“But she doesn’t want anything to do with any of us. Not me. Not Henrietta. She told me herself.”
“She said much the same to me when I showed up again. And I assure you, her greeting was none too cordial.”
She placed both hands over his. “The fact that you tried—” Emotion forced her to stop speaking. That he had gone back for her and for his sister almost broke her heart in two.
“It’s all right,” he said, fixing those green eyes on her. “You will perhaps be surprised.”
She gave him a quizzical look.
“I was my most charming self. And she railed against me for a while. But I told her that I had every intention of marrying her niece and that I knew now that my sister was her daughter. I told her that I had no desire to keep her from my sister and that I would like Henrietta to know her mother, if possible.”
Catherine shook her head and hoped that, despite his pledge to be honest with Henrietta, he hadn’t told her about what must have been a resounding rejection from her mother.
“I appreciate the effort you have made for both Henrietta and myself.” She looked up at him and he had a strange smile on his face.
“I know she was harsh with you that day we visited her, but I suspect she was trying to protect herself. Or perhaps we underestimated her susceptibility, despite her protests to the contrary, to anyone who holds my particular title.”
Catherine felt a jolt of hope. “What do you mean?”
“After I had well and humbled myself,” he said, “and I meanwell and humbled, I was, I have to say, reallyquitebegging, she came around. She said she would love to know Henrietta and that she hoped that she hadn’t spoken too harshly to you.”
Shock coursed through Catherine’s system, mixed with the first inklings of a very extreme happiness.
“I don’t understand,” she said, taking his hand again. “How did you…? Why would she…?”
“I’m not sure. I think it must have been some combination of seeing you, my father’s letter, and my extreme groveling. When she thought I hated her, she felt that I could only harm her. When I made clear that I did not blame her for what had happened so many years ago, she softened.”
“She must want to know Henrietta,” Catherine said, softly, casting her mind back to the exchange she had had with her aunt, and how she had brushed off Catherine’s question about why she had stayed nearby. She loved the daughter she didn’t know.
“And I think she wants to knowyou,” John said, looking into her face, “and how could she not?”
He leaned in and took her into a deep kiss, making her body heat all over, and then drew away.
“This is all a long way of saying that I have reason to believe that your aunt will be at our wedding tomorrow. That is what I wanted to tell you.”
Catherine felt her face might break open from smiling. How had he added the last thing that had been lacking, the only thing that might have kept her happiness from being complete?
She kissed him and he enveloped her in his arms.
This time, they did not stop until dawn broke through the windows and it was time to attend their own wedding.
Epilogue
Four Months Later
Tomorrow, Catherine andJohn were leaving Edington for the north of England. There, Catherine had quite a few sites to see. They were the last ones she needed to visit to complete her book. Since their marriage, she had taken over both the study in Edington Hall and the Mayfair town house to John’s endless amusement. He had never particularly appreciated these rooms—“I wonder why,” he’d say to her, with a smirk—and he preferred to do his own work on a divan in the library, holding a glass of scotch. Nevertheless, he enjoyed happening upon Catherine at work in her two studies and attempting to distract her with various, as he liked to put it, “carnal arts.”
Now, however, Catherine needed to travel to finish her research, having done all she could at such a convenient distance from their bed.
The only complication occurred two weeks ago, just after they had settled all the details of the trip, when Catherine began to suspect that, in seven months’ time, the Dukedom of Edington would have a new sprig on its illustrious tree. While she and John were elated at this news, shewasworried that the pregnancy would make her ill while they traveled. She had wondered if they should postpone.
John had insisted that they continue with their journey as planned. That morning, in fact, he had shown her a special carriage he had ordered from London. It would allow her to lie down while they traveled, if need be.
“Of course,” he said, “it could also be used for other purposes.”
As usual, the rakish twinkle in his eye made desire pool in her belly.
Their wedding had been much larger than she had expected. John had insisted on inviting all of society and more members of thetonhad accepted invitations than she would have ever thought. In the months since their marriage, it had become clear that, in the eyes of the aristocracy, their union seemed to resolve the scandal, rather than reignite it, as if they were making right the wrong done by their predecessors. That their marriage had been panacea rather than new outrage only smoothed the way further for Henrietta, a circumstance for which Catherine and John were both grateful. Indeed, Henrietta was currently in London, enjoying her season under the chaperonage of—who else—Lady Wethersby and Lady Trilling.
