Married to the Marquess (35 page)

“Here we are,” Lydia said with a sigh, stepping out into the garden.

Kate opened her eyes, though tears had begun to form, and tried to appear as relieved as Lydia seemed to be.

But Lydia was far too intuitive, much like her daughter. She looped her arm through Kate’s and pulled her close to her side. “Do not let it trouble you so much, Katherine. Ashcombe and Derek have only a few things in common; loyalty to family, knowledge of duty, and temper. Beyond that, they are as different as night and day. This will all blow over soon enough, though it is rather ugly now.”

Slowly the two women meandered around the garden, arms linked, though the formal tension was prevalent. Kate felt uneasy about what was occurring within the house, despite the duchess’s assurance, and glanced back in apprehension.     

“I used to be like you, Katherine,” Lydia said rather abruptly. “So young and driven and in love with the idea of being the wife of a powerful and handsome man.”

Kate stiffened and chanced a look at the older woman. “That is not why I love Derek.”

“I can see that, and I credit you for it. But not all of us are so fortunate.” A strange, sad light filled her eyes and Kate found herself suddenly captivated by this woman, whom she knew so very little about. “Ashcombe and I were thrown together by our parents, rather like the two of you were. I never minded, for I never expected to love anybody at all. I am not the romantic sort. I am very practical minded, and it has served me well. But the prospect of being powerful and respected, even as nothing more than a wife, was very alluring. Then I saw Ashcombe, and I was all the more pleased, for attractive people are always well-favored in Society.” She tried for a smile, but it faltered. “I soon learned that my husband, though a good man, was blinded by ambition. Nothing else mattered to him but the reputation and respect of the family. I learned that the only way to have a voice was to echo his, and I learned to love this family, this heritage as my own.”

Kate was stunned by what Lydia was sharing with her and highly doubted even Derek knew these things about his mother.

“My one regret, Katherine, is that I did not use my own voice,” Lydia continued softly, sounding suddenly very weary. “So many times, I merely stood silently by and let him speak for us both. He listens to my counsel now, but very rarely does he accept it. My children could have used a mother who defended them, not one who let others determine their upbringing. I so wish I would have stood up to him once or twice. Now it is far too late to do so.”

Wondering how to respond to the sudden emotion, Kate set her free hand on the other woman’s arm, and it was quickly covered.

Lydia sniffed a little and offered her a polite smile. “I am so pleased you and Derek are more united now. He could use a good, strong woman at his side.”

“I pray I can be both,” Kate murmured.

“You already are,” Lydia assured her. “We would not have chosen you for him otherwise.”

Just then, Derek came storming out of the back of the house, looking murderous and glowering more fiercely than Kate had ever seen him do. And she had been on the receiving end of quite a few of his glowers.

“We are leaving, Kate,” he barked, taking her hand. He nodded to Lydia, but said only, “Mother.”

“Derek,” Lydia replied softly, looking between her son and the house with worry.

Kate could say nothing before Derek was hauling her along behind him, taking them around the house rather than walking through it.

“Derek, what happened?” she gasped, struggling to keep up.

He shook his head, but his grip on her hand tightened.

Their carriage was already waiting for them in front of the house. Wooster must have truly been a wonder of a butler if he could anticipate Derek’s storming out of the duke’s home. Kate climbed in without much assistance, and Derek was quick to follow, sitting next to her, having still not relinquished his rather crushing hold on her hand.

When they had departed, she looked over at him again. His jaw was so tense she could see a muscle in it ticking. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, and he barely blinked.

“Derek,” she murmured softly.

Again, he shook his head, though the movement was very slight, and if possible, his jaw grew even tighter. Any tighter, she thought, and his teeth were likely to crack against each other. But he refused to even look at her, and so she dared not push him. She was simply relieved he was holding onto her so tightly, rather than pushing her away.

They were silent the rest of the journey home, and only when they were back in the house, and ensconced in the music room, of all places, did Derek finally release her hand. She resisted the urge to rub it, feeling that might be the only way to bring back sensation into her fingers. But it was hardly appropriate at the moment.

“Derek, what happened?” she asked softly, watching as he paced before her in agitation.

He said nothing, and only rubbed his hands over his face.

Worry and a bit of panic rising within her, she took a few steps closer. “Derek, tell me what is wrong right now!” she cried. “What did your father say?”

He laughed a short, bitter laugh and finally looked over at her. “What did my father say?” he echoed, a fire starting in his eyes that frightened her. “I will tell you what my father said. He said that I was shaming the family.”

“What?” she gasped, feeling her knees give a bit. How could anyone ever think that of Derek?

“Quite,” he confirmed, nodding. “I am shaming the family, because I have not bedded my wife, which, apparently, is something that is my father’s business.”

Kate flushed ever so slightly at his bluntness, but she said nothing.

“I am failing in my duties as a future duke,” Derek continued pacing again, “because I refused to let my father control my procreation. I thought that helping him with David would be enough to please him, but no. No, it doesn’t matter that David is off in Scotland wrangling up sheep thieves for the dukedom, which I encouraged. No, now it is my turn to receive the sharp end of the iron hot prod my father so keenly wields. I am a failure as a member of the aristocracy because my haste to produce an heir is matched by my haste for a coffin.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sorry?” he cried, whirling away. “She’s sorry!” He threw his hands up and turned back. “Do you even realize what this means, Kate?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he went on, overriding her.

“I have disappointed my father. I, who have always done everything that he wanted, have failed him. I am the future Duke of Ashcombe; everything that he has and everything that he is lies in my future. A failed marquess is in line to inherit the dukedom. He has
never
raged at me like that before, Kate, not for something that I have done. Do you realize that he could cut me off for this? That he could will everything over to David, purely out of spite?”

