Chapter 15 #2
“A powerful yearning indeed to force you into such a journey many months after I was married.” Catherine’s smile was all daggers as she sat in the armchair. “A pity it did not strike while I was still in London.”
“I do not care for your implication, Catherine.” Her mother’s expression darkened, her lips thinning so much they were nearly invisible.
“I am not implying anything, Mother. Simply pointing out the inconvenient timing of your motherly urge.” Catherine’s eyes flashed.
“There is very little about being a mother that is convenient.” Her mother’s tone was icy as a winter morning. “Especially when your daughter lets the most ridiculous rumors circulate around her.”
Catherine did not take the bait. “So long as they are not saying I killed Alaric, I could not give one whit what the ton are saying.”
“You should, Catherine. The things they are murmuring are truly dreadful. Apparently, you have taken in some sort of urchin, some halfwit whom the Duke sired with a streetwalker.” Her mother shivered.
Catherine’s anger curled around her heart. “He is not a halfwit; he simply does not speak. Oliver is actually rather clever.”
“Then it is true!” Her mother’s face went ashen as she leaned forward. “Surely you can see the danger he presents?”
“He is seven. I am sure I will be all right.” Catherine arched an eyebrow at her, flicking out her fingers as though flicking away a fly.
“This kind of flippant attitude is exactly why I came. He could destroy your future, Catherine. He could ruin everything.” Her mother closed her eyes and shook her head. “It is lucky the Duke has not yet formally recognized him.”
“Even if Alaric does, the boy would have no claim to his title nor his lands. At most, he would be a ward. He would never be Alaric’s legal heir.” Catherine frowned.
Her mother tsked and gave Catherine the sort of look a person might give to someone who did not understand that water was wet.
“And a ward can still inherit wealth, Catherine. He might not get land or title, but the Duke could still leave him other things. Do you not care about what this mistake could inherit?”
“He is a boy, not a mistake.” Catherine’s voice was clipped as her anger slipped through. “He deserves to be cared for.”
“I doubt your children will feel the same.” Her mother folded her ankles, her back perfectly straight, as her cold blue eyes stared at Catherine.
“Then it is lucky I have none.” Catherine gritted her teeth.
“And that is something you need to fix sooner rather than later. Thankfully, that is the easiest thing to remedy. Men are all the same.” Her mother began busying herself with her reticule. “I assume you have been tending to those more… intimate duties of a wife?”
“You cannot really expect me to answer that,” Catherine said, gaping.
“Now is not the time for coyness. We must take action. You need to produce an heir, ideally more than one. You never know what might happen. Fortunately, you are still young. We still have a chance to– ”
Her mother was still rifling through her bag when Catherine stood up and interrupted her. “To do what? This is my life, not yours.”
“And I will not let you throw it away. I worked too hard to get you to this point, and I have no intention of letting your stubbornness be your undoing now.” She began placing things on the table.
“I have brought some herbs, a few tinctures. Various things I took when trying to give your father an heir. And some that Lady Wilhomena recommended, and that woman has four sons.”
“No.” Catherine shook her head, taking a step away from her mother.
Lady Danford continued as if Catherine had not spoken. “And of course, I shall speak to your cook about the kind of meals you need to eat. And I will make sure that your lady’s maid knows which herbs to put in your bath. Not to worry, Catherine, we will make this right.”
The world spun around Catherine. “There is no ‘we.’”
“Pardon?” Her mother looked up.
“I said there is no ‘we’, Mother. I will not be taking those tinctures; you will not speak to my staff about my meals nor my lady’s maid about my bath.” Catherine straightened, adjusting the creases in her dress.
“For goodness’ sake, Catherine, stop being so willful and let me help you!” Lady Danford said, also on her feet.
“This is not help, this is control. All my life, you have told me what to do, what to say, how to think, how to act. You even forced me to marry a stranger, trapped me with him!” Catherine’s anger was in every one of her words, her voice rising as her heart raced.
“Keep your voice down!” h er mother hissed. “I care about you, I am only– ”
“Do not lie to me,” Catherine interrupted. “All you have done is criticize me, tell me that you think I am ruining my life. You always think you know better than me.”
“Because I do.” Her mother gave her a look.
“You do not.” Catherine took a step toward her, holding her chin high.
“You never have. I am tired of you forcing me to live the life you think I should lead. I am sick of you making me feel less than at every opportunity. The first thing you said to me was a critique, and for all that you profess to care about me, you only care now that it is affecting your reputation.”
“How dare you say such hurtful things to your own mother!” Her mother clasped a hand to her chest.
“It is the truth. You do not care about me, you never have.” Catherine forced herself to speak past the lump in her throat, curling her fists to hide the trembling. “All I wanted was for you to be proud of me, to love me for who I am, but I see now that this will never happen.”
“I do not know where this anger is coming from. All I have ever done is because I wanted you to have the best possible life. You are married to a duke, and you are one of the most powerful women in the ton.” Lady Danford pointed around them.
“And what about what I wanted? What about my dreams, my hopes?” Catherine’s voice broke.
“Every woman wants what you have. Do not be so ungrateful.” Her mother’s lip curled.
“No, Mother. I wanted love. I wanted a real family and companionship. I wanted partnership and happiness, and you did not care. All you could see was titles and power, and that was what life was supposed to be.”
Catherine closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before opening them and meeting her mother’s gaze. “I may not have the life I thought I would, but it is mine. I now have the freedom to make my own choices, and if you cannot respect that, then you have no place in my life.”
“You are my daughter. You do not know what you are saying. I– ”
“I think it is best for you to leave,” Catherine interjected, pointing to the door. “Now.”
“I am your mother.” Lady Danford stepped toward her.
“And I am the Duchess of this house.” Catherine drew herself up to her full height. “And I am asking you to leave.”
“I will do no such thing. Clearly, you are completely mad if you think I will– ”
Her mother’s words were cut off as the smell of cedar and amber filled the room, followed by a cold voice.
“I believe my wife asked you to leave, Lady Danford.”
Alaric loomed in the doorway, cold, tightly controlled anger radiated off him in waves as he stepped into the room.
The Duke of Coldmere is back.