Page 103 of In Search of a Husband
How he could say so without denying the fact that he wore a smirk on his face, and he reclined into the corner of the carriage like a lazy panther waiting to pounce, was beyond her. She didn’t believe him. And the hope that London would be a fool’s errand.
“You will be happier in London, dear,” her father said. “I don’t see how you managed these past few months.”
“I managed very well,” she said.
“No doubt,” the marquess said slyly.
Kate did not care for carriage rides, especially long carriage rides, and now especially with smug marquesses. She doubted her mother would appreciate fisticuffs in such an enclosed space.
She drummed her gloved fingers over the top of her knee. “It would be best if everyone would remain silent. It is going to be a very long six hundred miles back to London.”
The others agreed, and a moment or two passed before the silence was too much to bear.
“I enjoyed my time here,” she said.
But that didn’t sound right either. It wasn’t as if she enjoyed every moment of her time in Scotland. But she had found something herethat she had lacked her entire life. She had found a place to belong. And just as neatly as she had discovered it, she was leaving. Which was to say, messy. She arrived in Scotland lost and more than a little hopeless. It hadn’t been an easy adjustment, for she fled the castle at the first sign of trouble because she was too good of a daughter, and Gabriel was too caught up in his own fears.
The carriage rumbled through the sleepy village. Mrs. Stewart was out sweeping her stoop, and the soft glow from the inn washed across the quiet street.
She would miss that most of all. What could have been.
“Don’t mope,” her mother chastised.
“It’s not a quality men like to see in their women,” father commented. “Don’t you agree, my lord?”
“I suppose it depends. Some moping might be appropriate from time to time,” he answered judiciously.
“We will need to visit the modiste when we return for a wedding gown.”
Her father whacked his knee as if struck by genius. “Perhaps a special license. Instead of a spring wedding, it might be best to hurry along the nuptials.”
“That may encourage rumors, dear, as Kate has been away from Town for some time.”
She was sitting right there, and they talked as if she were nothing but a pawn piece. Had they ever seen her and truly loved her, or had she always been a means to an end?
“I don’t wish to marry the marquess.” Kate cleared her throat, determined to force out the uncertainty. “Are you implying some may think I went away to have a child?”
“It is said the marquess has several already out of wedlock.”
Hugh scoffed, scratching his cheek and avoiding Kate’s commiserating stare. “I believe the current rumor is three illegitimate children. That’s fewer than several.”
“Mother, the importance there is the word rumored. It doesn’t mean something is true. You do know I came to Scotland to fill a governess position that my father’s cousin wrote to me about?”
“Yes, but a governess? Our family is well beyond means to ever consider such a fate for you. It was you who did that to yourself.”
“It wasn’t an imposition. I enjoyed my time…”
Her mother flipped through a small notebook, perhaps one of addresses. “You are not maternal, dear. No offense.” The utter disinterest in her voice was enough to make Kate want to scream. “You will need an army of nannies and nursemaids when you do have children.”
“Stop the carriage!”
Her mother reached out and grabbed her hand, clutching her fingers tight. “Do not scream, Katherine. My nerves.”
Her father bristled. “We will not be stopping.”
But Kate pressed her face against the window, certain she saw something off to the side of the road as the village faded from view.
“Father, please. I see something. Stop the?—”
