"Why not with you?" he roared.
Why the devil was he allowed to be offended?
Why not, indeed. "Because I'm a Kerrington, and we do not associate with rakes."
"You're a spinster."
"I'm a woman."
"I think we've established that at least four times."
"The same amount of times I've accosted you. Interesting." Katherine moved to the door, but his hand slammed across the knob.
"Am I that blackened? Tell me you didn't dream of my kiss, don't want my hands on your body. Tell me you don't desire me, and I'll restore your reputation and cry off, forgetting this whole business."
Her body screamed for her to give in to his touch, his masculine scent of soap and tobacco, the gleam in his eyes that promised wicked pleasure.
But as soon as she allowed herself the image of what it would be like to be in his arms, her mind conjured up Paisley. If there was a chance, however slight, that she could be with him…
She cleared her throat. "The only thing I feel for you is revulsion, and that is the truth."
He blinked at her before stepping back, and looked again at her face as if confused. Without another word, he opened the door and took a deep breath, giving her one final glance. It didn't seem possible, but his eyes held pain.
Perhaps the man had feelings after all.
CHAPTER NINE
Impossible Suddenly Quite Possible
Benedict walked to his carriage in silence.
He couldn't find the words to say anything, not even "Whites," which was exactly where he wanted to go, but truthfully if his footman suddenly had an inkling to go to the moon, Benedict would have been more than willing.
Anything to get rid of this ridiculous itch on his chest.
Well, perhaps it wasn't on his chest.
More like inside his chest, not truthfully an itch, more like a feeling, cursed word that that was.
And if he was being honest with himself, it felt quite a lot like the day his nanny chose to give Paisley a new toy and scolded Benedict for being naughty.
Then again, this feeling was much worse. It was hard to breathe, as if each time he opened his mouth he was only able to suck in so much air before his lungs collapsed altogether.
His footman waited patiently.
"Whites," he finally croaked, thankful he was able to at least get that much out.
When had that chit gained the upper hand?
His mind was fuzzy as to how a person could outsmart him, and a woman no less. Had she any idea who he was? What he could do to her if he so chose?
Perhaps he felt positively ill because he knew exactly what Agatha was up to. Never would he consider her mad again, for she had played her cards well.
She had set up a trap, and he had fallen quite perfectly for the bait. Whatever she was up to, he would find out.
The rub, it seemed, was that he truthfully could do nothing to salvage Katherine's reputation. It was good and ruined, which really was a pity. Reputations should be ruined for good reason, not stolen kisses or happy accidents, or in his case, assault.
No, it seemed only fair that she be well and truly ruined, the way a woman with lush curves and pouty lips should be.
In bed.
He laughed.
Most likely his footman now thought him mad, but he didn't care.
His conscience nagged at him, stupid thing that it was. He had tried to dispel it years ago to no avail.
How was he to ruin a girl already ruined, who despised him and to whom he was also engaged?
Well, he was always one for puzzles.
Now all he needed was some very strong tea and a few hours to come up with a plan. Yes, she would rue the day she told the Devil Duke she had no feelings for him. She would rue the day she told him "no".
That night, as Katherine sat opposite her parents in the carriage, she could not shake the feeling of dread in her belly.
Benedict would be attending this night's opera.
She was still ruined.
The ton would be waiting for a scandal, and worst of all, Paisley would be given a front row seat.
"Here we are." Her mother beamed when their carriage pulled up to King's Theatre.
Katherine bit her lip, trying to keep the fluttering of her stomach at bay, and slowly made her way into the opera house.
It was too loud for her to be noticed, with too many people fluttering about.
"…and he has been ever so gracious to let us use his box!" Her mother clapped her hands together.
"Who?" Katherine loudly asked, for she could barely hear herself think.
"Why, the duke, of course."
"Which one?"
Her mother paused. "Have you so quickly forgotten the name of your fiancé?"
Oh, him. "No, apologies. It seems I've become quite… flushed."
Her mother scowled. "I knew I should not have left you alone this morning with that dreadful man. His reputation is black as sin, but surely you know there is no other choice?"
Katherine nodded.
"Did he… make advances toward you?"