Chapter 17 - Cross Purpose
Catherine’s heart sped up when the time had come. The voices of the guests dulled to a buzz while she was herded towards the coach. The o’Donell coach, hitched up with two Hunters. Her eyes drank in the details of the horses — their fox-coloured coats, the lighter manes.
Viscount o’Donell was already awaiting her arrival, offering his hand to assist her. She felt the distinct urge to brush past him.
She didn’t.
Too many eyes.
She entered the vehicle, sitting down at the very edge of the bench, her husband already entering himself.
The door of the carriage closed with a dull thud, sealing them inside the narrow space.
He didn’t pressure. A knock of his fist against the wood — and the coach set into motion.
She exhaled, bracing to face what might become the longest two hours of her life — especially since, despite all the space she’d tried to bring between them, she still could sense the warmth radiating from his body.
Catherine focused very hard on Kilkenny moving past them, her face glued to the small window to her right.
A sound brushed against her ear. A throat clearing — but then he didn’t speak.
The silence between them stretched until the sound of the wheels against the paved street rang too loud in her ears.
The leather creaked softly with every shift of the carriage.
They managed to politely ignore each other well past Kilkenny’s walls. The way his breath caught — then steadied again — told Catherine he meant to speak more than once. She was relieved he didn’t force a conversation, even though her neck was starting to feel stiff from staring outside so hard.
A deep sigh.
“Catherine…” his voice rang out, as a pothole caused the entire carriage to rattle. She lost her balance and found herself confronted with a steady hand that gently stabilised her shoulder. No glove. Warm skin against her own.Her breath hitched before she could stop it.
“That’d still be ‘m’Lady’ for you — my Lord,” she corrected.
He withdrew his hand. She could hear the strain in his voice when he replied.
“Our marriage doesn’t have to be like this, m’Lady. Please listen to me. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
She meant to interrupt, but he simply kept talking.
“I deserve your wrath, Catherine, but whatever you think of me: that’s not who I am.”
Catherine’s eyes snapped to his face. His Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed and added,
“This is a misunderstanding.”
She briefly thought she misheard him. After everything that happened, after their last talk — he still tried to manipulate her to accept his own version of events.
At least her voice was calm this time.
“A misunderstanding, m’Lord? Please elaborate how I could have possibly misunderstood your deception?”
He simply looked back at her, his handsome features distraught, a sharp crease rising between his brows. He didn’t look smug or confident today.
“I can see you are enraged. I never intended to betray you.”
His voice was low.
Catherine’s chest tightened at his response. She pressed her hand against the side of the coach, grounding herself against the wood.
“But you did, m’Lord.”
She hated the faint tremor in her voice.
“You lured me into that backyard and you didn’t care I was making a fool of myself. You encouraged it rather.”
A sparkle lit up in his eyes, but his voice remained annoyingly composed.
“I didn’t intend to lure you. I was elated when I realised you followed my plea and gave me some of your time.”
Catherine snorted.
“I shouldn’t have. But I did. I gave you time — and I deeply regret it.”
A sharp exhale. His voice dropped low, not bothering to hide his agitation.
“Quit lying to yourself. It meant something. You felt it too. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Her own throat felt raw, as if replying scraped against it from inside.
“It meant something.”
She spoke barely above a whisper, the words a strangled sound.
“Meant, m’Lord. Before you let me stammer a warning to you. Before you let me believe I was handing you my own moral bankruptcy for begging my noble fiancé to save another man’s life.”
Something in his face softened. He inhaled deeply, the way a drowning man might.
“So he… I… did mean something.”
His voice turned flat. Clipped.
“Do you truly think my life’s that easy, Catherine? That I can risk lives on the whim of my foolish heart? I wanted to trust you — from the very moment you welcomed me to the Butler estate. But I can’t afford putting my own happiness ahead.”
Her own voice shook. She didn’t want it to. She didn’t want him to see that it still hurt. She cleared her throat.
“If you couldn’t prioritise your own happiness, Viscount, that’s your choice. I fail to see why you had to shatter every hope for mine, though. Nobody forced you to ask for my time. And I didn’t see someone force you to kiss me again. You cannot be trusted to do the right thing, husband.”
She noticed she was facing him by now. Each word had caused them to close the distance. The narrow bench left little room to begin with. Neither of them had raised their voice — yet they both were panting, like they had run several miles.
His voice was vibrating with the intensity of a shout, even though he was still holding a polite volume.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you. Then. I couldn’t stand lying in your face any longer. I only wanted to talk with you. Not the Lady Butler. With you, Catherine. I wouldn’t decide differently had I the chance again.”
Her reply came out like a whiplash.
“Only one of us hid who he was. You can’t blame your wrongdoings on me, m’Lord. Thank you for making it this clear. I know exactly what to expect from you — and this marriage now.”
Their gazes were still locked. Something she couldn’t quite name was burning in his. His lashes lowered over his eyes. The motion broke the spell.
“I shall honour your decision then, m’Lady.”
His shoulders lowered a fraction.
“I recognise a battle turning hopeless.”
A short inclination of his neck.
“O’Donell House is just ahead. I refrained from organising further celebrations — assuming your approval. A small, informal dinner would be all.”
Catherine’s heart kept beating too hard.
He retreated.
It didn’t feel like she won.
Something in her chest tightened instead.
Her eyes lingered on his face a moment too long. She acknowledged him with a single nod, her voice steady again.
“My gratitude for your consideration, m’Lord.”