by Skyler Grey
Turning to the Lady Abigail, Richard narrowed his eyes. “Your presence is no longer needed, Madam. You may leave us, as this is between family.”
Abigail’s face turned almost purple in humiliation as she jumped to her feet, snatching her skirts in a rush of anger, and then headed toward the door.
Richard growled sternly, “Close the door behind you; I’ve neither care nor tolerance for eavesdroppers.”
Richard took a deep breath before he began, looking sorrowfully at his only child. “Catherine, I could not take care of myself, much less a daughter. I did what I thought best for you at the time. I know it was terrible of me to have disappeared but I was in such a state of depression, I no longer cared if I lived or died. Selfish I know, but that was how I felt. Please believe that I never stopped thinking of you. But as time passed, it became harder for me to come back. Not only from shame, but I was too weak to be the father you deserved. Can you forgive me?”
Catherine looked at him for a long moment before answering. “When you sent me away, at first I thought it was temporary, a vacation so to speak. But as time went by, I realized you might never come back. I admit I became angry, bitter. It has been very hard for me, alone among a family that did not want me, making me believe that my own father had felt the same way. You have to understand, even if I forgive you, our relationship will take time, for we will need to get to know each other again.”
Richard nodded in understanding as he gave her a grateful smile. “I’ve all the time in the world, Catherine. As long as I know you may forgive me.”
Catherine, Eric, and Richard sat for hours sharing one story for another. At times she would find herself laughing at her father’s stories until her sides hurt, and then tearing up when he shared his heartache at the death of her mother. But it was the decision to send her away that wore heaviest on his heart.
As the evening wore on, Catherine felt the nagging uneasiness of the one question she’d put off till now. Straightening her shoulders, she gave first Eric, then Richard a hesitant look. “This is a very difficult question for me to ask, but I must know … are you my real father?”
He winced, but without hesitation answered, “Yes.”
Catherine felt the rush of air release from her lungs. Had her aunt lied once again? She said that her mother had been pregnant with her before she had married. She had to know for sure. Even at the risk of hurting the only father she knew.
“Please understand.” she said softly. “It’s not because I want to hurt you, but if I were to never ask you for another thing, I would only ask that you be honest.”
Richard hung his head, his shoulders dropping. Sighing deeply, he took a long moment before answering.
“I am sorry, Catherine. If learning that I am your true father is not enough, there is nothing more I can do. I’m saddened that this is not the answer you’re seeking.”
A voice from behind startled them all.
“I know the truth, Catherine.”
Catherine jumped in her seat as she turned, seeing Devan in the doorway. “Devan, when did you return?” she asked surprised.
Devan stood before Eric, bowing slightly, then turned to her father and nodded. Kneeling next to Catherine, Devan took her hand. “Cousin, the news I have is not about your father, for Lord Richard is truly your father. Mother has lied yet again. I forced her to tell me everything. Then I searched for myself to ensure the facts.”
Richard jumped to his feet. “Your mother has done nothing but spread her poison, and I will no longer allow my daughter to be hurt by her! Come Catherine, let us leave this place and go home.”
Catherine looked from one face to another, confusion filling her until Eric stood. “Gentlemen, please.” Turning to Catherine, his face softened. “Catherine, Lord Townsend loves you and is your real father. Is that not enough?”
Her father’s face filled with hope, his eyes fixed on Catherine as he waited for her response.
Devan stood as he respectfully acknowledged Eric’s question.
She looked at each of them, her eyes coming to rest on only one face. Lord Townsend. Slowly she smiled. “You’re right. I have my father back. What more do I need to know?”
Richard’s face filled with relief as he rushed to his daughter’s side, embracing her in a crushing hug.
Stepping back, he grabbed Eric’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Thank you, for all you’ve done. If not for you and your father, I might not have found the courage to return home.”
Devan looked at Catherine, winking. “Cat, know I’m always here should you ever need me.” Kissing her quickly on the cheek, he bowed to the men and left.
Richard held his arm out to her. “My Dear, shall we go home?”
She looked at him in surprise? “Where is home? I thought we lost our home years ago.”
Her father nodded as he led her from the room. “Yes, I was a foolish man. But since, I’ve regained my fortune and purchased us a new home.”
Catherine smiled. “New home makes for new memories.” Then she hesitated. “But what of my things, my clothes?”
Again, Richard chuckled. “Taken care of; I’ve already made arrangements for your personal items to be packed and sent over immediately.”
Catherine didn’t know what to say. Then suddenly, she didn’t care. So what if she didn’t know where they were going. Her father had returned for her and they were finally going home.
Chapter Eight
Over the next few months, Catherine could not have been happier. She savored every moment she spent with her father and together they mended the lost years between them.
She laughed thinking back to when they pulled up to their new home that first day. She almost cried when she went into her bedchamber to find it identical to her old room where she had lived with both parents so long ago. Her father had even saved some of her personal toys as a child, setting them in the corner of the bay window that overlooked a private garden he had put in especially for her.
He even planted the flowers her mother cherished, and it brought tears to her eyes when she walked among them. Even though their garden was not as magnificent as her aunt’s, she felt hers was far more special.
