Page 78 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
Catherine was silent, her chest rising and falling, glaring at him. He took another tentative step closer to her. He did not want to touch her yet for fear she would spurn him and overreact again.
“That time of my life is over, Catherine,” he assured her in a soft voice. “You are my wife now. I will never break my vows to you.”
She stared at him, her eyes flickering uncertainly. He took the risk, reaching out for her hand, but she snatched it away before he could take it.
“I wish I could believe you,” she said in a faint, strained voice, gazing at him steadily. “Iwantto believe you.”
“Then believe me,” he pleaded, holding out his hand to her, his heart lurching. “I swear to you, I am not having an affair with Lady Isabella or any other lady. I willneverhave an affair with anyone. I am married to you.” He hesitated. “Do you think I would do such a thing when I saw how adultery affected my parents’ marriage? How it broke apart our entire family and ruined my father?”
Catherine was silent, blinking rapidly. He could tell that she was at least contemplating what he was saying. He edged a little bit closer, trying to press his point.
“I wouldneverdo that,” he affirmed, his tone so vehement that it surprised even himself. “And apart from that, the thought of being with another woman is anathema to me.” His heart somersaulted in his chest as he gazed at her. “I made a vow toyou, but it is not only that. You are the only woman I want, Catherine.”
Catherine looked agonized, biting her lip, her eyes glistening with tears. He waited to hear how she would respond to him, his body thrumming with tension.
Tell her you are in love with her. Tell her before it is too late and you lose her.
He cursed under his breath. He didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t know if it was something she wanted to hear. He was riddled with insecurity, envisioning her rejecting him or even laughing at him.
But he knew it went deeper than even that. If he laid his love for her at her feet, he was risking it all. He was admitting to her that he couldn’t live without her. And what if she decided that his love wasn’t enough for her, just as his mother had decided his father’s love wasn’t enough?
He swore again, trying to say the words that would heal this, but they were stuck in the back of his throat, choking him.
Catherine exhaled slowly. She seemed calmer now, but she still did not want him near her. She took a step away, gazing at him steadily. His heart lurched again. He knew how he could make this right, so why couldn’t he just say it?
“I need to be alone,” she said in an even voice. “I need to think.”
He nodded, swallowing past the bile in his throat. “I respect that.” He managed to smile at her. “I respectyou, Catherine.”
I love you. You are the only woman I will ever love.
The unspoken words hovered in the air, but she didn’t hear them, of course. She smiled sadly at him before turning away, walking towards the maze.
“Should you go in there?” he called, frowning. “You had a devil of a time of it finding your way out of the last one…”
Catherine smiled ruefully. “I am afraid that the maze I must figure my way out of is not the one standing before me.”
Thomas’s heart clenched with sorrow. He tried to smile at her, but his face felt frozen. He watched her disappear into the maze, his hands balling into fists at his sides, desperate to follow her but knowing he must respect her desire for privacy.
He cursed aloud, before turning away and slowly making his way back to the party. Every fiber of his being was telling him to follow her, to finally say what needed to be said, to lay his heart at her feet, once and for all.
He resisted it with great effort. He would give her the space that she needed, knowing that when she emerged from that maze, he might lose her forever.
Catherine walked through the maze, barely looking as she turned left and then right, taking no notice of the path. A part of her wished she could stay lost in here forever—that the tall hedges would simply swallow her entirely.
It was cooler in here and blessedly silent. She could barely discern the sound of the partygoers talking and laughing. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, cooling her neck. She glanced at the sky. It was cobalt blue with not a whisper of a cloud in it, and the sun was shining brightly. At least she knew that she was in no danger of being rained on this time.
Suddenly, she stopped. There was a park bench just ahead of her. She sat down, gazing around, momentarily spellbound by a small caterpillar crawling on the ground.
He told you that he is not having an affair. He swears it. He looked so sincere. But then how could Patrick have gotten it so wrong?
Her face contorted in an effort not to burst into noisy tears. She inhaled deeply, fighting the urge with all her might. She was a strong woman, and she would not be broken by this. She would survive. She always had, and she always would.
But do you want to live without him? Can you live without him? What kind of a life would it be?
Catherine sighed, gazing up at the sky. She knew what kind of life it would be. It would be dull and colorless and altogether bland. It would be like trying to live without poetry or music or art or any of the beautiful things in this world that made life worth living.
He was the most beautiful song she had ever heard. How could she bear to close her ears to his tune?
