“At least we have a plan, and it should work fine. We’re catching it early, and that’s what matters,” the Duchess of Wesley said. “You carried yourself quite well, Quin,” his mother added, then turned her focus to Catherine. “I was concerned a fistfight wouldn’t be the end, and he’d demand satisfaction.”
Catherine was alarmed. Duels were illegal, even for a duke.
“It didn’t come to that.” Quin squeezed her waist. “Nothing is going to stop me from marrying you.” His expression was as fierce as his tone.
Catherine’s insides melted, and she pressed in to his side. “There’s always Gretna Green,” she said temptingly.
“Heavens, that’s just what we need right now.” The Duchess of Wesley gave an indelicate roll of her eyes. Apparently, the stress of the situation had negated the need for ladylike behavior.
Quin stifled his entertained reaction to his mother’s theatrics, then looked at Catherine. She drank it in, smiling even as she knew the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy.
Nothing worth fighting for was easy.
Her future with Quin was worth it.
Thirty-three
Quin’s heartbeat had finally calmed to a slower, more rational pace as the minutes stretched on. Lord Bircham’s departure had further soothed his tension, and he kept his attention on Catherine.
As much as he wanted to disregard the opinion of other peers of the realm, it was in Catherine’s best interest to not enter into marriage with black marks that would make her the object of gossip for years ahead.
He loved her too much to put her through that because he was impatient. She was worth the wait. Even if every moment was torture. He’d been burning for her for months. He’d burn for longer if he must. Love was like that. He’d read about it, heard about it, and even seen it in his parents’ relationship, but he’d never expected to experience it himself.
“Quin?” Catherine’s voice broke through his reverie. She made him happy, complete, whole.
Her soft regard was like a warm blanket, soothing his soul. “Good Lord, I love you,” she whispered. “Don’t stop looking at me like that, ever. When I’m older than my grandmother, still look at me that way.”
“I promise,” Quin responded, then kissed her forehead gently.
“Will you come with me to my grandmother’s room? I told her yesterday.”
Quin nodded. “If you think she’s well enough for a visit, then of course.”
Catherine’s answer warmed him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and check on her first.”
“I’ll be here.”
Catherine excused herself and left the room.
“I can’t tell you the joy I have watching the two of you,” his mother said as he caught the last glimpse of Catherine disappearing down the hall.
Quin turned to his mother.
“Truly, it fills my heart. I… That is, there was just so much sorrow. You understand. I didn’t see any hope. You were so broken.” The Duchess of Wesley spoke with a trembling voice. “And I wasn’t much better. I’m sure Catherine also was hurting so deeply. Isn’t it lovely how the pain that surrounded us all actually ended up bringing us together to heal?”
“It’s quite amazing,” Quin agreed. “I’ve thought of it that way as well.”
The Duchess of Wesley lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I know they say that time heals, but I don’t think that’s true. I think relationships heal people.”
“Look at you, getting wise in your old age,” Quin replied, touched by his mother’s words.
“Wise and sentimental. Good mercy, I never thought I’d be a watering pot, but the past two days have proven me a ninny.”
“With good reason. They’ve been mostly happy tears. I think you deserve a few of those after all the heartbroken tears you’ve shed in the past years.” Quin moved to stand beside his mother. He grasped her hands and pressed them against his heart.
“Thank you.” She released his grasp and withdrew a hanky.
A maid walked into the room as his mother was dabbing her eyes and bid them to follow her to Lady Greatheart’s room.