Page 12 of A Duchess Disciplined

“Sometimes, you do not always have the luxury of making a choice to preserve your happiness,” Dorothy said. “Sometimes, you must simply accept the hand that fate has dealt you, regardless of if you agree with it.”

“I think fate has dealt our family more than its share of unfairness,” Catherine replied heatedly. “It is unfair that you should also be taken so suddenly from us.”

“I know,” Dorothy said. “But it may not be so dreadful. You can watch over Elias and Bridget in my stead until you are wed. It is not as though they will have no one in the world.”

Catherine shook her head. “I would do anything to preserve our family’s happiness, but I cannot replace you. I cannot look after Bridget or counsel Elias like you always have. I am not…I am not proper ornurturinglike you are. I am a failed lady, and we both know it.”

Dorothy squeezed her sister’s hands. “You are not. You are as good a lady as any young miss in the ton, and if the gentlemen do not see that, they are unworthy of you. It is as simple as that.”

Catherine’s first impulse was to argue, but she had meant to comfort Dorothy. She did not wish for the conversation to become about her complaints instead.

“Still,” Catherine said, “I am not you. No woman could hope to match your compassion, patience, and devotion.”

“That is kind of you,” Dorothy replied. “But you will never know if you do not try, dear sister.”

On the contrary, Catherine did notneedto try to know. She only smiled, though.

“Perhaps,” Catherine muttered. “I still think you should refuse the marriage, though. Given time, I am sure Elias could justify such a choice. If nothing else, he may convince the tonof the document’s inauthenticity.”

Dorothy sighed. “Maybe. I do wonder if this is a battle that we ought to fight, though. His Grace is right about the match being advantageous to both our families. What would we do if something happened to Elias? If he fell ill or became involved in some terrible accident, we would have no one to care for our family.”

“You,” Catherine said.

“A woman’s word does not hold the same sway as a man’s,” Dorothy said softly. “You know that. I am the eldest daughter, so I must bear these things in mind. Do not despair, Cat. Whatsoever we decide, I am sure that everything will be well. Perhaps, different. But well.”

Dorothy fixed her attention on the fire, her eyes still bright with freshly shed tears. A lump rose in Catherine’s throat. How could everything be well if Dorothy was wed against her will? Catherine wanted to scream and rage and fight. But how could she when Dorothy was already resigned to her fate and Elias only willing to offer the feeblest—most proper—resistance?

“I am tired,” Dorothy said. “I think I should retire. You ought to, also. It has been a rather trying day.”

Catherine stood, stretching to soothe the ache in her knees. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Dorothy replied, sighing. “The matter will be less frightening in the morning. I am sure of it.”

It would not be. Catherine left her sister’s room, still thinking about their conversation. Dorothy should not have to wed, especially not at the behest of some man who had the gall to force himself into their estate and demand a bride.

Still, she found her thoughts lingering in a decidedly improper way about how handsome he was. He was as cold and composed as a marble statue, and he seemed to have the physique of one, too. The duke’s shoulders were broad and tapered to a thin waist. His jawline was strong, and his eyes held an unusual, piercing sharpness. When he looked at her, Catherine had felt as though his green eyes could see all the way to the very depths of her soul, and the intensity of his gaze had left her breathless.

Catherine was so consumed with her thoughts that she failed to notice His Grace until she stumbled into a wall of hard muscle. Heat rushed to her face, and she stumbled back. Catherine hurried to find words, as the Duke of Sarsen stared at her in the darkened light of the corridor.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked, her temper flaring. “It is far too late for you to be wandering the corridors, Your Grace.”

The Duke of Sarsen did not even have the grace to look sheepish at being caught outside his bedchamber at such an unseemly hour. Catherine knew that it must be approaching midnight. After a heartbeat, his features sharpened into a mask of disdain.

“I might ask the same of you, my lady. Why are you wandering the corridors when you ought to be abed?”

Catherine’s jaw clenched. “Unless you have forgotten, Your Grace, this is my home. I think I have far more reason to wander the corridors at such a late hour than you do. Besides, what I choose to do is hardly any business of yours. You have come unannounced and unwanted to my brother’s estate—to myfamilyhome—and demanded an exorbitant price from us!”

A small part of Catherineknewthat she ought to cease speaking, or else, she chanced deeply offending the Duke of Sarsen. As her face grew hot and her temper frayed, Catherine found that she could not bring herself to care about the consequences of offending him, though.

Maybe she could make him angry enough that he would storm away and leave them be. Sure, Elias would be forced to contend with the embarrassment should His Grace spread the story to anyone else, but it was certainly preferable for his wayward sister to cause a scandal than for him. No one would be surprised ifshecaused trouble.

“You have come here to take my sister with no preamble, and you do not even care what taking Dorothy away will do to our family!”

His Grace’s nostrils flared, and he took a bold step towards her. Then, another. Catherine glowered at him, her chin tipped up in defiance.

“Do you deny it?” she asked.

Another step. He had become improperly close, so Catherine took a step back. However, she met the wall and found herself trapped. His Grace towered over her, so near that she could reach out and touch him. Catherine tilted her head back until her neck ached, so she could look him in the eye.

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