Kate gave herself a violent mental shake. She would be in deep, deep trouble if she couldn’t contain her captivation.
Thankfully Deverill interrupted her muddled ruminations. “How did you find me?” he asked with a note of curiosity.
“At my request, the harbormaster was on the lookout for your ship and alerted me when you docked. I sent a servant to question him about where you were lodging.”
“I admire your resourcefulness, if not your prudence. What the devil are you doing here?”
“May I come in?” Kate pressed. “I wish to speak to you, and I would rather not hold our conversation out here in the corridor.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped back to allow her entrance and closed the door behind her, although he didn’t appear elated by her presence. “Could you not have waited until I called on you tomorrow?”
“I felt sure there would be awkwardness between us, and thought it best to deal with it in private.”
“Will you be seated?”
Glancing around the small chamber, she saw a table and two chairs, a washstand, and a bed, which reminded her uncomfortably of their last ignominious encounter. Kate smiled amiably to cover her discomfort. “I will stand, thank you. This should not take long.”
“Good. It would be best if you weren’t seen visiting my bedchamber. Does your brother know of your whereabouts?”
“No, and I don’t intend for him to find out.”
“Beaufort would have my head if he knew you were in my room.”
“You needn’t worry. Ash is in the country and is not expected to arrive in London until tomorrow.”
Deverill scrutinized her costume. “You aren’t concerned that someone might recognize the beautiful Lady Katharine Wilde?”
“No one looks twice at a footman.”
“Thus the disguise. You make a fetching lad.”
His compliment flustered her, but he followed it with a censorious remark. “Evidently you haven’t changed. You make a habit of frequenting gentlemen’s hotel rooms.”
“Not all gentlemen,” she returned archly. “Only yours.”
“Should I be flattered?”
She sent him her most charming smile. “Indeed, you should,” she quipped before catching herself. She had no business engaging in spirited repartee with Deverill as they’d enjoyed in the past.
Fortunately, he changed the subject by rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “Would you object if I continue shaving while we talk? My cousin Trey should arrive shortly to convey me about town. I have business with my solicitor regarding issues of the inheritance, and then plan to dine with Trey and his wife, Antonia, this evening.”
Kate had met Brandon’s distant English cousin, Trey Deverill, years ago, although she had not seen him recently and had never met his new wife. “No, I wouldn’t object.”
Deverill went to the washstand and picked up a cake of soap. “It has been a while since I last saw you,” he mused aloud as he began making a lather.
Six years, two months, and nine days. With another mental shake, Kate focused her thoughts on the future, not the past. “Aunt Bella has generally kept me abreast of your situation. I was sorry to hear of your uncle’s passing.”
Deverill nodded solemnly. ?
?Reportedly Valmere was in a great deal of pain, so perhaps it was a blessing. I plan to travel to Kent this week to pay my respects to his remaining kin and make arrangements to provide for them.”
Kate was aware of Deverill’s lineage. His late grandfather, a younger son of a British baron, had emigrated to Virginia in America decades ago and married into a prominent merchant family who owned a fleet of sailing ships. This past January the current Baron Valmere—Augustus Deverill—had succumbed to a lingering illness, leaving behind a widowed daughter and two young granddaughters. The title and entailed properties had devolved to Brandon as the closest male relation.
For a moment, silence reigned as he lathered his face with soap. Watching, Kate found herself distracted by the sheer allure of his bare torso. Without volition her gaze skimmed over his wide shoulders and followed his tapered back to his lean waist, then lower to his tight buttocks and powerful thighs encased in buff knit breeches—
She looked away quickly so Deverill wouldn’t catch her admiring his lamentably impressive body. “Would you mind donning a dressing gown?”
“Regrettably, I don’t have one with me.”