Page 9 of In Search of a Husband
As the tart sunshiny sweetness danced upon her tongue, it almost made her forget her mother had just cut her in front of the most celebrated modiste in London. No doubt, tomorrow she would be in the gossip rags.
Pitiful. Alone. Shameful.
She despised being a lesson.
Charlotte, a few feet away, rifled through the desk of their friend Lily, who was currently away in Venice on her honeymoon with her ex-naval lieutenant husband, Rafe Davies. Lily was headmistress at the school. Their Lilybell was perfect for the job. They simply had to be patient for her return.
Which Kate was not.
“I can’t find the ledger,” Charlotte huffed. She stood and placed her hands on her wide hips, blowing a piece of blonde hair away from her round face. It made her big blue eyes appear even larger.
“Lily was never known for her organizational skills,” Kate said, speaking around her bite of cake. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a piece?”
Charlotte laughed, shaking her head. “No, I’m quite sure. I am sorry,” she said to Kate.
Sorry.
Another pitiful word that didn’t make up for the fact that her mother was too afraid to acknowledge her presence. Perhaps she was just too embarrassed. She had thought, however naively, that she was held in higher esteem by her parents. She certainly was prior to her scandal with a marquess. Her mother had spent years of her life grooming Kate to be the perfect wife of a large household. She was skilled in every way a young woman was expected to be skilled. And she excelled because, quite frankly, Kate wouldn’t accept anything less.
“Poor Miss Sedgewick has had a terrible morning with the girls,” Charlotte said.
Kate ignored her friend, instead drawing loops over the paper in front of her with a quill pen.
She had been offered a teaching job at the school by both Lily and Charlotte, but that wasn’t what she had wanted for herself. She didn’t know what she wished for, but it was easy to spot what she didn’t.
But a governess in Scotland? How is that any different?
Charlotte continued around the room, picking up stacks of books, and moving aside celestial maps. Lily was quite fond of the stars.
Kate was quite fond of Celeste, the little black cat who curled up on her chest and rested her head on her shoulder. She scratched the cat’s back, who began purring and pressed its cold pink nose against her throat.
The cat was far too lonely at this school. Kate must bring her to Charlotte’s, where she could spoil the fluffy black feline.
“Don’t think of it,” Charlotte scolded, waving her finger out as she stood in front of the desk.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Lily would be heartbroken to lose her. And I don’t believe a cat would be welcomed at my home.”
Kate rolled her eyes. If the duke ever returned, she would rescue all the stray cats in London, set them free in his house, and rejoice as they scaled his fine silk curtains and tore them to shreds. Or peed on his fine Axminster carpets. That is how much she thought of that sorry excuse for a man who ran out on her friend, abandoning her to face the rumors of their circumstances surrounding their relationship alone.
Married, but always separate.
The ladies loved to gossip about the lack of an heir.
It was no one’s business, except it involved the Duke and Duchess of Dandridge, so all thetonfelt entitled to an opinion.
Kate’s was that she wished Charlotte had never married the cad.
“Fine,” she grumbled, sitting up in the chair. A note caught her attention, tucked between another pile of books on statistics and ancient history. A letter from Rafe.
Now there was a cad she hadn’t counted on, but who hadsurprised the trio by possessing a secret heart of gold and grand ambitions beyond a naval career. The charming rake was absolutely in love with his wife, and Kate would have cast up her accounts at their sweet displays, except she was beginning to believe their love story would be the only love story in her life.
Ruined, ashamed, and now pleasantly plump on lemon cakes.
“I am sure she is having a lovely time in Venice.”
Kate nuzzled the cat, refusing to believe it fared better here with a handful of rambunctious girls than if it returned with her to Mayfair.
