‘Would that have been so bad?’ Good thing his ego was in good shape.
‘Yes.’ The word was delivered with simplicity. ‘The scandal wo
uld have been too much. Especially...’
‘Especially because you were planning to marry a prince.’
‘No! I mean... I hadn’t decided what to do.’ She twisted her hands into the teal-green folds of her skirt and then, as if realising what she was doing, she smoothed the material and pulled her shoulders back. ‘I wasn’t dating Frederick at the time, but I knew there was a possibility that I would in the future. I was a free agent that night, Daniel, and I didn’t offer more than I could give. One night.’
‘But you lied. And you took what I gave under false pretences. I wouldn’t have spent the night with you in Barcelona if I’d known who you were and exactly what your gilded cage was.’
‘Why not?’ The question tumbled out and she pressed her lips together as if in regret.
‘Because you were as good as promised to another man and I don’t poach.’ The idea was anathema—he’d watched his mother’s repeated humiliation at his stepfather’s numerous infidelities.
Kaitlin leant forward, shook her head, her red-gold hair swinging as if in emphasis. ‘I was not promised to anyone. Frederick and I had no understanding at that point. It was simply an idea that my parents had put to me. He hadn’t approached me—there had been no discussions.’
‘But you knew.’ His voice was implacable. ‘All the time you were with me you knew that you would soon be dating someone else. You as good as said it.’
‘One night of freedom before I step into a gilded cage.’
Her words in Barcelona had been poignant. Because he knew all too well the iron bars of a gilded cage.
He’d grown up in one—benefited from the gilding, the luxuries, the power, the money, the lifestyle. At what point had he suspected that all those advantages had been bought with money raised from illegal sources? When had he realised what his mother had done?
Guilt coated his insides. She’d done it for him—to give him all those advantages. His father had been dead, she had been destitute, and so his mother had stepped into a gilded cage, married into the mob, and taken two-year-old Daniel in with her.
Enough. That part of his life was over. Here and now he focused on Kaitlin, studied her cool, aloof expression, and felt curiosity as to her motivations surface. ‘I don’t get why you took such an enormous risk.’
Because every scrap of research he had done on Kaitlin Derwent had shown that risk wasn’t in her personality. Never a hair out of place...always ready with a witty quip or the correct comment. Always serene, poised, calm and in control—not the type of person to risk a scandal for a one-night stand. Yet that was exactly what she had done.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Her tone had lost all colour, and a sudden image of ‘Lynette’ filled his mind—her vivacity, the way she’d laughed, spoken, enthused. It seemed almost impossible that Lynette and Kaitlin were one and the same.
Not his business. Kaitlin was right. It didn’t matter—he’d come here to satisfy his curiosity, confirm his near conviction. No more.
Kaitlin glanced around. ‘We’ve been out here too long; people will start to talk soon. I need to go. This is Gabe’s wedding—I don’t want to ruin it in any way.’ She closed her eyes for a second. ‘But we need to finish this conversation.’
They did? As far as he was concerned it was over bar the farewell. But Kaitlin clearly disagreed.
‘I’d appreciate a few more minutes of your time. Maybe tomorrow?’
‘Sure.’ Curiosity prompted his acquiescence. Along with the knowledge that it was never wise to refuse information. All good lawyers knew that information was power. The last thing he wanted was for this farce to come back and bite him in the future. If Lady Kaitlin Derwent believed there was an issue to discuss then he’d go along for the ride.
‘Breakfast. Tomorrow. Faircliffe Hotel. I’ll book a private room.’
‘Thank you.’ She gave a fatalistic lift of her shoulders. ‘I’ll be there.’
* * *
The morning spring sunshine slanted through the windows of the hotel bedroom, reflecting off the mirror where Kaitlin surveyed her reflection. She put the final touches to her discreet layer of make-up—the mask that ensured Lady Kaitlin retained her image of cool perfection.
‘I wish you’d tell me what is going on,’ her sister said from where she sat on the bed.
Not surprisingly, given it was the closest hotel in the neighbourhood, Cora and her husband, Rafael, had stayed in the same hotel as Daniel the previous night. Kaitlin had figured it was better to tell Cora about the meeting rather than have her twin waylay her en route to breakfast. Now she was beginning to think she should just have kept quiet. Cora had insisted on seeing Kaitlin before the meeting, and her dark blue eyes reflected her usual intuitive discern.
Kaitlin met her sister’s gaze in the mirror. ‘Nothing is going on.’
‘Rubbish. I’m your twin, Kait. There are times when I just know, and this is one of them.’