The beautiful actress gave a snort of derision, as she seated herself upon the chair farthest from Katherine.
"Well, as can be expected," Molly replied sullenly, "I don't know why he stuck me here when he knew how much I loved London."
"Did you not wish to live in the countryside?" Katherine asked with surprise. She had assumed that Charles had changed his will at Molly's request, that he had given the greater favour to his favoured woman.
"Me?" Molly roared with laughter, "Want to live in the countryside? Forgive me for saying, your Grace, but you're having a laugh. Lord Atwood knew how much I detest nature, animals and all things pastoral, and yet he lumped me here. Still, he always favoured you—I expect that's why he set you up in Tilney Street."
Katherine was momentarily dumbfounded; what on earth gave Molly the impression that Charles favoured her? For years, Charles had extolled Molly's virtues as a woman and a mother, placing her high upon a pedestal, one that Katherine could never hope to reach. To hear that the perfect Molly Price thought Charles had favoured his wife was so ridiculous, that Katherine actually laughed.
"Forgive me," she said, for her hostess looked rather startled by Katherine's hysterical giggles. "But I spent so many years listening to how wonderful you were, in comparison to me, that it is a shock to hear you say that Charles felt anything toward me other than contempt."
"Contempt?" it was Molly's turn to laugh now, "He thought the sun shone out of you, your Grace. My wife is so refined, Molly, why can you not be more like her? My wife is so ladylike Molly. My wife is practically a saint, Molly."
Molly was quite the mimic, Katherine thought, absently admiring how she had recreated Charles' patronising tones. She did not dwell on Molly's talents for long, though, for she was wondering at her words. Charles had spent years, it seemed, comparing both women to each other. Years, putting the effort into making both the ladies in his life feel unworthy of his attention. The man's audacity still had the capacity to take Katherine's breath away; how dare he treat them both so shabbily.
"It seems Charles enjoyed making us both feel inferior to the other," Katherine said, and Molly snorted again in agreement.
"If he wasn't torturing me with words, he was torturing me with his fists," the actress scowled.
Had Charles hit Molly too?
It shouldn't have surprised Katherine that he had, but Charles had trained her so well into believing that his beatings were brought about by her own stupidity, that she had blindly believed that she had deserved every slap. That was the worst of it, Katherine reflected sadly, believing that pain was all you deserved. What type of monster did that to a woman?
Though she was not at all glad that Charles had been violent to Molly, Katherine was glad that she had learned of it. For years, she had internalised all Charles' anger, had thought that she had brought it on herself, had thought that she was not worthy...But it was not possible that the two of them had deserved his ire. Charles had been the common denominator in their torture; thus, it was Charles who had been the problem.
"He's gone now," Katherine whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
"And you have married another," Molly replied, "I saw you both, at the theatre, when I was visiting friends in town. I have never seen a man look as tenderly at his wife, as the duke looks at you, your Grace."
Katherine said nothing, for Miss Price had truly crossed the bounds of propriety with her remark, but a warm feeling filled her stomach. Michael loved her, and she him. How silly she had been to push him away, just because a man like Charles had made her think she was unworthy of love.
"May I ask," Katherine began, thinking to put to rest the biggest of her concerns, "My husband sired a child with you, and I thought myself barren. Now, mercifully, I find that I am not. Is Ellie-May Charles' daughter?"
"What would you do if I said that she was not?" Molly queried, her face now deathly pale.
"Nothing," Katherine shrugged her shoulders, "In fact, I would find poetic justice in knowing that Charles went out of pocket to raise another man's child. He was such a skinflint, as you know."
Molly nodded, but she neither opened her mouth to confirm or deny Katherine's question. Perhaps, it was too much to expect the woman to confide in her, given that the very roof over her head was at stake. Still, Katherine pressed her a little more.
"Do you think he suspected?" she asked quietly.
"I did," Molly nodded her head, "In fact, I was quite surprised he accepted it so readily."
"You should not have been surprised," Katherine shrugged, "It was a boost for his ego and another stick with which to beat me. Oh well, at least you got something beautiful out of an otherwise awful union. Thank you for your time, Miss Price."
Katherine stood to leave, and Molly followed suit, shadowing her as she made her way from the drawing room to the front door.
"Goodbye," Katherine said, with a stiff nod to the woman who would never be her friend, but was, a comrade of sorts.
With her head held high and her shoulders squared, Katherine made her way back to her carriage, without a backward glance. Her past was behind her now, her future awaited.
Katherine had wanted to set forth for London at once, but Highland had counselled against it. Though the days were long, he could not guarantee that they would reach London before nightfall. It was too dangerous, on account of both potholes and highwaymen, to travel at night.
