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Billionaire Flawed 1(223)

By:Tia Siren


“He’s leaving tomorrow. His whole regiment is being taken on some sort of exercise. For half a year, at least.”

Rebecca nodded softly. “You have the Duke; maybe this will be good for you, to focus on what you should be focusing on. Without that boy here, you can turn your eyes to the man they should be turned upon.”

Catherine sighed, but she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to argue with Rebecca, and so she let her say what she wanted. When her older sister realized Catherine was content to concede so early, she stood and bent, kissing Catherine on the forehead.

“Things will look better in the morning,” she promised, and then she left Catherine’s room.

Catherine lay in her bed, looking at the canopy above her bed. It was a soft pink color and felt almost like silk. She reached up, her fingers brushing along the material, which fell from the canopy to surround her bed. Sometimes it brought her comfort, sometimes it reminded her of years past, better years when she wasn’t promised to some man she hardly knew when she thought she would marry Dominick. That night, however, it brought no comfort.

The next morning Catherine was woken by the morning light, warm and yellow and lying in a rectangular shaft over her eyes. She blinked and sat up, still dressed in the same gown she had worn to see Dom. She called for a bath, and then undressed while the servant girls went to ready it. One came back in, a young girl with hair the color of straw and a mousy face. She was named Diana, and Catherine liked her very much. She knew the twelve-year-old girl had a crush on one of the boys who worked in the stables.

“Have you spoken with Horace of late?” Catherine asked, and the girl blushed.

“No, Lady Catherine,” Diana whispered as she held a robe up.

“Diana, please, call me Catherine,” the older woman said, and the girl nodded. It was something she had often been told, and something she wasn’t very likely to do. Catherine pulled the robe over her body and allowed Diana to lead her out of her room and to the washroom, where a large tub had been filled with hot water. She dropped the robe to the floor and stepped into the tub, grimacing as the water nipped painfully at her flesh until she was submerged to her neck, and she began to grow accustomed to the heat.

Diana stood nearby, in case the Lady would need anything.

“If you like the boy, you should tell him,” Catherine said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the edge of the tub.

“He would never like me,” Diana said sadly. “Not when there are others around.”

Catherine opened her eyes and looked to the girl. “Come here,” she said, and Diana stepped forward obediently. Catherine took her small hand with her own wet one. “Never think yourself inferior,” Catherine told the girl. “There will always be someone prettier, or smarter, or better at something. That said, you will always have something better than them. You’re a beautiful young woman, Diana, and you would do well to remember that.”

The young girl nodded, and Catherine smiled to her, and then, to ease the mood she made a silly face and sank completely into the tub. When she surfaced, she could hear the girl giggling, and she reached for a towel to dry her eyes.

After her bath, Catherine and Diana returned to her room, and two other servant girls came in to help Catherine dress. She chose a gown of lilac, with a white lace that ran along the skirt, and a shawl to drape over her arms, because it was growing a bit chilly as the fall came on strong.

Just as she was finishing up being dressed, there was a knock upon her door.

“Come in,” Catherine said, turning so Diana could lace the back of the dress up. The door opened, and another servant came in, an older woman named Helen whom Catherine had known since she was a small child.

“Lady Catherine,” Helen said, in her shaky voice. She had been sick of late, and Catherine was beginning to worry about her health.

“Hello Helen,” Catherine said. “Care to sit down?” she added, motioning with one hand to a chair which sat pushed into a small writing desk.

“No ma’am,” Helen said. “I’ve come to tell you Duke Rotham has called upon you. He awaits you in the drawing room.

Catherine smiled and nodded on her exterior, but inside, she felt a cold hand seize her, possibly grabbing her heart. As she stood there, being laced up, Dom was surely on his way out of the city while the man she was being forced to marry was right beneath her feet, in her home. Tears threatened to come once again, in an instant, but the young woman willed them away.

“Please tell him I’ll be right down,” Catherine said, and Helen bowed her head and went out.