Ironic, in that her father had been the one to give her the pianoforte as a gift in her infancy in the first place. Her sire had given them everything. A truly blessed life, a charmed existence…and then whatever demons had grabbed ahold of him had coerced him to take it all away once more.
When people spoke of coming to the end of one’s rope, this had to be what it felt like.
Every part of her wanted to wallow. She wished to be overcome with sadness like her mother and dissolve into tears, but she would not be afforded that luxury. Not today, perhaps not ever. She needed to be there for her mother. She had to carry them through this, now that all that they truly had was one another.
Swallowing back her emotions as completely as she could, Catherine rolled her shoulders back and moved toward her mother once more. There could not be much less for those blood-thirsty creditors to take anyway.
When she arrived in the foyer, her mother was heading upstairs. No doubt to lay down on whatever was left in her room. Through the open double doors of their home, a carriage pulled into the drive and came to a stop. It did not bear the markings of a family that she readily knew. Whomever it contained would not be here to give any positive news.
If they thought that they were going to come here and kick them while they were down, they had another thing coming.
Catherine folded her arms across her chest firmly and set her jaw as rage slowly started to burn inside of her core. Enough was enough.
Fury and indignation gathered around Catherine as she stomped down the front steps of the home that she had grown up in.
“Have you not done enough?!” she bellowed at the creditor before they even had a chance to open the carriage door. She was of half a mind to slam the door shut in their face should they try to open it. If it would not have upset her mother further to see her acting in such a fashion, she certainly would have considered doing just that. “You have already taken everything! Can you not leave us in peace?! Must you persist!?”
The carriage door opened to a man who did not heed her indignation one tiny bit. He parted from the carriage in a smooth movement. She had never seen somebody move so fluidly, so at ease in their own skin.
When he turned to look at her, it took the wind right out of her sails.
Catherine blustered. She huffed and hemmed as she attempted to pull her rage and sorrow back to her chest, but it was impossible with those emerald green eyes peering back at her. She tried to look away, to break the spell that they seemed to have sucked her into, but every other part of his face that her gaze landed on only proved this man to be impossibly more attractive.
She had never been so flustered in her entire life.
“Apologies, my lady. I do not mean to be a storm cloud on your already tumultuous day, but I am afraid that I have business here,” the man said with a bright smile. Wholly opposite of the apparent intention behind his words.
Catherine folded her arms across her chest, if only for a moment, before her manners took ahold of her, and she extended out her hand in greeting. Begrudgingly.
“I am Lord Richard Landry, son of the Duke of Wallingham.” He took her hand readily, all smiles and charm.
Before her was a man who likely got by on his good looks. He had strong shoulders and a broad chest. He was simply large in every sense of the word that she could use. A strong, square jawline and full lips.
Sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. Well-muscled and very sturdy seeming, she was certain that he could walk into any room and command the attention of all inside of it simply because of the way that he held himself. He moved as if perfectly comfortable in his skin. Every muscled inch of it. Catherine had never felt quite so petite standing near a man before.
Well, she was not one of those women who would be simply swayed by looks and a perfect, dashing smile. Least of all when he carried the surname of Landry. He might as well have been her mortal enemy. The very last person that she wished to speak with.
Catherine snatched her hand back. It was everything that she could do to keep from sneering at the man. Of course, this man had to be related to the very man who now owned her family’s fortune. All of the items being dragged away were going to be sent to the duke for his appraisal or sale.
“One cannot steal from empty pockets, my lord. I am afraid that there is nothing else that we could, or would, wish to offer you. Now, I am not feeling particularly hospitable, so if you do not mind, I am going to return to what is left of our home.” Catherine tried to keep her tone level. It was so strange that he was perhaps the most attractive man that she had ever seen—and also clearly in league with her personal devil as well.
Furthermore, Catherine was well aware of the reputation that was attached to that man’s title. She might not have known his face, but now she supposed it made perfect sense that a man who looked like that had raked himself through the better part of London. She had heard all about Lord Landry sowing his wild oats. He had been the talk of thetontwo months back or so, when he had chosen to return to claim his duchy.
Lord Landry followed her up the steps.
Catherine paused in front of the door and spun to face him. “I bid you good day, sir.”
Lord Landry smiled, nonplussed. “I think you have misunderstood me, my lady.”
“And how is that? Have you not come to gloat? Have you attempted to ensure that the debts owed to you by taking advantage of a clearly sick man at the lowest point in his life that you have to watch his family be miserable and destitute as well? You, my lord, are the lowest sort of sc—”
“I have come to help you.” Lord Landry clasped his hands behind his back, a glimmer in his eye that made her stomach somersault. “I have come to put an end to all this nonsense.”
“O-oh,” Catherine’s voice was tinged with disbelief and a heavy serving of doubt as she stepped to the side of the door. “Then, I suppose, by all means, come in.”
It would not be too much of a hardship to allow herself his company for a few more moments, she supposed.
Though she did not believe that for one moment that a man with a reputation like this did not have a hidden agenda.
