Chapter 9
“Explain. Now.” The force of Alaric’s words was so close to the cold authority Catherine had first experienced from him that it almost snapped her out of her anger.
Almost.
She took in the stiffness of his body and the tension in his jaw.
Although his face was blank, she understood what his body language indicated.
He is preparing for a fight. The part of Catherine that knew what a polite young lady ought to do urged her to take it back, to control her temper, and to let things go.
But she was finished with games, with guessing and wondering when the shoe would drop. He was the one who would not leave things alone, who kept behaving so confusingly. And yet, here was proof of what her heart had suspected all along.
He has not changed that much.
She opened her mouth, trying to figure out how to explain as she kept her gaze on the floor.
“Please, Catherine, tell me the truth.” His voice sounded strangled and soft, and when she looked up, she saw that all color had drained from his face.
He looked at her with the wild-eyed stare of an animal caught in a trap and confronted by a hunter. He is terrified. She shook her head, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
“Did I force… How… Did I…” The Duke swallowed and looked at the ground, murmuring so softly that Catherine was not sure if he realized she could hear him. “Lord above, let it not be so. Please. Tell me I am not that kind of man.”
Understanding dawned on her, and she had taken half a step toward him before she realized. She caught herself and exhaled softly. She could see the pain etched in every tense muscle of Alaric’s body, the color fading from his face.
“I am not sure what kind of man you were, Alaric.” Catherine kept her voice soft as her husband’s eyes snapped toward her. “Nor what kind of man you are, but from what I did know of you, I know you would not enact that sort of monstrosity.”
She saw some of the color return to Alaric’s face as he nodded, but there was a haunted look that remained in his eyes. His voice was strangled. “Did I force you to marry me?”
“Not exactly. You did not force me, but you did not really give me much of a choice either.” She winced as she saw Alaric’s body stiffen, his lip curling in disgust that she knew was directed at himself. “I fear I am doing a poor job of explaining things.”
His voice was so cold that it could have frozen water. “If you are trying to spare my feelings, you need not. Tell me the truth.”
“Very well.” Catherine shrugged her shoulders back, poured two more measures of whiskey, and handed one to Alaric. “Before we were married, we only met once. That meeting is why we ended up married. It is nothing as serious as you are thinking, I swear.”
She had seen Alaric’s eyes widen and his body start to shake. You are exaggerating this, Catherine. She waved the thought away and pressed on with the story, allowing herself to recall the events from all those months ago. She closed her eyes.
“It was Lady Pemberton’s ball, and I was feeling somewhat light-headed.
My mother suggested I take some air in the orangery, and honestly, I welcomed a reason to leave the ballroom.
” In her mind, she heard the roar of music and laughter.
She remembered how the room had shrunk around her, the sensation of her heart pounding against her chest. She also recalled her mother nodding eagerly.
I thought it was perhaps kindness.
Bitterness rose up as she remembered how grateful she had been for her mother’s words. That she had not been reprimanded but had been encouraged to leave.
“I was alone in the orangery, and starting to feel more like myself when I heard footsteps behind me. Foolishly, I assumed it was my mother and rose to greet her.”
Alaric’s voice sounded far away. “I take it you were mistaken.”
“I was. I am not sure how she managed it, but my mother somehow ensured that it was you who stumbled upon me.” She could remember the fear that had filled her as his huge figure had loomed out of the darkness.
“Your mother?” Her eyes opened, and she saw the confusion on Alaric’s face.
“She was determined that I marry a man of rank, and what better potential suitor than a duke?” Catherine could not keep the bitterness out of her tone and saw Alaric’s eyes darken, his lips thinning.
“She hoped that we would be forced to spend a little time together, but… well, that is not quite what happened. I tried to leave, or perhaps you did, I am not sure, but as I moved past you, my necklace caught on your shirt.”
“That is all?” Alaric tilted his head toward her, his brow furrowing. “Surely we could have just disentangled ourselves and gone about our separate lives.”
“If no one had seen us, yes. But Miss Harris happened upon us before we got a chance to do so.” Catherine could still hear the woman’s outraged shriek mingling with the clear delight on her face.
