Chapter 19

Nineteen

“ I don’t know what happened,” Cherie sobbed into Cassandra’s lap. “One day, he was kissing me and telling me that he has cared for me for years, and then the next day, he was telling me that it could never happen between us, that he wasn’t worthy, and that I would be better off without him.”

Her tears wouldn’t stop falling down her cheeks. All Cherie wanted was to stop crying, but ever since her conversation with Thomas, she hadn’t been able to stem the flow.

Cassandra patted her head. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, and Cherie felt the usual flush of warmth she always felt for her kind, sweet friend.

Minerva, who was sitting on the edge of Cassandra’s bed, sighed. “It sounds as if this is his issue, not yours,” she said, and Cherie could practically feel her shrugging. It was also a very typical Minerva response, but it didn’t bother Cherie at all. She was grateful to have all her friends’ different perspectives.

Samantha, of course, could always be relied on to get up in arms for her friends, and she was now pacing around the bedroom. When she spoke, she didn’t sound resigned at all. “What did he say, exactly?” she asked. “He didn’t say that he doesn’t love you, right?”

“R-right,” Cherie hiccupped, “but he also d-didn’t say that he loved me.”

“But he said he had strong feelings for you two days ago,” Samantha clarified.

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” Samantha stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “So, his feelings haven’t changed. The problem is not that he doesn’t want to be married to you in a traditional way. The problem is that for whatever reason, he feels as if he is unworthy to be married to you.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Cherie said. “But it amounts to the same thing: he does not want to be properly married to me.”

“But one of those things you can’t change, and the other you can,” Samantha pointed out. “For instance, you could not convince a man to love you who doesn’t. But you might be able to convince him that he is worthy of being your husband.”

“But should she?” Minerva asked, and all three of them turned to look at her. “I just mean, is it really her job to talk the duke into believing he’s worthy of love? That sounds exhausting, and he is a grown man. He should be able to do that for himself.”

“Even grown men often need support,” Cassandra said wisely. “As do grown women! We are none of us islands unto ourselves, and we all sometimes need a loved one to reassure us.”

“That would be fine if the duke were asking for reassurance,” Minerva said, frowning. “But instead, he is just pushing Cherie away. And personally, I don’t think Cherie should have to convince her husband to treat her as she deserves.”

“I thought you liked the duke,” Cassandra said, “after how he helped out your sister.”

“I do like the duke!” Minerva looked surprised by the question. “I like him very much. I’m approaching this from a purely rational point of view. As Cherie’s friend, I can’t encourage her to try and save him from his own problems just because I happen to like the man.”

“But you can’t approach love from a purely rational point of view,” Cassandra argued. “Love is not rational. Humans are not rational! And sometimes we have to sacrifice for those we love. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. But it’s worth it when it’s for the right person.”

“If that’s what love is, then I want no part of it,” Minerva said, shaking her head. “I want to be able to make rational decisions about what is right for me and not be swayed by my feelings.”

“You’re both forgetting that I don’t really have any choice in this matter,” Cherie said. She sat up and looked between her friends. “He doesn’t want to try. I can’t just talk him into changing his mind.”

“Well, there we disagree,” Samantha said. She flopped down on the bed and looked at Cherie very seriously. “Do you love him?”

The word reverberated through Cherie, and she felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs.

Memories suddenly came back to her: Thomas, bursting into the clearing where Lord Dawson was trying to compromise Chastity; Thomas, fighting Lord Dawson, his hair wild and his eyes full of fury; Thomas, standing in front of her at the inn, looking like a knight in shining armor (albeit one she didn’t think she needed); Thomas, explaining that he was insisting that they marry because of his regard for her, because he didn’t want to see her ruined.

