Page 34 of Truly, Madly, Daring

“You’re welcome?” she replied uncertainly.

He laughed and sat back. “I’m honoured, pet. You’ve no idea how much, but though I deeply regret it, we’d best get cleaned up. We’ll need to be on our way. That is… if you’re feeling well enough?”

Emmeline could not help the laugh that escaped her. “Oh, I feel very well, my lord,” she said, rather glad he could not see how much she was smirking. “Very well indeed.”

Chapter 10

Dearest Pip,

How I wish you were here today. I need your steady presence, your kindness, and even your scolding would be welcome. That must show you what a sorry state I am in. I don’t know why it is you are keeping away, but if it is because you fear you have let mama and papa down, please know that I understand.

You will hear soon enough what a monumental fix I have got myself into, and there’s no one to blame but myself. Please don’t get on your high horse and come back hell bent on vengeance, for you must take your frustration out on me. By the time you read this, I shall be the Marchioness of Kilbane.

I can almost hear your shout of horror, but it truly was not his fault. Even Papa has accepted that much. I pursued him and… well, never mind the details, suffice to say we were seen in an innocent but outwardly compromising position. So our fates are sealed.

If you want the truth, I am not entirely displeased, for I have had every intention of marrying Kilbane, though I did not expect it so quickly or in such a manner. What I cannot bear is the heartbreak in Papa’s eyes, the sorrow in Mama’s. I wish you would come back so at least they might have something to take their minds from their wayward daughter.

I miss you.

―Excerpt of a letter from Lady Catherine ‘Cat’ Barrington to her older brother The Right Hon’ble Philip Barrington, Earl of Ashburton. (Children of The Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Barrington, Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu).

16th of February 1845, Holbrook House.

Cat glanced at the dark, glowering figure beside her and shivered. Kilbane had never seemed more aloof, or less approachable and yet here they stood, side by side as Harry Martin pronounced them man and wife. Only the vicar looked more unhappy about it than her husband. Behind them, she could hear the soft sound of weeping. Either her mother, or Aggie, or Alana, or all three of them. She sighed inwardly, guilt sitting heavy in her chest, because the truth of the matter was—if not for the pain she’d inflicted—she wasn’t sorry.

Feeling rather as though she was living in a peculiar dream, Cat signed the register and suddenly it was done.

“Right. That’s that,” Kilbane said to her, for all the world as if he’d just settled a debt, which was exactly how he was viewing it as far as she could tell. “I’ll have my man of business contact you. He’ll give you access to funds, addresses to the properties, et cetera. All being well, we need not see each other again.”

Cat’s cheeks flamed as she realised he wasn’t even going to stay to make a show of their wedding night. Everyone would know that their marriage was a sham.

“Might I have a word with Lord Kilbane in private?” she managed, though her voice sounded shaky and most unlike herself.

Her parents glanced at each other, and everyone shifted uneasily but no one actually spoke.

“You’ve got the title you coveted, you’ve got funds enough to live like an empress if you so desire. As a married lady, the world will open its doors to you. There’s nothing to say,” Kilbane replied, his voice brooking no argument, but then he did not know his wife very well yet.

“Nonetheless. If I am to be abandoned so summarily, I demand five minutes of your time. Might you spare me that much?” she asked crisply, drawing deep on reserves she well knew she was going to need in the years to come.

Clearly irritated, Kilbane made a sharp motion, which appeared to be a concession.

“If you would all leave us, please,” Cat said turning to face the small assembly that included her parents, her brother Thomas—white-faced with impotent rage—Lord and Lady St Clair, Aggie, and Alana, and of course the Reverend Martin.

“Cat,” her father began, but she took his hands before he could say whatever it was he wished.

“It’s all right, Papa. You heard Lord Kilbane. He is leaving at once, but I must say my piece. I know this entire debacle is my own fault, but I have that right.”

Her father swallowed down the words he dearly wanted to speak and leaned in, kissing her forehead.

“We’ll be just outside,” he told her, his silver eyes settling on his new son-in-law. His expression made Cat shiver and wonder for the first time how many of the less complimentary stories about her Papa and his ruthless nature might be true.

Once everyone was gone, Cat turned back to face her husband. His expression was not encouraging, those strange violet eyes flat and cold, that beautiful, dissolute mouth set in a hard line.

“Well?” he demanded, folding his arms.

“Might you at least stay the night?” she asked tentatively. “N-Not with me, but… at least so people might think—”

“They already think,” he replied, sneering. “That’s why we are in this bloody mess.”