CHAPTER 1
“For goodness’ sake, Catherine, it is your wedding day, not a funeral. Smile!” Lady Margaret Harwood, Marchioness of Danford, demonstrated with a broad, wide smile that did not reach her eyes.
Catherine clenched her fists, curling them around the smooth blue silk of her wedding dress. The heavy gold necklace draped across her felt more like a collar than jewelry. She forced herself not to tug at it as she met her mother’s gaze.
Everyone said that Catherine looked just like her mother. Her eyes were the same dazzling blue as the Marchioness’s. Her blonde hair, tied in an elegant bun and set in place with a tiara by her lady’s maid, would one day turn silver like her mother’s. Her smile, the one her mother had made her practice since childhood, was charming.
Catherine forced her shoulders down and straightened as her mother quirked an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps if this were a match born of love, rather than necessity, I would feel more inclinedto good cheer. As it is, I see little reason to be joyful. It is only scandal that has brought us together; why add to the pretense?”
She did her best to keep her tone neutral, but from the furrowing of her mother’s brow, she could tell she had missed the mark. “Because that is what it means to be in society, dear. Besides, plenty of women would die to be in your shoes.”
“Find me one, and I will happily trade places with her,” Catherine replied as her temper got the better of her.
It is not as though being the perfect lady has served me well.
From the look her mother gave her, Catherine half expected the woman to roll her eyes, but of course, the marchioness would not do anything so common. “Do not be so ungrateful. It is lucky for you that the Duke is as honorable as he is.”
“Oh yes, what luck! I am to marry a man who did not even have the decency to ask me for my hand; he simply negotiated with my father and told me that we were to be wed in a fortnight by special license.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“You can hardly expect the man to do anything more; he is a duke after all, and one of the most powerful men in theton.” The corner of her mama’s lips curled upward. “What he did was perfectly proper.”
“Because propriety sets every young woman’s heart on fire.” Catherine shook her head, the slight smile on her mother’s faceundoing any semblance of composure. “Who wants love when they can be tied to a man so cold that he makes a marble plinth seem warm?”
Her mother arched an eyebrow at her, folding her arms across her chest. “A bold statement from a woman who has only met him once.”
“I have ears; everyone knows of his reputation.” Catherine tried not to think about how her friends had gasped and clutched their chests when she told them about her marriage. “And our meeting was hardly a warm one. It would not have been worth mentioning if your friend, Miss Harris, had not happened upon us and somehow jumped to the conclusion that something untoward had occurred.”
“Why dwell on that? What is done is done. All that matters is that you are marrying a duke!” Her mother made a motion with her fingers as though flicking away a particularly irritating fly.
“Because of your machinations! I know you were the one who orchestrated the whole thing. Just admit it.” Catherine glared at her.
To her surprise, her mother did not look embarrassed; if anything, she looked proud of herself.
“Of course I did. It is high time you got married, and what better match could you hope for than being married to a man like the Duke of Coldmere? I will confess, my plan turned out even betterthan I expected. I just wanted you to spend a little time with each other, but instead, you have a husband.”
“How can you sound so pleased with yourself? He may be a duke, but that does not mean he is a good man. How do you know he is not cruel? That he is not some philandering letch?” Catherine took a step toward her mother, gesturing around them wildly as her heart thundered in her chest. “You know I wanted a love match, and this is the furthest thing from that.”
“And do you think love would protect you from cruelty or betrayal, Catherine?” Her father, Charles Harwood, Marquess of Danford, interrupted, his deep voice resonating through the room. “How many women have let their hearts lead them astray only to discover the truth when it was already too late? Besides, do you believe your mother and I are such poor judges of character that we would marry you to a monster?”
I do not trust you to see past his title and fortune.Catherine bit back the angry words, knowing her father was not the sort of man who would tolerate such disrespect. She swallowed, wrestling with the anger still roiling within her.
“You should be grateful, Catherine. Few women could have accomplished what your mother did, and goodness knows, plenty have tried.” Her father put an arm around her mother, his face softening into a smile as he looked at his wife.
Catherine’s chest tightened.All I wanted was a husband who would look at me like that.She felt fury give way to a cold numbness. That future would never be hers.
“But why force the matter?” Catherine’s voice shook. “It is not as though I have not had suitors. Why push me into a match instead of waiting just a little longer?”
Catherine had many young men try to court her, though, admittedly, none were dukes, and each young gentleman failed to ignite a spark in her heart.
“And yet none have stuck. You are entirely too picky for your own good. There is no perfect man, but there are good ones. Your mother has found you a good one and spared you the shame of spinsterhood.” Her father’s voice was cool as he pulled out his pocket watch. “Now, it is time that we go into the church. The Duke should not be kept waiting.”
Both of her parents moved to stand beside her. The Marquess linked an arm through Catherine’s while her mother cast one last look upon her and then nodded in satisfaction.
They led Catherine out of the room, down the corridor, and into the waiting carriage. Her parents sat her away from the door, as if they feared she might try to fling herself from the carriage during the ride to the church.
The thought had crossed her mind, but she had firmly suppressed it. How could running help? She had nowhere to go. There was a real risk she would hurt herself, tear her dress, and end up looking a complete mess. It wouldn’t stop the wedding; it would just add to her humiliation.
At least I will have my dignity.She straightened in her seat as the carriage halted outside the church. Crowds of strangers lined the streets. She felt her chest tighten, her heart skittering wildly.
