Page 58 of Kathryn

Jasper had not thrown a tantrum as Doddy had done on occasion when he lost. No, his reaction had been far more subtle and punitive.

That very night Jasper had chosen to lead every other girl except Katie onto the dance floor. The other men in the neighborhood—all of whom idolized the older and more sophisticated Lord Jasper—had followed his lead, leaving Katie a wallflower.

Katie had been frantic by the time supper came, finding it harder and harder to breathe. Her keen-eyed aunt had been furious. “Why is Lord Jasper giving you the cut direct? You see how the others are all following his lead. What have you done, Kathryn?” She’d sounded so much like her sister, the Countess of Addiscombe, that Katie had frozen just as she always did whenever her mother rebuked her.

“I’ve d-done nothing, Aunt Agnes!”

But that had been a lie. She knew exactly what she’d done.

Not even the wallflowers had wanted to sit beside her after supper, and Katie was almost lost to despair by the time Jasper asked her to dance the very last set.

He’d smiled coolly down at her, a worrying glitter in his eyes. Only by biting her tongue so hard it bled had Katie been able to keep from shaming herself and begging his forgiveness for thrashing him at chess. As green as she’d been she’d still known not to expose his weakness in such a way.

Instead, she had simpered and flattered and prayed it would be enough to appease him.

For ten days there were no invitations from the marchioness. By the time Jasper called at her aunt’s house on the eleventh day and asked her to go for a drive in his curricle, Katie had been so desperate to please him that she’d almost wept with gratitude when he’d driven them to a small hunting cabin on his father’s estate and relieved Katie of her virginity.

Katie shoved away the nauseating memory and turned to study the four games. Two were likely to end in a draw and white should win the other two.

She felt something cool and smooth in her hand and was stunned to see her fingers curled around a black bishop. She dropped the piece as if it was a live coal. Thankfully it landed harmlessly on carpet rather than shattering on the hard wood floor.

Once she’d put the piece back, she stepped away from the tables.

Katie could just imagine how Gerrit—who’d looked thunderous when she’d merely looked at his shadowboxes in London—would react if she actually touched any of his possessions.

Of course, the boards might be the dowager’s.

Katie smiled at the thought of the flighty woman playing chess.

No, these would be her husband’s games, and something told her that Jasper’s long-ago punishment would pale in comparison to Dulverton’s if she moved so much as one piece. She shivered at the thought and put her hands behind her back, not trusting them.

An irrational but irresistible urge to get away from the boards seized her. By the time she reached the double doors she was almost running. She flung open the door and almost collided with the dowager.

“Goodness!” the older woman squeaked, taking a hasty step back. “What is wrong, my dear? You look like the devil was on your heels.”

Even if she could have spoken, Katie had no rational explanation for the terror that had just gripped her.

The dowager took Katie’s arm. “Come and sit down for a mo—”

“No,” Katie said in a far-too loud voice, pulling away as Betje led her back into the library, or at least tried to. “I—I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “Truly, I am fine.”

The dowager’s somber expression looked incongruous with her frivolous pink crepe gown. “I am sorry I did not come join you at breakfast, my dear.” She pursed her lips. “I told Dove to wake me early this morning but—” She broke off and fluttered her hands. “Well, you know how it can be with servants one has had all one’s life. They wish to coddle and protect one, even from one’s own commands.”

“Yes, I do know how they can be.”

The dowager suddenly smiled. “Today is a special day.” Her smile spread until it was an infectious grin.

“Er, it is?”

“It is your first in your new home!” Her smile dimmed. “I understand my son has gone out to his dig.”

“His dig?”

“He did not tell you about the dig?”

“No.” Because that would require actually talking to Katie rather than issuing commands.

“Oh, Gerrit,” Betje muttered under her breath. She shook herself and met Katie’s gaze. “I was hoping we could wait to have our talk, but I can see that won’t be possible.”