Page 94 of Kathryn

“Happy? With that man?”

“Mr. Court said—”

“Good Lord, Becky! Every third sentence of yours seems to begin with those three words.”

Becky gave Katie an irksomely superior look. “If you don’t want to hear what he told me about the duke then I will not bore you.”

Katie gritted her teeth and forced herself to say, “I’m sorry. I want to hear.” And she did want to know, so much that it infuriated and terrified her.

Becky made her stew a moment or two before saying, “Mr. Court said that His Grace was a different person before his first marriage.”

“I should think so. He was only ten-and-seven, a mere child.”

“Mr. Court said it was more than just his youth. He said His Grace was… romantic.”

Katie’s eyes bulged. “Romantic? I will believe many things, but that is not one of them.”

“Why would he lie?”

“Perhaps he is not lying, just mistaken.”

“I do not think so. He said His Grace was hopeful about his marriage even though he had never met his bride.”

Katie could imagine exactly what the adolescent Dulverton had hoped: that he’d have a woman to warm his bed whenever he wanted. But she knew that comment would not please her maid, who was romantic, so she said, “You spend a great deal of time chatting with Mr. Court. And not just about laundry.” Becky tried to tug her hand away but Katie held on. “Now, now, don’t become all prickly when I poke my nose into your business. After all, is that not what you were just doing to me?”

“I was not engaging in teasing gossip for the sake of it,” Becky snapped. “Somebody needs to help you save your marriage before it is beyond your power to do so.

Katie did not tell her friend that she was a member of a quickly growing club.

***

The carriage dropped them off at the Red Lion, which was evidently the nicest posting house Lyme Regis had to offer.

Dulverton had already dismounted by the time the carriage rolled to a stop and was speaking to a man who must be the innkeeper because he kept bowing at the duke, obviously delighted to have his custom.

Her husband waved away the footman and opened the carriage door, flipped down the steps, and assisted Katie and a pleased but flustered Becky down from the carriage.

“I have business that will keep me for several hours, but I have reserved the inn’s private parlor for the afternoon so that you may return here at any time to rest. I will be back at two o’clock if you wish to share a meal.”

Katie was nonplussed at the unprecedented offer of his company.

Becky poked her in the back when she didn’t respond.

“Er, yes,” Katie mumbled. “That would be pleasant.”

He inclined his head, pivoted on his heel, and marched off with one of his red-headed footmen sprinting after him, lugging a heavy satchel of some sort.

“Wasn’t that nice?” Becky asked.

Katie grunted.

Becky sighed at her lack of enthusiasm and pulled a folded piece of paper from her oversized reticule. “I have a few things I need.”

“I am at your service,” Katie said, her gaze lingering on the only reason she had come to town before he disappeared around a corner. She turned to her friend and forced a smile. “Let us see what delights Lyme has to offer.”

It turned out that Lyme had a number of stylish dress shops as well as an entire lane filled with the sort of vendors one found at the Western Exchange in London. Becky was in her element, and Katie soon realized they would spend the entire day on clothing, hats, and other frippery if her maid had her way.

“I want to pop into that bookshop we passed on the last street,” she said as Becky gazed at a number of muslin samples that all looked the same to Katie.