Page 98 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“You’re my daughter, are you not?” he all but purred. “You’lldo as I say. Acquire that evidence and come to my home. I’ll shelter you, and together, we’ll gain the power which should’ve belonged to your uncle.”
Her eyes were wide. “What?”
“Join me, Katherine, and together we’ll rule the country as father and daughter!”
Dio Benedetto,all that was missing was a long cape, some convenient wind and lightning, and a cackling laugh.
Before she could come up with a way to respond, a woman swept up, a beautiful young blonde. She wore her beauty as if it were one of the many privileges she’d been born with: unconsciously, certainly. Diamonds glittered at her throat and ears, and she wore a large ring over one gloved finger.
When she slipped that arm through Father’s, Kit knew who this was.
Lady Emma, her father’s betrothed. Her future stepmother.
Father immediately dropped Kit’s hand and stepped back beside his fiancée, hiding his thoughts behind a mask of mere interest.
“William, darling,” Lady Emma drawled, eyes glinting dangerously at Kit, her voice deceptively sweet, “how rude of you to ignore me for so long. Our guests willtalk.”
“Yes, dear.” Distractedly, Father patted her hand. “I believe they will understand. This is my daughter, Miss Katherine Pastorino. Katherine, my lovely betrothed, the Lady Emma, daughter of the Earl of Stallings.”
Kit, knowing what was expected, sank into a respectful curtsy as Lady Emma nodded stiffly, accepting the deference as her due.
“My lady,” Kit murmured, “Congratulations.” As if this were a love match and not an arrangement between two equally conniving parties. “You must be very happy.”
Emma ignored her. “Adaughter, William? You invited a—a—natural childto my engagement ball?” she hissed. “To embarrass me?”
“Hardly, my dear,” he drawled dryly. “Katherine surprised me, she surprised us all.” He raked her with another cool gaze. “Orange?Really.” He sighed. “Still, my lady, I suppose I should tell you I’ve invited Katherine to stay with me until she returns to America.”
If Emma hadn’t already been furious, that would’ve done it. Kit had shown up on Thorne’s arm, drawing attention away from the guest of honor. Then she’d monopolized Emma’s fiancé and had the bad grace to turn out to be an embarrassing secret from the past. Now her fiancé was telling her he’d invited his embarrassing secret for avisit—to the home where Emma herself would move.
Really, it was almost difficult for Kit to keep her smirk hidden.
“Oh, I don’t intend to leave anytime soon, Father,” she assured them both, noticing how their gazes hadbothturned hard.
Interesting. So did he honestly expect her to stay with him after she’d delivered the evidence? Or had that been a lie as well?
Perhaps he’s planning on killing you off, the same way he did away with his own brother.
Yes. She studied her sire. Yes, that was a definite possibility.
Kit was saved from having to come up with more niceties by the tornado of energy which was Thorne when he was being charming. “Lady Emma!” he cried, picking up her free hand and bending over her fan, eyes sparkling with such delight Kit almost believed his act. “Ye’re positively radiant, my dear! Felicitations on your match, although I suspect I shall have to throw myself from Southwark Bridge, kenning ye are no’ to be mine.”
His huge sigh of despair was comical, but it did the trick.Lady Emma blushed prettily in delight at his compliment, lightly tapping his shoulder. “Fah, Your Grace, you had no interest in marriage.” She beamed happily at Father. “I found my own prize.”
“Ye did indeed, ye did indeed!” declared Thorne, rocking back on his heels with a good-natured grin. “A lucky man, as well!”
Father’s gaze was hard as he studied Thorne. “Quite,” he murmured. “As are you, I suspect.”
The way he glanced meaningfully at Kit left no question as to his meaning, and even Emma tittered behind her fan. Thorne beamed like an idiot.
“Och, well, Miss Pastorino and I have found we rub along well enough. Musicians are such fascinating people, are they no’, Bla—Bonkinbone?” Kit had no doubt the slip had been deliberate, as was the way Thorne’s blue gaze turned hard for a moment. “Just like opera singers, eh?”
Before Father could speak, Lady Emma tittered again. “Oh, I have heard suchscandalousstories about opera singers and other theater types.”
Kit smiled wolfishly. “Yes, my lady. They are all undoubtedly true.”
As Emma blinked in surprise, Thorne offered his arm to Kit. “Miss Pastorino, I’ve heard the orchestra is set to play a waltz, and ye ken how much I love dancing.”
“I do, Your Grace,” she murmured, placing her hand on his.
