A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)(45)

“I am soothed to hear it.” He took her hand in his and regarded it carefully. Thoughtfully. “Do you care for him?”

“Thorne? I . . .” She hesitated, but only to choose her phrasing. The answer was instinctive. “I do care. I care very much.”

“Do you love him?”

Now here was something she’d been avoiding asking herself. But she couldn’t let pass the opportunity to unburden her heart. Evan was family.

“I think I could come to love him,” she said. “If he would let me.”

Evan’s thumb rubbed a lazy circle on the back of her hand. “It’s plain you have a brave and generous heart. I imagine you could love just about anyone, if you made up your mind to do it. But you deserve a man who can love you in return.”

Kate smiled a little, nervously.

His grasp on her hand was warm and firm. “I mean to take care of you. I want you to know this. If there’s no legacy allotted in the terms of Simon’s estate, I will ensure that you have one. You will be an independent woman of significant wealth. A woman with choices.” He leaned meaningfully on that last word.

She swallowed. “Evan, you needn’t do that for me. I’ve never had any expectation of—”

“I have expectations of myself, Kate.” His eyes glittered in the dark. “I have a passion for protecting this family. And that passion now extends to you.”

A silence opened between them. As they regarded one another, Kate’s curiosity grew.

He had a “passion” for her. The insides of her elbows tingled. What did that mean, exactly?

“Corporal Thorne is a good man,” she said.

“Perhaps. But is he the best man for you?” He looked down at where their hands remained linked. “Kate, it’s possible we won’t accumulate enough evidence to satisfy the courts of your identity. But that’s not the only way I can give you the family name.”

She stared at him through the flickering shadows. Surely he didn’t mean that the way it sounded. He couldn’t possibly be hinting at—

A floorboard creaked, and Kate startled.

Evan released her hand. “Just the dog. Don’t be alarmed.”

Relief washed over her. Nothing improper had passed between the two of them. At least, she didn’t think it had. But she cringed to imagine how the scene could have looked to a gossip-minded villager. That would be a juicy rumor for Sally Bright to stock in the All Things shop—Miss Taylor holding hands with Lord Drewe, when she was engaged to Corporal Thorne?

But no one would believe that rumor, Kate assured herself. A girl like her, courted by two virile, powerful men—and one of them a lord? She felt silly for even entertaining the idea herself.

Wrapping her dressing gown tight around her chest, she rose from the chair and gathered Badger.

“I’d best go back to the rooming house,” she said. “Please don’t stay up too late seething on my account.”

He gave her an intent look and a cryptic smile. “I make no promises.”

Chapter Twelve

By Spindle Cove custom, the midsummer fair was a children’s festival. But readying the crumbling Norman castle for its annual day of merriment required all the foresight and strategy of a military campaign.

There were so many preparations to complete. Music, dancing, food, displays, general amusement. Kate was responsible for the first two items on that list, and she’d worked hard toward the success of the latter three as well.

By mid-morning, however, she seemed doomed to fail at them all.

First Miss Lorrish brought distressing news about the decorations. “Miss Taylor, we’ve tried three times now. The swags simply won’t stay put on the southeastern turret.”

Kate shaded her brow with one hand and gazed up at the limp purple bunting dangling sadly from the crenellated parapet. “I’ll ask the militiamen to climb up and secure it.”

Next, it was Miss Apperton’s turn for a crisis. “Oh, Miss Taylor. I’ve broken the last good string for my lute.”

“You may borrow mine,” she offered.

Another hour smoothed most of the wrinkles, as children and families began to stream in from the countryside and village.

But then there was Miss Elliott. Poor, petrified Miss Elliott. The hapless young lady came skittering to Kate’s side moments before the ladies were to sing the madrigal.

“I can’t.” Beneath her bonnet’s wide brim, her cheeks blazed scarlet. “I just can’t do it.”

“You won’t be alone,” Kate assured her. “We’re all singing together.”

“But there are so many people. I didn’t realize—” Her voice broke. “Please don’t force me.”

“Don’t weep.” Kate drew her into a tight hug. “Of course I won’t force you. Just as long as you understand, I’m not giving up on you, either. We’ll hear you sing another day.” She pulled back and tilted her head to view under Miss Elliott’s bonnet. “Now, then. Chin high, keep smiling. Right?”

Miss Elliott sniffed and tried to smile. “Yes, of course.”

Poor girl.

When Kate considered that she might have been reunited with exacting relations like Miss Elliott’s, she felt the magnitude of her good fortune.

Her gaze slid to the Gramercys, seated under the canopy reserved for guests of honor. In the center were two flower-bedecked thrones. Kate had asked Evan to sit as ceremonial king of the fair, with Diana Highwood playing the part of his regal, placid queen.