By now, it was clear that the marriage he dreamt of with Cat was not to be. He would never wake beside her, never see her hair in a braid down her back before they went to sleep. He would not be the one to comfort her if she had a nightmare over the fire. He could not even be the one to avenge her and find the arsonist who had not only destroyed her life but any future the two of them might have had.
“Lady Julia took up for her,” he heard a voice say meekly as he passed. “He must be serious about Miss Watson, for Lord Benjamin’s sister to defend her with such vigor.”
“Yes, but who knows what goes through Lady Julia’s head?” He didn’t recognize this voice either, except to say that it was filled with disgust. “I mean, really. Miss Watson, as Lady Julia called her, as she was defending her, has no business being here amongst the rest of us. Does she not realize how she stands out? And for all the wrong reasons, mind you! Does she want pity? How can we even be expected to look at her deformities and wear a smile as if this is a pleasant evening?”
Before he could interrupt the awful conversation, his twin sister was marching up to the group of ladies. They obviously were doing little to hide the volume of their voices. “I’ve already told you to shut up once, and I did so with as much politeness as I could muster. If you won’t listen, then you can leave,” Julia warned.
Benjamin quickly grabbed his sister by the arm. Though he was the angrier of the two of them, she was more hot-headed. The last thing he needed was for his sister to attack one of these awful women, and from the way she vibrated with fury, he knew he was right to hold her back.
“I recommend that you listen to my sister. She’s been known to throw a punch.” Of course, she’d still been in a pinafore the last time she’d done so, after Shep threw mud at her back, but even the idea of a physical fight had the group of woman tittering and dispersing into the crowd. “But know this. If I hear you speak another ill word against Miss Watson, you will never be welcomed here again, nor anywhere that I go.”
Julia’s eyes were on fire when she turned to Benjamin. “How could you let them speak of her that way?”
“I was about to ask them to leave quietly before you marched up. I did not wish to cause a scene.” After they left, his anger at them left him as well. He deflated, like a dog who had been kicked. “They’re disgusting and wrong, but Catherine… Miss Watson, I should say now… She doesn’t want me.”
“You’re an idiot!” Julia whispered fiercely. “She heard them talking about her. And it was much worse than what you just heard!”
“And that’s horrible, and I hate them for that,” Benjamin replied with just as much passion. “But in the end, I wish she cared more about the way I spoke of her than the way some others who are jealous may speak of her.”
“I do not claim to know her well,” Julia told him tightly. “But they did not speak well of you either. It was because of your association with Miss Watson. I would think that for a woman like her… the woman she appears to be… it would matter to her how others spoke of you. Such a thing could affect her decision. She might even believe she is protecting you.”
“I have told her time and time again that it does not matter to me what people say,” Ben insisted.
“Oh, Ben,” Julia sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s so easy for you.”
“Jules,” he warned. “The woman I love—I mean to say, Miss Watson—just rejected my proposal. It is far from easy.”
“No, I only mean that you’ve never really had to struggle. I bet you cannot recall a single time when you did not feel as if you belonged. When we were born, you were raised like a little prince. And then you went off to school where you and Duke Sermont led the crowd socially and academically. Your life has been a series of good fortune,” she advised him gently. Her heart broke for him, but she felt it was important he heed her words.
“I admit you are right. And I know you’ve watched me and seen all the privileges in my life. But there is some pressure, too.” His voice strangled over his next words. “I love her. And she will not have me.”
“Oh, Ben.” Julia’s whole face softened because she knew exactly how it felt to love someone who would not have her. “I know. I am truly sorry. It will be better soon.”
“Really?” he asked hopefully.
Julia squeezed his hand. She could not lie to him. “No.”
At home, Catherine brushed out her hair quickly, brutally untangling any knots despite the pain. Jane, who had stayed up past her bedtime, tiptoed up behind her in her shift, her hair already plaited. “Was it wonderful?” Jane asked dreamily. In her head, she had pictured Benjamin and Catherine dancing the night away together. They would settle everything between them. She had spent the night thinking of what Cat’s wedding dress would look like.
But now she saw that there were tear tracks down Catherine’s face as her sister sat at her vanity. Her sister didn’t cry, at least not before Lord Benjamin entered her life. Jane could not recall a single instance, not even when Mama died. If she did so, it was always in private. Now, she held Jane while she wept and stroked her hair and rocked her as if she was a child rather than a young woman. But she did not weep for herself, not that anyone could see. If Jane believed that Lord Benjamin had done her sister some awful wrong, she would have leapt up in fury. Her father and sister would have probably had to chase her down the lane. But she could see it wasn’t that at all. Jane’s wisdom, which was beyond her years, saw that this pain came from a much deeper place.