And then even more memories came back to her, memories from long ago: him playing with her when her brother and his friends visited her; him giving her gifts of books and strange specimens that he’d gathered on his visits to India; him kissing her hand that time in the parlor when she had been out riding and when she walked in on him, he looked as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“Lady Cherie,” he’d said, and it was the first time he’d ever used her title ahead of her name. “You look…” His eyes had swept over her, and she’d felt a strange mixture of flattery but also annoyance. She wanted him to find her beautiful—she wanted all young men to find her beautiful when she was that age and just coming into her feminine power—but she also didn’t want him to treat her any differently. And part of her had been annoyed to find that all men were the same: they only saw her one way.

But instead of saying something saccharine, he’d said the most perfect words imaginable.

“You know, the first time he realized he desired me was after he returned from India when I was fifteen,” she said aloud to her friends. “He told me this yesterday. He was waiting for Aidan in the parlor, and I walked in wearing my riding clothes. It had been a year or more since I’d seen him, and in that time, I’d become a woman. And in that moment, he no longer saw the little girl he'd been playing with, but the woman I was becoming.”

“When you were fifteen?” Minerva said, frowning slightly. “So right after your mother died?”

“Yes.” Cherie swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. “She had died six months previously, while Thomas was in India. I’d written to him about her death, and he’d sent me the kindest letter, but otherwise, we hadn’t talked much. I was so busy missing my mother that I didn’t have room in my heart to miss him as well. And I missed my mother so much. She was beautiful, you know, and the life of every party.”

“I remember,” Minerva said softly.

“I wish I’d known her,” Cassandra sighed. “Aidan also speaks of her with such reverence.”

“And she died at such a hard age for me,” Cherie continued. “My body was changing, going from a little girl to a woman. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her. And I felt so uncomfortable in my skin. But that day, when I walked into the parlor and saw Thomas standing there, he didn’t tell me I looked beautiful or grown-up. He didn’t make me feel even more uncomfortable.”

“What did he say?” Samantha asked, leaning toward her.

“He said I looked like my mother.”

They were all silent as they thought about this. Out of the corner of her eye, Cherie was even sure she saw Cassandra brush away a tear.

“So yes,” she said, drawing herself up. “I do think I love him. It wasn’t a lightning bolt for me like it was for him. I loved him for all those years when I was a child, but only as a brother. And then when we grew up, he was in India, and I longed for him but couldn’t understand my feelings. But when he said we had to marry, all of that shut down inside of me.” She laughed. “I suppose I’m always like that when a man tries to tell me what to do.”

“As you should be,” Samantha said, with a small wink.

“But he has always been there for me. He has always tried to protect me and those I love. And he has always said the right thing.”

“Until now,” Minerva said.

“Yes, until now.”

“If you really love him, then I think you need to fight for him,” Samantha said. “You have no other choice. I know Minerva thinks you shouldn’t, but this is your life and your marriage. And if you don’t fight for it, then you will wonder for the rest of your life if you could have done more.”

“I agree with Samantha,” Cassandra said. “I think love is worth fighting for. And you’re in this marriage: what other option do you have?”

“There is always annulment,” Minerva pointed out. Again, everyone turned to look at her.

“When did you become so unromantic?” Samantha asked, frowning and crossing her arms.

“Maybe around the time that my sister’s suitor assaulted her,” Minerva said, shrugging. “Or maybe I just think women should have more options in life other than begging a man to love them or staying unhappily married.”

“Well, as much as I agree with you on that,” Cherie said, “I don’t want to have an annulment. The whole reason I got married in the first place was because otherwise there would have been a huge scandal. An annulment would be an even worse scandal! It is not done. And it would tarnish my friends’ reputations as much as it would tarnish my own.”

“We would survive if it’s what you want,” Minerva said.

“That’s true,” Cassandra said bracingly. “We are here for you no matter what you choose.”

“But it’s not what I want,” Cherie said. “I want to live with him! I want to love him! I want to… to grow old with him.” The words were cheesy, but she forced herself to say them. Again, she was sure she saw Cassandra’s eyes fill with tears.

“Then you have to fight,” Cassandra said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Either that, or…”

“What?”

“Or live separately.”

There was a long silence as all of them considered this as an option.

