Chapter 13 #2
“Madeline,” the baroness said, her voice urgent but calm. “Go to your Grandpapa. Now. Tell him that it is almost time for fireworks by the terrace. Do anything to get him to leave that marble statue and those gentlemen alone.”
“Yes, Grandmama,” Madeline replied hastily.
Just like all the other Quinten girls, Madeline was quick to move. The girls had spent years acting as their grandfather’s ears. They had also been known to run after their father.
“You all do make a charming family,” Anne said sarcastically, letting out a tinkling laugh.
How could someone so vicious have a laugh that sounded like music?
“I shall leave you all then to your... duties,” she continued. “Do remember, though, that your new title cannot hide what your blood shows. Once His Grace realizes that, he will move on to the next woman. Perhaps he already has a mistress in mind.”
She then gave them a mocking curtsy before gliding away. Cathy closed her mouth. She would not be watching that woman with her mouth open.
“Pay no mind to her,” her grandmother whispered, steering her to a slightly private alcove. “Miss Longrove may be pretty, but she is a viper. I know her kind. She may seem proper, but she is rotten to the core. At the moment, she is bitter about losing her prize. She wants to see you fumble.”
Cathy might be much taller than her grandmother, but she let herself be steered.
She did not really want to stay where they were.
People were watching too closely. They might no longer be laughing, but their eyes were.
The orchestra had resumed playing, as if the musicians were too aware that the drama had ended.
Her gaze darted left and right, frantically scanning the crowd for a familiar, tall, and broad-shouldered man.
Where is he?
Tristan was no longer standing where he was before. She wondered whether he had heard the insults and seen how everyone reacted, but he was nowhere to be seen.
‘The Duke will tire of you.’
Anne’s words continued to ring in her ears. A cold lump of dread settled within her. Perhaps, he had heard about how everyone seemed to think that she had set a calculated trap to raise herself above her current situation. Was he already looking to replace her with a mistress?
“She is right, though, Grandmama,” Cathy whispered, as she tried to stop her voice from cracking. “Our family is in shambles and would never be accepted in society. For the Duke, I am nothing more than a novelty. Someone to save from a scandal.”
“Utter nonsense,” her Grandmama said, smoothing her bodice.
It was her clue that the older woman was nervous.
The actions were unnecessary. For once, Cathy could hope to be somewhat beautiful.
Her dress, hair, and jewels were impeccable, and not just old things being brought back to life.
“You are the Duchess of Baxter. That cannot be changed.”
“That is what I am afraid of.”
“You have the protection of the Duke and your own title. His purse commands attention, too, mind you. All will be well now. He will take care of you and your sisters. While he was most certainly too familiar with women, that is over now. He is a man of his word.”
“A man of his word,” Cathy muttered. “Look what that did to him.”
“I believe he is also a practical man, Cathy,” Lady Marlow said, looking Cathy in the eye. “If you are good to him and present to him a pleasant disposition while helping to manage his home and give him an heir, he has no reason to look elsewhere. Men can be simple creatures like that.”
“A pleasant disposition?” Cathy echoed incredulously. “We barely coexist in the same room, Grandmama. We are two lines that do not cross, except perhaps during the silent meals when I have more interaction with the butler and the footmen.”
The baroness stiffened. Her hand immediately dropped from what she was doing, as she backed away to assess her granddaughter.
“What do you mean you barely coexist, Cathy?” she asked, sounding aghast. “Surely, you do not mean… even in the bedchamber?”
“Grandmama!” Cathy’s cheeks burned. “He... he has not set foot in my bedchambers. I mean... I told him to respect my solitude, and he did. Now, he spends his days chopping wood, locking himself in his study, or managing his estates.”
“You have forbidden your own husband from entering your chambers?” The old woman was shocked. “What will people say?”
“What can people say? Do they need to know what is happening behind closed doors? We are strangers, Grandmama, who just happen to be married.”
The baroness looked even paler, then, as if she could not fathom how her granddaughter would think that way. She fanned herself to slightly disguise the strangled whisper that could not help but escape her throat.
“Kathleen Quinten! Are you telling me that your marriage to the Duke has, so far, been unconsummated?”
Cathy flinched at that word. Why must it feel like a huge obligation? A requirement? She knew it was. Peers of the realm married to have heirs, more than they did for love.
“I know he married me out of obligation, Grandmama. I told him that I did not wish for his pity. It was an arrangement to quell the scandal and protect what little of our reputations remains. He is staying away as requested.”