Cat had made herself numb for so long. Then she had opened her heart. “Oh, Cat,” Jane crooned.
“We can never be together. That was made clear to me tonight,” Catherine told her sister. “He deserves someone who is whole.”
Jane took the hair brush from her sister and began to take over the job, albeit much more gently. “You know I cannot agree that you are somehow wanting, for you are the best sister in the world, and any man would be blessed to have you for a wife.”
“Well, it does not matter either way,” Catherine whispered. “I told him I cannot marry him, whatever my feelings for him. I cannot contribute to the ruin of his reputation. I cannot bear the thought that I would reflect poorly on him.”
“Cat,” Jane whispered beseechingly. She wanted to weep herself, but if Cat could be strong, so could Jane. She hated that Cat believed her scars to be so awful. More than that, she hated that the only reason Cat had those scars in the first place was because she had taken the time to try and save Jane when she should have escaped herself.
“I do not wish to speak of it anymore.” Cat reached back to begin to braid her blond hair for bed. Tears fell heedlessly down her face. With her own hands entrapped in her hair, unable to wipe them away, her younger sister did it for her. “I love you, Jane. You are a treasure.”
Jane knew when to push and when to surrender. There was nothing left to say tonight. “And I love you.”
* * *
14
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* * *
… and it felt as if darkness was all around him.
* * *
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Reaching Out
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Pritchford, Yorkshire
1820
Three Months Later
Catherine filled her days with reading, needlework, and gardening for pleasure. She took long walks but only when she was certain her thoughts wouldn’t drift in the direction of a certain someone. She continued to oversee Jane’s education, since there was no money for a governess. Jane’s pianoforte skills far surpassed Cat’s, but her needlepoint still left something to be desired. The girl continued to be a great comfort to her, though Cat was preparing her for the time, in a few years, when Jane would be out in society. Jane would marry a good man, a kind man. And Catherine would have Mr. Watson to take care of. She had always believed that was her place, and it had never bothered her. In
fact, this was a role she had taken upon herself. No one had enforced it.
But at night, in the twilight between sleep and waking, she could not stop remembering what it felt like for Benjamin’s fingertips to brush her scars. She couldn’t remember anyone touching them with such tenderness before. She remembered his passionate voice declaring his love for her and that he wanted to marry her. She remembered the feel of his embrace. But then she would turn over, trying to find a cool spot on her pillow, trying to put it out of her mind, trying to forget it all, somehow knowing that was impossible.
Still, when her father informed her that the Earl of Wembley had died, it stunned her. Most people had known that the elder Lord Wembley had been ill, but not that it was so serious or that he would die so quickly. Benjamin never said a word to Catherine about it. She couldn’t help but remember the condolences he had offered after her mother died. But what could she offer him?
She knew she had hurt him. After all, he had asked to court her twice and marry him once, and each time she had said no while still encouraging him, whether she meant to or not. Except for this last time, when she promised herself that she would avoid him at all costs, she had promised herself she would offer no more hope. He would find a woman more suited to his life.
But she knew what it meant to lose a parent, and her heart still belonged to him.
“Poor Lord Benjamin and Lady Julia,” Jane murmured. “And their mother, too.”
Catherine blinked as if a spell was lifted. “He is no longer Lord Benjamin, Jane. He’s Lord Wembley, the Earl of Wembley.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever we call him, I feel sorry for him. Don’t you?”
Catherine folded her hands in her lap. “Of course. I… I’m sorry. I don’t feel well. May I be excused?” She couldn’t continue to talk about him when there was nothing she could do to help him. Her chest ached.
So, this was what love felt like.
A few days later, Carlisle, the butler at Pritchford, offered Benjamin an envelope.
Dear Lord Wembley,
I debated over whether I should write this letter. In the end, I understand if you decide not to read it. Nonetheless, I would like to express my deepest sympathies over the loss of your father.
I will never forget him. Not many men in his position would have made it a priority to visit a family who lost their home in a fire, but he did. I will never forget what he did for my family during that time and in the days after. Throughout the years, he always made the effort to check on us, truly befriending my father. He always made it a point to bring me some little treat, and he never made me feel less than. His behavior was unique compared to others and says a great deal about what kind of man he was.
You are his legacy now, and I know he would be very proud of the man that you are.
Losing my mother was one of the most difficult times in my life. Knowing that, I had to at least attempt to offer some type of comfort, just as you offered me some when she died. Perhaps comfort from me is unwanted, but I must offer it.
Please know your family is in my prayers. So are you. So will you always be.
