Page 73 of Bad Luck Bride

“Really, Mama! You needn’t sound so stricken! Must I remind you that you can’t stand him? You’ve been calling him That Horrible Man for donkey’s years, and now you want me to marry him?”

Magdelene looked away. “Any port in a storm,” she muttered.

“Oh, I see.” Kay gave a humorless laugh. “Now that I’ve once again been jilted and I’m being ridiculed by the scandal sheets asa result, even Devlin would be acceptable? You are impossible, Mama!”

Magdelene looked at her, her mouth taking on a decidedly mulish curve. “I don’t see why you say that, Kay.”

“The man was engaged to someone else scarcely two weeks ago!”

“So were you. That was then, and this is now.” Magdelene paused, fingering the edge of the newspaper beside her plate. “I heard he’s become quite rich.”

“Mother!”

“Don’t look at me like that, Kay Victoria! I’m looking out for you.”

“How unselfish of you.”

Magdelene heard the acerbic note of her voice and bristled in response. “Well, someone has to think of the future,” she cried. “After all,” she added, rising to her feet as Kay groaned, “it’s not as if there’s anyone else for you waiting in the wings, is there? Not now that you’ve ruined things with Wilson and dashed all our hopes.”

With a sob, she left the table and flounced off to her room.

“Well,” Kay said, wincing as her mother slammed the bedroom door behind her, “at least he’s not ‘dear Wilson’ anymore.”

Josephine giggled, then sobered, looking suddenly thoughtful. “Kay?”

“Please don’t tell me you think I should have accepted Devlin Sharpe’s proposal,” she said, holding up her hand, palm outward as if stopping traffic. “Mama’s lectures are difficult enough. I couldn’t bear one from you.”

“I wasn’t going to lecture you. And if you don’t want to marry Sharpe, of course you shouldn’t. Though it amazes me he’d dare to ask you, given your history and everything that’s happened since.”

“That man would dare anything,” she said, and grimaced as she realized she almost admired him for that. “What did you want to say?” she asked hastily, happy to divert the conversation if possible.

“I haven’t wanted to cause you any pain, so I haven’t brought up the subject, but this whole thing is so strange. I can’t believe Wilson cast you off, just like that.” She paused and snapped her fingers. “And then Pam doing the same to Sharpe? And the two of them going off together? It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do such a thing?”

With an effort, Kay kept her face expressionless. “I have no idea.”

As the words came out of her mouth, Devlin’s words rattled through her brain.

You lie to others, you even lie to yourself.

Just the memory of it made her wince, because it was true. She’d been lying to so many people for so long, it had almost become second nature to her. Pasting on smiles when she didn’t feel happy, pretending to be fine with things she disliked, accepting things she didn’t want in order to please others, all because she’d never felt as if she had a choice or because she wanted their approval or their love or to avoid the pain of being hurt. And in spite of all that mendacity, she’d lost everything anyway. More than once.

Perhaps, she thought, it was time to find a better way to be, one that enabled her to be true to herself. But what way was that? She wanted to be herself, but who was she? What did she want from life?

“You look terribly serious all of a sudden, Kay.” Jo’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

She was saved from a reply by a knock on the door. “Heavens,”she said and rose to her feet. “I wonder who that could be. I hope it isn’t more flowers. Where would we put them?”

“It’s probably a reporter,” Jo said as Kay walked to the door. “I wouldn’t put it past them to come up unannounced. They accosted me and Mama right outside Harrods yesterday, bold as brass. Thankfully, I was able to send them scurrying off before Mama could invent some dramatic tale for them.”

“You’re a darling,” she replied with heartfelt gratitude as she opened the door.

A Savoy footman stood in the corridor with a card. “For you, Lady Kay,” he said, presenting the card with a bow. “The gentleman wishes to know if he may come up?”

She hesitated, taking the card even though she didn’t see the point, since it was sure to be Devlin, and she really didn’t want to give him ideas. “Thank you,” she said as she looked down. “And please tell him—”

She stopped, unable to quite believe the name printed on the calling card in her hand.

“Who is it?” Jo asked. “Sharpe, I suppose?”

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