“You fool!” the baroness scolded with a frantic whisper. She held her granddaughter’s shoulders.
Cathy expected to be shaken, but no. The baroness merely held her tightly to say, “Do you have any idea what you are doing? I know you. You have your own mind, but at the moment, you are standing on the edge of a precipice on a breezy day. People like Miss Longrove would gladly push you with their little finger.”
“I am trying to keep what is left of my dignity, Grandmama!” Cathy protested, her temper flaring. “I cannot be a conquest the Duke would eventually tire of. Let him at least wonder why I cannot be conquered.”
“It is not a matter of dignity or pride, Cathy!” Lady Marlow retorted.
“You are married. That is part of your obligations—to provide the Duke with heirs. Don’t you want to have children of your own?
Besides, who will pay for your sisters’ dowries?
He is an honorable man, but he is also human.
What will happen if he dies with no heir and another man comes to claim his title? ”
“What do you mean? What would you have me do?” Cathy asked, even though the sinking feeling in her belly.
“Why, you must seduce your husband!” the baroness hissed. “You must keep him happy and enamored with you. You have to claim your position so that you will never be removed from it. Don’t you want the people who have been talking about you to swallow their words?”
“Oh, you mean the ones who say that he will tire of me? Or that I am not attractive to him?”
“Who said all that?” her grandmother demanded. “Whatever the case may be, you must bind him to you. The wedding is not enough! It is just the beginning.”
“I will not seduce him,” Cathy grumbled, although she suspected that she had no way out of this. “I... I am not a courtesan.”
“You are a smart woman, Cathy. You may not be a courtesan, but you are a wife. You are giving your husband every reason to seek an annulment with the kind of behavior you are displaying!”
“An annulment?”
“If a marriage is unconsummated, it is still not fully a marriage. If His Grace decides that his wife is being too tedious, he might find a way to be free of you. It will leave him free of you and all our debts and scandals. He will send you back to us, discarded as Miss Longrove predicted. Worse, you will be ruined. Your sisters’ reputations will follow.
What do you get? Certainly not money or protection. Not even hope.”
Her grandmother was right. The realization made the room tilt. She reached out for a pillar to steady herself. She had to admit she had not thought of that. She had been too focused on her feelings to consider the trap she had set for herself. She had been all but terrible to him.
“Even if he does not annul the marriage,” the baroness continued, “he can seek a mistress. This woman can provide the warmth you deny him. His affections will be showered on her. While he may not be able to marry her, he can spend a fortune on her. He will buy her jewels and everything else that he can afford while he spends his nights in her bed. Meanwhile, you will be in the library, still working on your ledgers. By the way, do you know you still have traces of ink on your fingers?”
Cathy checked her fingers, and her grandmother was certainly right.
She was right about everything. She closed her eyes and saw her sisters’ faces: Madeline’s sunshine, Portia’s intelligence, and Selina’s beauty.
They would not be able to marry for love or anything else because nobody would have them if their sister’s marriage ended up being annulled.
Then she recalled how Tristan spent time chopping wood to release all the pent-up energy.
What if he uses all that on a willing mistress?
“He would have grounds to annul the marriage,” Cathy whispered, finally saying the words she was denying in her head. The words felt like glass. “If he wanted to leave or banish me, I cannot fault him.”
“Stop giving him reasons, then,” Lady Marlow said, taking Cathy’s hands in hers.
It pained Cathy to see her grandmother so worried.
“You are beautiful, Cathy. You may not see it because you hide behind those gaudy dresses and are preoccupied with your height. You have a brilliant mind. You are a great match for the Duke. Your grandfather was right, although he should not have had to shout his thoughts all the time.”
Cathy could not help but chuckle softly at that. But desperation came back too quickly.
“But what should I do? I do not know how to flirt with suitors, for I have never had any. I cannot possibly know how to seduce a man, especially one who is so... experienced.”
“You also have me, dear. I know what it is like to manage a man for more than fifty years. Seduction is mainly in the bedchamber, but it is not limited to it. You have to show him that you cannot be replaced by any wench or vapid lady.”
“But... How do I even start?” Cathy asked, truly confused.
There was a strong attraction between them, but that had disappeared after she lied about not having feelings stirred within her by his kisses. It would be more accurate to say he seduced her. He was the more experienced one. But he promised to leave her because she asked him to.
“We will start as soon as possible, Cathy. You must show him that you are flesh and blood, and not mere parchment and ink.”
“I will try my best, Grandmama,” she muttered.
“Ah. But trying alone is not enough, Cathy. You must succeed.”