A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)(46)

After the dancing, Kate had a short break while the children’s hoop race went off. She made her way toward the canopy, meaning to check on Aunt Marmoset’s comfort.

Mrs. Highwood intercepted her, however, and drew her quickly aside. “Don’t they make a handsome couple?” she said. “I always knew Diana would do better than Minerva. Minerva might have caught herself a viscount, but now Diana will be a marchioness.”

“Mrs. Highwood,” Kate whispered through her teeth. “Please. They’re sitting just a few feet away.”

But the matron went on, undeterred. “Lord Drewe must fancy her. Why else would he have stayed in the village so long?”

“I’ve been giving Lady Lark music lessons.”

Mrs. Highwood erupted in laughter. “Oh, Miss Taylor. Do you expect me to believe a man of Lord Drewe’s fine looks, intelligence, manners, and stature would remain in this tiny village just for you?”

Kate sighed. No, she didn’t expect Mrs. Highwood to believe it.

She didn’t expect anyone to believe it.

Two days had passed since the night she came upon Evan playing the pianoforte in the Bull and Blossom, but those days were wholly consumed with preparations for today’s festivities. There hadn’t been any quiet opportunity to talk.

She kept thinking back to his cryptic comments that night. “That isn’t the only way I can give you the family name.”

Never in her life would she have dreamed that a marquess would hint at marrying her. And Mrs. Highwood was right—no one else would believe it, either.

It didn’t matter, anyhow. Kate was otherwise engaged. Her public intentions, private attention, and, increasingly, tender emotions were all engaged by the man now taking the green.

The hoop race finished, and the militiamen claimed the center of attention for a short rifle drill. As they marched forward in formation, Kate delighted in the opportunity to stare. Pride swelled in her heart.

Thorne was a sight to behold. He wore his best officer’s coat, of course. The uniform was designed to make any man look tall and fit, and when the man in question was already tall and fit, it made him look positively godlike.

“Of course,” said Mrs. Highwood, “you should not feel bad, Miss Taylor. You have snagged yourself a corporal, and that is nothing to sniff at. For a young woman in your circumstances, a corporal is a fine catch indeed. Though I do think you could have managed a lieutenant. That would have been better.”

“Would it?”

Kate couldn’t imagine any man looking fitter, stronger, or more attractive than Thorne appeared to her eyes right now. She would not have traded him for a prince.

Lately, everyone—Mrs. Highwood, Evan, even Thorne himself—kept telling Kate she belonged with a different man. Perhaps common sense would argue the same.

But her heart was saying otherwise, and she couldn’t ignore it any longer. There was a connection between them. Some bond she simply couldn’t give up.

As the militia review concluded and Sir Lewis prepared for the grand finale—his demonstration with the trebuchet—Kate couldn’t stay away.

She left the canopy and plucked the shiny brass helmet from a displayed suit of medieval armor. Jogging across the green, she presented it to Thorne. She just had to be near him.

“Here,” she said, breathless but smiling. “In case of melons.”

He took the helmet and gave it a stern glare.

“Still no laugh?” She ducked and tilted her head, trying to catch his attention. “I was hoping you’d smile, at least. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to keep trying.”

His icy eyes met hers. “Don’t.”

She winced at the curt rejection. It seemed that whatever progress they’d made in Wilmington had vanished. He was shutting the door again.

She would find a window. “I mean to stay after the fair, to help put things to rights. We need some time to talk. Alone.”

“I don’t think—”

“We need to talk. It’s important.”

She took his silence as reluctant agreement.

“Miss Taylor!”

Kate turned to see Lark careening at her like a lawn bowl. Laughing, she grabbed Kate by the hand. “I’m stealing her, Corporal. Don’t try to stop me.”

Little did Lark know, she wasn’t likely to encounter much resistance from Thorne’s quarter. He looked only too pleased to see her go.

“What is it?” Kate asked as Lark tugged her away to a quiet corner of the ruins.

“Oh, Kate.” The young lady flung her arms wide and captured her in an effusive hug. “I’ve been dying to talk to you alone. This is the perfect time, while everyone’s paying attention to the demonstration.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. Everything’s perfect. Evan tells me we’re going to consider it official. He has solicitors coming down to meet you and make everything right. We’re going to claim you as a Gramercy.” Lark gave a little squeal. “We’re cousins. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes,” Kate agreed, grinning. “It is.”

Lark clasped Kate’s hands, swinging them back and forth a bit. “Our holiday will be ending soon. We’ll be leaving Spindle Cove.”

“Oh. Oh, I’ll miss you all very much.”