Page 86 of A Rogue to Resist
“I don’t know how to be any other way,” she admitted softly.
“Then learn,” Rosabel urged, reaching across to clasp Katherine’s hand in her own. “Before it’s too late. Before you watch Drake marry a woman he doesn’t love while you retreat to Willow Park to nurse regrets for the rest of your life.”
The use of Drake’s given name—so unusual from the proper Rosabel—underscored the intimacy of their conversation. This was not the duchess offering social advice to her sister-in-law, but one woman counselling another on matters of the heart.
“I’m afraid,” Katherine whispered, the admission torn from some deep place within her. “Not of Society’s censure, or even of Drake’s rejection, but of what happens if by some miracle he does return my feelings. What if I fail at marriage again? What if I can’t be what he needs?”
“Oh, Katherine.” Rosbel’s eyes filled with compassion. “Your marriage to Edmund didn’t fail because of any inadequacy on your part. It failed because he was incapable of seeing your worth, of valuing the remarkable woman you are.”
“Drake sees me,” Katherine acknowledged, the realization both terrifying and exhilarating. “From our very first meeting,even when we argued constantly, he saw me. Not just as Edmund’s widow or the Duke of Wexford’s sister, but as myself.”
“Exactly,” Rosabel agreed. “And that’s precisely why you must speak with him before the wedding. Not to demand or expect anything, but simply to ensure that whatever choice he makes, it’s an informed one.”
Katherine stared into her teacup, watching the amber liquid reflect the afternoon sunlight. The prospect of approaching Drake, of laying bare her feelings after years of careful self-protection, terrified her. Yet the alternative—watching him bind himself to Lady Eleanor while she remained silent—seemed suddenly unbearable.
“What would I even say?” she asked, a note of helplessness creeping into her voice. “How does one approach a betrothed man to discuss matters of the heart without appearing utterly shameless?”
“With honesty,” Rosabel replied simply. “The same directness you’ve brought to your management of Greythorne and Willow Park. Address the matter as the intelligent, forthright woman you are.”
Katherine’s laugh held no humour. “You make it sound simple, but I’ve spent so long protecting my feelings that I’m not sure I remember how to be truly honest about them. Lord Clifton certainly never understood my actual reasons for refusing him.”
“Lord Clifton is not Lord Greythorne,” Rosabel countered. “And if Drake values your directness in estate matters, I suspect he would appreciate it equally in personal ones.”
The use of his given names created a sense of intimacy that made Katherine’s heart beat faster. Drake and Katherine—not Lord Greythorne and Lady Katherine, but two people stripped of titles and formality, facing each other as equals.
“Even if I were willing to speak with him,” Katherine said, “finding an appropriate opportunity would be nearly impossible. We can hardly have such a conversation in a crowded ballroom.”
“It would be risky,” Rosabel pointed out with unexpected pragmatism. “But there are alternatives to ballrooms and dinner parties.”
“Such as?” Katherine asked, curiosity mingling with apprehension.
“He resides at Greythorne House when in London,” Rosabel said. “A formal call would be entirely appropriate, particularly if you had estate business to discuss.”
Katherine frowned slightly. “A morning call at a bachelor’s residence? Even with business as the pretext, it would raise eyebrows.”
“Not if you choose your timing carefully,” Rosabel suggested. “Lord Greythorne typically rides in Hyde Park early each morning, according to James. His return to Greythorne House would coincide with acceptable calling hours yet precede the time when most visitors might arrive.”
The suggestion was so unlike the typically proper Rosabel that Katherine couldn’t help but smile. “I’m shocked, Bel. Are you actually encouraging me to engage in subterfuge?”
“I’m encouraging you to create circumstances favourable to an important conversation,” Rosabel corrected primly, though her eyes sparkled with uncharacteristic mischief. “The distinction may be subtle, but it exists.”
Katherine considered the proposal, her practical mind already turning over the possibilities. A call at Greythorne House to discuss estate matters would be unusual but not scandalous, particularly given their prior collaboration on such issues. And if she timed her arrival carefully, they might havethe privacy needed for a more personal conversation before interruptions occurred.
Except her own cowardice, which urged her to retreat to the safety of inaction rather than risk the pain of rejection.
“The risk terrifies me,” she admitted, meeting Rosabel’s gaze directly. “But the thought of losing him without ever speaking the truth hurts more.”
“That’s your answer, then,” Rosabel said softly. “When the prospect of regret outweighs the fear of action, the path becomes clear.”
A plan began to form in Katherine’s mind, pragmatic despite its emotional underpinnings. “I need a legitimate estate matter to discuss, something that would justify my call without arousing immediate suspicion.”
“The western fields,” Rosabel suggested promptly. “The very issue that first brought you into conflict. Perhaps a proposal for their joint management might serve as your ostensible purpose?”
“Yes,” Katherine agreed, warming to the idea. “A cooperative approach would benefit both properties and would address Drake’s concerns about efficiency without requiring him to relinquish the income entirely.”
“Perfect.” Rosabel smiled with approval. “And such a significant proposal would naturally require personal discussion rather than communication through solicitors or stewards.”
The sisters-in-law exchanged a look of perfect understanding. What had begun as a vague hope was rapidly transforming into a concrete plan, one that would bring Katherine face-to-face with Drake Halston before his wedding to Lady Eleanor could proceed.
