Page 17 of Kathryn

“Wrong with him?” he repeated doubtfully. “Aside from being dull he’s also bloody rude. At least he is to me anytime I have the misfortune to encounter him. Which is rarely, thank God. The man hardly ever comes to town and almost never—” He broke off, sat up, and his feet slid off the desk and hit the floor with a thump. “Wait, wait, wait just a minute. Chatham mentioned Dulverton was in town this week.” His eyes were out on stalks. “Don’t tell me the duke offered for you?”

She bristled at his amazement. “And why would that be so shocking, pray?”

“Not because of you, darling, but because I never believed he would marry again.”

“Again? I didn’t know he was married before.”

“It was more than twenty years ago and it ended in disaster. He was young—not yet come into his title—seventeen, at most. He hasn’t mingled in society ever since, so I suppose any gossip about him being married before simply died down.” He snorted. “An unexpected benefit of being such a boring fellow.”

“You and I know that gossip is always ready to rise from the dead.”

“Perhaps for most people, but the man really is duller than ditchwater.”

“Who was his wife?”

“Nobody you would have heard of.” A faintly lecherous smile stretched Andrew’s gorgeous lips.

“Why are you smirking?” Katie asked.

“I never smirk.” His smirk only grew larger.

Katie snorted. “Ah, I see.”

“See what?”

“You were her lover.”

He tried to look innocent and failed spectacularly.

“Men are such dogs.”

“Tut, tut, darling. She was the one breaking her vow to Dullnes—er, Dulverton,” he corrected at her scowl.

“What was she like?”

“Gorgeous. Promiscuous. All in all, a lovely little piece of fluff.”

It was difficult to think of the arrogant, proud man she had met earlier married to a lovely little piece of fluff.

“I was not the only man she dallied with,” Andrew said, as if that excused his behavior.

“What happened?”

He squinted up at the ceiling. “If I recall correctly, Dulverton had to leave London because his father was dying. It was right in the middle of the Season and the lovely Christina remained in town and ran amok.” He brought his gaze back to Katie and smiled. “I was just teasing you when I asked if he’d offered for you. The Dukes of Dulverton don’t condescend to marry mere English misses.”

“What do you mean?”

“They always take Dutch wives. It’s some ancient family tradition dating back to the Glorious Revolution.”

The young woman in the garden tonight now made sense. Dulverton must have been meeting her for the first time—and the two older people with her were probably Dutch matchmakers of some sort—and Katie had ruined their plans.

Not just theirs, but Fowler’s and Letty’s, as well.

“What is going on, Katie?”

Katie looked up from her unpleasant thoughts. “You said the marriage was a disaster? What did you mean?”

“Oh, didn’t I say? She ran off with another man.”