Chapter 18
Kalina
Rather than eating supper with everyone, Kalina requested a tray in her room.
She had managed at breakfast, but she could not face the throng again.
Could not face their suspicious gazes, the unspoken questions hanging in the air around them.
And she did not want to see her father. Not right now. Not yet.
Especially in front of others, where she would have to pretend she was not wildly upset with him.
It was difficult enough doing so when her mother was the only important audience member.
She was midway through her meal when there was a knock at her door.
Kalina froze.
There was no help for it, though. Everyone must know she was in here. She could always pretend she had gone to bed early…
But maybe it was her father. While she had eschewed her chance to see him over dinner, in complete privacy without her mother present would not be so bad. It might also be her mother if she had finished her meal and retreated early.
Getting to her feet, Kalina brushed off her skirts to straighten them and went to answer it.
Not her mother. Not her father.
Tiffany.
Looking quite splendid in a navy-blue dress with silver trim and embroidery covering the hem of her skirt and sleeves. Tiny diamonds sparkled around larger sapphires in a ring around her neck and hanging from her ears. Her hazel eyes were wide and assessing as she watched Kalina appear.
Kalina’s chest tightened at the sight of her friend on the other side of the small opening.
“Hello,” she said in a low voice, unsure of how to greet the other young woman.
“Can we speak?” Tiffany blurted out the words like she was feeling just as uncertain as Kalina was, which helped a little.
Nodding, Kalina stepped back, opening the door wider to allow Tiffany entry into the room.
Tiffany swept in, walking quickly, and she wondered if the duchess did not wish to be seen consorting with Kalina.
It was entirely possible. Sighing inwardly and steeling herself for another scolding akin to the one Lady Astrid had delivered, Kalina closed the door behind her.
Rather than speaking immediately, Tiffany went over to Kalina’s bed and turned, sitting down on the edge and staring at her. Since the duchess was sitting, Kalina decided to return to her meal. It was the first thing she’d been able to stomach eating all day, and she was ravenous.
Tiffany watched her, waiting until Kalina was seated before she spoke.
“I am sorry it took me so long to come and speak with you,” Tiffany said, folding her hands in her lap as she watched Kalina.
Of course, once she’d said that, Kalina did not bring the bite of fish to her mouth, too startled that Tiffany was beginning with an apology.
“I needed to think, because I was very confused by the events of this morning.”
Well, she was not the only one, so Kalina could hardly blame her for that.
She put her fork down, trying to think of how to reasonably respond without betraying her father.
But should she protect him? It was one thing with her mother, but if she could have a least one friend who understood that she truly had not meant to trap the Duke of Hereford into marriage with her…
Looking down at her hands, Tiffany took a deep breath.
“My problem is that I am struggling to believe that you would trap someone into marriage, even though I know you have been aiming for a duke. You have always been open about that aim. I cannot reconcile someone who is so open with someone who would hatch such a plot.” Tiffany looked at Kalina again, her brow furrowed, obviously questioning.
“If your aim had always been to trap a duke, you would have been wiser to hide your desire for a duke from the beginning. Similarly, if you were going to trap a duke, Christian would have been the wiser choice, especially after the way he was dancing attendance on you the past few days. There are several dukes you could marry, including my own brother. At the moment, there has been no reason to rush to the altar… unless you are with child?”
“No!” Kalina’s shocked rejection seemed to reassure Tiffany, whose shoulders relaxed slightly. Kalina’s fork clanged against the dish as she set it down, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Then I have to ask myself. Why last night? And why Nathanial?”
Pressing her lips together, Kalina fought against the instinct to tell Tiffany everything. But her friend was observant. And she had spent the day thinking about everything rather than jumping to conclusions.
Tiffany nodded at Kalina’s silence.
“There. See? You are angry. You are very good at hiding it, but it is there. You do not have the answers to those questions, either, and if you had been part of the trap, you would.”
“I am angry,” Kalina finally admitted, sagging. “I am sad and furious.”
“Why did you not say something? Why did you let Astrid think that you were a willing participant?” Tiffany asked. “She told me of your conversation. She said you apologized.”