Eric spent hours with her walking along its path, both of them sharing their dreams.
Lavinia and Miranda dropped by regularly, and all four visited the Duke often. She had grown close to her new circle of friends, feeling for the first time she finally belonged.
It had been nearly seven months since the Lady Montgomery’s soiree’ and her encounter with the sisters. So when she received an invitation to tea, she was shocked to find it signed Hilary Montgomery.
Her first instinct was to toss it in the fire. But curiosity got the best of her and she accepted her request.
As her carriage drew near their home, the memory of her first encounter with Eric came rushing back, causing her face to flush.
Upon entering the home, she was greeted by a servant who kindly showed her to the parlor where she was to wait. After seating herself, Catherine became edgy, her instinct warning her to be on guard.
Within a short time, Florence entered the room, a huge smile across her face. “Catherine, how wonderful to see you. Hilary is so pleased you agreed to come. She’ll be along shortly.” Then looking over her shoulder she rolled her eyes, releasing a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know where our tea is. You know how boringly redundant it can be repeating yourself to halfwits? I mean, where does one go these days to find good help?” Clucking her tongue as if truly irritated, she swept across the room and sat herself beside Catherine, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
Catherine slid her a suspicious look. “Tell me, Florence. Just what are you and your sweet sister up to now?”
Florence gasped as if offended. “Why, Catherine, it’s been nearly seven months since we’ve last seen or heard from you, and we were worried is all.” Then nervously she stood pacing the room and glancing periodically at the doorway before continuing. “It�
�s that, every since that night, we’ve not heard a thing from you or Devan for that matter. Why, he never even bothered to drop by while he was in town to say hello, and I for one don’t mind saying how upset I am over it.”
“Oooh, I see. So you brought me here to get the scoop? It’s been killing you and Hilary to not know what is going on, hasn’t it?” Catherine stood, her face relaxed, now knowing for sure the true reason of their invitation. “I’m sorry, Florence, but you and your sister will have to get your gossip some other way.”
As she turned to leave, she frowned upon seeing Hilary standing in the doorway, a smug smile on her face. “My, my but the little mouse has grown teeth, all these years of growing up together, only to find out that you do have some backbone after all is surprising.”
Entering the room, she nodded to Florence and the two smiled at one another. Catherine turned to leave, but froze when she heard the ice in Hilary’s voice.
“I don’t think you want to leave just yet, Lady Catherine. Not before you hear what we have to say.”
Catherine glared at Hilary, her eyes narrowed in warning. “I would be careful with that loose tongue of yours, Hilary. For I too, have something to say. If need be!”
Hilary’s jaw dropped for only a second before snapping shut. “Oh, sweet little Catherine, put your claws away. I do hope you're not referring to some silly little incident pertaining to a broken vase during mother’s soiree?” Hilary leaned forward, her eyes glittering wickedly.
Catherine allowed a smile to slip across her face.
Florence stepped back, surprised at Catherine’s lack of concern.
Hilary slipped up to her sister, a confident grin across her face. “We heard about your engagement to Prince Eric, how…grand for you. But what’s really interesting is how you both met.”
Catherine felt her body tense.
Florence piped in, a pleased look on her face as she joined her sister’s taunting. “Funny thing, Catherine, there’s a bit of confusion as to just exactly what happened that night. Would you care to share with us, I mean, so we can be sure as to correct any misunderstanding should a rumor arise?”
Hilary leaned forward, a smirk on her face. “It’s either that, or you can join us, Catherine, and there need be no cause for ugly gossip because you’ll be one of us, which you really should be, since you’ll be true nobility once you’re married. It’s a rather simple choice I think; us or the vicious gossip that tends to follow those less fortunate.”
Catherine felt her temper ignite within seconds. Pulling herself to her full height, she squared her shoulders and stared down both girls until they began to fidget.
With a wry grin, she approached them. “I can’t even imagine why on earth either one of you would think that I’d ever consider wanting to associate with you, much less join you? Regardless of your pathetic attempt at blackmail.”
Catherine eyed them coyly. “But curiosity has got the best of me; do tell what exactly it is you know, for I can tell by your faces that you’ve a dirty little secret just itching to get out.”
Hilary raised a brow as she sidestepped around Catherine, her composure almost believable if Catherine had not noticed the trembling of her hands before she tucked them into the folds of her skirt.
“If you must know, Catherine, there have been whispers of an unfortunate accident the evening of mother’s soiree, concerning an unexplained broken vase and you winding up at the Prince’s home due to an injury.”
Florence quickly chimed in. “And, the fact that here you are engaged to a man that every girl in London has been swooning over, a man who is a known rogue with the ladies and practically a confirmed bachelor. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Catherine grinned, folding her arms and looking at them with contempt.
Hilary snapped and her composure shattered as she sneered, “We know who was in the study, Catherine. We know who was being rutted on our dear mother’s imported rug. And soon shall everyone else! You think by marrying the Prince, your reputation is cleansed, that you are no longer an outcast? Well, think again. All this marriage will do is stir a fresh pot of gossip, causing people to ask why a Prince of such nobility would bother with a nobody like you? Your only hope for fitting in is to join our circle, Catherine. Only then will you truly be accepted among the Ton and not pitied by those who look down their noses at you.”
