Untamed (38 page)

Harry snorted. “So say you. Women don’t have to think about these things. They
know.
They’ve eyes like eagles and noses like bloodhounds. Take our advice. Send that particular baggage packing and go to Kate. Gav’s right on the mark. If you don’t at least try to mend matters, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days. When it comes down to it, Rourke, regrets are a far more bitter tonic for a man to swallow than sins.”

As soon as the men returned home, Rourke meant to take his friends’ advice and go in search of Kate. Felicity’s waylaying him was an unpleasant surprise. She must have been watching from an upstairs window because she stepped off the stair landing before the main door closed. She flounced into the front hallway wearing a garish, low-cut gown more suited to evening than day.

Slanted gaze tunneling to Rourke, she said, “I must speak with you—in private.”

Gavin and Harry exchanged frowns but made their excuses to be on their way. Before going, Harry muttered, “Mind regrets versus sins.”

Rourke blew out a breath. His friends’ counsel had included sending Felicity packing. Apparently there was no time like the present. Resigned, he led her into his library and closed the door.

Leaning back against the front of his desk, he regarded her. “Very well, Felicity, I’m listening. Not promising, only listening. Out with it.”

Slanted green eyes met his. She whetted her lower lip. “The other day you asked me what I wanted, and I’m prepared to tell you. I want another go of it with you.”

“In case you havena noticed, I’m married now.” He almost added “happily” but held off. The outcome remained to be seen, but his afternoon with Gavin and Harry had him feeling hopeful.

“Oh, Rourkie, you were always so good to me, only I didn’t properly appreciate you back then.” She batted her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes.

Such artifice once would have melted him, but not so now. How very much more appealing he found Kate’s honest, head-on gaze to be.

Patience nearing its end, Rourke shook his head. “It’s water under the bridge now.”

And it was. If he’d to sum up the paltry feelings he still had for her in a single word it would be
pity.
He doubted Felicity would ever know the glory of loving another person with all one’s soul. Though his own dabbling in matters of the heart hadn’t worked out according to plan, not yet at any rate, loving Kate had made him a better man. He wouldn’t trade their blissful honeymoon week for all the world’s riches—which stood as quite a statement for such an acquisitive man.

“Since you can’t have me, have you anything else in mind?” Knowing Felicity, he felt certain she had a backup plan.

She hesitated and then admitted, “The other night at dinner, I may have gilded the lily a bit about my theatrical career.”

Rourke listened in silence. That didn’t surprise him in the slightest.

“I can’t go on dancing in that horrid club in Leicester Square night upon night, I just can’t, but it’s hard for a girl like me to get a leg over in a city like London. But if I had a place of my own where I could set myself up as the headliner, like your friend Daisy does, well, that would make all the difference.”

Distracted with thoughts of Kate, it took Rourke a moment to reckon Felicity’s game. Once he did, it was as if a lamp had just been turned up. “You want the Palace, don’t you?”

She nodded. “With all your money, you’ll never miss it, and it would mean ever so much to me.”

Relief had him feeling generous. So it was only the theater she coveted. Surrendering a property he’d never wanted in the first place was a small price to pay to rid himself of a nuisance. “Verra well, I’ll sign over the deed before you leave.” The latter was by way of being a strong hint.

The property in Covent Garden had been boarded up for two years. Ordinarily he would have offered it to Gavin and Daisy, but they had unpleasant memories of the place. The Tudor-era theatre they’d just restored was the ideal setting for putting on the Shakespeare plays they both loved. The point was, the Palace was sitting fallow. Turning it over to Felicity seemed the solution to serve everyone. How she would finance its opening was her private affair. Given her talents for “getting a leg over” well-heeled swells, he expected she’d work something out.

“Truly!” She squealed and launched herself into his arms.

Felicity had always been a substantial armful and the past few years had not lightened her load. Reflex had him closing his arms about her. Before now he’d always fancied big-boned women with blousy bosoms and full bottoms, but now it was Kate’s lithe, tight little body his arms ached to hold.

She laid a hand alongside his face. “I didn’t say the theatre was all I wanted. Come to London with me. You and I together, we could take London by storm.”

Rourke had had his fill of storms. He was ready to experience the equivalent of placid spring skies—with his wife.

Gently but firmly he eased her off his chest. The intimate contact brought back one or two pleasant memories but no real desire. “I wish you the best, lass, but we’re done, in that way.”

She arched a brow. “As I recall, we were quite good in
that way.
I could make you happy, Patrick. I did once, mind.”

Rourke shook his head. “You never made me happy, Felicity. We had some grand times for certain, but that was all we had. You and I lusted, but we never loved. Now I must ask you to excuse me. I’m off to find my wife and tell her I’m mad for her.”

