“I confess I am envious,” Kate said honestly. “In my country, a genteel young lady must strictly adhere to propriety or risk causing a scandal.”
From there the conversation turned to more mundane matters, beginning with care of the cottage. Gabrielle offered to accompany Kate to the market that afternoon, and to supply a servant to help with the chores. When Kate confessed that she was unaccustomed to boiling water for a bath, Gabrielle shared some welcome news.
“There is a Roman bath not too distant from here. Since it was built many centuries ago, much of the building is in ruins. But the pools are supplied by a hot spring and are quite enjoyable. You might want to visit.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Kate admitted.
“I will draw a map for you with the direction.”
All the while, Kate kept up a gentle probing of the Frenchwoman’s life and her relationship with Louvel. Additionally, she shared some of her own romantic history with Deverill. Confessing the humiliation of his rejection years ago went a long way toward gaining Gabrielle’s trust and convincing her to divulge her own confidences.
“I fear to press Jean on marriage,” Gabrielle eventually admitted. “He is not the romantic sort in the least.”
“Do you think he loves you?” Kate asked.
A wistful look entered her eyes. “There are times when I believe so, but I cannot be certain.”
“It would help if I could see the two of you together, to judge how he feels about you. We would be better able to determine a plan of action then.”
Gabrielle sat more upright, looking eager and optimistic. “But yes. The opportunity could arise if you and Monsieur Deverill were to dine with us. Perhaps tomorrow evening? In the interim, I will seek Jean’s permission. I dare not invite you without it.”
“I understand,” Kate assured her. “Dining together is an excellent idea.”
“I will begin tonight.” A surprisingly impish gleam shone in Gabrielle’s eyes. “The boudoir is a prime place to persuade him. There, I have been able many times to sway Jean to my wishes.”
Kate couldn’t help but smile. “What is your secret?”
“Seduction of course.” Gabrielle studied Kate thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should plot a seduction of Monsieur Deverill. Lust can prove a powerful incitement.”
Her smile turned to a frown. It was no more than she had advised many of her would-be matches, but even so, it would present a daunting challenge. He was an expert at seduction while she was a novice. “If I were to try, I could not be overt about it. I failed miserably once before….”
Yet seduction might be her only means of making him abandon his vow of celibacy.
Kate bit her lip in contemplation. It would be supremely fitting if she could drive Deverill wild with lust, as he was so clearly set on doing with her. She would derive great satisfaction from making him yearn for her, from making him want her madly. But far more important, by stoking Deverill’s desire, she stood a better chance of winning his heart.
By the time they finished their tea, a plan was beginning to take shape in Kate’s mind. And by midmorning when they prepared to visit the market, her spirits had lifted significantly. Like Gabrielle, she felt more optimistic than she had in a great while.
Now all she needed was to take the first step.
—
As it happened, Deverill created the opportunity for her that very evening. Kate was waiting at the cottage when he returned from the harbor. Over supper, which she had prepared with the aid of two servants, he reported their progress—how they had assembled the necessary boats and equipment and sailors, and outlined a map of the area where they would initially concentrate the search on the morrow.
Afterward, Deverill invited her for a walk on the beach.
The day was fading as they made their way from the cottage along a sandy path flanked by scrub bush. Depositing a blanket and a bottle of wine in the sand, they removed their shoes and stockings and strolled along the shore.
Much to Kate’s satisfaction, Deverill took her hand to help her over a clump of seagrass and never relinquished it. It was a perfect summer evening, with sunlight painting the water a rose gold and the music of nature serenading them: the call of seagulls, waves rushing gently at their feet, a soft breeze dancing over them.
Dusk had fallen when they returned to their chosen spot and settled on the blanket. With a rising moon silvering the water, Kate thought the scene enchanting.
“The view is lovely,” she said with all sincerity.
“Yes, it is,” Deverill responded while gazing directly at her.
Kate had begun to wonder what he was thinking, when he spoke again. “It might have escaped your notice, but I am making a romantic gesture, just as you wished. I still hope to persuade you to make our betrothal a permanent union.”
And I hope to persuade you to love me, she thought.