The Sheik and the Slave - Page 106

They attended the theater to enjoy The Beggar’s Opera and afterwards, they had supper. Katharine was admired wherever they went, and Thomas noticed the men watch and follow her with their eyes. Though she was a beautiful woman, he knew that she had been through much.

He found her beauty intoxicating and wanted nothing more than to be with her. She was withdrawn and except for that one kiss, there had been nothing between them. He had tried to quell his desires for her, to give her time.

After supper, they were walking in Hyde Park, each lost in their own private thoughts. He had spent the time with her, watching her face and her movements, and knew the time had come.

“Katharine, I have enjoyed the time spent with you, and I think that you enjoy my company,” he began.

“Yes, Thomas.”

The Serpentine looked like cool glass as they stopped next to it. Hyde Park was quiet and serene, and the smell of wet grass reminded her of home.

“I know your heart is healing and I don’t want to push you. But I think there is a future for us,” he said. His hazel eyes met her blue ones.

“Thomas, these past weeks have been so hard for me. But you have been a kind and generous friend.”

“I want to be more than your friend, Katharine,” he said to her, his voice husky.

Purple intertwined with cream as he pulled her into his arms.

“I can make you happy, Katharine. Only let me,” he asked in a whisper before his mouth touched hers in a kiss that was sweet and loving. He broke the kiss and she stepped away from him.

“I need time, Thomas,” she said.

He caressed her cheek.

“You will have all the time you need. Come, let’s get you home.”

A movement caught her eye, and she thought she saw a dark shape behind a large tree. Was that a man? Surely not, she told herself. It was simply the shadows of the night.

Thomas caught her arm just as she tried to focus on the shape. Was she in danger? Should she be concerned? She quickened her pace and did not glance behind her.

***

The morning had been uneventful, and she spent much of it with her son. She saw that he was growing up; with a pain in her chest, she noticed that he looked like very much like his father.

He was a constant reminder of Mohammed, and she ached at his small face, eyes and limbs that were so beloved. How could he have abandoned them?

Later that afternoon, she spent time with her father and they played chess. She was convinced he let her beat him even though they were both superb players.

She finished dinner with her father and wanted to feel refreshed before tea. She changed into a simple yellow dress with the square neckline edged in yellow lace and along the elbow-length sleeves. The skirt fell in soft waves about her body as she walked and her square heels were yellow silk.

She ventured toward Hyde Park as the short walk from the Mayfair townhouse refreshed her. She thought about Thomas and his admission the night before and she wondered about it. She would live comfortably with him as the second son of an earl. He would look after her and she was concerned about her son, though she had no reason to think he would be anything but a surrogate father.

As the sun lowered in the sky, she wondered if she could love Thomas and make a life with him. She had given her heart and soul to Mohammed and it had ended so badly. She worried about opening her heart to another.

The trees were lush and the grass thick underfoot. She nodded to several couples who strolled along and a nurse who pushed a child along in a baby carriage.

It was serene, as it had been the evening before, yet the twilight had cast a rosy glow among the trees.

She saw a man walking ahead of her dressed in forest green breeches and frock coat. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and she saw his dark hair was clubbed. He seemed strangely familiar, but she didn’t see his face. Suddenly, he turned around to change directions and almost crashed in her. Katharine’s breath caught in her throat. She gasped.

She froze and could only gaze at him in horror. Then, she turned and fled.

“Katharine!” Mohammed yelled to her.

She ignored him as she tried to flee, but her corset was so tight she couldn’t breathe deeply enough to move quicker.

He swore under his breath and then chased after her. It wasn’t hard to catch up with her as she wasn’t moving that fast. She had seemed horrified at seeing him and he wondered why. After all, if anyone’s behavior was to be condemned, it was hers.

Tags: Nicola Italia Historical
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