“It is not unheard of, in the ton ,” Samantha said after a moment. “Not ideal, for some women, but for others, it is exactly the kind of freedom they have always wanted.”

“I don’t want to live separately from him,” Cherie said. “I don’t want to do these things the ton deems appropriate for married couples that aren’t in love. I want love with my husband!”

“I know, darling,” Cassandra said, stroking her gently, “but we cannot control other people. Perhaps living separately can be a backup plan, in case all else fails. It will allow you to at least lead an independent life that you are proud of without being constantly reminded of how your husband has disappointed you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Cherie bit her lip. She wasn’t sure what to do. Thomas had sounded so adamant earlier that nothing more could come of them, and while she wanted to agree with Cassandra that she should fight for her marriage, she wasn’t sure she had it in her. It felt like she had been fighting with Thomas for so long now.

Anyway, Cassandra was happily married. Just because things had worked out for her didn’t mean they would work out for Cherie.

“I just wish I knew what had happened,” she said, sighing and leaning back on the bed. “He seemed so happy and at peace the other day when we kissed, and then the next day… everything had changed.”

“Well, what happened yesterday?” Samantha inquired. “Maybe we can go back over his day and discover what it is that changed his mind. It might tell us how we can fix it.”

“Nothing happened,” Cherie said slowly. “The duke was out when I was having breakfast, and when I asked where he’d gone, I was told he went for a morning ride. Then I went out promenading with Minerva. And when I got back, he was in the library, and his whole demeanor had changed.”

“He wasn’t out for a ride,” Cassandra said suddenly. “The duke was visiting with Aidan yesterday.”

All three women stared at her.

“Why didn’t you say this before?” Cherie asked.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was relevant,” Cassandra said, her eyes wide. “He wasn’t here long, but he and Aidan spoke for a while, and then they came up here to visit me. After that, he left rather quickly.”

“Well, do you know what Aidan said to him?” Cherie asked eagerly. “Did they speak about me?”

“Aidan didn’t mention anything. When I asked what he and the duke had spoken about, he said they mostly talked about me and my?—”

She cut herself off, her cheeks flushing. She bit her lip coyly, and Cherie, Samantha, and Minerva all looked at one another, then back at their friend.

“What is it?” Samantha asked.

Cassandra looked up at them, and a wide smile broke across her face. “I’m with child,” she said. “The doctor just told me last week that I am.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Samantha shrieked, and she threw herself forward, grabbing Cassandra and hugging her tight. “Congratulations!”

“Don’t grab her like that, Samantha!” Minerva protested. “She’s in a delicate condition.”

“Oh, posh, it’s not so delicate.” But Samantha released Cassandra and sat back, beaming. “I’m so pleased! I know this is what you wanted more than anything.”

Cherie, meanwhile, was so filled with emotion that she could hardly speak. She sat up and placed a hand on Cassandra’s.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered. “For you and Aidan. And myself, now that I think of it. I’m going to be an aunt!”

“And I know you will be the best aunt in the world,” Cassandra whispered, her eyes filling once more with tears. “I’m so glad we get to be a family like this, Cherie. And I know that whatever happens with the duke?—”

“Hush, let us not talk of the duke,” Cherie said, placing a finger over his friend’s lips. “This moment is about you and my brother. And I have never been so happy as I am for you right now. Our little circle of wallflowers is expanding!”

She looked around at her three friends, and the four of them wrapped their arms around one another in a many-armed hug.

“To think, when we made that pact to help each other get married, that there would soon be a baby on the way!” Cherie said, shaking her head. “We are so lucky.”

“Indeed, we are,” Cassandra said, squeezing her hand. “And no matter what happens—to all of us—we will always have each other.”

Later, after the rest of the wallflowers had left, Cherie found her brother downstairs in his study. The door was open, and she watched him for a few minutes as he wrote something in his ledger, unaware of her presence.

Then she knocked lightly on the door.

Aidan looked up and smiled when he saw her.

