Page 32

I n the end, their time in Scotland had become more of a holiday, and it was one that Dorothy did not want to end.

A week passed, however, and they had to return home.

Though sad that she would not see her sister again for some time, Dorothy was well aware that she had an important matter to tend to upon her return.

Morgan had explained that Lady Annabelle had been staying there, partly as she had nowhere else to go and partly to conceal the truth of Catherine's identity.

He also had not wanted gossip of their supposed annulment to spread throughout the ton, which she agreed could not happen.

Even so, it did not make the thought of confronting her any easier.

In spite of the way the inevitable conflict frightened her, however, she wanted to go through with it.

She wanted to be the one to prove herself, rather than have her husband do it for her.

Not only that, but she had an awful lot to say and she intended to say it.

"Do come and visit again," Eleanor said kindly as they were leaving.

"We most certainly plan to," Morgan nodded.

"And you must visit us!" Catherine added, looking directly at the children behind Eleanor. "We have plenty of room for you all."

The adults chuckled, and then went their separate ways.

Catherine, pleased to have been forgiven, fell asleep almost as soon as they set off, her head on Dorothy's lap.

She stroked the child's hair, pleased that there would be no need to mend anything between the two of them.

What Lady Annabelle had done to the girl was cruel, and Catherine had not deserved any of it, but they would settle that upon their return.

For the moment, she was simply happy to be sitting with her family, and going home.

"I rather like Scotland, you know," Morgan commented. "Perhaps we might find a home here? We could visit it in Summer, or at Christmas."

"I would very much like to see my sister at Christmas," she replied, eyes sparkling. "It would also allow Catherine to see her new friends."

"She was very different there, was she not?"

"Very much. It would seem her condition is at last improving."

She had, of course, meant it in a good way, but her husband's face fell. She placed a hand on his knee, smiling encouragingly.

"I blame myself," he said suddenly. "I have been the one that kept her hidden away for so long, terrified that she would be looked down upon, when really being seen is what she has needed all along. I cannot imagine how sad she has been all this time."

"She has always been a very happy little girl–"

"But she has always wanted more. She must have lived believing I was ashamed of her, and that I would keep her hidden away forever."

"Was that not your plan?"

"No, I was going to– well, I never had a plan to introduce her into society, but she would have been allowed to meet people. You and your friends, for example."

"But never any other children," she mused.

"That will change," he said firmly. "It has to. I simply do not know how to do it as yet. I cannot have her looked at the way the ton does illegitimate children. I do not care whether my brother was married or not, she is my niece."

"She is also mine," she agreed. "We will find a solution. In the meantime, we should prepare for what is to come."

One good thing about being away from London was the fact that Catherine could go wherever she pleased.

They would not be recognized in local taverns and inns, not when the nobility was all in London for the social season.

They stopped at an inn, and at once Catherine began to introduce herself and talk to any other children she could see.

It was as though she had truly come to life, and Dorothy felt as though she truly was with her daughter, rather than her niece.

They continued their journey home, and the closer they got to the manor the tenser Dorothy grew.

She could not stop thinking about the lady she would soon be facing, and she felt the anger burning inside of her.

Lady Annabelle had done more than try to hurt her.

She had made vicious lies about her friend, and had tried to destroy her family, and that was unforgivable.

She would have to maintain a calm exterior, but underneath it was a storm that she knew would only grow.

They reached their home, and Catherine leaped out of the carriage, leaving Dorothy alone with her husband for a moment.

"Keep Catherine away for a while," she whispered to him. "Perhaps take her to the glasshouse, or to the stables, but she must not enter the household."

"Of course, though I must ask you why."

"Because I do not want Lady Annabelle to say anything to her that is unkind. We are going to protect her, and if that means not allowing her into her home for a short while then so be it."

Morgan was looking at her with pride, and that made what she was about to do less frightening. She watched as he whisked Catherine away, and then she marched through the front door.

"Your Grace," Mrs. Herrington said brightly. "Thank goodness you have returned!"

"There is nowhere that I would rather be."

"I am so pleased to hear that. I must warn you, though, that I have found something very troubling in your guest's room."

They went to Lady Annabelle's room, and Dorothy at last looked around it. Gowns were strewn throughout, and letters were scattered on her desk. They were all addressed to her father, scribblings about how she was doing all that she could.

"These are… very odd."

"It is worse than that," Mrs. Herrington sighed, opening a drawer. "I found these. I am unsure of what they might be, but I know you love botany in the same way the Duke does. Might you recognize them?"

Dorothy looked and saw a pile of nightshade berries. They were highly poisonous, and she could only imagine what Lady Annabelle had planned, but she did not want to concern her housekeeper any more than she already appeared to be.

"It is nothing," she assured her. "Perhaps she simply thought they looked delicious and wished to hide them away for later?"

Her housekeeper seemed satisfied with that, but Dorothy was shaken by it. One thing was for certain, however; she would have her answers, and Lady Annabelle would be dealt with.

She found Lady Annabelle in the drawing room, admiring some flowers that Dorothy had never placed there. When she saw Dorothy, she looked startled for a moment, and then she grinned at her.

"I do not suppose that you expected to see me here," Dorothy said coldly.

"No, no I certainly did not. Have you come to collect your things?"

"No, I have told you to collect yours, lest you want them thrown into the fireplace."