Kate headed for the library at a fast walk. The afternoon spent with Callie and Daisy had bolstered her confidence and put her marriage into perspective. She and Patrick were not the only newlyweds to go through a rough patch—or even several. Hang her pride, this time she would find the courage to tell Patrick all that was in her heart, that she loved him and was honored to be his wife. If need be, she would cast herself at his feet like her Shakespearian namesake post-taming. What she absolutely refused to do was let him go.

The study door stood ajar when Kate approached. Surmising he must be entertaining Gavin and Harry, she tamped down her disappointment and turned to go.

Felicity’s voice filtered out into the hallway, stalling Kate in her tracks. “Come to London with me.”

Heart drumming, Kate stepped stealthily to the side and peered through the crack. Rourke and Felicity stood in a close embrace. Her husband had both arms about the redhead. Felicity’s head was tilted upward as if anticipating his kiss, her hand bracing his cheek. He did not look like a man who had just said no.

Kate felt as if an invisible fist plowed into her belly. The pleasant warmth of the sherry coursing through her veins turned to ice water. For a handful of seconds, she feared she might be sick. Pride, or rather the shredded remains of it, was all that held her back. To be found not only eavesdropping but retching outside her husband’s door would seal her humiliation. To think that she’d been prepared to cast herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness!

So far in her marriage she’d been twice a fool, but if Rourke fancied she was fool enough to stay while he kept a mistress in London, he had best think again.

ourke left the library and Felicity behind, only too glad to close that chapter of his life. He would sign over the deed to the Palace after breakfast in the morning, and then put his former mistress on the first train back to London. Their business done, she’d declared she meant to have a lie down before dinner. She might have hung upside down by her ankles for all he cared.

He came into the front hallway as Daisy and Caledonia entered from the side parlor. Dividing his gaze between the two women, he sketched a brief bow and then asked, “Where is Kate?”

Frowning, Daisy spoke up, “I thought she was with—”

Callie’s hand clamping down on her companion’s arm caused the sentence to die. “I’m not sure,” Callie answered for them both. “I believe she said something about going upstairs to have a lie down before supper.”

Daisy and Callie were acting odd, indeed, but odder still was that Kate would be napping with guests in the house. His wife was the most industrious woman he’d ever known. He doubted that her idol, Mrs. Beeton, could have possessed more energy and enthusiasm than she. From what he could tell, afternoon naps were unknown to Kate. It occurred to him to wonder if she might be pregnant. Though it was a wild guess, and as yet unsubstantiated, it was certainly possible. Before the previous week’s rift, they’d made love all but nonstop. Excitement seized him. He excused himself to the two women and bounded up the stairs.

He gained the minstrel’s gallery and headed down the sconce-lit corridor to the master-bedroom suite. He considered knocking outside Kate’s door, but prudence and pride held him back. This last week they’d hardly been on the best of terms. Instead, he entered his own chamber and headed for the connecting door.

He could hear her moving about. From the sounds of thrashing, she must be banging dresser drawers and stomping on floorboards. His heart leapt into his throat. Might she be moving furniture? Packing?

He opened the dressing-room door only to find her standing on the opposite side, her fist raised. “I was just coming to speak with you.” She lowered her hand to her side and stepped back for him to enter.

The room was at sixes and sevens, clothes strewn about, books and journals and bric-a-brac dumped onto the bed. For a woman who prided herself on her household-management capabilities, it was one hellish mess. Mrs. Beeton would most definitely not have approved.

He swung his gaze back to Kate, standing in the center of the room. “Going somewhere?”

“I’ve done a great deal of thinking this past week, and I’ve come to the conclusion there is indeed no point in our being leg-shackled to one another any longer than we can help it.”

“Kate!”

“Why should we go on deceiving our friends, ourselves, when it is painfully obvious to all that we will never suit?”

His gaze bore into hers. “So it’s a divorce you want, then? To obtain one, one of us would have to claim adultery.”

Her eyes flashed wide. For a half second, it occurred to him to ask what she might be thinking. He couldn’t imagine Kate being unfaithful to him.

She swung her head to the side. “Not a divorce, but a separation. You have only to have the deed drawn up and I will sign it.”

“Is that really what you wish?” He felt as though she’d slashed open a vital vein and left him to bleed out.

She nodded. “It is.”

Thinking of all the ways they’d made love in this very room, Rourke felt his throat tightening. “In that case, I will provide you with an annual allowance for your maintenance, enough to allow you to set up a household independent of your father.”

Eyes bleak, she gave a sharp, quick nod. “That is generous of you.”

He moved toward her, settling his hands atop her shoulders. As much as he loved her and wanted her to stay, what he most wanted for her was to be happy.

“I willna tell you what to do with your portion, but I will say privately and because I care for you that you’re a fool if you give your father as much as a farthing. He’s a wastrel, Katie, a drunkard and a gamester. He doesna deserve you. Dinna let him take from you any more than he already has. If it’s freedom you want, then
be
free.” He let his hands drop to his sides. “I’ll ask Gavin to draw up the papers, only there’s nay need to dampen tonight’s birthday celebration. Our news can keep until tomorrow.”