“Ho, my dear, do I detect a note of jealousy? Perhaps a quiver of resentment? Don’t worry, since my marriage I’ve given all my mistresses a permanent congé.”
“You might very well change your mind about that. It’s quite possible you’ll soon find yourself wishing for their amiable company.”
“Please don’t hold yourself in low esteem. You will be all that I could ever desire in a woman. It appears it will just take me a while to bring you to the sticking point.”
“I’m not hungry and you look as if you’ve eaten an entire cache of eggs and drunk an urn of coffee. Shall we continue our journey?”
“Our wedding trip,” he said in his best nobleman’s drawl.
They bowled out of the courtyard of the Coeur de Lyon not long thereafter, and as Julien wished to reach the villa by late afternoon, they maintained a smart pace throughout the morning, halting only once to change horses. To Kate’s relief, she was relieved of his company for the better part of the afternoon, as he decided to take the reins.
“We’ve a sluggish leader who needs a firm hand. I hope you don’t mind being alone, wife.”
She raised her brows at him. As he stepped from the chaise, he remarked over his shoulder, “It’s a sad trial. It appears my firm hand is needed in so many things. From my bride’s clothes to my rented horses.”
Her attention was suddenly claimed by a very interesting rock formation by the side of the road. But it wasn’t long before she found that she was grinning despite herself, forced to admit that he was very good with the horses— rot his eyes— for the chaise was moving at a smoother pace, with fewer jolts and lurches.
She settled back and enjoyed the beautiful Swiss countryside that unfolded outside her window, trying to forget that she’d condemned it so shortly before. Such a short time before that, it would never have occurred to her even to think so a stupid thing, but so much had changed since the day she had first met the earl of March. As she recalled the shocked look on his face when he realized that his duelist was a girl, her lips curled into a smile. How very pleasant too were the early days she’d spent in his company. She’d been so very comfortable with him, speaking her mind, never mincing words. He’d been the most delightful of companions. She’d trusted him, as a friend, never really seeing him as a man, as a man who would want her.
She sighed and leaned back against the squabs, closing her eyes. He had destroyed those halcyon days and had robbed her of all comfort and peace of mind. She remembered unwillingly the day he’d asked her to wed him, the suffocating fear that had risen unbidden to choke her. She understood her fear not one whit better than she had then. She knew only that it was deep within her, a part of her from which she could not seem to free herself.
She opened her eyes as the chaise lurched its way ponderously up a steep incline that cut through dense, lush forest. A few minutes later the road widened, and the chaise burst out of the forest into a large triangular clearing atop a jutting promontory. In the center of the clearing stood a small, elegantly constructed white-brick villa. Delicately wrought columns supported the overhanging balconies of the second floor. It seemed to Kate that in the fading sunlight the endless numbers of windows glittered like bright prisms. Snowcapped peaks were visible in the distance, and the well-scythed lawn seemed to melt into the green of the forest, as if blended into it by an artist’s brush. It was an exquisite private mansion suited for royalty. She wondered from whom he’d secured this place.
As Julien reined in the horses, her attention was drawn to an older man and woman bustling out of the front doors toward them. Julien opened the chaise door and helped her to alight before turning his attention to the couple, who stood viewing her with lively curiosity.
“Good afternoon, James, Maria. I’d like you to meet my countess, Katharine St. Clair. Kate, meet James and Maria Crayton, thankfully here to keep us clean and dressed and well fed.”
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