Page 95 of In Search of a Husband
Kate had no desire in reiterating the past.
“Will you help me dress? I wish to look far more presentable than last evening.”
“Ye were a bonny sight last night. Dinna let them tell ye otherwise.”
Mrs. Malcolm had seta fine table for breakfast. Kate strode in a while later to find her parents at the table engaged deep in conversation.
“I see you still keep London hours,” her mother remarked. “That is of great assurance.”
Kate bit her tongue and made a small plate for herself at the sideboard. “I hope you both slept well.”
When they didn’t answer, she poured herself a cup of tea. “Would either of you care for tea?”
She sat between her parents, volleying her attention. “How are my brothers?”
“Mr. MacInnes did not return last evening. That is what the housekeeper told me,” her mother began.
“He mustn’t be a man of his word if he can’t return to play host to his guests. Does he treat you the same? They all hate us English—the Scots.”
“He has a great deal of business in the village, and with the festival, I am sure it kept him busy. He will return…”
“We don’t intend to stay.” Her father gripped his teacup and shifted forward in his seat. “I have no interest in visiting Scotland, nor do I have any interest in hearing why you are here. The only matter of importance is that you return with us promptly to London.”
There was an unforgiving knot in Kate’s throat. It had lodged its way there, perhaps, when she was four or five, not long before she spent her time with a stodgy governess. And it remained there. It wasa pain that was no longer bearable. She couldn’t allow herself to remain silent, always the purveyor of her own life, instead of living it.
“I have enjoyed my time here. I don’t wish to return to London.”
Her mother gasped, and her teacup shook against the fine porcelain saucer. “A governess, Katherine?”
“What did you expect for me to do after the scandal, Mother? I couldn’t remain in London as Charlotte’s companion.”
“The duchess would have looked after you. She would have ensured?—”
“Well, you certainly couldn’t have done so. You couldn’t even stomach acknowledging me at the modiste.”
“What was I to do?”
Kate set down her tea and turned toward her mother with a frown.
“Your behavior was shocking. I spent many years ensuring you would make an excellent wife, and then you threw it away. You represent your father and I, and after what happened, I was embarrassed to call you Daughter.”
“I did not throw it away…”
“Katherine,” her father barked, “listen to your mother.”
She folded her hands in her lap, remaining silent. Waiting.
“Your behavior in London was shocking. Your reputation has been ruined. But enough time has passed now that it is appropriate to find a husband.”
Her father scratched his brow, as if pondering what to say next. “And the marquess has joined us on this journey because he has something he wishes to ask.”
Kate made a show of looking around. “Beg my pardon, but I do not see him here.”
As expected. She had learned all too well never to count on the marquess for anything.
“After his accident,” her mother said, neatly pointing her nose in the air as if exhausted, “he is a changed man. He nearly died, dear.”
“He was shot in a duel, Mother. There was nothing accidental about it.”