“Come in, come in,” he said, standing and coming around the desk. “How are you, Cherie?”

“I’m good,” she whispered, burying her head in his chest. “Cherie told me. Congratulations, Aidan. You’re going to be a father.”

She heard her brother’s laugh rumble against her chest. “So, my wife let the cat out of the bag, did she?”

Cherie laughed and released Aidan. “She let it slip out, really. I don't think she meant to tell us.”

“Oh, I’m sure she meant to tell you,” Aidan said with a chuckle. “She’s been dying to tell her friends ever since she found out.”

“Are you happy?” she asked, peering up at him.

“The happiest I have ever been in my life.” He paused, then laughed. “Although, as I told your husband, it is also the most terrified I’ve ever been.”

“You said that to Thomas?” Cherie asked, surprised and intrigued. “Why?”

“Well, because it is alarming! Being a parent is an awesome responsibility, and it’s not one I take lightly. But I also welcome that responsibility because I love the duchess so dearly and want to build a family with her.”

“That’s beautiful,” Cherie said quietly. She paused, wondering how much more she could ask him, and then inquired, “Was there anything else he said, or you said to him, that might account for why Thomas has become colder than usual the past day?”

“Has he?” Her brother frowned at her. “I’m surprised to hear that.”

“Are you? He has been cold ever since he inherited the duchy.”

“Yes, but I was under the impression that things had improved. And he seemed well enough when he called upon us yesterday. Although a bit distracted, perhaps.”

Cherie tried to keep herself from leaping to conclusions at this tidbit of information. “Things had improved, but they got worse again, and I think it might have something to do with his visit to you yesterday. I suspect that finding out about Cassandra’s condition might have triggered the change in him.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, he was very defensive about his father. And when I found him yesterday, he was in the library looking for his mother’s diaries. He seems to have a preoccupation with parenthood right now. And I’m wondering if that has something to do with why… Well, why he isn’t sure he wants to have children.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows. “He said he didn’t want children? Really? But what about heirs?”

Cherie waved a hand as if trying to downplay what she had said. “Of course he wants children, I just feel a certain reticence from him whenever I broach the subject.”

“I’m sure he just wants more time with you,” Aidan said bracingly.

“Perhaps.” Cherie didn’t like keeping the whole truth from her brother, but she also didn’t want to go into everything with him now, when he was so happy about the news of the baby. “I’d just like to figure out how to help make children an event he can look forward to.”

Aidan nodded slowly as if he understood this. “He did say this strange thing to me, about how he always believed children should have to be worthy of their parents. But I told him it’s the other way around: it’s on a father to prove his worth to his son.”

“Has he said this kind of thing before?” she asked.

“Not that I remember. But he did have a difficult relationship with his father, Cherie. That much I know, although he did try to hide the worst parts of it from me.”

Cherie sighed. “What you told me makes sense. He feels unworthy of his father, and it’s part of what is making him think he is unworthy of me and the life I want to build with him.”

“I’m sure he will come around,” Aidan said. “He won’t feel unworthy forever, he just needs to see himself through your eyes. And maybe once you have children of your own, he will see what a joy being a father can be. I’m sure he just associates it with the painful memories of his own father. But he will change his mind, once he has his own.”

Cherie forced herself to nod, then changed the subject back to Cassandra’s baby.

“So, have you come up with any names yet?”

Aidan laughed. “Not yet. But I look forward to sitting down with the duchess and coming up with a list together.”

His eyes were shining with love and excitement, and Cherie realized that this was what she wanted more than anything on earth: a man she didn’t have to convince to be happy at the thought of having a child with her.

She wasn’t like Cassandra, so sweet and forgiving. Nor was she like Samantha, always scheming and angry. Minerva was practical and logical, and she wasn’t like that either. What she was though was a strong, independent woman who knew her own worth.

And I’m certainly worth a man who believes himself worthy of me.

She hugged her brother goodbye, then made her way out of her childhood home and back towards her married home—although she now knew that it wouldn’t be her home for long.