Chapter Thirteen #2
Happy? Cat glared at him. How could she be happy?
Mrs. Dove-Lyon finally gave up on being affable.
“Do you want to change your mind?” she asked Cat in a tone that was rather ominous.
“You can. I will find someone else for Sinclair to marry, another duke’s daughter, and one who is less picky.
” She began to list names, ticking them off on her fingers.
Cat stomached it for a moment, but she couldn’t do it for long.
As much as she hated to admit it, the woman was right.
It was better to know her bridegroom than to promise herself to a stranger.
Sinclair seemed genuine in his desire to help, although how could she ever trust him again?
Surely there would always be that niggling doubt that he was lying to her.
But it was too late to back out now. Better she went through with it than see him marry someone else and she fail in her quest to save her home. There was really no alternative.
“I don’t want to change my mind,” she said, interrupting what seemed to be an endless recital of names. Were there really that many duke’s daughters in the country, or was Mrs. Dove-Lyon embellishing?
The two of them turned to her. Cat was sure there was an expression of satisfaction on the woman’s face behind her veil, and Sinclair appeared genuinely relieved. But once again, she asked herself, how could she tell?
“Thank you,” he said. “I was not looking forward to marrying any of those ladies, although I am sure they are very suitable. You will be doing me a favor, Lady Catriona, I assure you.”
“I’m glad you are happy then,” she said sarcastically.
He grimaced. “My happiness is the least of my concerns right now.”
“Oh nonsense!” the widow spluttered, seeming to lose her patience.
“You were mad for the girl as soon as you met her, Sinclair! Admit it. You want to marry her, and now you can. Afterward, there will time enough to gain her forgiveness for the mess you’ve made.
Just think, you have years of apologizing ahead of you! ”
There was silence. Sinclair looked as if he’d like to say something but was biting his tongue while Cat realized at that moment that Mrs. Dove-Lyon must have been aware of Sinclair’s deception all along.
All this time, she had been keeping secrets from Cat while she dangled Sinclair in front of her.
She almost rose to her feet again and walked out.
“I intend to make amends for the rest of my life,” Sinclair said quietly, his green eyes bright as they looked into Cat’s. “I make you that vow.”
She stared back at him. It sounded like the sort of vow a man who meant it would make. If he weren’t a liar, then perhaps she would believe him.
“Enough.” The widow had lost patience. “I will have the documents drawn up. We will act on the assumption that your demands will be met, Lady Catriona. Do you have a date in mind for the wedding?”
Cat felt her stomach twist. What if she said no? But she couldn’t say no. She could only say yes.
They were waiting for her answer. “As soon as possible,” she said, and rose to her feet. “It would be better if my family dinna find out before it is a fait accompli.”
“I will send you the documents in three days’ time,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon announced. “I have some strings I can pull to hasten the matter. If you agree, then the marriage can take place after that.”
Three days. Cat tried not to let her feelings show, but they must have, because Sinclair moved forward again as if to take her hand. She flinched and stepped away. Perhaps it was childish, but she knew she couldn’t bear for him to touch her. Which did not bode well for their marriage!
“Then we are done here,” the widow went on, sounding relieved. “Farewell, Lady Catriona. For now.”
Cat nodded regally and turned to go. She had barely shut the door when tears started to trickle down her cheeks.
Sinclair sat down abruptly and buried his face in his hands. “I hoped,” he muttered, “that she might forgive me, or at least set aside her animosity, but I see now she never will. Our marriage is doomed from the start.”
It had been Harriet Snowden’s idea for him to wait for Cat at the Lyon’s Den, and show himself to her there. Harriet thought it unlikely that Cat would run away in those circumstances, but it had been a near thing.
Now Mrs. Dove-Lyon gave a chuckle. “You give in too easily,” she scolded him. “You made her grow fond of you once, and you can do it again. You are the same man, are you not? She will come to accept you in time.”
He shook his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, and all because he fell in love with a woman and lied to her to keep her smiling at him a little longer. He was paying the price now, and so he should. He deserved her anger and disappointment.
“Come, Sinclair, we have things to discuss,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said irritably. “I have already sent a message posthaste to your grandfather. I am hoping he will be happy enough with you to agree to anything I propose.”
Sinclair seemed to regain his senses. He stared at her.
“You sent . . .” he began. He knew there was something cagey about this.
That list of duke’s daughters for a start.
How had Bessie managed to gather those names together?
Why? “Do you know my grandfather, Bessie? What have you been keeping from me?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Lord Armytage wrote to me. He asked for my help to secure you a marriage with a duke’s daughter. It just so happened you had already found one. We should both congratulate ourselves.”
He was sure she was smiling, he could hear it in her voice.
He opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t like being lied to, and then realized how hypocritical that would sound.
Should he be angry with her and the old man?
He felt manipulated. But then he reminded himself that if their machinations could get him and Cat what they both wanted, then who was he to complain?
Mrs. Dove-Lyon moved toward her desk, saying, “What matters is that your grandfather has what he asked for, and so do you. Now we just have to put the pieces together into an attractive parcel.”
She was right. Sinclair needed to pull himself together and start thinking of ways to ensure his grandfather agreed to his part of the bargain.
It would not be easy. He knew all too well how avaricious Lord Armytage was.
He would not want to let Bonnyrigg go. But Sinclair also knew how ambitious he was to have his heir rise to the top of the ton.
A duke’s daughter was a prize indeed. Perhaps he would be willing to set aside his desire for more property and money in order to realize the greater objective?
He went to join Bessie. She already had a sharpened quill and paper at the ready. This was not about him. It was about helping Cat, and if he had to apologize to her endlessly and plead with his grandfather, then that was what he would do.