Yours Sincerely,
Miss Catherine Watson
Benjamin threw the letter on the table. He was too exhausted, too heartbroken from losing his father to think of Catherine. Julia snatched it up off the table as she finished her breakfast. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied and meant it. At least, he told himself he meant it. She could mean nothing to him anymore. His father was gone, and Catherine would not have him, and it felt as if darkness was all around him.
As Julia skimmed the words, tearing up slightly at the mention of her father’s character, she pursed her lips. “I don’t know what it is exactly, Ben. But it’s definitely not nothing.”
* * *
15
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* * *
“Will you let that fire continue to eat
away at your life, even now?”
* * *
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
An Invitation and a Question
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Dear Miss Watson,
Dear Miss Watson,
I am writing on behalf of the rest of my family to invite you to our home for an informal luncheon next Tuesday. It will be a small gathering to remember my father with our closest family and friends. Please extend the invitation to your father and sister.
I look forward to seeing you next week.
Yours Sincerely,
Lady Julia
Catherine reread the short piece of mail and then reread it again. What did it mean that Lady Julia was writing to her? And what did it mean that she was including her family in a small gathering with only their closest friends? She’d never even met the countess, or as she was now known since her husband’s death, the dowager countess. Benjamin was the earl now, and the woman he married would be the countess. Whenever Cat allowed herself to picture this imaginary woman, she was a bit hazy, but a few things always remained the same. She laughed a lot, just as often as Benjamin did. She was beautiful and strong with alabaster skin. She never quite made it past that part to imagine her face.
Cat told herself all kinds of lies, especially at night. She told herself it would stop hurting. She told herself she would forget his smile and dimples, that she would cease to remember his thumb caressing her hand. Sometimes, if she tossed and turned for most of the night, she whispered the word they’d shared when they were younger, “Liar.” It always made her want to cry, though.
Somehow, though, she found herself in the carriage with her father and her sister. She found the butler opening the door to them as if he expected them, as if it wasn’t a cruel joke. They were announced by that same butler and then personally introduced to Duke Sermont, who “was Benjamin’s oldest friend” Julia relayed while rolling her eyes. The duchess was upstairs resting. They were also introduced to Lady Amelia Pearson, Lady Abigail Pearson, and Lady Annabelle Pearson, friends of Lady Julia’s, and also incidentally girls of marrying age who were beautiful with unmarked skin. It would be perfect if Benjamin married one of his sister’s beautiful friends, Cat thought, before scowling. She forced her face to relax. These were friends of the Frederickson family, and they deserved respect. Besides, didn’t she want Benjamin to marry and be happy?
When Benjamin finally did make an appearance, he gave his friend, the duke, a hearty slap on the back, but Cat was shocked at his appearance. The glow of youth and vigor that seemed to emanate from his skin was gone. He looked years older with dark circles under his eyes. He was still a force to be reckoned with; he was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen in person. But it wasn’t difficult to discern that he was exhausted and grieving the loss of his father.
Her instincts shocked her. She wanted to go to him, to touch her fingers to the dark shadows beneath his eyes, to place a wet cloth on his forehead and beg him to sit down, to lean on her. The urge was so strong she had to clasp her hands together. It wasn’t her place to do such a thing.
But it could have been your place, a voice inside of her replied. And maybe for the first time, she realized she had something to offer him, that she’d always had something to offer him—peace, a sense of comfort, and knowledge that he was loved no matter what.
It was a stunning revelation, because all this time she had seen what she couldn’t give him: very little money with a small dowry and not even beauty with her injuries. He could offer her the world, and she had nothing. For the first time, she considered that perhaps she had the very things he wanted, the things he’d needed the whole time, and that he really had loved her.
She ducked her head and tried to swallow back her tears. Lady Julia, who pretended to be something like an indolent cat on the divan, was actually quite perceptive and asked if Miss Watson would take a turn around the terrace with her. Catherine stood blindly and followed Lad
y Julia, never noticing Benjamin’s sad eyes watching her.
“You looked as if you needed some air,” Julia told her when they were far enough away from the group.
With a bowed head, Catherine replied, “I apologize. I am here to support your family during this difficult time.”
Julia walked at a slow pace. “I miss him,” she admitted. “Ben said you lost your mother some time ago. When does it stop hurting?”
“I’ll let you know when that happens,” Catherine admitted. In all honesty, she didn’t truly understand Julia. She didn’t understand why Julia had taken up for her against those awful women at the ball. She didn’t understand why Julia wrote the invitation for today. Finally, she didn’t know why Julia had come to her rescue today.
“Everyone reacts differently, I think.” Julia shrugged her shoulders. “It’s hardest on Ben. The measuring stick he compared himself to his whole life is gone, and I think he’s a bit aimless with all these responsibilities weighing on him.”
Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke) Page 11
