Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“You were going to compliment me, weren’t you, Mama, until you remembered I’m flouting convention and you disapprove,” Katherine bristled.

“It’s the fact society will disapprove that concerns me, darling,” said Lady Fenton, nodding at her brother-in-law and drawing her daughter to an alcove so they couldn’t be overheard by an interested group of guests standing nearby. “Katherine, believe me, I want you to be happy. I know it’s been hard for you, but you must curb your impulsiveness.”

She might have softened the rebuke in the next sentence only suddenly Jack was at her mother’s side, with Odette clinging to his arm, and Katherine had no choice but to turn her attention to the man who set her pulses racing and manage a cordial nod at his intended.

“You’re looking lovely this evening, Miss Worthington,” she complimented her. “I hope your father’s health has improved.”

“Thank you. Indeed it has, much to everyone’s relief. I’d feared I might have to bring forward our nuptials, but the date remains. My dressmaker was very pleased.” Miss Worthington directed a happy smile at Jack who responded in kind.

Katherine turned her head away, only to find Lord Derry leaving his conversation with her Uncle Bertram and advancing upon them. Her heart suddenly seemed very heavy.

Gritting her teeth as she prepared to be invited to partner him in the waltz that was about to begin, she was surprised and relieved when, after the necessary formalities, he bowed before Miss Worthington and offered her his arm.

“I hope Mr Patmore won’t object if I squire his fair maiden onto the polished boards,” he asked. “I’ve heard she’s an excellent dancer. Learned to dance with the best of them in India, eh?”

Suddenly, Katherine found herself alone with Jack, her mother having slid away, too. Unaccountably awkward, her body thrummed with possibility when Jack raised his eyebrows and asked, “Would you like to dance, Katherine? Or is that not allowed when you’re in mourning? Not that anyone would know it.” His eyes twinkled.

“Do you disapprove, like everyone else?”

“I’d never disapprove of you, Katherine,” he told her, patting her hand as she rested it on his arm and he led her towards the floor.

“You’re the only one, then.”

“I’ve probably known you longer than anyone. Except your own family, of course. And I know there’s not an ounce of malice or unkindness in you.” He put one hand about her waist and took her other hand for the waltz hold before they both stepped onto the dance floor.

“I haven’t danced for so long I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it,” Katherine gasped as he twirled her about, though she realised it was as much her companion that accounted for her pleasure. A frisson of sadness enveloped her prompting Jack to ask, concerned, “I didn’t step on your toe, did I?”

“I wouldn’t have cared if you did,” Katherine laughed, determined not to spoil the moment.

“Then why did you suddenly look as if you were gripped by pain?”

“I didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have accused you if you hadn’t. You can’t pretend with me, Katherine. I know you too well.”

She glanced up at him, suddenly serious. “All right then. It’s because you’re going to marry Odette Worthington, and I’ll never see you again.”

He hesitated as if weighing up what to say. She thought he’d say what convention might have decreed: that of course they’d see each other again. Instead, he said, solemnly, “I’m obligated to marry Odette. You know that, Katherine.”

“Just as I’m obligated to marry Lord Derry. Do you think that?”

“I don’t think you should feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to, Katherine. You can cry off. Yes, you’ll suffer for it, and no doubt you’re weighing up whether the consequences are worth it.” He looked away briefly before bringing his troubled gaze back to her. “I can’t cry off. I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman has a code of honour that dictates every sphere of his life. Perhaps you’d be called shameless; perhaps you’d be shunned if you didn’t marry Derry. But I would be

branded a cad, no longer a gentleman, if I were to break off with Odette now, a month before our wedding and with her father so ill. And…” His voice trailed off. “I would break her heart.”

Just as you are breaking mine, Katherine thought, though his words thrilled her for the fact they said so much of his true feelings.

“Did you miss me, Jack?” she whispered.

Light flared in his eyes, which dulled as Derry and Odette brushed past them in a swirl of lavender taffeta and black suiting.

“I missed you, Katherine. I missed you when I left. Desperately. But we both knew a future was impossible. You weren’t about to throw in your lot with me in some mad, impulsive declaration that your heart had taken leave of your senses. I knew that…” He frowned, and Katherine bit down on the impulse to say the words that would give the lie to his long-held belief. Words that would also throw into turmoil his basis of honour. The transluscent blue of his steady, earnest gaze sent need skittering through her—the need for him; the need that he know the truth…

The need that he be protected from a truth that would only imprison him between two impossible choices.

“Do you have any regrets?” She straightened her spine.

Again, he met her look, squarely. “A gentleman would not have taken what you offered so generously,” he said softly. “But I was a young man in love—with you, and the adventure I was about to embark upon. A gentleman was what I was determined to be…on my own merits. I do not regret our time together, for it sustained me through so much. But if I had my time again, I would have behaved more gallantly, Katherine.”