"Oh, Dear, you are very troubled indeed. I must say, I never thought that my plan would work so beautifully, but I am very pleased with it indeed."

"So you admit that it was all your doing?"

"Of course. It is no secret that my family has been struggling for a long time, since the death of my beloved sister, and it is only fair that I received some good from the family that caused it."

"We did not cause anything. The two people that had any real blame in this have both passed away, and though unfortunate, it is not as though anything can be done about that. We simply have to move forward, and that includes you."

"Which is precisely why I plan to be Duchess in your place. It is my way of moving forward."

"You shall have to find another plan, as the title is mine. This life is mine, and you will not take it from me."

"I believe that your husband shall have the last say in that."

"Indeed. Do you not know where he has been this past while?"

"Arranging the annulment. He told me himself that he would be doing so. It is a shame that the two of you never consummated the marriage, for you at least."

It would have been a powerful accusation, had Dorothy not known the truth. She had never once believed Lady Annabelle's lies, and that was not going to change simply because what she said was hurtful.

"I think it might be best for you to refrain from speaking about my marriage, given that it is none of your business. If I were you, I would return to your family and try to mend what is broken."

"My family is wonderful. I was one of the most well-liked debutantes."

"You were, but that is no longer the case. That is why you are here. You planned all of this, so that you could take my life from me, but I will not be giving it to you. You shall have to find another gentleman that is willing to take you as his wife, because my husband will not."

"I believe the Duke should have the last word about that."

"Very well," she nodded, "let us go to him."

She left to find them, and they were in the glasshouse. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the three flowers that had been planted together. Hers and Morgan's, and then just in front was a bright yellow tulip.

"Look at it, Aunt Dorothy!" Catherine smiled brightly. "I have one too now, just like you and my uncle."

"It is beautiful. Catherine, might you go and play outside for a moment?"

"No, she can hear this," Lady Annabelle insisted. "She can hear how you have once again made awful comments about my family. Tell her, Your Grace."

"Did you, now?" Morgan asked, one corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"This time, I did," she confessed. "I told her to leave my family alone, and to go and fix her own."

"Except that I do not have to leave, do I?" Lady Annabelle asked Morgan. "Because you have sought an annulment."

Catherine looked up at him, alarmed, but Dorothy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"That is strange, Lady Annabelle," Morgan replied, "because you told me that it had been my wife that was trying to do that. You wrote it in this letter here, or shall I say that my wife did?"

Morgan pulled a letter out of his pocket, and at last, Lady Annabelle's facade broke. She ripped it from his hand, tearing it into pieces before throwing it to the ground, stamping on it.

"You fool," she spat. "Do you have any idea what you are doing? You could have had the very best wife, one that had been beloved all her life, and instead you have chosen this ugly little thing."

"That is enough," he commanded. "Leave now, before I have you thrown out."

"No. I have spent so much time trying to ignore all of your strange ways, but I cannot do so any longer, not if you will not show your gratitude to me. You truly are a bear, an animal. Do you honestly think that polite society will accept this– this bastard among them?"

She pointed at Catherine, and at once Dorothy felt rage unlike anything she had felt before. Morgan took the girl in his arms as she burst into tears.

"Take her away," Dorothy ordered. "I shall remedy this myself."

"You will do nothing," Lady Annabelle laughed. "Sweet little Dorothy, afraid of her own shadow. That is what everyone says of you, you know. You are nothing but a little mouse, unwilling to do anything for anyone. You are a coward, and the ton knows it. They shall never accept you."

"And you are a spinster, in a family that has nothing," Dorothy replied.

"Do not think that, because I choose not to be unkind, I am incapable of being so.

Perhaps you were once a liked member of the nobility, but all it would take is one rumor about the real whereabouts of your sister and you shall be ruined completely. "

"Then I shall tell them first. I shall tell everyone about your strange little illegitimate niece, and how even your loving husband hid her away out of shame."

"And would you like her mother to be known?"

She fell silent.

"I am not ashamed of my niece, and I never have been.

I did not have to pretend to like her simply because I wished to marry her uncle.

I pity you, you know. You do not know love, nor happiness.

You only know spite, and it shows in you.

You are going to live a very miserable life, Lady Annabelle, and no amount of memories of a time when you were pretty can make up for that.

If you wish for this to all turn ugly, then that can be arranged, but I would not suggest it.

I believe it would be best if you go back from where you came, and you leave us be. "

"Oh? And what will you do if I do not?"

"I shall have you removed, and tell anyone who listens that you planned to poison me."

She staggered back.

"You have no proof!"

"No, but I do have several berries growing here that could do the job quite easily, and given that Mrs. Herrington saw some in your drawer upstairs, one could quite easily connect the two things."

A tense silence fell between them, and Dorothy held her gaze. She was not afraid of her anymore, not knowing that her husband would protect her from anything.

"I was never going to poison you."

"Then what were you going to do? Take enough to make you unwell and claim I had done it?"

Lady Annabelle glared at her furiously, and then turned away, leaving the estate without collecting any of her belongings.

Dorothy trembled, not knowing what would come next.

Lady Annabelle was a dangerous person, and she could do anything she pleased, but Dorothy tried not to think about it.

Her threat was made, and seemingly heeded.

She returned to her home, looking for her family.

They were, after all, the only thing she truly cared about at that moment.