Page 57 of Whiskers and Wiles

Eighteen

Kat was vexed beyond telling.Just when everything seemed to be going so right, it all teetered on the edge of going so wrong. Spending the night in Waldorf’s bed had been bliss itself. Waking to find herself still using Waldorf’s powerful, warm body as her pillow had been wonderful. Rising from sleep filled with confidence and a determination to complete the mission Queen Matilda had sent her on quickly and thoroughly had her looking forward to the day.

Then it had all gone wrong the moment Waldorf stepped into the doorway between their rooms. She had been able to see at once that he was sulking. She’d guessed at once his gloom was because she’d chosen her work and her mission above lying in with him. And then the blackguard had insulted Napoleon, which was akin to an unforgivable sin, as far as she was concerned.

That in itself would have been cause for Kat to be angry, but the very fact that she had slid right back into anger, after all the progress that had been made to repair the damage done to her and Waldorf’s relationship, only made her more angry. It was afrustrating and ridiculous circle, and it was one she did not know how to break.

And to add insult to injury, when Waldorf was otherwise engaged at breakfast, not paying the least bit of attention to her, Lord Headland had repeatedly attempted to seat himself near her, address her, and otherwise engage her in what, from the dire look in his eyes, would have been very pointed conversation. Kat had had to pretend she was serving Napoleon’s needs by constantly moving farther away from the louse, which had unsettled Napoleon far more than the precious boy should have to endure.

All of that, and the continued bickering between her and Waldorf as they entered the boat and began to row to the center of the lake would have been bad enough. But then she opened the envelope to reveal the questions Lady Walsingham wished them to discuss in their Trial of Affection.

“Have you ever been false with your beloved?”

“Was there ever a time when you doubted your beloved’s word?”

“What traits does your beloved possess that you would wish to see changed?”

Kat wanted to tear the card containing the question to bits, throw the pieces in the lake, row to shore, return to the house to pack her things, and sail away to the Orient so that she could avoid not only Lady Walsingham’s impertinent questions, but the wrath she was certain Queen Matilda would rain down on her once she and Waldorf failed miserably at the impossible mission they’d been given.

“What?” Waldorf asked curtly, though his gaze was on Napoleon, who cowered under the seat. “What does it say?”

“Nothing at all,” Kat snapped, choosing then and there to abandon the mission entirely. She ripped the card in half, then in half again as she said, “This entire retreat and the missionwe have been sent upon are ridiculous, irresponsible, and futile. The queen was having a laugh at our expense when she shoved us away from the vibrancy and intrigue of London and out to this bedlam.”

“What does it say?” Waldorf asked with increasing petulance. He let the oars go and attempted to steal the ripped pieces of the card from Kat’s hands.

“No!” Kat jerked back, holding the paper bits out of his reach. “The questions are stupid and moot. I will not discuss any of it with you. Lady Walsingham is attempting to stir up trouble on purpose.”

“Dammit, woman! What do the questions say?” Waldorf growled, surging off his seat as though he would wrestle the cards from her hands.

In the process, he rocked the boat so precipitously that water sloshed in over the sides, causing Napoleon to yowl in protest and almost make a break for freedom before realizing there was no place to go.

Kat careened backwards and would have fallen off her seat had she not let go of the card pieces and gripped the edges of the boat. “Fine!” She shouted, pushing Waldorf back as soon as the boat had stabilized enough for her to shove a hand to his chest. “Would you like to know the trial Lady Walsingham has set for us? Those questions are about fidelity and doubt. They are about the things we do not like about each other. She is prompting us to argue in a place where we can do nothing about it.”

Even as Kat said that, she began to notice other raised voices around the lake. As Waldorf plunked back to his seat and she straightened herself, she was able to see more than a few of the other couples bickering. That did not diminish the frustration she felt for Waldorf.

“What utter nonsense,” Waldorf growled, grimacing as a now damp Napoleon attempted to climb up his leg to a part of the boat that was not soaked.

Whether it was watching the man she wanted to love but was still furious with attempt to push away one of the only living creatures who had loved her unconditionally, or whether things had, at last, come to a head that could not be ignored, Kat was through with clinging to the past.

“Yes!” she shouted, leaning toward Waldorf. “It is utter nonsense. All of this is nonsense. It is nonsense that you chose to believe your worst imaginings about me twenty years ago rather than trusting me. It is nonsense that we refused to speak with each other to clear the air for twenty years. It is nonsense that we are allowing outside forces to influence our feelings for each other, and that we each continue to trust the resentments of the past more than what we see directly before us.”

Waldorf’s expression pulled into one of shock, but for a moment, all he did was blink at Kat.

So she went on with, “It is ridiculous that you should resent a feline simply because I love him. I love a great many things. I love my friends, my kingdom, and the seaside. Will you growl and grumble at them as well because they turn my attention from you?”

“I never said that?—”

“It is ridiculous that even though I know we would both be infinitely happier and more settled in life if we could burn away the hurt of everything that has passed between us that we are still angry with each other,” she went on, gripping the edge of her seat hard as she leaned toward Waldorf. “I do not wish to be as furious with you for things that are dead and gone and beyond both of our control as I still am. But anger has become like a part of me, like those ridiculous whiskers you sported for so long. I want to shave it off, throw it away, and be done with it for good,but it keeps growing back, over and over, no matter how much I want to forgive you and make things right between us again. No matter what I do, I cannot rid myself of this wretched, all-consuming anger over everything that could have been, but was destroyed.”

“Kat.”

Kat was so beside herself with emotion that she was near tears, but the suddenly tender tone in Waldorf’s voice had her heart skipping a beat as she glanced up at him.

“I’m still angry too,” Waldorf said, though his expression held everything but anger. “At you, at myself, most certainly at Headland, at so many things. I am furious that we were not granted the life we deserved. And I cannot guarantee with any surety that the anger I feel, or that you feel, will leave either of us entirely. But nothing at all will change between us if we do not work to change it.”

“But how?” Kat all but sobbed. “How does one simply forget such a grievous wrong? Twenty years of anger and resentments have cost us so much, Waldorf. What if it has cost us everything?”

“It has not,” Waldorf insisted, his voice and his expression insistent. “It cannot have ruined things beyond repair. We may not be granted an exact replica of what might have been, but with time, with effort, and with love, we can?—”

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