Page 51 of Captured By the Cold Duke
“That would be fine if the duke were asking for reassurance,” Minerva said, frowning. “But instead, he is just pushing Cherie away. And personally, I don’t think Cherie should have to convince her husband to treat her as she deserves.”
“I thought you liked the duke,” Cassandra said, “after how he helped out your sister.”
“I do like the duke!” Minerva looked surprised by the question. “I like him very much. I’m approaching this from a purely rational point of view. As Cherie’s friend, I can’t encourage her to try and save him from his own problems just because I happen to like the man.”
“But you can’t approach love from a purely rational point of view,” Cassandra argued. “Love is not rational. Humans are not rational! And sometimes we have to sacrifice for those we love. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. But it’s worth it when it’s for the right person.”
“If that’s what love is, then I want no part of it,” Minerva said, shaking her head. “I want to be able to make rational decisions about what is right for me and not be swayed by my feelings.”
“You’re both forgetting that I don’t really have any choice in this matter,” Cherie said. She sat up and looked between her friends. “He doesn’t want to try. I can’t just talk him into changing his mind.”
“Well, there we disagree,” Samantha said. She flopped down on the bed and looked at Cherie very seriously. “Do you love him?”
The word reverberated through Cherie, and she felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs.
Memories suddenly came back to her: Thomas, bursting into the clearing where Lord Dawson was trying to compromise Chastity; Thomas, fighting Lord Dawson, his hair wild and his eyes full of fury; Thomas, standing in front of her at the inn, looking like a knight in shining armor (albeit one she didn’t think she needed); Thomas, explaining that he was insisting that they marry because of his regard for her, because he didn’t want to see her ruined.
And then even more memories came back to her, memories from long ago: him playing with her when her brother and his friends visited her; him giving her gifts of books and strange specimens that he’d gathered on his visits to India; him kissing her hand that time in the parlor when she had been out riding and when she walked in on him, he looked as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“Lady Cherie,” he’d said, and it was the first time he’d ever used her title ahead of her name. “You look…” His eyes had swept over her, and she’d felt a strange mixture of flattery but also annoyance. She wanted him to find her beautiful—she wanted all young men to find her beautiful when she was that age and just coming into her feminine power—but she also didn’t want him to treat her any differently. And part of her had been annoyed to find that all men were the same: they only saw her one way.
But instead of saying something saccharine, he’d said the most perfect words imaginable.
“You know, the first time he realized he desired me was after he returned from India when I was fifteen,” she said aloud to her friends. “He told me this yesterday. He was waiting for Aidan in the parlor, and I walked in wearing my riding clothes. It had been a year or more since I’d seen him, and in that time, I’d become a woman. And in that moment, he no longer saw the little girl he'd been playing with, but the woman I was becoming.”
“When you were fifteen?” Minerva said, frowning slightly. “So right after your mother died?”
“Yes.” Cherie swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. “She had died six months previously, while Thomas was in India. I’d written to him about her death, and he’d sent me the kindest letter, but otherwise, we hadn’t talked much. I was so busy missing my mother that I didn’t have room in my heart tomiss him as well. And I missed my mothersomuch. She was beautiful, you know, and the life of every party.”
“I remember,” Minerva said softly.
“I wish I’d known her,” Cassandra sighed. “Aidan also speaks of her with such reverence.”
“And she died at such a hard age for me,” Cherie continued. “My body was changing, going from a little girl to a woman. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her. And I felt so uncomfortable in my skin. But that day, when I walked into the parlor and saw Thomas standing there, he didn’t tell me I looked beautiful or grown-up. He didn’t make me feel even more uncomfortable.”
“What did he say?” Samantha asked, leaning toward her.
“He said I looked like my mother.”
They were all silent as they thought about this. Out of the corner of her eye, Cherie was even sure she saw Cassandra brush away a tear.
“So yes,” she said, drawing herself up. “I do think I love him. It wasn’t a lightning bolt for me like it was for him. I loved him for all those years when I was a child, but only as a brother. And then when we grew up, he was in India, and I longed for him but couldn’t understand my feelings. But when he said we had to marry, all of that shut down inside of me.” She laughed. “Isuppose I’m always like that when a man tries to tell me what to do.”
“As you should be,” Samantha said, with a small wink.
“But he has always been there for me. He has always tried to protect me and those I love. And he has always said the right thing.”
“Until now,” Minerva said.
“Yes, until now.”
“If you really love him, then I think you need to fight for him,” Samantha said. “You have no other choice. I know Minerva thinks you shouldn’t, but this is your life and your marriage. And if you don’t fight for it, then you will wonder for the rest of your life if you could have done more.”
“I agree with Samantha,” Cassandra said. “I think love is worth fighting for. And you’re in this marriage: what other option do you have?”
“There is always annulment,” Minerva pointed out. Again, everyone turned to look at her.
“When did you become so unromantic?” Samantha asked, frowning and crossing her arms.