"We shall stop in one of the villages along the London Road, your Grace," Highland had said, "I can swap the horses, and you can take rooms in an inn for the night."
Katherine had agreed, though anxiety now filled her, at the thought of Michael not knowing her whereabouts for a whole night.
An hour or so later, as the carriage began to slow, Katherine glanced out the window, expecting to see a village. Instead of houses and shops, however, she saw endless fields, and she nervously called out to Highland to ask why they had stopped.
Was it a highwayman? She clutched her belly in fear, as she heard the sound of a rider drawing near. Lud, she thought frantically, it would be just her luck to finally have found peace of mind, only to end up murdered on a country road.
"What is it Highland?" she called again, wondering if perhaps the elderly driver had not heard her.
Determined to meet her fate head-on, Katherine opened the carriage door. She was just about to step down onto the road when she finally sighted what it was that had made Highland stop.
"Michael," she breathed, taking in the sight of her dust-covered husband, "How did you know where to find me?"
"Your man," Michael nodded up to the driver's seat, where Highland sat, studiously avoiding Katherine's gaze, "Left me a very detailed note on your travel plans. He was reluctant to bring you but was afraid that you would take a stage-coach if he did not, and so he sent a note to Elsmore House."
"Oh," Katherine almost laughed; she had thought for one mad moment that she had summoned Michael out of a sheer desire to see him. A note was a far more reasonable explanation.
"You must think me silly," she began to apologise, but Michael spoke at the same time.
"I am sorry I was not more understanding."
They both paused, eyeing each other nervously.
Lud, but when there was so much to say, it could be terribly hard to get any words out at all, Katherine thought.
"May I speak first?" Katherine asked, continuing on at her husband's nod, "I am sorry, Michael, for running off like that, and I am sorry for pushing you away. When I found out that I was with child, I was so nervous that you would be angry with me. It was a foolish thing for me to think, for I know that you could never be so cruel. I have just been so scared, these past few months, to let you in...to trust you. But not any more."
She looked up into his blue eyes and saw love reflected at her. How could she have been afraid to tell him about their child? All the worry and anxiety had been of her own construction. Michael was not Charles; he was not her enemy. He was her hus
band, he was her home.
"I love you," she said, the words falling so easily from her lips that she wondered why it had taken her so long to say them. "With all my heart and soul, I love you. I know that you do not want children, but—"
She quieted, as Michael held up a hand to silence her.
"I feel I need to remedy a misunderstanding," he said, his eyes twinkling, "When I said that I did not want children, I meant that I did not want any which were not half you. I have never wanted anything more than the babe that is growing within you. Please, believe me, Katherine, I want you both."
"Really?" Katherine bit her lip, "But you were so adamant that you did not."
"That's because you were so adamant that you could not marry me because you thought you could not give me any," Michael laughed easily, "Perhaps I was a bit ham-fisted in my approach, but I never expected..."
He waved a hand at her midriff, his eyes soft and tender with love. Katherine felt another rush of affection for him; ham-fisted or not, he had done everything in his power to make her feel worthy of him.
"You are the most wonderful man that any woman could ever hope for," she said shyly.
"I am also the dustiest man, after that journey," Michael answered, taking a few steps toward her, "What's say we make for the next inn, so that I can have a bath and speak with you properly. I shall book you a separate room, if that is what you desire."
"No," Katherine shook her head, "I don't desire that. I never want to spend another night apart from you again."
"Who am I to refuse you your heart's desire?" Michael asked, with a wicked grin, as he took her into his arms, "When it is my desire too. I love you, Katherine."
Her reply was stolen from her lips by his kiss, though Katherine did not mind. She melted into her husband's embrace, allowing herself to feel cherished and loved.
She might have been standing on a country road, in the middle of nowhere, but Katherine had never felt more at home than she did in Michael's strong arms.
Epilogue
The summer sun had just begun to fade, but the children showed no sign of fatigue. Katherine stood on the veranda, watching them play with their governess in the gardens below, reluctant to end their fun.
Little Emilia, who had Katherine's eyes and Michael's high-handed manner, was bossily leading Hugo on an exploration of the fountain. Hugo, for his part, followed her like a love-struck puppy. He had grown tall and strong, despite having entered the world so early, and had every sign of following in his father's footsteps, if his pursuit of Emilia was anything to go by.
"It's in the blood," Deverell had said when Katherine had commented on the young boy's infatuation with her eldest child.
"Perhaps they will grow up and marry each other," Caroline had added dreamily, though the idea of that fairytale ending was quickly quashed when Emilia had thrown a slug at poor Hugo.
Little Philip was seated on a blanket with the governess, watching the goings-on of the elder children, while he stuffed fistfuls of grass into his mouth. He had just turned one and was still bonny and soft, though he was threatening to grow out of that soon.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Michael's voice pulled Katherine from her reverie, as he came to stand beside her by the balustrades. He cast his gaze out towards the gardens, his eyes softening as he watched the children at play.
