Chapter 39

A Week Later

"Who made this tea, Thomas?" The Dowager Duchess sniffed her cup suspiciously, as if it might contain poison, before placing it down on the table with a clatter. "It tastes like dirty laundry water. Have conditions deteriorated so much at Newden Estate that the washerwoman has been enlisted to make the tea now?"

Catherine snorted, almost spitting her own tea across the room. She glanced at her husband, who looked as amused as she felt. Thomas glanced back at her, and they smiled at each other.

Catherine felt a glow start to overtake her. Hastily, she looked away, her heart beating hard. Oh, how she loved him!

"As far as I am aware, the washerwoman had no hand in the making of the tea, Grandmother," Thomas replied, his lips twitching with amusement. "But I can ring the bell and call the housekeeper if you like?"

The Dowager Duchess waved a dismissive hand in the air which disturbed the dogs lying at her feet. They raised their heads, looking around with sleepy eyes, before settling down again, content that nothing major was amiss.

"No, do not go to any trouble. I will tolerate it." She glared at him. "I will have a word with Cook myself. That woman really needs to step up her game." Her eyes darted to Catherine. "That is if the current Duchess allows me, of course."

Catherine bit her lip to stop herself from bursting into laughter. "I have no issue with you talking to Cook about the tea, Duchess."

"Good," the Dowager Duchess uttered crisply. "Now, to the affair at hand." She paused. "I take it that matters have been dealt with properly? That Lord Afferton is getting his just desserts for his appalling behavior at my party?"

Catherine's heart began to pound. She still didn't like thinking about what Patrick had done to her at that party. It still shocked her that he had been secretly in love with her for so long and he assaulted her in that way. And that he had lied about Thomas having an affair with Lady Isabella in order to manipulate her into leaving her husband and running away with him.

Even more unsettling, Thomas had told her that it wasn't the first time Patrick had been forceful with a woman. The Duke of Oakdale remembered an old rumor about him mishandling a scullery maid which had been covered up. It had made Catherine's blood run cold.

Patrick wasn't who she thought he was. He never had been.

"Yes, Grandmother," Thomas said, frowning. He looked angry. "Lord and Lady Afferton have moved to the Continent. I believe they are setting up house in Vienna." He paused, his frown deepening. "I told him he must leave the country, and if I ever see him again, it will be the end of him."

"Good." The Dowager Duchess nodded with satisfaction. "The man is a brute. I feel sorry for his wife, but that cannot be helped." She paused. "Was he resistant to going abroad? Did he challenge you?"

Thomas shook his head. "No. He knew that his only hope of recovery was leaving England entirely. He has been completely shunned by the ton since what happened at your party came to light. He knew he was ruined."

"Yes, it has been quite a scandal," the Dowager Duchess agreed, raising her eyebrows and fanning herself vigorously. "I fear that it has quite ruined my brief flirtation with hosting. I am retreating to my shell again. I cannot handle the drama!"

Thomas grinned. "Fair enough, Grandmother."

The Dowager Duchess turned to Catherine. "And how is the Dowager Countess and Lady Beatrice, my dear? How are they handling the scandal?"

Catherine smiled sadly. She had only seen Beatrice briefly since the dramatic events at the Dowager Duchess's party. Her dear friend had been inconsolable, tearfully telling her that she had no idea her brother felt that way about her or that he would ever act in such a terrible manner. Apparently, Bea had been oblivious to the fact that Patrick had mishandled the scullery maid as well. Her mother had never told her.

Beatrice had pleaded for forgiveness. Catherine had told her there was nothing to forgive. Bea was her best friend and always would be. The actions of her brother would never change that.

"I am afraid the scandal has forced them to retreat from Society as well," Catherine replied, a wave of sorrow washing over her. "They are residing with relatives in Wales. Very far away from Society."

The Dowager Duchess sniffed. "The Dowager Countess is as cold as a fish," she stated, frowning. "I have always thought so. It is no wonder that her son turned out the way he did." She paused. "But I do feel sorry for Lady Beatrice—she is a sweet girl. I am especially sorry that she is marooned in Wales with her dreadful mother."

"I feel sorry for her, too," Catherine said, tears springing to her eyes, thinking about poor Bea stuck with her mother, suffering in the aftermath of the scandal, so far from her friends. "I pray that she can endure it in good spirits and that it will not be forever."

"Nothing last forever," the Dowager Duchess stated firmly. "It may seem like it at the time, when one is stuck in a situation, but it passes like the seasons." She paused. "People will forget in time. The scandal will fade away. I have seen scandals come and go over the years."

"Do you think so?" Catherine stared at her, the longing evident in her voice. "I cannot bear to think that Beatrice is ruined forever because of this."

The Dowager Duchess let out a bark of laughter. "She will recover, my dear." She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip then grimaced, placing it down again. "She may even be recovered enough to find a husband next Season. Who knows? Anything is possible."

"I will do everything I can to help her," Catherine said in a fervent voice. "I intend to visit her as often as I can and to tell everyone in the ton that I am doing so. Hopefully, it will start to turn the tide of ill opinion around, if they see that I hold no grudge against Lord Afferton's mother and sister."

The Dowager Duchess nodded. "How very gracious of you, my dear, especially after what that terrible cad did to you." She hesitated, looking at her closely. "I hope you are quite recovered now?"

Catherine's gaze slid to her husband, who was sitting beside her. He reached out and took her hand, holding it to his lips before lowering it again. The glow surrounding Catherine intensified.

Thomas had barely left her side in the week following the awful events at that party. He told her he was taking her back to the country to get away from the scandal that had sprung up around them. He had whisked her away to Newden Estate, where they had been taking long walks in the garden, watching the leaves on the trees slowly turn to russet and gold as the seasons changed. Just the two of them.

Catherine felt healed, intensely loved and cared for, her spirit nurtured. She no longer doubted the strength of their feelings for each other. Nor their commitment to their marriage.

She was, quite simply, the luckiest woman in this world.

"I am," she replied, turning back to the Dowager Duchess, her heart swelling. "Thanks to your grandson."

Thomas squeezed her hand.

"Ah," the Dowager Duchess murmured, looking pleased. "I can see that things have progressed even further between the two of you." She leaned forward, her smile vanishing, and she fixed them both with a fierce gaze. "And now, for the love of God, when am I getting a great-grandchild?"