Page 101 of In Search of a Husband
She glanced around her room, at the pictures the girls drew for her hanging on the walls, at the books piled beside her bed. Of the life she had made for herself that had so quickly fallen apart in front of her.
Kate tossed the trunk open and began packing her clothes, leaving behind the fine gowns Gabriel had purchased. She didn’t want to have those reminders of him. She didn’t know what she wanted if she were honest.
She was only seething mad.
When she had been tossed aside by the marquess, it was sadness and shame that consumed her. But what just happened with Gabriel? Only anger.
His own fears were preventing her from the life she wished for, even if she stumbled upon it. She loved this village and its people, life at the castle, and the girls…
Lorna and Maisie would be devastated.
And perhaps she was a coward because she didn’t wish to see Elsie. It would be far easier to slip away and send a letter apologizing for her quick departure than to seek everyone out and wish them a proper goodbye. And she didn’t wish to see Gabriel.
Or hear his voice.
Or feel his embrace one last time.
No, London. She would return and seek out Charlotte and Lily, finding comfort in those friendships. Perhaps she could still be who she was to them before she left for Scotland. Before she ventured out on her own and found that she was more than the outgoing, troublesome friend.
That she was capable.
Kate quickly changed into her navy carriage dress, repinned her hair, then slammed the lid to the trunk down, and packed a few items into her bag.
She dragged the trunk to the top of the stairs, then stopped, rushing into her room to remove the girls’ pictures, and packed those as well. Once they reached an inn, she would post a letter to them explaining why it was necessary for her to leave.
Then she ran down the castle stairs to the great hall, nearly plowing into the marquess, who reclined by the fire reading an old newspaper.
“My trunk is packed. Please bring it down so we may leave.”
“Isn’t there someone else available?”
“Here?” She shook her head. “Staff, you mean? No, not beyond Mrs. Malcolm, and I would like my belongings carried down the stairs, not thrown from the turret.”
“Problems of living in a castle,” he said with a shrug.
“Hugh.”
He snickered, then stood and stretched, that mischievous twinkle in his eye as always. Once, she would have nearly fainted at the sight of it directed at her. Once, she would have considered him a man and not someone hiding from the rest of the world.
But perhaps she only knew the truth now after having done so herself. And she didn’t wish to go back. That self-doubt was a numbing isolation she wished on no one.
“Have you considered my proposal, Kate?”
It would be a very long six-hundred-mile journey back to London.
“As you only expected me to accept your offer of marriage and notask for it, I have not. Nor will I. My answer hasn’t changed from earlier, and I believe that is best for everyone involved.”
“Not for your employer.”
Her breath caught. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”
He edged closer, his eyes narrowing in on her. “It is when you won’t accept my offer of marriage.”
“Have you considered that I’m refusing on your own merit alone?”
“I was shot in that duel. I nearly died.”
She nodded, folding her hands in front of her. “So I have heard. My trunk, please, if you would be so kind.”
