“Explain yourself.” Catherine folded her arms across herself as if she needed to stave off a chill despite the warm air around them. “You could have just walked away. Either your guilty conscience is strong or…or…”
Richard stopped walking in the clearing between their cottage and the small garden behind their property. “Do not tell me that you do not feel it, too? This…this thing between us that I could no easier name than count the stars.”
Catherine bit down on the corner of her bottom lip, but did not answer him outright.
“The circumstances around our meeting are unfortunate, but we are being thrust together time and time again. My father has demanded that I take a wife, and the timing of all of this is simply too perfect…I cannot believe that all of this is mere happenstance.” Richard grinned as he lifted her chin to look at him. “Besides, there is no better way to save your family’s reputation and spit on my father’s desires in one movement than this.”
“So this is just for revenge?”
“My father…our relationship is a complicated one. I shall not deny it. He would have me marry Lady Isabella Harrington of Elmsworth out of spite for me,” Richard said with no small amount of bitterness when he spoke her name.
“He wishes to have her land and income for his own control and benefit. He would no doubt do to her estate the same that he had done to yours. It would leave me in a loveless marriage to a woman who would only come to resent me. A woman that I cannot stand. I do not have as many freedoms as you suppose that I do,” Richard admitted honestly.
He did not know what it was about Catherine that made him wish to have her on his side, to understand him fully, but he did. “Why not choose a woman who already resents me but that I find myself unable to stop thinking about?”
He wished to reach for her hand. It was a strong compunction that he felt drawn to her, the need to feel her skin under his hands, but yet he could not. He did not know her heart well enough to allow himself to be so bold…even if she had not turned his comforting touches away yet.
“Clearly, my mother approves of the match,” Catherine said bitterly.
“I am not concerned with what your mother thinks of me. It is your opinion that I value on this matter,” Richard said softly.
Her blue eyes lifted fully to his. “The duke as my father-in-law?” Something seemed to harden in her expression. He could practically see the gears inside of her mind turning, all at speeds he could not comprehend. He wished he could be privy to what was being said. “You do not offer marriage, not truly. What you offer is to be moved about like a pawn on a chessboard.
A piece that you are unwilling to part with but do not yet know what you want to do with. You ask me to offer myself up in sacrifice to the constant games. I do not understand your father, and I do not understand your limitations, Lord Richard. That much is true. I shall not deny it…but I do not have to subject myself to be any part of it either.”
“This would be beneficial for us both. It would halt my betrothal to an abhorrent woman, and I would personally ensure that your mother was installed back into her beloved home with every comfort that she could desire. I see the love that you have for her,” Richard continued.
“No,” Lady Catherine answered after a beat of silence.
“No?” Richard echoed, not believing that could possibly be her answer.
Catherine’s jaw set defiantly as her gaze narrowed. “No. Every day that has passed since you have entered into my life has been more of a struggle than the last. Every kindness that you extend backfires. You are making a sloppy attempt at playing your father’s game, and I will not allow myself to be played by you any further.”
Chapter 12
No.
Such a simple word, and yet it felt as if he had been struck with an iron. The word clattered through Richard clumsily and was batted around further by her explanation. Such a swift strike to all of his carefully crafted plans, and she sliced through whatever remained of his ego.
Arrogance alone wanted to have him sit there in his shock that she could refuse him. He was offering her exactly what she wanted, was he not? Was this not everything that she could hope for? Access back into her old life and all of their debts cleared? They could hire house staff and live in the life of luxury that she had been born accustomed to. Titles paired with his own handsome income—what more could a woman want?
Richard stood tall under the weight of her fiery gaze. Something inside of him shifted. He felt ill at ease within his own skin. It was an unpleasant sensation for which he had no context or point of reference.
“Ah,” he said simply. “I see.” He took a small step back and away from her so that he could attempt to catch his breath. It did not help much. He did not wish for the afternoon to end this way. No matter what, he was reluctant to close the conversation on such a sour note, but he could not think of anything to remedy the situation.
Perhaps he was too reckless. Were his motivations incorrect? Did he underestimate the connection that he felt for her? He had thought them like minded with similar goals at the very least, but to see her now…there was no affection for him in her eyes.
“Do you?” Catherine asked bluntly. “For the manner that you speak does not imply that you see anything at all. You conflict your intentions due to the perceived connection between the pair of us and whatever you have skewed my ambition to be, sir.”
“Do not mistake me, Lady Catherine. I did not mean to imply that you were ambitious in a negative light. I only thought that we had a common enemy.”
“That might be so, but that does not mean that I will tether myself to another for life just because my mother and I are currently facing a hardship. I am fully confident that we will be standing on our own two feet very soon. I am perfectly capable of digging us out of this hole we have fallen into with my own two hands, sir. I assure you of that,” Catherine continued.
Richard floundered. “That was not…I did not…”
“We shall not need to rely on you, nor any man, ever again,” Catherine continued. “When I marry…ifI ever marry…the man shall have to be…he will…” The wind seemed to billow out of her sails as she spoke.
She struggled to find the word that she wished to use to describe the marriage that she claimed to want or the future that she had envisioned for herself. A sort of melancholy settled over her, and her shoulders slumped. She no longer seemed able to hold eye contact with him.
