Chapter Twenty

Catherine had been right; he had returned to her before the month was out. Colin held off as long as he could, but now it was the eve of the engagement party and he was angry at himself for giving up her affection and physical comfort only to watch Mary and Dickon grow closer by the day.

The heavy wood door creaked open and Colin faced a stern-faced Catherine with her hand on her hip.

"What do you want?" she asked blithely.

Colin bit his tongue, knowing he was in for a verbal lashing. Best to get it over with and set his new plan in motion.

"I've come to apologize, Catherine," he said.

Catherine quirked her eyebrows at this admission, gripping the edge of the door so that her knuckles turned white.

"Oh, really?"

"I've made a terrible mistake, I realize that now. You were right on every count. Here I am, with my tail between my legs just as you said I would be."

"And how is that my problem?"

It was going to take much more work to win her over, Colin realized. She wasn't quite as desperately in love with him as he'd assumed. At least, not anymore. He would have to take extra care to ease the sting of his earlier visit.

"It's not," he said, stammering. "Come now, Catherine, don't leave me like this." He could appeal to her pity, perhaps.

"Like what? The cad you are? The man who told me he loved me while pining for another lass? Promised me the world and pulled the rug out from under me? You can stand there until the crack of doom, for all I care. Or better yet, be on your way so I don't have to trip over you when I put out the rest of the trash."

Colin swallowed hard. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, as the poet would say. But how to quell the fire? He looked around at the building, and then gestured to it.

"You don't have to live like this, Catherine. You can have so much better. I can provide that."

"Where have I heard that before?" she scoffed.

He sighed. "From me. Yes, I said it before. But this time, this time I'm going to be straight with you. I'll tell you the absolute truth, even though it may not be easy to hear."

"This should be good for a laugh."

She was beating him at every turn. Colin took a deep breath and wrung his hat in his hands.

"Mary Lennox and I have a history together. I hadn't even known about her until we were ten years old and I fell in love with her, as much as one can at that age. She helped me during a time when things were falling apart. I can't change that I love her and always will, but Dickon—"

"The young man who works in the gardens?"

"Yes, Dickon, he's going to marry Mary."

"That's a pickle, that is. So if you loved her all this time, why did you bother with me? I haven't got all the things a fine lady does. Or was it because you found me … easy?"

"I enjoyed your company. That's not a lie."

Catherine shrugged. "And your Mary wasn't available? Or doesn't she love you back?"

"Enough digs, Catherine. I'm going to make you an offer and no false pretenses. I'd like to help provide for your welfare and in exchange I can come visit with you on occasion."

"Oh that again, eh?"

"Simple as. You get something, I get something. And I'd like you to come to Mary and Dickon's engagement party tomorrow as my guest."

"Won't that cause a stir with all of your fine folks at the manor house?"

"Exactly."

Catherine whistled. "Jealously hasn't just made you foolish, but cruel. I never took you for that kind of man."

"I'll pay you handsomely for your time and discretion. I won't make excuses for the way I am now. I dare say you have heard them all, anyway."

"And what did Mary do to you except love another man? Was that cruelty on her part? Did she do it just to hurt you, as you're trying to do to her?"

"No, it was just something that… came about."

"Don't continue this, Mister Craven. It will destroy you in the end. You'll end up regretting it, and I should know. I'm the queen of regrets."

"Thank you for the kind advice, Catherine, but I'm quite sure I—"

"The answer is no. I won't be party to this. It's beneath even me, and that's saying something. Good day, Mister Craven."

She shut the door and Colin heard the lock engage with a loud click. He stood there utterly dumbfounded for a full minute before shame flooded him. He'd just been put in his place by a whore. Rage quickly chased his shame away, and he stalked off, lips pursed and blood boiling. He had never stricken a woman but in that moment he would have had trouble controlling his hand. Walking swiftly through the cobbled streets and dark corridors, Colin resolved to find a woman, some woman, any woman, to bring with him to the party. Mary deserved to have her prissy party ruined, always acting a little princess. Misselthwaite was his, or would be once his father passed. His! Not hers. And he could evict her from the manor along with her precious, filthy garden boy. He would be the Lord of the Manor, the one in control. No one could defy him then.

The air grew dank as he walked on, and as he passed a pub the door opened and the scent of ale caught his attention. The loud laugher of patrons within flooded into the street, drawing him in. He'd told his father he'd given up drink, but what would it hurt just once more? Just one more pint, or maybe two. No one would have to know.

Colin pushed past a few people gathered in the doorway and took a seat at the bar. He felt oddly at home amidst the cacophony around him. Ordering a pint, he looked around the smoky room and found a card game in progress. Maybe he could get in on it and make some quick money. The night was still young.

He flashed a fistful of money at the players and a burly older man in a bowler hat and shifty eyes pulled up a chair for him. Colin didn't care that the players looked shady. He didn't care that poker wasn't even his strongest game. He didn't care about much at all beyond drowning himself in ale and having a little fun, preferably at the expense of others. He never realized how close he would come to never seeing Mary, or anyone for that matter, again.

A/N Sorry for such a wee tiny chapter. More to come soon, my lovelies.