Page 19 of A Duchess Disciplined

Catherine halted abruptly, just past the parlor. Bridget’s soft, plaintive voice drifted through the walls. Catherine’s heart ached at the distress present in her younger sister’s voice. It did not take a considerable amount of thought to surmise what had caused her sister to feel such grief.

“—she cannot truly mean to marry him, can she?” Bridget asked. “Cat?”

“I believe she does mean it,” Dorothy said.

Catherine pressed herself against the wall and took a steadying breath. She ought to join her sisters, rather than listening to them hidden from view, but Dorothy’s gentle voice gave her pause. That was the voice Dorothy used when comforting them, the voice she had always used.

“She does not even know him!” Bridget exclaimed. “None of us do! What if he is a horrid man? A monster like—like in Perrault’sBluebeard!”

Dorothy laughed softly. “He is no monster. I am quite sure that His Grace has no chamber of dead wives to be discovered. He has never even wed.”

“I did not mean literally,” Bridget replied. “But what if he does have some dark secret? We would not know until Catherine was already the Duchess of Sarsen. What, then?”

“Then, we would rescue her,” Dorothy said. “Elias would never allow any of us to remain in an unhappy marriage. It is true that we must consider our reputations among the ton, but our brother would never choose his reputation over our happiness.”

“Is that not what he is doing in allowing Catherine to marry the Duke of Sarsen?” Bridget exclaimed, her voice taking a higher pitch. “Is that not sacrificing her happiness and freedom, so we might appease the vicious tongues of the ton?”

“Catherine is of age,” Dorothy said. “She may make her own choices.”

Catherine closed her eyes and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Itwasher choice. Dorothy had agreed to marry His Grace, and Catherine could have remained silent.Shehad chosen to speak and offer herself instead.Shehad chosen to take His Grace’s proposed solution. There was no one she could blame save herself.

“Besides,” Dorothy continued. “We do not know that she will marry him yet. Perhaps, the Baron of Westwood will say that the contract is forged, or maybe the solicitor will insist that it is not legally binding, and therefore, need not be honored.”

“I know.”

“Then, we need not worry about Bridget’s marriage until it happens. We have some time,” Dorothy said.

“I know,” Bridget replied. “But what if shedoesmarry him? What can we do, then?”

“We will think of something,” Dorothy said. ‘We always do. As long as we are family, we will always have one another. Even if we do not live together, that will be true.”

Catherine bit the inside of her cheek. Dorothy always knew what to say to lift others’ spirits. She was quite unlike Catherine, who was adept at sharp retorts but always floundered when she tried to comfort others. She could not replace Dorothy, so if one of them must wed the Duke of Sarsen, Catherine knew it must be her.

“And someday,” Dorothy continued, “you will wed and begin a family of your own. That is your dream, is it not?”

“Yes,” Bridget said.

“I will be happy for you,” Dorothy replied. “If you and Catherine are happily wed, it will mean that everything Elias and I did worked. All we have wanted for the two of you is to see you both happily wed and safe in the arms of loving husbands.”

“But Catherine may not be happy,” Bridget said. “I always imagined that she would find a love match. Did you not see the disappointment in her face after the Season ended? Of course, Catherine tried to hide it, but if I noticed it, you must have.”

Catherine winced. She had thought that her disappointment was hidden well, but it seemed that Catherine was not quite the accomplished actress she might have assumed. Her failure of a Season was not unexpected, yet she had still found herself deeply dissatisfied with her poor prospects.

She had attended several balls and soirees, and she had received only a handful of callers—far fewer than a lady of her position ought to gain. Maybe the duke’s arrival was meant to be her penance for her failure to be a lady. Her punishment for being unable to remain true to herself and fulfill the ton’s expectations.

“I know. Perhaps, she might,” Dorothy said. “It is easy to linger on the worst that may occur from this situation, but it is equally likely that the arrangement will end well. Catherine and His Grace are not well-acquainted yet. It may be that they realize they love one another.”

Catherine shook her head.Thatwould never happen, but she did not have the heart to tell her sisters that she would never have even an inkling of affection for the Duke of Sarsen. The muscles in her stomach clenched tightly. His Grace certainly inspired feelings within her, but those were not affection.

They were not love, and they never would be. Catherine pushed herself away from the wall and wandered slowly up the stairs. She trailed her hand over the banister. In the two years after their parents’ deaths, they had spent most of their days on the country estate. She might be leaving soon.

“All will be well,” Dorothy continued. “I promise, Bridget. Our family is strong. We have survived far worse situations. We will survive this one, also.”

“I know,” Bridget said. “You are right. You are always right.”

Her sisters’ voices sounded louder. Catherine turned her head and saw them emerge from the parlor. Her breath caught in her throat. A wave of fondness overcame her as she gazed at them.

“How was the walk in the gardens?” Dorothy asked, her voice betraying nothing of the tumultuous conversation she had just shared with Bridget.

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