“Lady Catherine.” Anjali placed her hands together, prayerlike, at her chest, and bowed slightly. “It has been many years.”
“But, how…?” Catherine, her heart thudding solidly against her ribs, pulled her dressing gown tightly around her. “What are you doing here? How did you…? I mean, who let you in?”
The hint of a smile appeared. “How I came to be here is not important, ma’am, but my reason for being here is if you will permit me to explain. I shall not take much of your time. Will you take some tea?”
Catherine, still not quite able the grasp the reality of the situation, gave the back of her hand a hard pinch, which hurt. And nothing changed.
“You are not dreaming, ma’am.” The woman poured hot water into a tea pot. “I am quite real.”
“But I don’t understand.” Catherine set her lantern down. “It seems you were expecting me.”
“I was, ma’am.”
“But how can that be? I was asleep till ten minutes ago.” Lysander’s declaration rang out in Catherine’s head.I swear, the woman is a witch.Catherine doubted the existence of such creatures, but there was definitely something unsettling about this woman. “And I insist you tell me how you got in here.”
Anjali heaved an audible sigh. “The questions you ask are of no consequence, ma’am. I do not have much time. I wish only to say what has to be said, then I must take my leave of you.”
“None of this makes sense,” Catherine said. “Why are you here, then? What is this about?”
Anjali set a steaming cup of tea down in front of Catherine. “It is about telling the truth.”
Catherine frowned. “The truth about what?”
“About a marriage that took place eighteen years ago. A marriage brought about by lies and deception. A marriage that should never have been.”
Catherine’s heart missed a beat. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
Anjali gestured to the cup. “Drink, ma’am,” she said. Catherine looked down.She put something in my drink that night, which made me lose all sense of…
“Of what?” Catherine muttered, to herself.
“It is Darjeeling, ma’am,” the woman said, in a mistaken response. “The finest.”
Catherine raised a questioning brow. “Then why do you not drink it?”
Anjali frowned, filled her cup, and took a sip. “The duke told you the truth, ma’am,” she said. “About that night.”
Catherine gasped. “How do you know what the duke told me? How do you know he even spoke to me?”
She shrugged and took another sip of tea. “Again, you ask questions that are not important. You may do what you wish with what I am telling you. I am not doing this for your benefit, or for his. I am doing it formine. I made a mistake, and my conscience must be cleared.”
“You made amistake.” Catherine’s heart pounded in her ears. “You’re admitting that you tricked the duke into seducing Helena, forcing him to marry her, and you call that amistake?”
“She wanted him,” Anjali’s hand trembled visibly as she set her cup down. “I knew it was wrong, and not just for the duke, or for you, or for Mr. Northcott. I knew it was wrong for Helena. But she wouldn’t listen. She wanted the house, the wealth, and the title, and I helped her get them.” Anjali’s face crumpled. “In the end, though, the thing she missed most of all was the one thing she’d never considered.”
Catherine puzzled over the words. “You mean children.”
Anjali gave her a sharp look. “No, not children! I am speaking of hislove, ma’am. Oh, I knew the man had love in his heart; a powerful, indestructible love. Helena knew it, too. But it was not meant for her, and there is no alchemy in the world that can create love where it is not meant to be. Lysander’s love was meant for another, and he safeguards it to this day, waiting for her to claim it.”
Catherine closed her eyes and put a steadying hand on the table. “He was telling me the truth,” she said.
“Yes,” Anjali replied. “And you must decide what you will do with that truth. As for me, I have said all I needed to say. Now I must go.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to India.” She smiled. “I cannot abide this climate.”
Chapter Seven