“He wouldn’t,” she breathed in horror.

“Oh, I can assure you, he threatened to.” Derek laughed again, though it was forced and sounded rather crazed. “He threatened to turn my inheritance over to
David
! He cannot even bear to look at David, and he threatened to make him the next duke! Have you any idea what that would do to me? I would be left with nothing, Kate. Not a damn thing and no family to speak of. All of this because I have not done my
duty
in securing future bloodlines. Do you want to know what his suggestion was, Kate?”

Again she tried to respond, but he didn’t wait.

“He said, ‘Take your wife and force her to do her duty to us, however you must.’” He ran a shaking hand through his hair, and shook his head. “Can you believe that, Kate? He wants me to
force
you. For duty. For the family. The title. Our entire lives and the air we breathe for the sake of duty. We are nothing more than a pair of horses, forced to breed for our master’s benefit. That is our purpose.”

Kate swallowed back a wash of emotions, and tried to come up with the best way to reply to such an outburst. She heard his mother’s threat in her mind, and considered what she might be able to do to help, to prevent the ruin they seemed to be on the brink of. “So...” she began softly, “would you like me to prepare for having a child? Is that it?”

“No, that is bloody well not it!” he yelled. “Why do you always think everything has to be just so? No, Kate!”

“No?” she asked in confusion, her stomach starting to tense.

“No.”

She licked her bottom lip in apprehension, then slowly asked, “You don’t want a child?”

“No, I bloody well do not! I am not my father, Kate. I do not produce a child just for the sake of fulfilling duty, no matter how important.” He gave her a disgusted look, and said, “It galls me that you are willing to.”

She struggled to maintain calm, especially under so severe an expression. She hated his rage, but she could not refute it. They were helpless, in a way, but it need not be a sort of slavery. If he saw it that way… She took a slow breath, and then carefully spoke, “We do have duties, Derek, and it is naïve to think otherwise.”

“Naïve?” he cried, coming towards her. “Naïve, Kate? When have I ever been naïve? I have always done my duty, and to the letter. I lived for duty, I prepared for duty, and I married for duty, and look where that has brought me!”

Her tightening stomach now churned at his words, and for the first time in a long while, her blood began to boil. Her breathing began to quicken, and she met his furious gaze with an equally heated one of her own. “You are not the only one who has spent their whole life focused on duty, Derek. Need I remind you?”

“No, I thank you, I recall quite clearly how arduous your life was before you married me,” he replied, holding a hand up. “You did your duty and without too terribly much of a hunt at that. Bravo, Kate.”

“I hardly had a choice,” she hissed, her fists clenching.

“Oh, and who would you have chosen, hmm? Really, Kate, you snatched the cream of the crop.”

“Did I?” she asked with a bitter laugh of her own. “How very smart of me. Well, in that case, forcible marriage might be the best suggestion for a miserable life.”

“If you are so miserable, then why remain married to me, hmm?” he asked, standing directly before her, mocking her with his eyes. “It’s not as though Society expects it. Why not give in to their doubts and prove them all right? Ask me for an annulment, Kate. Go ahead.”

 “Well, if you want the shame of getting out of this marriage, then be my guest!” she yelled, flinging a hand out to the side.

“Maybe the shame would be worth it!” he returned, his voice reverberating off of the walls of the music room in an eerie fashion.

Silence rang for a few, heart pounding moments, and when she saw that he would not continue, that he would not take the words back, her heart stuttered and her toes went numb. “If you wish it,” she said slowly, feeling rather frozen in place, “then that is what shall be done. I will accept my fate as you so deign it to be, my lord.”

Derek stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, his body coiled with tension.

She waited in vain for him to take the words back, to see the matter for what it was. To remember what they had gained these last weeks.

“Perhaps, it would be for the best,” he finally said coldly, brushing past her. He paused at the door, then added, “…Katherine.” He slammed the door, not caring that it rattled on its hinges, nor how the house seemed to shake with the force of it.

Kate somehow waited until she was positive Derek was out of hearing range before the sobs escaped her. She covered her mouth, but even that could not muffle the frenzy of panicked cries that came tumbling out of her. She collapsed to her knees, then sank fully against the cold marble floor, unable and unwilling to stem the tide of tears that her broken heart threatened to unleash, her sobs echoing against the floors and the walls of the room, and louder still within her heart.

Hours later, feeling drained and worn down, Kate sat in the dining room, waiting for dinner. Eventually, she had picked herself off of the music room floor and taken herself up to her room, where she had restlessly dozed. Waking had been painful, as she realized that it had been no nightmare, but her reality. The tears she had thought long since faded returned, and it had been some time before she felt calm once more.

Now she sat and waited, knowing that her eyes were puffy and that she hardly looked presentable. But she was determined to be here, to eat beside her husband, and perhaps, if he allowed her, to beg for his forgiveness. She dared to hope that something could yet be salvaged from her crumbling marriage.

She glanced at the clock again, knowing that it was only going to be three minutes later than the last time she had looked. She had been sitting here for ages, and she was growing more weary by the second.

“Would your ladyship like to eat now?” asked Molly, her errant blond hair peeking out from under her cap as she poked her head into the room from the kitchen steps.

Kate shook her head stubbornly. “No, I thank you. I will wait for Lord Whitlock.”

“Oh, but he ate hours ago, ma’am.”

Kate looked over at the girl in shock, her breath simply evaporating within her chest. “He did?”

“Yes, milady.”