Page 19 of The Rogue's Christmas Gift

It always surprised him that women would find a way to form connections and friendship no matter what. Of course there was a league of widows, and he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what this league did for the widows.

“It’s glorious really. They assist widows in need, especially those that are in dire circumstances.” She patted Kitty’s knee. “Although I never had the opportunity to use their services, I did correspond with Lady Wyndam, and she was most sympathetic to my plight.”

Richmore visibly flinched like she had slapped him in the face. If it wasn’t such a morbid topic for his friend and the mood was not as bleak, Harrison would’ve laughed.

It was true that Richmore was indeed evicting Winnie from her family’s home when they’d first encountered each other. Perhaps all relationships had secrets in some form or another.

“The carriages have been unloaded, my lord,” his butler said, standing in the doorway and awaiting further instructions.

“Thank you, Wilson. Please see that everything is taken to the countess’s rooms for Madame Delcour?—”

“Harrison,” Kat admonished him.

“They’re the only rooms prepared and ready unless you would like to stay in my mother’s rooms?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

Richmore cleared his throat. “I think we should be leaving so that we can prepare to go to Brown Manor in the morning while the townhouse is being repaired.”

“Write to Lady Wyndam. I’m sure the League can assist you.” Winnie leaned over, wrapping her arms around Kat.

Richmore sat his empty glass on the sideboard before approaching Harrison. “What about your mother?” he whispered so that only Harrison could hear him.

“I don’t care for her opinion nor do I need her approval. It’s my decision,” Harrison said. The rightness of his words squeezed at his chest as his gaze locked on Kat’s.

His friend nodded. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Richmore patted Harrison’s shoulder before walking over to his wife.

“Come to Brown Manor if you need to,” Winnie told Kat one last time.

“Thank you for everything Winnie, but I need to stay in London and fight. I cannot hide in the country with you.” Kat stood with her friend.

“You mean me and the handsomest heir in London.” Winnie replied, grinning.

“I must agree that my godson is quite dashing.” Harrison smiled, wishing the boy hadn’t returned to Richmore’s townhouse for a nap.

It was strange how being appointed godfather had changed Harrison. It made him long for the day that he would become a father. Although, he was an uncle to his sister’s children, they barely knew him.

Glancing over at Kat he couldn’t stop the path his mind decided to follow. Perhaps it was the fact that they were in his home, walking their friends out like it was an everyday occurrence. The rightness of it all threatened to disarm his resolve to move on with his life without her. It was a plan that Harrison intended to follow conscientiously. However, standing beside Kat as Richmore and Winnie entered their carriage had him longing for a future with her beside him.

Once their friends were gone, they walked back to the parlor in silence. Kat sat down on the sofa, retrieving her abandoned brandy.

Harrison tried to speak several times, finding it rather difficult to speak freely now that they were alone. The hurt and pain from their last meeting still lingered inside Harrison’s heart. He refused to hope that her feelings on marriage had changed; it was evident to him that the only thing Kat cared for was Pleasure House.

He resolved to do everything in his power to assist her, but the dream of Kat ever being his wife had ended. Perhaps it was a boy’s fantasy.

“Thank you, Harrison,” Kat said quietly.

Hazel eyes met his, pressing against his weak resolve.

“You must know that there’s nothing that I won’t do for you, Kat.”

She inhaled, her plump lips opening in shock from his words. The feel of them was still affixed in his memory. It was one he would keep until his dying breath.

“My lord, Mrs. Delcour’s things have been taken into the countess’s rooms. And her maid has been settled in the servants’ quarters,” Wilson said, efficiently, interrupting Harrison’s thoughts.

“Thank you, Wilson. Please have Cook send Mrs. Delcour’s dinner to her rooms.” Harrison instructed the elderly butler.

He knew too well that being suddenly uprooted from one’s home filled a person with uncertainty.

“I’ll show you to your rooms. I’m sure you would like to rest after the day you’ve had.” He held his hand out to her, waiting patiently.