were beyond his control. He regretted that he was forced to spend so much time away from his family as he worked in the service of King Swithin III of Wessex. He regretted that, as a cousin to the royal family, he was forced to spend so much time in the presence of men he disliked.

---