Page 25 of A Duke's Scandalous Obsession
“I will be there,” Catherine nodded, wondering if she could perhaps try one of the new gowns that was hanging in the wardrobe. A flicker of joy appeared in her and she was grateful for it.
Mrs. Jenkins nodded, then silently left the room, closing the door behind her. Catherine turned around the room, taking a deep breath. She was steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead. However, that flicker of hope was there. It refused to go away. Her brother was protected, and now she was a married, wealthy woman. For some, that was more than enough.
Still, she wondered if it was possible to keep her independence away from the responsibilities of her new life. The thought of relinquishing control over her life, of bending down to the expectations of society and the demands of her new role as a wife, filled her with a sense of unease.
You are a woman of strength and determination,she reminded herself. The only way they could take away her independence was if she willingly gave it away. She smiled at the thought, knowing that she would face whatever challenges came her way with courage and grace.
Chapter 13
Dominic was nervous. In fact, he had been nervous all afternoon in his study. He had no idea what had come over him. But he knew that it had everything to do with the woman who was now sharing this home with him.
As he waited in the dining hall, his anticipation grew with each passing moment. He had orchestrated that evening’s dinner as a special occasion for the two of them to celebrate their union. The table was adorned with the finest linens and silverware, just as it had been for the wedding breakfast, and the room was aglow with the soft flicker of candlelight. Everything was perfect, just as he had imagined it would be.
Moments passed and finally, Catherine opened the door, her presence filling the room with a radiance that took his breath away. As she approached, he couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty, her grace, her strength.
“Am I late?” she asked, glancing at the table and taking a seat opposite him.
“No, you are just in time,” he grinned from across the table, signaling at the servants to start serving the first course. “It’s a small celebration, just for the two of us, celebrating our future together.”
She looked down at her still empty plate, then back at him. “You think we should celebrate…” She obviously wanted to say that word, blackmail, but she bit her tongue when she remembered that they weren’t alone. He admired her self-control. In fact, he admired many things about her, even those he never expected.
“Us,” he continued her thought in a way she didn’t plan on. “Yes. Us.”
“Ending up here the way we did,” she said, bravely choosing to end it under her conditions. Once again, he was in awe of her boldness to speak her mind unapologetically. Not many ladies of the ton could be found guilty of that transgression, a transgression he found intriguing in a woman more and more.
“Does it matter how one ends up somewhere as long as they are there eventually?” he wondered aloud. “Mistakes happen. And mistakes can be mended.”
“Have you ever broken a mirror?” she asked him an unexpected question, which he thought bore no consequence to the conversation at hand, but she surprised him with her logic.
He stared at her for a moment, not certain whether he heard her correctly. Then he nodded. “Yes, I have broken a mirror once. Why?”
“The glass shatters,” she explained calmly, her hands resting in her lap, out of sight. “You made a mistake, and you broke the glass. You are sorry, of course, but your regret doesn’t mend the broken glass. You may try to repair it somehow, put it back together, but the glass will always have cracks. My point is that some things cannot be mended. Ever.”
He knew what she was referring to. And he had to admit that he loved the metaphor. She was very eloquent, his wife. Still, he refused to give up. She was his wife now. And he would do anything in his power to show her that there was another side to him, a side she might actually like.
“Perfection doesn’t exist, Cate,” he couldn’t resist using the shortened version of her name. However, she refused to allow it. Her cheeks flared up and her eyes widened in shock.
“Do not call me that,” she snarled. “For anyone other than my brother, my name is Catherine.”
He nodded, not wishing to antagonize her. Only to prove a point.
“Catherine,” he nodded, considering it still a small victory. “The most beautiful things in the world are cracked, broken, mended, healed, and made beautiful once again.”
“How can anything broken be beautiful?” she dared him with her eyes to give her an example, and he was more than happy to provide her with one. He could tell that she didn’t expect him to retaliate, but she didn’t know him that well yet. He was proving to be a great conversationalist, something he wasn’t expecting.
“Seashells, for example,” he said, leaning back more comfortably into his chair. “They are often admired for their beauty. However, many seashells bear scars or blemishes from their time in the ocean, such as chips, cracks, or worn edges. These imperfections actually tell the story of the shell’s journey and add to its beauty.”
He had her there. Her lips were slightly parted in an effort to find some sort of retort, but she had none. Worse yet, she agreed with him. He could see it in her eyes, and he was unable to resist pointing it out.
“You agree, don’t you, Catherine?” He relished saying her name out loud as it rolled off of his tongue. He suddenly remembered her own tongue intertwined with his, and he yearned for more. That very evening, he would come to her and make her melt in his arms. He would make her his, show her how she deserved to be wanted and loved. He wanted to hear her moan his name in ecstasy. Her eyes closed; her lips parted. The thought drove him mad.
“Maybe,” she squeezed through clenched teeth, but he could tell just from that one word that the example had both caught her off guard and amused her. She reached for her fork and started eating.
“I will take it,” he grinned, proceeding to eat as well. “But on another note, now that we are husband and wife, we need to attend social events as husband and wife.”
“Ugh, you mean balls?” she frowned. He almost laughed at the fact that she disliked balls as much as he did, but he managed to suppress the urge to do so.
“Well, not only balls,” he clarified, putting his fork down. “The first things we must do is visit my aunt, Lady Penelope Huntington. She is having a garden party the day after tomorrow, and we have been cordially invited.”
