Page 47 of Kismet

“You know that your mother will never do that. She is too proud.” Darcy stretched his feet out in front of him, his gaze fixed on his cousin.

“I acknowledge that, but I wanted to grant her the possibility of changing her behavior. I told her she had two options: behave how I want or move to Wales.” Theodore sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I gave her the chance to be a better person, and she plotted with Deerhurst to ruin Catherine. It seems like her choice is clear. It's time for me to reach out to my solicitor and initiate the necessary steps to have her removed from my home and my life.”

“I am sorry it has come to this. I know you were hoping that with the loss of Cedric, you could grow closer to your mother. She has proven herself unworthy of the title. Do you have a timetable in mind?”

“That is actually hard to say. I told the Bow Street runner that I did not want her to hide behind her position and he should prosecute my mother and Deerhurst to make an example of them. No one should be able to feel they are above the consequences of hurting someone.” Slumped over with his head in his hands, Theodore seemed to have lost his normally positive demeanor. “I cannot bear the thought of her in my home, but I will need to find out if she needs to stay here for a trial.”

Darcy started to tap his finger on his leg, pondering how he would be able to help his cousin out of his morass of problems. “That does complicate things. Do you have a plan on how to proceed from here?”

Theodore started using his fingers to mark off the tasks he had in mind. “I need to speak with the solicitor and the man from Bow Street and see how things will proceed. My biggest priority, however, is to talk to Catherine and admit how foolish I've been. I have to make amends and try to win her back.”

“At least you have your priorities straight now. I must tell you, however, that it may be more difficult to win Catherine back than to deal with your mother and Deerhurst. Elizabeth and her sisters are probably going to close ranks. You may have to get through them before you get a chance to speak to her.” Darcy stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You may come this evening. I am hoping that the situation here will have calmed down sufficiently so that you will be able to find an opportunity to speak with her.”

Catherine lay ensconced in the softest blanket she had and surrounded by her sisters. She was clean of all the blood from the morning's trials, but that did not mean it was not invading her mind. Deerhurst had attempted to hurt her—ruin her, in fact—effectively steal her dowry, and blackmail Darcy. Why was it that she still felt so guilty washing his blood from her hands?

Years ago, she had faced similar turmoil when she had shot the horrible Wickham with an arrow to protect her sister. It had felt different, though. Though she would never hesitate to shield someone she cared for from harm, prioritizing her own safety felt less innate. The experience of protecting someone else was somehow different from the experience of protecting herself.

Could she have done something else? Something less violent? Was stabbing the man the only option she had?

By firmly clasping Catherine's hand, Elizabeth effectively brought her focus to the present moment. “I can see your mind spinning faster than a wayward top. What is going through that pretty head of yours?” Reaching out, Elizabeth smoothed some of Catherine’s hair out of her eyes.

Biting her lip, Catherine confessed, “I was wondering if I could have found another way to protect myself. A man nearly died because of what I did.”

Lydia snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “The man nearly died because he was too stupid to take the wise advice offered about leaving the knife where it was until a physician arrived.”

Mary, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, smiled sadly at her younger sister. “It seems to me that we, as imperfect humans, always ask ourselves what if? What if I had chosen my words better? What if I had done that? It is my opinion that it is a very dark path to wander down.”

“I do not know why, but I am finding it hard to justify harming someone else merely to protect myself.” Catherine shook her head fitfully. In that moment, there was a conflict between her logical mind and her emotions, and she couldn't determine which side was prevailing.

Elizabeth spoke softly to her younger sister. “When you shot that arrow at Wickham, did you feel that it was the right thing to do?’

Sitting up in the bed, Catherine turned to face Elizabeth. “Of course! He was trying to hurt you. I was not about to let him harm you if I could help it.” Reaching out, she clasped one of Elizabeth’s hands in both of hers. The moment she had seen Wickham trying to drag her injured sister away, she had felt something change in her. She could not have let him abscond with her any more than she could survive without breathing.

Elizabeth tilted her head in question. “How is it different? You still hurt someone.”

Catherine's brow furrowed in puzzlement, distorting her face. “I was protecting someone else. Protecting someone else from pain is something stronger, I think, especially if you love the person you are protecting.”

“Then I do not see this situation as anything different.” Elizabeth’s face was carefully blank, as if wanting her sister to draw her own conclusions.

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, her unease mounting.

“How do you think all of us would have felt had we found out Deerhurst had hurt you, or if you had married him and he mistreated you?” Pausing, Elizabeth waited a moment before continuing, allowing the depth of her message to sink in. “I can tell you for a fact that I would have been devastated to learn that you had been harmed in any way by that scoundrel. So, in effect, you were protecting us from harm by protecting yourself.”

Catherine sat in silence for a moment, unable to form words as her mind spun like the top that Elizabeth had spoken of. It was true that her sisters would have been devastated had something happened to her. If something similar had happened to any of her sisters, she would have thanked God that they had come out safely. The severity of the man's injuries would have mattered little to her if he had tried to harm her sisters in any way. Why was she any different? Why should she hold herself to a higher standard than she would anyone else?

The struggle within her mind finally subsided, as if a whirlwind had settled and left behind a calm stillness. The act of hurting someone to defend herself might evoke feelings of guilt in her, however, it was a means of shielding her sisters from emotional pain. Catherine’s muscles seemed to unclench as she finally accepted what she had been forced to. “I would never let him hurt any of you,” she declared firmly, their mutual protective instinct palpable.

Elizabeth's hand gently grasped Catherine's, bringing her closer and enveloping her in a protective hold. “No, my sweet girl, we sisters fight to protect each other in every way that we can.”

“I do not know what I was thinking.” Catherine’s words were muffled when she talked into Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“We all forgive you for being distressed. It is only expected. You had a very hard morning,” Georgiana spoke up from where she sat next to Lydia. She may not have exhibited the exuberance of some of the sisters, but she was still very supportive. “What I want to know is what are we going to do about my wayward cousin.”

Lydia bumped her shoulder into Georgiana. “That is certainly a better topic to consider. Deerhurst has no redeemable qualities and we would be best to forget him. Colonel Theodore, on the other hand, may be redeemed.”

“He said he was going to apologize. Or rather, he had many apologies to make and then later he said that he could not apologize enough for his stupidity.”

“Well, that is a start. It is always better if someone can admit how stupid they have been. It makes for better groveling,” Mary said, her face lighting up with a smile.

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