Katherine laughed. Did she truly look that horrendous? "No, I'm sure his grace wouldn't mind for me to visit. You see, I'm his fiancée."
At that, the butler's lips quirked into a smile and then his eyes darkened. "You poor thing."
"Pardon?"
He sighed. "I'll see if he is receiving callers. Why don't I show you to the Lavender room? Would you care for some tea, miss?"
"Lady Katherine Bourne."
"Pardon, did you say Lady Katherine Bourne?"
"Yes."
"W-well, why don't you have a seat, there, right there." His shaky hand pointed to the settee. "And I'll have Ma—" he coughed. "That is to say, I will have someone, anyone bring you tea."
"Alright." She smiled warmly and leaned back against the sofa, taking in the beautiful room surrounding her.
It was done up in purples and eggshell colors, beautiful actually, and not masculine at all. After a few minutes, she began to feel the need to snoop. After all, he was to be her husband in a manner of days.
Her eyes fell on the large bookcase at the far end of the room. Her gloved hand traced the furniture as she made her way to the books and began reading the titles.
Odd, they were all in strange languages. Curious, she picked one up.
And promptly dropped it to the floor.
What type of man kept books with pictures like — like that?
She tried another.
Same thing.
And another, until she had looked through at least ten books. All of them with graphic pictures she would never be able to remove from her memory as long as she lived.
Carefully, she put them all back, the last one, however had fallen on its spine causing the first page to flutter open.
Scrawled across the page were the words, My love, Maria.
Who in the blazes was Maria?
A sudden commotion took place outside the doors. A woman's voice. A man's. And then suddenly the door burst open.
A beautiful woman with dark hair and dark eyes came into the room. Her uniform was typical of a servant, and in her hand was a tray with tea and biscuits.
"Hello," Katherine greeted.
The woman glared.
Katherine cleared her throat. "You must be the housekeeper?" she guessed.
"Yes," the woman answered crisply.
A butler who stuttered and laughed, and a beautiful exotic woman with the manners of a streetwalker.
Apparently before any decoration was to take place, Benedict needed a new staff.
"Please, sit." The woman's eyes fell to the book in Katherine's hands then snapped back up to her face. "Find anything interesting, my lady?"
"O-oh, this? No, no, it fell, so I was putting it back." She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she pushed the book into its rightful place and shuffled back to the sofa where the housekeeper was laying out the biscuits and tea.
Katherine couldn't help but notice how striking the woman was. She could not be much older than Katherine herself. Jealousy surged, but Katherine fought it with everything in her. Perhaps Benedict was extending a courtesy. After all, a woman this striking would surely find herself in a house of ill repute if left to her own devices to survive. Shame washed over her jealousy.
As the woman made a curtsy to leave, Katherine reached out the only way she knew how, politeness. "Thank you… Apologies, I did not catch your name?" Not that it was typical for ladies to ask such things, but this woman did not need to know that.
The woman gave a hollow laugh. "Maria, his grace's seventh housekeeper in two years."
Odd. "Does he have trouble keeping housekeepers, Maria?" Katherine asked with amusement tickling her voice.
Maria turned cold eyes to Katherine. "Let us just say his grace has a variety of tastes."
Benedict awoke with a start.
His butler, Marsail, hovered over him, worry etched in his every feature.
"What the devil are you doing in my room?"
Marsail cleared his throat. "A young lady is here to see you, your grace. I thought it best to keep her away from other parts of the house, but I fear…"
"Who? Who is it?" Benedict demanded.
Marsail began to perspire. "She claims she is your fiancée, but that is a ridiculous notion, is it not?" He patted his forehead with a handkerchief.
Benedict reached for Marsail's coat and pulled him close. "Tell me that Maria is no longer here. Tell me that Lady Katherine has been locked in the very room you put her in."
Marsail looked away. "Maria stole the key."
"How does a tiny woman steal a key from you, of all people?"
Marsail began to shake.
"Never mind." Benedict cursed and pulled on his clothes in rapid fashion. His valet rolled his eyes when he strolled into the room, but aided in making him presentable, mumbling something under his breath that at least his grace was choosing to wear clothes after such a late evening.
Benedict chose not to comment.
He raced down the stairs and pushed open the doors to the Lavender room with such urgency he could have sworn they were going to fly off their hinges.
Katherine sat prim and proper, tea in hand, but her eyes were distant.
"Katherine?"
She licked her lips. "I shouldn't have come." She placed her tea on the table and rose.
"No, don't." Benedict reached out to her, but she pulled away.