Nell apparently was not ready to give up her line of questioning, however. “Wasn’t he supposed to be your ideal mate? Skye told me something of your history with Mr. Deverill and your conjectures about legendary lovers.”
Avoiding an answer, Kate reached for a biscuit. Last season, she had speculated that the five Wilde cousins would find their mates based on myths and classic tales of legendary lovers throughout history—and had successfully predicted four of them.
“What was your tale to be?” Nell persisted. “Pygmalion?”
Kate made a face. “Yes.” She’d originally presumed her cousin Quinn’s courtship would follow the Greek myth of Pygmalion—a sculptor whose artistic creation had been brought to life by the gods. But after Quinn had married pursuing a different tale, she’d thought Pygmalion might do for her instead, only in reverse.
In this instance she would have to mold a bold American privateer into a proper English nobleman.
Her heart had sunk when she realized that Deverill might be her legendary lover. And now she was determined to prove otherwise.
“I am ready to abandon my theories about legendary lovers, Nell.”
Nell suddenly looked dismayed. “But you are the last unmarried Wilde cousin. You cannot give up now.”
“I am not giving up entirely. Merely on this particular legend.”
“Good. Your
premise thus far has been extremely fruitful. Your siblings and cousins would agree.”
Kate couldn’t repress a droll smile. “Yes, they finally appreciate my prodding.” She chewed thoughtfully as she recalled the battles she’d had with Ash and Quinn and her adopted brother and first cousin, Lord Jack Wilde.
Her desire to matchmake had begun when she was just a young girl—the craving to make something out of tragedy, to turn grief and loss into happy endings. In truth, after their parents’ deaths, all the Wilde cousins had felt a need to take fate into their own hands, to shape their own destinies.
“Well,” Nell said, “I certainly appreciate your prodding. You thrust me into society against my will, against my very character, and now I am preparing for an entirely new life with Horatio. I am still pinching myself for my good fortune.”
Kate nodded. She had dragged bashful Nell out of her shell and found her a genteel widower who properly treasured her.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world, Nell.”
“As do you, dearest Kate. I worry about you, you know.”
Sensing her companion’s desire to press further, Kate again tried to change the subject. “You won’t mind if I focus my efforts on Deverill’s bride search now? I don’t want my project to interfere with your nuptials.”
“It won’t. We have the wedding arrangements well in hand. But you should not forget about yourself, my dear. I know you have always longed for love.”
“I want love, yes, but it will not be with Deverill.”
“Why not?”
She gave her friend a patient look. “I was mistaken about him, Nell. I no longer believe he is my destiny.”
“No?” Nell frowned in disappointment.
“No,” Kate repeated emphatically. “And if I can find a bride for him, it will confirm that he was never meant for me.”
“But perhaps you can rekindle your romance with him.”
“There is no chance of that happening.”
“Why not?”
Because she refused to risk rejection again, to expose her vulnerability in so painful a fashion.
“May we please speak of something else?” Kate said, unable to hide her exasperation any longer.
“Yes, if you wish. But I only want to help.”