Katherine shook her head, besieged by sudden guilt. “Never, Anne.” She’d seen her as the sister in need of protection from the woes thrust upon their family by a wastrel father, but never an empty-headed fool.
Her sister continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “You both believed I wasn’t aware of our financial circumstances. You believed I remained immune to the direness of our situation.”
Shock slammed into Katherine, but Anne went on. “I am not silly or—”
“I don’t believe you’re silly—”
“Empty-headed,” Anne said, her eyes blazed with more emotion than Katherine ever remembered in her gentle eyes. “I am, I might be, fanciful. And I might dream of love, and happily ever afters, but that does not make me silly.” She angled her head. “Well, it might seem silly but I believe it is more hopeful. I’m hopeful that there are men who are good and don’t squander their family’s wealth, and leave them destitute, and force them to sell off all their possessions and release all their servants.”
Katherine searched her sister’s face, and the guilt inside spiraled and grew as she confronted the reality; she’d not protected Anne from their family’s dire situation, no more than Aldora had protected Katherine. They’d all been touched by their father’s selfishness.
Suddenly, she wished she had that heart pendant, wished she could turn it over to her sister who believed in love, and…Katherine blinked…#p#分页标题#e#
“What is it?” Anne asked.
…and realized she believed in love, too. She did not love Jasper Waincourt, 8th Duke of Bainbridge. She could not. She would not. Not when such a gentleman would never be able to love her in return.
“Katherine?” Anne asked again.
No. She appreciated his forthrightness, his regard for poetry, and his passionate embrace. There was nothing more.
There couldn’t be.
“I’m so sorry, Anne.” For not protecting you, for not sharing with you my fears, for losing the heart pendant worn by Aldora and her friends.
Anne captured her hands, and gave them a gentle squeeze. “There is no reason to be sorry. If you did want to perhaps join me again at the Frost Fair and search for—”
Katherine’s laugh cut into her sister’s words.
“What?” Anne said, defensively. “We simply will not find the heart pendant unless we search for it.”
They would not find it, because Katherine had already lost it. What was worse was that Katherine was too much a coward to admit as much to Anne.
“Don’t you dream of love, Katherine?”
“I’m too practical to dream of love, Anne,” she said softly. She had. At one time. Back when she’d been a silly, naïve girl of fifteen years. Now, as a woman of nearly twenty years, a woman had nary a suitor, or any offers for her hand, and who’d had to convince the Duke of Bainbridge to wed her, well, the dream of love didn’t exist for ladies such as her.
“Well, that is very sad, then.”
Katherine opened her mouth to respond when a high-pitched cry interrupted her response.
The door flew open.
Katherine and Anne’s gaze swung as one toward the entrance of the room.
Mother stood at the center, her hand aloft, a scrap of thick velum in her hand. “It is not to be countenanced,” she cried.
Katherine and Anne exchanged looks. Mother’s theatrics were often best reserved for the stage, but when she was in such a state, it was wise to avoid her.
She stormed into the room. Her deep burgundy satin skirts slapped noisily against her legs. She stopped in front of them, and brandished the letter in her hand.
“A letter,” she cried. “The…the…gall of the man. He dares to notify me in such a manner.”
“Mother,” Katherine began.
Her mother silenced her with a single, black glare. “Not a word, Katherine. This is entirely your fault. It matters not that he’s a duke. He’s a shameful, scandalous man. The Mad Duke,” she muttered.
Katherine’s heart sped up. He’d spoken to her guardian. He must have. There was no other accounting for Mother’s fury.
Mother waved the paper about. “He’s not been seen by Society in years, and all those hideous rumors about him murdering his wife.” She shuddered.
Katherine stiffened. Fury lanced through her body. How dare her mother? Jasper was no more capable of murder than Katherine was capable of sprouting wings and taking flight. “That is unfair, Mother. He did not murder his wife.”
“Do you even know what happened to her?” her mother shot back.