Where was Richard? He ought to be seeing this as well. It was proof that their plan was working, and after her lapse in faith last night, she wanted him to see the same omen of good fortune that she was looking at. Catherine rose to her feet and slipped away while everyone else was distracted.
For as much as she wished to reconnect with her mother, the moment would have to wait until she could share in it with Richard. She had not gotten to speak with her mother since the wedding and did not wish to do so in front of so many prying eyes.
Only, Richard was nowhere to be seen. Not on the grounds or contained within any of the groups. He could not have gotten into the main house without having seen her mother arriving. If that had been the case, he would have walked out with her, arm-in-arm. She knew it. Which meant…something else was happening.
Catherine’s eyes narrowed, irritation sparking in her chest possessively as she scanned the great lawns for any sign of Lady Harrington.
Of course.
Where would she take him? Somewhere secluded to make her move. No doubt the viper had waited until the very last possible moment to spring her trap and snare him. Why would she not?
Catherine slipped down the shaded garden pathways with her ears straining for any sound. Anything at all that would indicate where they had ferreted off to. When she found them, oh, she was going to give Lady Harrington a piece of her mind and then some.
She went deeper into the garden than was comfortable. A niggling sense of dread started to form in her gut, growing with every passing moment that Richard was not found. She weighed the risk of calling out to him, if it would draw more attention than it was worth or not.
The dread swelled within her, telling her to turn around and return to the party. He could handle himself. She did not need to worry, she was certain of it. Nothing bad would happen…she hoped.
Catherine sighed, her shoulders slumping as she turned around—running right into the duke.
Her pulse speared up into her throat. Her tongue suddenly dried as her eyes went wide in fear and surprise. Warning bells and alarms went off in her head as she fought the urge to run. He would only give chase. He was a predator who saw her as nothing more harmful than a rabbit to a fox. He would chase as was in their nature.
Something was wrong. Something about the older man appearedoff.His clothes looked as if somebody or something had been tugging at them. They hung gapped and wrinkled on his torso. His cheeks were wine-reddened and her moved at an uneven gait as he stalked toward her.
“So we meet again, little girl,” he sneered. Impossibly, he sounded even more derisive toward her than when he was sober. If he was no longer in control of his faculties, then she was in a great deal more danger than she had been before. He had not minded getting physical then; he certainly would not now.
She could not risk it.
“I had rather hoped that I might run into you again. Our last conversation was interrupted so very rudely.” The duke made a dramatic show of looking around him to see if there was anyone that would come their way now. Catherine knew that her only options were to scream and make a scene, or to hope to run.
Neither looked like they would help her. She doubted that she was faster than him, but she had to try.
“Uh-uh!” the duke protested loudly and moved into her path faster than she had presumed. “Where are you off to? Your meal ticket will be around shortly.”
“He isnotmy meal ticket,” Catherine gritted out through her teeth.
“I cannot think of anything else that would be more suitable to call him. After all, we both know that you are only after him for my fortunes anyway. Why else could you possibly be married to such a spineless, cockless fool?”
Catherine saw red. Nothing good could come of this situation. She needed out, and now.
The duke produced another small flagon of wine from the inside of his coat. He drank from it deeply and swayed.
“Looks just like his mother. Always too soft when it counted.” He scoffed, but Catherine did not think that he was speaking to her anymore, not really. “He was just supposed to find somebody to pawn you off on. That was the only reason that he had you at that ball in the first place. Pity. Pity and nothing more than that.”
“You do not know what you are speaking of,” Catherine replied bitterly. “You are too drunk to see sense. You should retire for the afternoon.”
He laughed cruelly. “You have really deluded yourself, have you not? You think that he loves you. I have no doubt that you have bought all of the honeyed lies that he has spun…the delusions of grandeur and retribution. You likely still see me as the villain. But I will let you in on a little secret.”
Catherine wished that she could instantly dismiss his words. She wanted nothing more than to instantly refute him…but to her eternal damnation, she leaned in as he beckoned her closer.
“Nothing that he has said to you, girl, he has not said before. Do you truly believe that Lady Harrington would have loved him so deeply if she believed that he had never once returned her affections? Absolutely not. She, too, was once swayed by his sweet words. Seduced and abandoned. Just as you shall be.”
The duke took another drink and smirked. “Though, I suppose I ought to give your cunning credit for managing to get a ring and a ceremony out of him first. Lady Harrington did not quite get that far.”
He was wrong. He had to be wrong.
Catherine held up her hand between them. Partially in order to create space between them and force him to keep his distance. Partially because she was about to beg him to stop speaking. It could not be true.
Yet the seeds of doubt had been planted.
