“I do not intend to give him a choice. He knows full well, as do you, that I’ve no intention of marrying again. And even if I wished to shackle myself to another husband, I certainly would not choose a man whose life is in London. I’ve no intention of removing Spencer from the security of our home, from the life we’ve created here in Little Longstone, from the healing warm springs. And if my husband and I were to live separately, lead separate lives, what is the point in marrying? Spencer and I have already suffered through such an arrangement, and once is quite enough.”
Genevieve leaned back and raised her brows. “Has Mr. Stanton asked you to marry him?”
“Well, no, but-”
“Hinted that he intends to ask you?”
Catherine frowned. “No, but-”
“Perhaps you are worrying for naught. Perhaps all he wants is a long-standing affair.”
“Which is unfortunate as I was, and am, only willing to engage in a short-lived affair.”
Genevieve nodded slowly. “Yes, well perhaps that is best. After all, a prolonged affair would entail spending more time together, which in turn could lead to those feelings that might leave one devastated when the affair ended.”
“Exactly.”
“Best to cut things off before there is any risk of developing a deeper attachment.”
“Precisely.”
“After all, except for in the biblical sense, you barely know Mr. Stanton.”
“Correct.”
“What do you know of his background? His family? His upbringing? His life in America?”
“Nothing,”Catherine answered, relaxing a bit. Finally, this conversation was on the proper course.
Genevieve frowned. “Although… you were very well acquainted with Lord Bickley before he asked for your hand, were you not?”
A warning bell chimed in the back of Catherine’s mind. “Our families were well acquainted, yes,” she admitted.
“Indeed, I recall you mentioning that you’d known him nearly your entire life, is that not correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed that he was a decent, kind, loving man.”
Catherine frowned. “I see what you are trying to do, Genevieve, but what you are saying only serves to prove my point. Yes, when I married Bertrand-a man I’d known my entire life-I believed us well matched. I thought him kind and decent. And although I did not harbor any deep, heartrending emotion toward him, I felt respect and an affection that I was confident would bloom into an abiding love. I honestly cared for him. And look how disastrously my marriage turned out. If I’m capable of so misjudging a man I’d known for years, how could I hope to properly judge a man with whom I’m barely acquainted?”
Genevieve searched her gaze for several seconds then said, “I shall give you an honest answer to that question Catherine. Lord Bickely was cosseted and fussed over his entire privileged life. I’d wager to say that if Spencer had been born perfect, you and your viscount would have maintained a formal, friendly union, without either of you ever developing any ‘deep’ or ‘heartrending’ emotions toward one another. It was when adversity was thrown at your husband that he showed his true character.”
“I wholeheartedly agree. My father has often said that how a man handles difficulties is the true test of his worth.”
“And look how Mr. Stanton has handled himself since arriving in London. He has remained steadfast and loyal to your brother and their museum project. He kept a calm, cool head, protecting you and administering aid when you were hurt. He set his own concerns aside to escort you to Little Longstone to ensure your safety. He has taken the time to develop a relationship with your son. He is not a pampered aristocrat, but a man who has made himself. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve shared more intimacies with him than you did with your husband of ten years. That is how you know what sort of man he is.”
Catherine closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips against her temples. “Why are you saying these things? I came here hoping you’d help me see things more clearly.”
“That is precisely what I am attempting to do. I believe the problem is that I am not saying the things you wish to hear.”
She lowered her hands into her lap and offered a weak smile. “No, you’re not.”
“Because I’m your friend. Because I don’t want you to make a mistake that you’ll regret the rest of your life. Because not facing the truth, not listening to your heart is more damaging, more hurtful than any other pain. And I do not think you’ve really examined your heart in this matter, Catherine. You’re afraid to do so, which, given your past, is completely understandable. Indeed, I would be frightened as well were I in your position. But you must try to put your fears aside. You were denied happiness for so long, my dear. Don’t deny yourself again.”
“But don’t you see, I’m not denying myself! I wanted a lover, so I took one. I don’t want a husband, so I won’t take one. There are precisely four reasons why a woman should marry.” She ticked the items off on her fingers as she said, “To increase her fortune, to better her social standing, to have a child, or if she requires someone to take care of her. As I am financially secure, am high enough in precedence, already have a child, and do not require someone to take care of me, I’ve absolutely no need or desire for a husband.”
“There is a fifth reason for a woman to marry, darling.”
“What’s that?”
“Love. But since you’re obviously not in love-”
“I’m not.”
“Well, that’s that.”
“Yes, it is. I’m happy, Genevieve.” As for examining her heart, she’d done so thoroughly enough. She’d certainly delved as deeply as she intended to.
For several seconds, Genevieve said nothing, just treated Catherine to an unreadable look. Then she smiled.
“I’m glad you’re happy, darling. And very relieved that you won’t be suffering a broken heart. And obviously you know what is best for you. And Spencer.”
“Thank you. And yes, I do.” Yet even as she said the words, Catherine had the sneaking suspicion that she’d agreed to something she should not have.
“Now tell me dear, whom do you think you’ll take as your next lover?”
Catherine blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your next lover. Do you think you’d prefer an older, more experienced man? Or perhaps a dashing young Brummel sort you could easily bend to your will?”
A most unpleasant sensation prowled over her skin at the thought of another man touching her. Before she could reply, Genevieve mused, “And I wonder what sort of woman will next warm Mr. Stanton’s bed? I’m certain he won’t be lonely for long. Heavens, you saw how the duke’s nieces all but salivated at the sight of him. And London is positively littered with gorgeous, sophisticated women looking for a distraction from their daily lives. Mr. Stanton would certainly provide a lovely distraction.”
Heat suffused Catherine’s body. An impossibly unpleasant sensation prowled over her skin at the thought of another woman touching Andrew. She narrowed her eyes at Genevieve, who regarded her with the innocence of an angel. “I know what you are doing, Genevieve.”
Her friend smiled. “Is it working?”
Yes. “No!” She jumped to her feet, a myriad of emotions pummeling her. Confusion. Frustration. Anguish. Fear. Jealousy. And anger. Her hands clenched, and she tried to decide if she was more angry with Genevieve for goading her, at Andrew for bringing all these unsettling feelings into her life, or at herself for allowing the situation to evolve into this.