Page 60 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
Ian had spent too long in bitterness, against his mother, against Cassandra, against anyone who would challenge him. He had built barriers against others and made it so no one could come close to him. In all of this, he had wanted only to protect himself from the hurt he had known at the hands of women. But things were different now. He had found Catherine, and she had proved to him that the fairer sex deserved another chance. In his love for Catherine, he knew there could be no betrayal, and so finding it in his heart to forgive his mother – to forgive Cassandra, even – seemed a little easier.
“You have found a woman who has waited for this moment half a lifetime. When I awoke this morning, I did not expect this to be the happy day of reconciliation,” she exclaimed, and Ian smiled.
“Neither did I, mother,” he replied.
He had wanted to come to Ashcourt Park in a stern and willful manner, to demand the answers he sought, and leave before his mother could offer her pleadings. But instead, he had found the time past for bitterness, a bitterness he could no longer hold on to. He had become so consumed with his rules, his ponderings on the past, his own bitterness, and yet now, faced with the woman who had brought him into the world, he could find nothing to hold against her.
“This is a happy day, indeed. The happiest of days,” she exclaimed, and she sprang forward to embrace him.
“Mother, really…” he said, but she clung to him, weeping with joy.
“Oh, Ian, you do not know how happy you make me,” she exclaimed, and Catherine, too, was smiling.
“Well done,” she whispered.
“But there is still more to know, mother, and the past cannot be entirely forgotten so readily. Do not think this is the end. There is still much you must prove,” Ian said, for he would never entirely forget the pain she had caused him.
His mother nodded, but there could be no doubt that the weight was lifted from her countenance, and now she embraced Catherine, too, telling her how glad she was that Ian had at last found a woman who loved him as he would love her. “I knew Cassandra was not right for you,” she said, and Ian smiled.
“And why did you not say something at the time?” he asked, and his mother shook her head.
“Am I to force my opinions on you? No, I had to let you make your own decisions, but I am sorry for the pain she caused you. I know you loved her,” she said.
“Let us leave all that in the past now, mother,” he said, and his mother nodded.
“And here is to the future, and what will come next,” she said, raising her teacup in a toast.
Chapter Thirty-One
“What does come next?” Catherine asked, when later she and Ian were alone.
Ian’s mother had insisted they stay at Ashcourt Park for the night – “if not longer” – and Redfield had been instructed to have chambers prepared for them looking out over the gardens. The room was lavishly furnished, just as the rest of the house, and there had been no expense spared in turning Ashcourt Park into the sanctuary which Ian’s mother had made it.
Catherine had warmed to her mother-in-law, and it had gladdened her heart to see Ian and the Baroness reconciled. They had enjoyed dinner together, and the Baroness had taken Catherine to walk in the gardens, the two of them finding much in common. Despite what she had heard of Ian’s mother – which was not a great deal – she could not help but like her, given as they both possessed shared affection for the man who had now found it in his heart to forgive.
“I must speak with the duke. That much is certain,” Ian said.
They were sitting together on a chaise lounge by the fire, the evening having drawn in and the curtains pulled across the windows. Catherine was tired, for it had been a long and emotionally fraught day, though one which had concluded happily. She was looking forward to bed, but there was still so much she wanted to know.
“The Duke of Sinclair? Do you think he will listen?” she asked, and Ian shrugged his shoulders.
“If he is truly my father, then he must burden some of that responsibility. Your father and brother forget they are making claims against him, too,” he replied.
“Claims he would only deny. It is you they wish to tarnish,” Catherine replied, but Ian shook his head.
“The letters prove as much, and the truth they contain will recreate considerable problems for him, too. It is in his interests to put a stop to this. He is a powerful man, and I doubt he will take kindly to such accusations by your father or brother,” Ian replied.
Catherine nodded. Her father was an impulsive man, given over to action before thought. He would not have considered such possibility, his only intention being to discredit Ian for his own ends. If the Duke of Sinclair was proved as Ian’s father, then it would create a scandal so as to engulf not only their family, but the entire Sinclair dynasty, too. She thought of Rebecca and Nicholas, their happy marriage, and how dreadful it would be to be so confronted in public humiliation. The Duke of Sinclair was known as a womanizer, but it would be quite a different matter to have a son of Ian’s rank and privilege known to all.
“Then there is hope in silencing this rumor and of forcing my father and Rickard to push aside their claims,” she said, and Ian nodded.
“For now, it is a threat, and they will do nothing to reveal it until they are confronted. It is their only hand, and they must choose when to deal it. We will go to London tomorrow and I shall speak with the duke. There is surely a way to remedy the situation, but we must act before Rickard and your father do,” he said.
Catherine put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. She had imagined her wedding day quite differently, and its aftermath nothing like this. Marriage was supposed to be the end of the story – just as it had been for Rebecca and Nicholas, and Samantha and Norman. How happy they had been on their wedding days, and in the lives they now lived.
“We will be happy, Ian. I know we will,” she whispered, and he nodded.
“Are we not already?” he asked, looking down at her and kissing her on the forehead.
