Free The Black Duke's Prize by Suzanne Enoch Page B

Staffordshire, and there was
no word from her uncle, either, despite three additional letters. To Kate's
surprise, though, her godparents, who had been so sympathetic before, no longer
seemed concerned over Uncle Simon's reticence.
    "You cannot assume the worst, Kate," Lady Alison said as the
three of them lunched together. "After all, he is your uncle."
    "We know what a terrible time it was for you," Lord Neville
added soothingly. "Perhaps you exaggerate just a little."
    Katherine stood. "I do not exaggerate," she retorted, her
temper flaring. "If it were your home at stake, you would feel the
same." She grabbed her riding gloves. "I think I should go back to
Crestley and see for myself what he is up to."
    Lord Neville rose as well. "Nonsense, Kate. You couldn't go on your
own."
    "I made it here on my own," she reminded him.
    "By mail stage," he pointed out.
    Katherine shuddered, for she had detested every moment of that smelly,
bumpy ride. "I will not let him steal what belongs to me."
    "My dear, I will not see you so distressed," Lady Alison said,
reaching up to take her hand. Kate didn't see the scathing look she shot at her
husband.
    "Kate, I will send someone to look into matters at Crestley,"
Lord Neville said quickly. "There is no need for you to go. Will that
suffice?"
    "I already―" Kate swallowed. They would both be hurt if
she admitted to going behind their backs. It seemed she had plunked herself
into a hole. But perhaps Lord Neville would get a quicker response than she had
been able to muster. "All right," she agreed, nodding.
    Shortly after that Louisa and Thomas arrived to escort her to Hyde Park.
Again the viscount was more than generous in his praise of her, but his kind
words affected her far less than did the erratic compliments of the Black Duke.
It shouldn't have been so, for half the time she wasn't certain if Sommesby
even meant what he said, and the other half of the time what he said provoked
her beyond bearing. If only he would stop being so unpredictable, there was
no doubt she would tire of thinking about him, and dreaming about him, almost
immediately.
    When they arrived at the park the Black Duke himself was present, seated
on a great black charger and conversing amiably with the captain. She found
her eyes focusing on his lips, and her thoughts on the intoxicating kiss he had
given her the day before. Unsettled, she came near to claiming a headache and
returning to the Hamptons' before he saw her. She didn't, however, telling
herself that if she did leave he would likely drive poor Althaea, already
cowering on the far side of her brother, to another fit of the vapors.
    At that moment he turned and smiled. He kneed his stallion forward,
stopping beside her to lean over and pat her mare's neck. "Hello,
Winter," he said amiably, and the gray's ears flicked at him. When Kate
looked back at his face, his eyes were on her. "Katherine," he said,
inclining his head.
    So he would greet her horse first, would he? "Nicholas," she
returned coolly. "You seem to be familiar with my mount, sir."
    "I am," he replied mildly. "I sold her to Neville several
weeks ago."
    That would have been about the time she arrived in London. Her godfather
had never said he had purchased Winter specifically for her, only that he
thought he had a mare in his stable that would suit her. And he had never
mentioned that the gray had come from the Duke of Sommesby.
    They set off along the main drag, their progress slower than usual
because of the unprecedented appearance of the Black Duke at such a heavily
trafficked hour. It seemed that every carriage or chaise, especially those
containing women, had to stop and hail him with a word or a greeting.
Katherine would have thought he was deliberately baiting her again, except that
she caught the bored expression on his face, quickly masked, during a lull.
She wondered what it must be like for him to be so badly toadeaten wherever he
went in public, and never to know if people's