“It would have been bad enough to have been discovered in the orangery unchaperoned, let alone so close together. Add to that that Miss Harris is a frightful gossip who delights in nothing more than spreading salacious rumors and well… Within the hour, all anyone could talk about was our little indiscretion in the orangery.”
“I assume this Miss Harris was sent by your mother.” The way Alaric said it did not sound like a question so much as a statement, but Catherine answered it anyway.
“They are old friends.”
“But why did we marry? Surely I could have simply explained the situation? I thought the word of a duke meant something.” Alaric shook his head, chewing on his lip, his brow furrowed with concentration.
Catherine laughed, unable to help herself as she saw the genuine confusion on Alaric’s face.
“Alaric, the ton is a nest of vipers at the best of times, and they love nothing more than an opportunity to drag some high-born lady or lord through the mud. Anything you could have said would have only reinforced our guilt in their eyes. And in truth, I was the subject of their ire, not you.”
“Surely we should both have been to blame?” She saw Alaric’s fingers clench and flex.
“If we lived in a kinder world, perhaps.” She shrugged. “Suffice to say, thanks to the scandal, my reputation was in tatters. As far as the ton was concerned, I was spoiled goods.”
“You are nothing of the sort.” The venom in Alaric’s voice made Catherine jump, her heart racing.
“I know that. But that is how our society works. A woman must be pure, untouched. A man… he can do what he likes.” Catherine swallowed. “No man wants what he thinks another has already had.”
She saw the muscles in Alaric’s jaw tighten even more, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You agreed to marry me because no one else would have you.”
“Yes.” She kept her voice steady, not wanting him to hear the pounding of her heart.
“You did not ask me for my hand. You arranged everything with my father. You agreed to pay for everything—a wedding gown and a bridal wardrobe. You arranged a special license so we could marry quickly. You organized the menu, the music. Everything.”
Some of the anger faded from Alaric, and Catherine thought she saw a flash of shame sweep across his face, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure. She continued with her story.
“Our wedding day was only the second time I had ever seen you. The first time in daylight. And on that same day, you told me that we would live separate lives. I would stay in London, and you would travel to Bath.” Catherine could hear his words in her mind and remember their argument.
“You made it perfectly clear that you had no wish for our lives to be entangled, that you would not bother me if I did not bother you.”
There was a pause in silence as Catherine sensed Alaric’s eyes bore into her. His voice was gentle. “And what about what you wanted?”
“You did not ask me what I wanted.” Catherine met his gaze, staring into his green eyes.
“I am asking you now.”
I wanted love, but that will never happen. Catherine bit back the words.
“Once Oliver is safe and in his father’s care, we will go our separate ways again.”
“That is what you want?” His eyes were like the depths of a forest, ancient and knowing.
She felt like a book that he was idly thumbing through. “It is what will happen.”
“I still do not think the boy is mine.” Alaric ran a hand through his hair, and Catherine could not help but notice the way it framed his face.
“Then find out whose he is. He needs to be with his family, and I am not that.” Catherine forced her shoulders down. “A boy needs his father.”
A flicker of emotion flashed across Alaric’s face, but he turned away before she could see it. As their gazes parted, Catherine felt the vice around her chest loosen and exhaled slowly.
“You will stay until we know the truth,” he said. Catherine could not see Alaric’s face, just the firm line of his back as he stared out of the window.
“I will.” She clasped her skirts in her hands and then released them. “But while we are living together, I think it is best that we abide by some rules. It will keep things clearer between us.”
She thought she saw the muscles of Alaric’s back tense, and braced herself for his reprimand.
No one tells a duke what to do.
It never came, and Catherine took it as an invitation to continue, speeding through before she lost her nerve.
“Firstly, you will never present yourself indecently around me. And to be clear, that means that you will remain clothed whenever you are in my company or any situation in which I might happen upon you.”
Alaric turned to face her, his face blank. “And what if I warn you? I find I rather enjoy my morning swims; the physician says they are good for my health.”
“Then wear a shirt or, at the very least, an undershirt while you swim.” Catherine gave him a frank look, forcing her eyes not to drift from his face, to his neck, to his chest.