Page 59 of Her Bear of a Duke

The child pulled back again, but she seemed to realize that the result of whatever she had done was there, and she had to face it whether she liked it or not.

They quickly made their way to the stairs, but then Dorothy stopped, pulling Catherine back. There, at the bottom of the stairs, stood a lady that bore a remarkable resemblance to Catherine. She walked the hallway as if she had been there a hundred times before, and the staff seemed to recognize her even if they did not seem too pleased that she was there.

"There she is," Catherine whispered, smiling in spite of everything. "My aunt."

Dorothy turned her attentions back to the lady, her heart pounding.

"Catherine, what did you do?"

But the little girl was already running to the lady, her fear replaced by an innate joy.

"Aunt Annabelle!" She beamed, leaping into her arms.

"Oh, my beautiful niece," Lady Annabelle said softly. "How wonderful to finally see you!"

Dorothy remained at the top of the stairs, unable to move. She did not dare follow after Catherine and greet the lady, not when she knew so much about her.

"I told you, Lady Annabelle," Morgan stormed as he entered the room, "I do not know what brought you here, but you are not welcome."

"Our niece did," she snapped. "She wrote to me, telling me how desperately she wished to meet her mother's family. I know how you feel about me, but surely you can set that aside for the girl's sake?"

"If I am, as you proclaimed, a bear, then I would do no such thing."

"Oh, Morgan," she said, softening and placing a hand on his arm, "that was so long ago now. I am not the young lady you met, especially after my sister's loss."

Dorothy listened from afar, but more than anything she watched Lady Annabelle. She was beautiful, and of similar age to Morgan.She truly did look exactly like Catherine, and when the three of them stood together they looked like a family. There was a strange feeling in her stomach, one that made her feel quite unwell.

Morgan, however, did not soften even at the mention of Catherine.

"You," he said bluntly to the girl, "I will speak to later. Go to your governess."

"But, Uncle Morgan, I–"

"Now, please, Catherine. I am not angry with you, but this must be settled without you."

The child left reluctantly, her smile gone. As she and her governess reached the stairs, however, they all noticed Dorothy standing there. She wished to hide, but there was no doing that.

"Dorothy, you may join us," Morgan called. "If anything, that is my preference."

She nodded, descending the staircase. She cowered under Lady Annabelle's gaze, knowing perfectly well that a single word from her would be enough to make her crumble.

"This is my wife, the Duchess of Ulverston" he said pointedly, which Dorothy had to admit helped.

"It is a pleasure, Your Grace," Lady Annabelle greeted with a sickeningly sweet smile. "I am so pleased that His Grace has found someone so… pleasant to be his wife."

Her tone was pointed, but Dorothy tried to ignore it; Lady Annabelle had a history with her husband, and though she did not like it there was nothing that she could do about it. The best thing for her to do was to remain polite until she left, which she hoped would be soon.

"Your Grace," she continued, turning back to Morgan, "I did not come here in search of trouble. All that I wish to do is see my niece. I have as much right to her as you, after all."

"Be that as it may, my wife and I have her here with us because it is her home. She is happy here, and though she has apparently asked to see you I will not have you here if you cannot abide by my rules about her."

"I have no intention of overstepping. I only wish to spend time with her. When I lost my sister, I… my apologies, but I would prefer to discuss this with you in private."

She looked pointedly at Dorothy, which made her feel ill at ease. She did not want to leave her husband with a lady he knew so personally, but she was intimidated by her. She was tall and slim with pointed features and she looked down at Dorothy as though she were Catherine's age.

"That will not be happening," Morgan explained bluntly. "Anything that you tell me can also be heard by my wife. I shall only tell her myself, in any case."

She grumbled, but Dorothy hardly noticed. Instead, she felt a great deal of admiration for her husband. She had not expected Morgan to defend her, given that he wished to have his answers.

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