Catherine laughed, causing both sisters to look at each other.
“You think so?” she asked, uncaring. “Because I seriously doubt it; the pity shall not go to me you pea-brained simpletons, but to your own mother for it is she who will be looked down upon for raising two of London’s biggest whores. You think the rumors that have spread throughout the Ton have never whispered your names? There have been many rumors; one favorite is of two tarts that are known for their easy sampling. For instance, Florence, does the name Rodney Crain ring a bell? Or Hilary, here’s a good one; Albert Ashbury? I think we know exactly who was being rutted on your mother’s precious rug on the evening in question, and I am ever so sure those lovely do-gooders you rub elbows with would drool to get their hands on that bit of juicy information. Fresh gossip; isn’t that what the Ton thrives on?”
The girls shrieked, their faces stricken in horror as they glared open-mouthed at her.
“How dare you accuse me? You’re bluffing!” Hilary hissed between clenched teeth.
Catherine’s eyes were cold as she glared at both sisters. “Do not play naïve with me, Hilary; it doesn’t fit you. Eric told me everything that happened that night. How Albert had enlisted his aid in finding the intruder that interrupted his little love tryst while his wife wandered about looking for her lost husband. And how desperate he was to keep your little affair a secret because he knew he could not afford to let his precious little wife learn of his betrayal. To think, the Lady Ashbury considers you one of her dearest friends. Hmmm, I wonder just how dearly she’d think of you if she were to learn you’ve been rutting her husband like a dog in heat. Her family is powerful; her father is a Baron, if I’m not mistaken. Forgive me for not paying closer attention to titles. But in truth, I’ve never taken interest enough to care.” Then with a grin, she added, “But I’m sure your family will care, won’t they?”
Catherine crossed the room to the door and turned, her brows narrowing dangerously. “I never want to hear my name mentioned again by either of you, lest the entire Ton learns all I know, which would be very unfortunate for the two of you. Is that clear?”
The sisters stood glaring, but each nodded reluctantly.
Catherine grunted in satisfaction as she turned and left the Montgomery home, a genuine smile on her face.
Chapter Nine
The following morning, Catherine received a note requesting her company and that of her father in Princess Lavinia’s home immediately.
Upon entering the parlor, they were met with the Duke and a very sour-looking Abigail, along with a strange little man who sat quietly next to Lavinia. Catherine’s eyes fluttered from one to the other in confusion before resting on the princess.
“Ahhh, my dear, you’re both here. Now we can begin.” Lavinia stood as she offered them two empty chairs next to the Duke.
Almost dropping into her seat, Catherine cupped her hands in her lap, grasping them firmly together while her father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, sitting next to her.
The princess settled back into her seat behind a huge mahogany desk, carved with intricate weavings and fine detail. The quiet in the room caused Catherine’s heart to pound as she waited, unsure what was to come.
“I trust you know or at least suspect why I’ve called you here this evening?” Lavinia looked at each and every one of them with a watchful eye, noting every expression with a masked face.
The Duke was the first to speak. His voice was deep and troubled. “Actually, Princess, I’m not exactly sure as to why I’m here. Perhaps you can enlighten me?”
The Princess smiled, her eyes warming as
they always did when speaking to the Duke. “I think, my dear friend, the Lady Abigail would be better at explaining that than I.”
All turned to Catherine’s aunt. Her face flushed crimson. She coughed as she tried to clear her throat, her voice a grating pitch, causing everyone to cringe.
It was Catherine’s father who raised his hand for silence, squeezing his eyes shut until Abigail was silenced.
“I think, Princess, if you don’t mind, I would like to enlighten the Duke myself.”
Lavinia nodded thankfully. “Please.”
Turning to the Duke, Lord Townsend began. “It seems that while Catherine’s been under the care of my dear departed wife’s sister the Lady Abigail, there have been a series of continuous rumors running amuck. Ones that have caused much undue stress to my daughter. I hold myself completely at fault for all her unhappiness. Believe me, had I known the terrible conditions my daughter had to endure while under my sister-in-law’s care, I would have returned much sooner than I did.”
Abigail began to sputter in heated protest at Richard’s harsh description of the care of his daughter.
The Princess rang out in a loud and commanding voice, “Silence, Abigail Armstrong. This has been a long time coming, as well you know.”
Abigail bit back her remark, twisting her hands nervously in her lap.
“Lord Richard, please continue.”
Clearing his throat, he again turned back to the Duke and Catherine. “It seems that your dear aunt has been spreading rumors about your mother and grandmother, Lady Christine and Lady Cynthia. Rumors that are not only vicious lies, but appallingly defamatory to both their characters.” Glaring at Abigail, Richard clenched his jaws.
“Your Grace, I am unhappy also that these rumors involve your good name as well.”
The Duke stiffened as he turned to look sternly at Catherine’s aunt. “Do tell, dear Lady, what rumors does the Lord Townsend speak of?”