The words he had spoken to her in his delirium, the ones he did not even remember saying, echoed around her head, sifting through the broken pieces of her heart.
No doubt it was just the fever.
Catherine swallowed. “Appearing to be in love is not the same as actually being in love, even if my own heart struggles to know the difference.”
“Are you in love with him?”
Yes.Catherine could not bring herself to say the word, not with Harriet staring at her with her kind eyes. “It does not matter.”
“Of course it does!” Harriet exclaimed.
“He sent me away, Hettie. His memories returned, and the first thing he did was send me away.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “He wants to go back to our initial agreement, to live our separate lives. The man you saw is no more. The Duke does not want me, and I must learn to live without him. He will come to collect Oliver, and I will… I will go back to my life.”
Catherine gave Harriet a watery smile. “Besides, who needs a husband when I have you, Louisa, and Fiona?”
Harriet pulled Catherine into an embrace. “We will always be there for you.”
“I know,” Catherine whispered.
It was enough before, it will be enough again.Catherine told herself over and over, but each time she repeated the words in her head, they felt less and less true.
Later in the afternoon, long after Harriet had left and Oliver had been returned, Catherine found herself wandering down the halls.
Her fingers brushed against the fine woodwork she had had done. She remembered how proud she had been, how excited she had felt at the prospect of the house being completely hers.
There was a knock at the door, and Catherine’s heart leapt. For a wild moment, she was sure it would be Alaric. It swung open to reveal her mother. Shame and anger washed over her, and she froze with her hand half raised.
“Oh, Catherine. I… I was just coming to drop off this note.” Her mother held up a folded and sealed bit of paper. “I know that I am not supposed to call on you unannounced, and that perhaps you will not want to see me, but well... I thought I would at least ask if you wanted to meet.”
“So you could gloat?” Catherine’s voice was cold. “So you could tell me that all of this is my fault and I have been a fool? I have no wish for my misery to be rubbed in my face, thank you.”
Her mother recoiled, but to Catherine’s surprise, she did not lash out; instead, she hung her head. “I know why you think that, and though it pains me that this is your assumption, I know it is one I have earned.”
Catherine blinked stupidly, unsure if she was hearing correctly. “What?”
She braced herself for her mother’s reprimand, but it never came. The Marchioness did not correct Catherine’s lapse in etiquette; instead, she gently took Catherine’s hand in hers and said, “I came here to apologize to you, and if I must do it on the door, I will. Though I would prefer to do so inside, and if I am honest, you look like you need to sit down.”
Catherine listened for the usual edge in her mother’s words, but she could not hear it. She felt her mother gently take her arm and did not pull away. “May we continue this discussion inside?”
Catherine nodded numbly and gestured at one of the footmen, who seemed to understand that she was requesting refreshments. She let her mother lead her to the drawing room and sat down on the sofa.
Her mother sat opposite her, absently fluffing a pillow. There was a beat of silence, and then she said, “You really have done a rather marvelous job of decorating the place.”
“Thank you,” Catherine replied.
“I mean it, Catherine. You have an eye for such things. A real gift.” Her mother smiled nervously.
“But?” Catherine canted her head toward her.
“There is no but. I am trying to compliment you.” Her mother frowned.
“Why?” Catherine folded her arms over her chest.
Her mother arched an eyebrow at her. “Must I have a reason?”
“I suppose not. It is... surprising, that is all.” Catherine shrugged.
“Your suspicion is not unjustified.” The Marchioness cleared her throat several times. “I… Well, I will not deny that after that… um… incident with the Duke, I was furious. At least, I was at first.”