"I was just thinking on how happy I am," Katherine offered simply, reaching for his hand.
"Who would have thought that we would end up here?" Michael answered, squeezing it in return.
Who, indeed?
Katherine thought back to her days in London when she had believed she was destined to live the life of a lonely widow. It seemed faintly ridiculous now, to think that she had once been satisfied by the idea of such an empty life. It was also so strange to think that she had once convinced herself that she was too broken to love when now she was filled with it.
Her husband, her children, her friends; her cup runneth over with love for them all.
"I cannot believe that we made them together," Michael said, with a nod to the children. It was something he said daily, as though still awed by his role as a father, despite having lived it for some four years.
"I know," Katherine echoed him, "I still think them a miracle."
"Even when Emilia is screaming blue murder in the middle of the night?" Michael teased.
"Always," Katherine smiled, "I still think that I am lucky to have carried them, even though I know now that it was not I who was incapable of producing children."
"Yes, you've proved that twice, by my count," Michael replied with a wolfish smile which made Katherine's knees weak with longing.
"God willing, we shall prove it a third time," Katherine said shyly, taking her husband's hand and placing it upon her belly.
"Really?" Michael's eyes lit up with happiness.
"Really," Katherine replied, and as he took her in his arms and kissed her, she felt that her heart might burst, it was so filled with love.
A Note From the Author
Hello there!
Thank you so much for getting this far; I do hope that you enjoyed Katherine and Michael's tale. Regular readers might note that I have taken on a more serious subject matter than usual, and the reason for that is that I want to give something back.
Romance writing is, by and large, written by women, for women, and writing is one of the few industries in which women can flourish later in life (those who follow me on Facebook know that I turned sixty in August!). In a world where the workplace can shut you out after having children, the business of writing romance novels is a miraculously level playing field. It does not matter if you are old or young, beautiful or not beautiful by the media's standards (I refuse to use the "U" word), a mother or not; as long as you have a story in you, you have a chance.
I have been reflecting lately on how lucky I am to have found a new career, and I wanted to use my voice to give a voice to women who have lost theirs. Love, as we know, is a beautiful thing, but it should never hurt.
Like poor Katherine, many women are trapped in relationships which are physically and emotionally violent. And it is not just women who are trapped, but their children too. Domestic violence affects women of all social backgrounds and has a lasting impact on families.
Unlike during the Regency Era, when there were no supports for women, today they are. It is with pleasure that I tell you that a percentage of the post-tax profits of the first three months* of this book's sales will be donated to the Aoibhneas Women's Refuge in Ireland.
If you would like to see how much we raise together, you can sign up for my newsletter http://eepurl.com/cEueVD, or follow me on Facebook fb.me/ClaudiaStoneAuthor , or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/authorclaudiastone/
Thank you again for reading, together I hope we can make a small difference in the world.
Lots of Love,
Claudia xx
*The first three months are when a book has the most sales and setting a time-limit gives a definite date for the donation, of the 15th January 2020.
Other Works
If you enjoyed A Second Chance With a Duke, you might also like some of Claudia's other works.
Series
Fairfax Twins
The Duke's Bride in Disguise
The Duke's Governess in Disguise
The Importance of Being Eunice
Click on the link below to view on Amazon!
https://geni.us/E0ZxtFK
Reluctant Regency Brides Collection
The Duke of Ruin
The Lord of Heartbreak
The Marquess of Temptation
The Captain of Betrayal
Click the link below to view on Amazon!
http://geni.us/CB6GL
Regency Black Hearts Collection
Proposing to a Duke
The Duke's Brother
A Lady Like No Other
Click the link below to view on Amazon!
http://geni.us/oATZT7W
Standalone Novels
The Duke's Wayward Ward
Click the link below to view on Amazon!
http://geni.us/w9q3q4t
About the Author
About the Author
Claudia Stone was born in South Africa but moved to Plymouth as a young girl. Having trained as an actress at RADA, she moved to New York to pursue her dream of acting on Broadway in 1988. She never did see her name in lights, but she did meet a wonderful Irishman called Conal who whisked her away to the wilds of Kerry, where she has lived ever since.
Claudia and Conal have three children, a dairy farm and a rescue lab called Buddy. When she has any time left over, Claudia enjoys reading Regency as well as writing it.
Fans can write to Claudia at [email protected]
If you would like to hear from Claudia about her new releases, you can sign up for her newsletter by clicking the link below:
http://eepurl.com/cEueVD
Alternatively you can follow Claudia on her Goodreads page:
http://https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16483624.Claudia_Stone
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