Intolerable Civility

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Jealous One

Cate stayed up very late that night, waiting for David and Sarah to return. The thought of them alone together in a small coach made her anxious now. Was Laurie right about Sarah being in love with David?

It would perhaps explain some things. Like the way Sarah kept prolonging her stay in Wales, even though she had initially wanted to return quickly to London. And perhaps also the possessive way she behaved about the house, offering tea to David or directing the servants. That was Cate's position as lady of the house. Not Sarah's.

David did not encourage Sarah's feelings and would never encourage any uncousinly affection. Cate was quite sure of that. Nevertheless, while she waited for them to return, she kept thinking of the close proximity of the coach, of Sarah perhaps resting her knee against David's, of Sarah trying to flirt, in the clumsy way she would flirt, and David politely ignoring it, the way he would. What was Sarah thinking!? David was a married man — oh, to be sure, their marriage was irregular, but she wore his ring on her finger and bore his name. It was a betrayal of womanly friendship for Sarah to harbour secret feelings for him, as well as an insult to David's honour. Unless, of course, Sarah planned to keep her feelings secret and never utter a word, but if she did, why was she here, with him? Why not pine from a distance and try to forget him?

Unless, perhaps, she was not in love with him at all and Laurie was mistaken, or merely malicious. But the more Cate thought about Sarah, the more it seemed that the only explanation for her strange behaviour was some secret passion for David.

It was well past midnight when Cate heard them return. Voices spoke softly from below, then footsteps sounded in the gallery outside the private bedrooms. Cate went to the door of her dark sitting room on silent, bare feet and listened, her heart racing, feeling guilty for eavesdropping.

"Goodnight then, cousin." Sarah yawned loudly. "My goodness, I'm tired. I will sleep like the dead tonight, I am sure."

"Goodnight, Sarah."

David's door opened then shut softly while Sarah continued yawning. There was a silent pause, then Sarah's footsteps moved briskly off down the gallery. Cate thought they sounded annoyed. What did she expect? Sympathy for her yawning? Compliment?

But perhaps Cate was being uncharitable. She went to the door that connected her sitting room to David's bedroom and knocked.

"Cate?" David spoke from the other side. "Did we wake you?"

"I wasn't sleeping. Can we talk?"

"It's late. I'm just about to go to bed."

"I know. Something happened today. Please."

There was a brief pause, then the key snapped in the lock and the door opened. David had already taken off his coat and cravat, and stood there in his shirt and vest, with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The flame of the single candle on his washstand flickered, sending shadows dancing over the planes of his lean, muscular arms. Cate swallowed.

"Cate?"

"Yes. Um. While you were out, um, Luke had his first tantrum."

David laughed softly. "Did he? He's growing up. What about?"

"He didn't want a bath. I thought he would scream the roof down."

"Charming. Cate, my dear, I'm very tired. Can this not wait til morning?"

My dear. Cate's heart skipped a beat. "That could, but it is not all I have to say. David, Herbert Oliver called on me today."

The smile froze on David's face. "I warned him off."

"He's not the kind of man who cares for warnings. Or perhaps he waited until he knew you were out of the house."

"Did you speak to him?"