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“You want some breakfast, Fred?”
“Already ate. Might have a couple of leads on Margot’s whereabouts. Could have this wrapped up later today.”
I nod absently, but a dual rush of emotions floods my body. Relief at the thought of removing the threat and dread at what that might mean for whatever is going on between Justin and me. The spark is there. Nobody would deny it, but I’m not so naïve to think declaring my love means it’s instantly returned. His willingness to pleasure my body does not guarantee a happily ever after, even if it is a step in the right direction. So, basically I’m having an affair with my own husband. At that thought, a wicked thrill courses through. Me, having an affair! Okay, it’s a very tame, nobody else would call it that kind of thing but it has me humming cheerfully as I stir the oatmeal.
Just as I’m about to load up the tray, I remember Rose and her baby. Did he or she arrive yet? Surely… I frantically search around for my phone. It would be embarrassing if I had to borrow Justin’s to call the number when it’s obviously somewhere in the house. I finally locate it under a cushion in the living room and click eagerly on the notifications. There’s a picture of a squishy newborn wrapped in a lavender blanket, eyes barely open and looking like she’s thinking the whole thing out again.
Meet your new goddaughter! Aurora Reese McBride. Call you in a few days. Exhausted but happy.
Relief and delight floods my body as I load up a tray with the now tepid oatmeal. I can’t wait to go visit and meet baby Rory. I’m already calling her that in my head. Although, can I leave Justin alone here yet? He’s mobile, but barely. And then there’s the Margot thing. I doubt he’ll be acquiescent to me heading to another state until she’s in custody.
Justin’s grimace when I hand him a bowl only reinforces my unease. He pokes at it with the spoon. “Are we out of real food? Send Fred for more.”
“No, we aren’t out of real food — this is real food and youneed to be eating healthy. Bacon every day will kill you,” I answer sweetly. That reminds me, though, that I never did find out who rescued the groceries from Justin’s vehicle. The car itself went to the state impound lot for the rental company to claim if and when they feel like it.
Justin eats the oatmeal without another word, but I can tell he’s not a fan. I make sure he has his phone for entertainment before I gather the dishes and head back downstairs. Maybe a little time on his own will sweeten his mood.
I unpack a few more boxes in the front room — mostly candlesticks and the like before deciding I need a tea and book break. And maybe I’m secretly hoping Kitty and the duke can give me some relationship tips to move things along.
I settle into the window seat in the unused dining room. It’s on the side of the house, so less likely for Fred to yell at me that I’m making a target of myself. I take a sip of the Earl Grey in my mug and settle back to find where I left off.
Her new husband stared at her in shock. Possibly slightly horrified as well, Kitty acknowledged to herself. He tightened the belt on his dressing gown and turned away. She watched in fascination as he stomped from the room. She had gotten what she wanted, so why didn’t she feel more pleased about it? And was she that hideous that he’d rather leave than have relations with her? She stared down at her nude body. She’d always thought she had a pleasing enough figure. And she’d never been one of the young women that had to pad out her decollete to fill out the bodice of her gowns. Neither did she have a habit of overflowing them. All in all she could see no reason for the duke not to take what was on offer, so it must have been her brazen dismissal of convention. But she’d be damned if she was going to lie there like a log while he pretended she was made of porcelain.
She sighed and flung her abandoned nightrail to the floor. She might as well make this a new habit so that Rafe understood she wasserious. As she snuggled under the eiderdown, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would act in the morning…
Like nothing had ever happened apparently, Kitty thought to herself as she poured tea for both of them. Rafe was dressed like a gentleman in the country with a stern expression on his face. It deteriorated into a frown when she smiled at him. Did she dare ask how long they would be staying at this remote estate? There didn’t seem to be any reason to linger.
She opened her mouth to ask, but Rafe was one step ahead of her. He stood abruptly. “Stay out of trouble, Kitty. I mean it,” he growled and strode purposefully from the room.
She sat there frozen for a long minute. Was this to be their relationship, then? Or was his pride still smarting? She sighed and gathered the tea things. With only three members of staff, asking one of them to stop doing a more important duty in order to fetch the dishes back to the kitchen just wouldn’t do.
She had yet to explore the rest of the house — the back bedrooms and the attics. Perhaps today was just the day for a little adventure. Cheered by that thought, Kitty carried the breakfast dishes through to the kitchen and set them on the counter for the housekeeper, then headed up the main stairs to the first floor of bedrooms. Obviously she knew the ones currently occupied by herself and the duke, but there were more doors down the dim corridor that she had yet to see open. She stuck her head in the first one. It was an empty chamber save the giant carved bedstead and decorated in green. There wasn’t even a closet to hold any surprises. She shut the door again with a sigh and continued on.
Things got more interesting on the floor above. These were the smaller bedchambers and where someone had decided to stuff the old and discarded furniture from the floors below. Things were in various states of disrepair or much out of fashion, but it was fun to poke through and open drawers to see if there were any abandoned letters. There weren’t.
“Ingrid?”
I look up from my book in shock to see Justin leaning against the doorjamb.
In such a short time, I’ve become addicted to Ingrid’s sweetness. It ought to feel like a weakness, a vulnerability to be exploited by an enemy. But instead I feel ten feet tall. She doesn’t hate me. She never hated me. Quite the opposite. I should still feel like scum for encouraging her attachment now. Not that I have any intention of pushing her away.
But surely, over time, she’ll mature into a woman who can see that the enticement of the forbidden is a very thin veneer indeed. And then what? She’ll pack up and leave without a word. Knowing that only makes me want to bask in her sunshine while I can.
“Show me your designs, baby?” I ask her from the sofa where she guided me. I made a token protest when she gently pushed me into the seat, but truthfully, the trip down the stairs was probably a little too ambitious. I’ll worry about the return trip later, possibly bribe Fred with some baseball tickets.
“You really want to see them?” Ingrid looks doubtful.
I nod. I do. Not because I know anything about jewelry beyond the price tag, but because they’re hers.
With a shy but delighted smile, she flits from the living room and up the stairs. A minute later and three sketchbooks have been placed in my lap. Ingrid stands there, twisting her fingers like she just handed over her firstborn to a complete stranger.
“Would you mind making some tea?” I ask her quietly, mostly to calm her down and give her something to do. Shenods hesitantly and sort of backs out of the room with reluctance. I wait until she can’t possibly see me before flipping over the first pasteboard cover.
Whimsy and elegance fill my vision. Some sketches are clearly no more than initial ideas, while others are practically engineering specifications. But Ingrid shines through them all. I don’t need to know anything about design or the industry to know she’s really good. And that her sweetness goes all the way through to her center. I shake my head, trying to figure out what the hell she sees in me, if this is how she views the world.
Ingrid sidles in with a tea tray, casting inquisitive glances my way.
“Put the tea down, Ingrid, and come here.”
