Page 51 of Whiskers and Wiles

Again, Waldorf’s mind took a moment to catch up to the question. His heart pounded as he remembered that first sight of Kat. She’d been in some square or another, enjoying the autumn sunshine and expounding on some point of politics with her friends. She’d been so sure of herself and so bold in her opinions. She’d taken Waldorf’s breath away from the start.

“Yes,” he said, surprised by his own answer. “I think I did love her at first sight. I’d never met another woman like her. She was so intelligent and unafraid to show it. Later, I learned that her confidence and forthrightness had caused her family to disown her for not following their rules and dictates. That would have broken a lesser woman, but Kat used their rejection as fuel for her fire. She never backed down from any sort of challenge presented to her.”

“She sounds admirable indeed,” Walsingham said with a smile. That smile turned to a small frown. “But you are only just engaged now?”

Waldorf let out a breath, his body sagging. He took a gulp of his brandy before continuing with the story.

“We had a falling out. A bad one.” He glanced to Walsingham, then decided to leave Headland’s part in the storyout, partially to spare Lady Walsingham, and partially because the shame of allowing such a man to turn him from the best thing that had ever happened to him ran deep. “I was a damned fool, too young and impetuous to be trusted with something as precious as Kat. I believed a false report of her infidelity.”

“How awful,” Walsingham said, looking both disapproving and sympathetic. “How did you manage that?”

Waldorf shrugged. “The offending third party was a rival suitor. He was devilishly clever and secured the assistance of a maid that worked in Lady Katherine’s boarding house to plant false evidence against her.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, which felt strange since he’d shaved off his whiskers. “I was wrong,” he said quietly, “and I let my wrongness and my pride ruin the best thing in my life.”

Walsingham hummed and nodded sagely. “But the two of you have reconciled,” he said. “That is a wonderful thing. How did you manage that?”

The question pulled at every one of his heartstrings, causing a pit of longing to open in Waldorf’s gut. It was, of course, impossible for him to admit that they had not actually reconciled and that the mistakes of the past were still there. He had to come up with some sort of story, though, so he allowed himself to dream.

“It happened completely by chance,” he said, cradling his glass of brandy and staring at its contents as he wove his fantasy. “My cousin Alden recently married Kat’s dear friend, Lady Bernadette Attleborough.”

“Oh, yes, I know the family well,” Walsingham said. “There was some recent scandal with Lord Attleborough, but I cannot remember what is was, and I do not suppose it is important for this story.”

“No,” Waldorf said with a pretend laugh. He took a breath and went on. “Kat and I were forced into each other’s companyquite a bit during the wedding festivities. We were angry and combative with each other at first, snapping over every little thing.”

He remembered the conversation in the carriage, which had happened such a short time ago, and yet felt like a lifetime behind them.

“Our bickering led to truths being spoken,” he said, his heart beating harder at the memory. “The argument loosened our tongues so that we hurled accusations at each other that had remained unspoken for twenty years. Through that, we each began to see the mistakes that had been made so long ago.”

“Yes,” Walsingham interjected softly. “Arguments are often better than tender words to clear the air, like a summer thunderstorm.”

Waldorf’s brow went up. That was an ideal comparison.

He shrugged and continued, spinning a different version of what had actually happened. “From there, we opened up and spoke to each other honestly. We listened to each other’s concerns, old and new. We formed a truer picture of what had actually transpired twenty years ago. When all that talking ended, we realized we still loved each other.”

He drew in a breath. Dear God, he still loved Kat. He’d never stopped loving her, not for one moment. Even though she aggravated him to no end. The very reasons she aggravated him were some of the reasons he loved her.

“What a wonderful thing that you were able to overcome the trials of the past to find your beloved again,” Walsingham said with a warm smile. His words were reminiscent of the way his wife spoke.

Waldorf saw more than ever that Lady Walsingham was not as mad as he’d initially thought. In fact, it was as likely as not that he and Kat were the mad ones for fighting so hard against love for so long.

“If you will excuse me, Lord Walsingham,” Waldorf said, setting his glass aside and standing, “I need to go find my beloved. I have reason to believe she might need my assistance at this time.”

“By all means, go,” Walsingham said, standing as well. “I think I might go in search of my wife to see how her ridiculous games and exercises are proceeding.” When Waldorf glanced to him in surprise as they left the study, Walsingham laughed and said, “I adore my wife, and I believe her to be a genius on the subject of love, but she does have a habit of exposing innocent and unsuspecting couples to mad implementations of her philosophies.”

“Indeed,” Waldorf said with a laugh.

They parted ways at the end of the hall, as Walsingham headed outside and Waldorf up the stairs to see if, perhaps, Kat was hiding from Headland in her bedchamber. He’d failed to talk Walsingham around to the Mercian Plan, but he did not consider the conversation a failure. He felt as though he had a deeper understanding and rapport with Walsingham, which could, perhaps, lead to other conversations.

But more importantly, something had settled in his heart where Kat was concerned. The flame of the love he’d once had for her had never gone out, but he would need Kat in order to fan it into a full blaze again.

Sixteen

Whatever Lady Walsingham’s intentions,for Kat, her lovers’ retreat was turning into a storm of emotions that left her feeling like a ship that had been lured by sirens, then battered against rocks. The thrill of competition had given way to old resentments and bitterness, all of which had been stirred to the surface by a few, sharp words. Or, more likely, her own disappointment in not beating Lord and Lady Postern at the frivolous game.

Kat had let herself become angry, and before she’d been fully out of sight of the continued noise and messiness of the race, regret and shame for, once again, letting her hurt feelings get the better of her welled up to take the place of any anger or thrill she had felt before. It stung to feel as though she would never truly be free from the misunderstandings of the past until she learned to school her emotions in the present and to let go of resentments that were as false as phantoms.

Just as she had thought she might turn around and go back to apologize to Waldorf, she’d caught the barest glimpse of Lord Headland lying in wait for her at the edge of the topiary garden. It had taken a bit of quick thinking and several unladylikemovements that Napoleon would have been proud of to dodge out of the way before Lord Headland had fully seen her.

He must have seen at least a hint of her or known she was walking his way, however. He started after her as Kat made for the kitchen garden.

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