Her breath caught in her throat. “Iamdisfigured,” she whispered.
“Is that what he told you? Rubbish.” Carlisle waved a hand as though dismissing the whole notion as silly. Katie felt a shock course through her body. Her entire life she’d felt the weight of her birthmark as though it were a boulder on her face pulling her down. And now Carlisle acted as though it were nothing, a piece of lint to be swept away.
“You can see for yourself,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat, which only made her birthmark redder.
“What I see is a lovely woman with thick, wavy brown hair that is probably as soft to touch as it looks.”
Katie reached for her hair, having forgotten she’d taken it down before he climbed in.
Carlisle took another step closer. “And with brown eyes the likes of which I’ve never seen.” He bent slightly and stared into her eyes. Katie stared back, finding it quite impossible to look away. “Your lashes are so thick you almost look as though you are wearing kohl. There are women I know who would pay a fortune to look like that naturally.”
“Only a disreputable woman would wear kohl.”
“That’s why they’d want to come by it naturally.” He cocked his head, still studying her. Katie wanted to look down, to shield her face, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from his. “I probably shouldn’t comment on your mouth.” His gaze slid lower. “Or your body. What else am I allowed to comment on? Your hands?” He took them in his, and Katie felt a shock of warmth. “Lovely, long fingers, and—” He turned her right hand to the side, exposing a stain from her paints that hadn’t yet faded completely. “Are you a great writer?” he asked, obviously mistaking the paint for ink.
“I paint,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
“An artist as well.” He smiled up at her, his blue eyes captivating.
She wanted to move closer to him, to let him keep talking, keep complimenting her, but she knew this was just a game to him. He was just complimenting her to coax information from her. Katie pulled her hands away and took a step back, breaking the contact and hopefully his hold on her.
“From where I stand, you don’t owe your father anything.”
“He might not have treated me as I would have liked, but he’s still my father,” she said. “I won’t betray him to the man he hates.”
“So hedoeshate me.”
Katie closed her eyes.Well, why not?she thought. She could tell Carlisle that much. “Yes, he hates you. He’s always hated you. He’s been planning his revenge for years and years, and you, Your Grace, played right into his hand.”
Chapter Six
Henry took astep back. Nothing she said should have surprised him, and yet her words were like a slap across his cheek. “Why should the marquess hate me?” he said, voicing the first thought that came to him. “I’ve done nothing to him. I barely know the man. I know your brothers a little. We’ve crossed paths from time to time, but I haven’t spoken more than polite greetings to any of them. I haven’t cut them or snubbed them, or you or the marquess.”
Lady Katherine’s eyes, which had looked wary a moment before, turned soft brown. He could see the pity in them, and he didn’t want it.
“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t feel sorry for me.” He didn’t need her pity, oranyone’spity. He never had. “Just explain, please. I want to understand.”
“It’s nothing you’ve done,” she said quietly. “It’s not about you.”
She made less and less sense every time she opened her mouth. “Then why—”
Lady Katherine’s head jerked to the side, and she seemed to be listening to something. Henry heard a woman’s voice speaking to a servant and could have punched a wall in frustration. Why now?
“You have to go.” Lady Katherine put her hands on his chest and pushed him toward the window. “You must climb out ofhere. That’s Mrs. Murray. She is coming to my chamber. If she catches you here with me…”
Henry didn’t need her to elaborate. He understood that he should not be alone with an unmarried young woman in her bedchamber. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered that before he climbed up to her window, but he judged the risk minimal. They were in the countryside. Even if they were discovered, the news was unlikely to travel to London.
But now that he knew the Marquess of Shrewsbury hated him, Henry understood there was another danger for Lady Katherine. Her father might find out she was associating with the enemy.
Henry took her hands from his chest. “There’s no time for that,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’ll hide under the bed.”
She looked from the bed to the window then down to their hands. “Yes, you’re right. Hurry and be silent.”
“I will. On one condition.”
Lady Katherine gave the door a wild look and then turned back to Henry, panic in her eyes. “There’s no time.”
Indeed, at that moment, there was a knock on the door. “My lady?”