“Because it was my father.” Kalina bent forward, giving up all pretense of formality.
She buried her face in her hands, so she did not have to look at Tiffany as she spoke, the guilt and shame welling up inside her.
“My father trapped Nathanial. I reacted exactly the wrong way. She was correct when she confronted me; if I had been quieter, if I had not screamed, I might have been able to waken him and sneak him out of my room with none the wiser. I might not have known, but I did participate, out of surprise and ignorance.”
“Oh… my dear…” Tiffany got up from her seat on the bed and came over to embrace Kalina about the shoulders, pressing Kalina’s face to her midriff.
The firmness of her stays was not entirely comfortable against Kalina’s cheek, but she did not want to move.
At least one of her friends did not hate her.
One of her friends had seen the truth, even before Kalina had tried to explain it.
She would tolerate far more than a little discomfort for that.
Tiffany released her, crouching down so she could look up into Kalina’s face, their hands held together in Kalina’s lap. The ache in Kalina’s chest was growing again. She could have sworn she had no tears left after this afternoon, but her eyes were beginning to sting.
“You are not to blame for your father’s actions,” she said firmly. “Unless you knew what he planned ahead of time and did not stop him, there is no fault to you.”
Kalina shook her head, too afraid to try to speak because she might start sobbing over Tiffany’s compassion if she opened her mouth now.
Tiffany’s voice dropped to a mutter. “Trust me, if anyone has learned we are not responsible for how our parents behave, it is me.”
Though she was uncertain why Tiffany would claim such deep knowledge, though she was beginning to suspect that the Dowager Duchess of Bolton’s retreat to the country might not have to do with a desire for fresh air, Kalina nodded.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the threatening tears.
“I do not want my mother to know,” she admitted. “She is so angry with my father already. If she thought I was unhappy with the outcome, she would be even more so.”
“Are you unhappy with the outcome?” Tiffany asked, peering up at her. “I think that is also partly what has Astrid convinced—despite Christian’s attentions, you and Nathanial seemed drawn together over and over.”
Kalina’s shoulders hunched.
“I… I feel a connection with him,” she admitted. “If I were to choose which man to marry…” Not that she had been given a choice. “Though, perhaps Christian would be the better choice. Going by which man showed interest in me.”
Tiffany studied her for a long moment.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps if he were given the opportunity for a true choice, Nathanial would have chosen you, too.” Tiffany hesitated. “He has his reasons for holding back from you, but in some ways, I think the two of you are a better match than you and Christian would be.”
Kalina could only hope.
Though even if her soon-to-be husband was furious with her and believed she had trapped him, she could live with it now that she had at least one friend who knew the truth.
Nathanial
It was a rather strange stag night, gathered with his friends in the billiards room of Blackstone Manor. He did not have the heart to play. Neither did he want to drink. Instead, he slowly sipped some water while watching Matthew and Christian compete.
Billiards was one of the few arenas in which Matthew’s luck was not a factor, evening the playing field between him and his friends. Christian was currently winning and grinning from ear to ear over it, while Matthew was scowling and grumbling under his breath.
“This feels rather more like a funeral than is comfortable,” Gregory said, going for a bit of levity as he often did.
He held a crystal snifter in his hand, the amber liquid inside it practically glowing in the gas lamplight.
Leaning back in the heavy armchair he occupied, he glanced over at Nathanial.
“Are you sure you will not have a drink?”
“That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”
“Exactly, so it can hardly make things worse now.”
Despite himself, Nathanial snorted. It rather felt like gallows humor, but he could not help the spurt of amusement. Gregory was good at that.
“It could certainly be worse,” Matthew pointed out, turning his attention to the conversation rather than to the table where Christian was lining up a winning shot. “She could be a poor title hunter with no dowry. And ugly. And stupid. Instead, you’re going to have a beautiful, rich, clever wife.”
Matthew did have a way with words.
“What are you going to do if your coin decides on an ugly, poor, stupid wife for you?” Sebastian asked with some real curiosity. “Or are you banking on the idea that it would never do such a thing?”