The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(43)

Returning her gaze to the paintings, she kept her voice light. “Hello, yourself. I hadn’t expected to see you today, but I’m glad you’re here. You can help me with these paintings.”

“No offense, but that one on the right doesn’t match.”

“Exactly. I need to find another impressionist painting. Your father has that Monet, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, we recently moved it to the upstairs hall. Would you like to borrow it, along with the Renoir we already discussed?”

“Please. We’d need them for three days next week, if possible.”

“I’ll have someone bring them over tomorrow.” Nellie gestured to the table and chairs. “Can we sit? I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up.”

The somber note in Nellie’s voice caught Katherine’s attention. Her friend wasn’t usually so serious. “Of course. Shall I ring for tea?”

“Or whiskey. Whichever you prefer.”

Katherine tugged on the bell rope. “Whiskey? Goodness, should I be worried?”

“I don’t know.” Nellie dropped onto the sofa and removed her gloves. “Probably.”

An attendant arrived and Katherine ordered a tea service, then sat on the other end of the sofa. “Well, let’s have it.”

“I went to Alice’s supper club last night.”

A prickling sense of dread settled between Katherine’s shoulder blades. “Oh?”

“Yes, and she told me something interesting.”

“Is that so?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re having an affair with Preston Clarke?”

Katherine smothered a grimace. Not so much an affair as teasing him, letting him watch her pleasure herself. Her cheeks heated at the memory.

“You’re blushing,” Nellie exclaimed. “What happened between you two? Last I heard about Preston, you stormed out of his office after telling him off over the betrothal.”

She let out a long breath. “I’ll fill you in, but please don’t judge me.”

“Goodness, Katie.” Nellie shook her head. “You know me better than that. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“The whole thing is embarrassing. You’re going to think I’m foolish.”

“Well, now you must tell me everything.”

Katherine started explaining, from the ball and Jane Street apartment, to Sherry’s and the supper club. “It’s harmless fun,” she finished.

“You’re attracted to Preston.”

“Very.”

“I assumed, otherwise you never would’ve gone to meet him that night, fully prepared to let him be the first man you slept with.”

It was true. Katherine sighed. “I wish I could explain it. There’s something about him. At the ball, he was intense but surprisingly sweet. And the things he says . . . It’s like he flips a switch inside me that causes me to lose my mind.”

“Hmm.” Nellie frowned as the footman arrived with their tea service. It took a few minutes for the tea to be poured, and then they were alone again.

Katherine picked up where they left off, eager to get answers. “You sound disappointed that I’m attracted to Preston.”

“No, but I can’t understand why you were hiding it from me. It hurt my feelings, Katie.”

Katherine hurried to put her cup down, then reached for Nellie’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Then, why? You know the absolute worst about me, all the embarrassing and socially unacceptable things I’ve done. How could you possibly think I’d ever judge you?”

“Because I know you don’t like him. I was worried you’d try to talk me out of it.”

“I might have at first, but if it’s something you want then I’ll support you. I’ll help in any way I can.”

Guilt settled in Katherine’s stomach like a lead weight. Her eyes started to tear up as she said, “I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.”

Nellie’s gaze grew glassy, as well. “Katie, I love you like a sister. I don’t know what I would do without you. Even at my worst, you’ve stuck by me. So, don’t think you’re getting rid of me now.”

Katherine leaned over and threw her arms around her friend. “I love you, too, and I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of you.”

They stayed that way for a long minute. When they’d both recovered enough, they pulled apart. Nellie dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. “Do not make me cry, Katherine Eloise Delafield.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Eleanor Lucinda Young.”

“Now, I want to hear more about Preston. I’m assuming with all his experience he has skills you’ve put to good use.”

Katherine thought about what happened in the back of Preston’s box and in the carriage. Honestly, she wouldn’t change a thing. “Do you really want details?”

“From the queen of details? Of course I do. I bet you remember every naughty word and filthy kiss.”

“I do, but it wouldn’t be proper for me to share all of it, would it?”

“Maybe just one or two little morsels,” Nellie said, reaching for a small tea cake. “You know I won’t tell anyone.”