I need to get out of here.
Theodore actually looked around the room, contemplating a way to escape when the door to the drawing room opened. The butler led in someone else to the party and when Theodore saw her face, his glass of wine slipped from his hand.
It was as if everything happened in slow motion. He felt the glass slip, but was too sluggish in movement to reach down and grasp it from the air. The red wine spilt across his trousers, rather reminiscent of blood, as the glass smashed into pieces on the floor.
He felt Margaret’s hand close on his arm, trying to pull him back out of harm’s way, though he did not move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who had arrived.
She was first greeted by Cedric’s mother, who kissed her on each cheek and clasped her hand.
They are sisters, are they not? But I did not realize…
Theodore’s sounds and reasoned thoughts shut down. He could scarcely make sense of seeing her there. For so long, Catherine had avoided being seen in public anywhere that he was at risk of also being. It was what she had promised long ago, not out of a wish to avoid causing him pain, but to protect herself.
She’d rather run into burning flames than bump into me by accident.
“Theodore, I swear…” Cedric’s voice was now utterly serious, no sense of mischief or playfulness in it. “I swear, I didn’t invite her.”
There was a footman by Theodore’s feet now, trying to tidy up the broken pieces of glass. A voice in Theodore’s voice told him that he should be bending down to help. Afterall, he was the one who caused the mess, but he couldn’t move.
His body had become stone as he watched the woman walk across the room.
Catherine had now seen him. Without blinking, she walked toward him, those gray eyes not pinned on him but on Maggie beside him.
“Theo?” Maggie whispered in his ear. “Theo, what is wrong? What is happening?”
“Cedric,” Theodore muttered. “You swore never to put us together. You know it’s too much of a risk –”
“On my life, cousin, I did not invite her.” Cedric shook his head fervently. “I would not do that to you.”
Theodore didn’t have the capacity to believe or dispute what he said. All he could do was stare as Catherine walked toward him.
At first, there was horror in her expression. Her eyes looked up and down Maggie, then up and down Theodore, too. Then the horror switched to pure fury, her cheeks reddening.
Cedric’s mother tried to halt Catherine from crossing the distance toward them, but whatever Catherine said to her sister defeated her, for she quickly moved around her and carried on toward Theodore.
“What is happening?” Maggie said rather desperately. One of her hands had closed in on Theodore’s arm as she pulled sharply. “Theo, please. Tell me who that woman is.”
“This is not how I wished this to happen.” The words tumbled out of Theodore in a sharp whisper. “I never wanted you to meet her.”
“Who is she?” Maggie asked again.
Theodore tore his gaze away from Catherine’s gray eyes and looked at his wife. Such sadness welled up inside of him, embarrassment that Maggie was about to see this part of him, that the words struggled to form. Somehow, he managed to force them out of his lips.
“Maggie, that is the Dowager Duchess of Thornfield.” He swallowed, his mouth abruptly dry. Maggie was searching his face desperately, her eyes flitting back and forth. “That… is my mother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
His mother?
Margaret looked sharply between Theodore and the woman who was approaching them.
The Dowager Duchess was striking in appearance. She was tall, though not as tall as Theodore. Her eyes were a steely cold gray, that never once looked away from her son. She was dressed in the finest of clothes, a stole looped loosely across her arms and a glittering necklace sparkling around her neck. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at her son, the same coolness Margaret had already perceived in her character now emanating from her.
“Theo?” Margaret whispered, for his hand had suddenly tightened across her waist. It was possessive, but not forceful, just a subtle action that clearly spoke volumes.
Margaret curtsied to the Dowager Duchess, even though Theo’s hand tightened even more.
It’s as though he’s trying to stop me from curtseying to his mother. Why is that?
