“If you intervene, it confirms there’s something to hide,” he murmured, surprising her with his astuteness.
Catherine drew a breath, her spine straightening. “I left because I could not bear to watch my brother in pain and know I had caused it.”
“Caused it?” Lydia leaned forward, eyes alight. “How could you cause the great Duke pain?”
“By existing,” Catherine said simply. “By being the reason he stepped before a carriage. By being the cause of his scars, his suffering, his change from the brother I knew to the man he is.”
Silence fell, heavy and complete. Even the footmen seemed to still.
“But that isn’t the whole of it, is it?” Venetia rose, gliding toward Catherine with predatory grace. “There were rumours … about laudanum, and locked doors, and—”
“About a seventeen-year-old girl driven to despair by guilt,” Catherine said, cutting her off, her voice unexpectedly strong. “Yes, I tried to take my own life—once—out of grief and confusion. And yes, I spent five years in exile because of it. But do you know what I learned, Lady Venetia?”
“Do enlighten us.”
“I learned that those who prey upon the pain of others are the truly damaged ones,” Catherine said, standing now, her poise unshaken. “That those who hoard secrets and wield them as weapons are far more broken than those who’ve suffered openly. And I learned that true friends”—she looked to Marianne—“do not need to dig for truths. They accept what is offered and respect what is withheld.”
“How touching,” Venetia sneered. “A lady of such delicate sensibilities instructing us all on the nature of friendship.”
That was too much. Adrian was across the room before anyone could blink, his hand closing around Venetia’s wrist as she reached for Catherine.
“Enough,” he said, his voice deadly quiet.
“Unhand me!” Venetia tried to wrench free. “How dare you—”
“How dare I?” Adrian’s laugh was low and dangerous. “You invite us here under the pretence of celebration, separate us deliberately, attempt to humiliate my wife, and now assault my sister? And you ask howIdare?”
“Adrian,” Marianne moved quickly to his side, seeing the violence building in his eyes. “She’s not worth it.”
“No.” He did not release Venetia immediately, but his grip slackened fractionally. “She’s not. She never was.”
Venetia’s face contorted with fury. “You’ll regret this. All of you. I have proof of what you did in India—letters, documents—”
“Forgeries,” Adrian said with cold calm. “Very poor ones.”
“What?” Venetia sputtered.
“Did you suppose I would not have my own people investigate when you started sniffing around? Every document you purchased, every ‘witness’ you bribed—I know about all of it.” He released her wrist, stepping back with visible disgust. “You’ve been buying lies from con men who saw an easy mark.”
“You lie—”
“Actually, he doesn’t.” A new voice cut through; Worthington had hobbled into the room, every eye following his slow progress. His evening attire was immaculate; the old man’s amusement was evident.
“Your Grace,” Venetia’s voice trembled. “I did not know you were—”
“Listening?” Worthington’s smile was thin. “Oh, I have been listening all evening. Fascinating theatre.” He regarded Marianne with something like approval. “When a pretty young woman suddenly agrees to marry a decrepit husband, one naturally wonders about her motives.”
“What do you mean?” Venetia began. “I… My feelings are real—”
“Please.” He raised a hand, cutting her off. “Let us not insult each other’s intelligence. You require money to cover debts—yes, I am informed of those as well. Substantial, aren’t they? I wanted a pretty wife to irritate my meddling kin. A business arrangement, nothing more.”
Venetia’s composure cracked. “Then why—”
“Why let you carry on with this charade? Curiosity, mostly. I wanted to see what you’d do, how far you’d go.” He looked at Marianne with something like approval. “I must say, Your Grace, you’ve handled yourself admirably. That comment about my virility was particularly amusing.”
Marianne felt her cheeks heat. “Your Grace, I apologise if I—”
“Nonsense. The first interesting thing to happen at one of my gatherings in years.” He turned back to Venetia. “However, I cannot have my future duchess acting like a common blackmailer. It’s undignified.”
