“Yes, of course. We Wildes know how painful it is to lose our dearest loved ones.”
In self-defense, Ash tried a different tack. “If you are so convinced of the brilliance of your theory, Kate, why don’t you go first?”
“Because your tale presented itself first. It is staring us right in the face. Besides, you are the eldest. You have more than fulfilled your duty as head of the family, Ash. You’ve taken care of all of us for years, and it is time you looked out for yourself.”
“I am looking out for myself.”
“Not well enough. You hav
e never given love a chance, but you need to do so now.”
“So says the spinster.”
Despite being the wealthy daughter of a marquis, Katharine was considered practically on the shelf, having turned down countless offers of marriage because, she claimed, she had never found the man who could prove her match and she wouldn’t settle for anything less than true love.
“Yes,” she countered, “but it is not for my lack of trying. I simply have never met the right candidate. And you haven’t either. I know you will never agree to look for a bride from among this Season’s crop of insipid debutantes. You would certainly never have to worry about Maura being insipid.”
Ash glanced at the others. Quinn had relaxed upon realizing he wasn’t the immediate target of Katharine’s madcap schemes, and amusement wreathed his mouth. Jack also appeared more sanguine and seemed to be enjoying seeing his elder brother under the gun.
Skye spoke again, giving Ash a reprieve. “You said you have tales in mind for the rest of us, Katharine. What is your legend to be?”
Katharine made a face, followed by a self-deprecating smile. “I expect I will have to settle for Shakespeare’s comedy, The Taming of the Shrew. You know my temperament. And my name is even spelled like the Bard’s Katharine.”
Jack leaned over and pulled a lock of her flame-dark hair from her elegant coiffure. “And whom do I get for my match?”
“Oh, I have the perfect candidate in mind for you, mon frère, Jacques. But you probably won’t like it,” Katharine warned.
“I expect I won’t. I know you too well. But enlighten me anyway.”
“Well, then, it is Romeo and Juliet.”
“The devil I will,” Jack responded roundly. “I’m not playing the role of the tragic lover who dies.”
Katharine gave a short laugh. “Of course you won’t die in your ending. What kind of ideal romance would that be? But trust me on this, Jack, you will reconsider once you meet your Juliet. She is quite beautiful.”
“Who is it?”
“No, I am not telling you. Not when you are so mulishly determined to be closed-minded.”
“What about me, Katharine?” Skye asked curiously.
Kate looked to her cousin. “I haven’t determined your tale yet, Skye, but I am working on it. But Quinn, I think you will have Pygmalion and Galatea. You know, the Greek myth depicted in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, where a sculptor comes to love his ivory creation so deeply that the gods take pity on him and bring her to life.”
Quinn inclined his head while eyeing her narrowly. “I know the tale, but you have gone stark raving mad if you think I will fall in love with a statue.”
While Ash chuckled, Jack chimed in. “Yes, it’s clear our dear Kate is suffering from a brain fever. I hope it isn’t catching.”
“I cannot believe my own flesh and blood is so craven,” Kate retorted. “You are not behaving like Wildes at all. You know that we prefer to take fate into our own hands rather than have it act upon us. It is up to us to shape our own destinies. I am willing to help, but I can only do so much. For my theory to work, you each have to be responsible for meeting your match and making your particular tale come true.”
When no one replied to her suggestion, she gave a huff of exasperation. “What do you have to lose? Treat my mad idea as a game, if you like. Or a challenge. You have always relished a challenge, Ash. All I am asking is that each of you have one significant encounter with your possible match. Then you can decide whether to pursue your legend further.”
Ash wouldn’t mention that he’d already had a significant encounter with Maura this evening … one that had led to a heated embrace and roused his primal male instincts with a vengeance. He’d unwittingly played right into Kate’s hands, and he wasn’t inclined to continue any further, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else.
Before he could refuse, however, Quinn claimed Katharine’s attention by rising and planting a light kiss on her temple. “If we are quite done … I shall leave it to Ash to be your test subject. Like Jack, I have an early morning.”
Jack also got to his feet, but he patted Kate’s shoulder in an avuncular way meant to provoke her. “If you expect me to play along, sweet shrew, you will have to come up with a better tale for me.” He looked to Ash. “Let us know what you discover, brother.”
The two men excused themselves, with Quinn striding out purposefully and Jack strolling more slowly while shaking his head in disbelief.