"He did. When he was ten years old, and it shattered him." She turned to face Catherine, expression earnest. "I've seen the way he looks at you. The fact that he touches you is a miracle. We were taught not to show emotions, not to touch in public. He cares about you deeply and is fiercely protective." She hesitated briefly. "We don't know how to love, and I can see that you're in love with him. All I'm asking is that you're patient with him. He'll hurt you along the way, but you're the only woman he has ever felt even a modicum of emotion for, and that's saying a lot."
Catherine inclined her head and smiled whimsically. "I haven't told him yet, but I think he suspects I'm in love with him. I wouldn't have agreed to marry him otherwise. I'm very patient, have to be since I teach four and five-year-olds every day." She touched Irene's hand briefly.
"I'm happy you felt confident sharing your story with me, and I will say this: it's up to you to make a difference in your life. No one else can or is supposed to. Parents, or people on the whole, disappoint us. We cannot seek happiness from someone else. We have to find it within us. You have been through a tremendous amount of trauma that no child is supposed to face, but you have life and it's time to do things your way." She glanced at her watch. "I'm afraid I'm running late."
"One more thing before you go." This time it was Irene who hesitated. "Mother is a formidable force and a powerful enemy to have. She would have wanted someone malleable for Dean's wife; someone she could easily influence. In her own twisted way, she loves Dean and considers him her favorite. Perhaps it's because he looks so much like her. She also knows he holds her in utter contempt and is afraid of being excluded from his life. She will see you as a threat. I'm asking you to watch your back."
Ignoring the sliver of alarm that slid through her, Catherine nodded. "I don't scare easily, but thanks for the warning. Now, I really have to go." She started to open the door and stopped. "I would like you to be my attendant, if you don't mind."
Irene's face lit up with pleasure. "I would consider it my pleasure."
"Good." Catherine grinned at her. "You get to choose your own dress. I know how awful it can be when a dress is chosen for you. You have carte blanche on the color and style."
"Whew!" Irene blew out a breath. "With my coloring I tend to look sallow if I'm not careful. Thanks, Catherine. And welcome to the family."
*****
"Are you going to tell me or should I consider dragging it out of you?"
They were sitting out on the porch where she had put a table so they could enjoy the lovely spring evening and watch Galahad chase squirrels. The chicken Alfredo had been consumed, and she had brought out the coffee and sponge cake she had made the day before.
"How would you accomplish that?" she asked curiously as she sipped her brew. "Waterboarding or putting screws under my fingernails?"
His glower had her lips twitching. It amazed her how much of a routine they had developed in such a brief time. Less than two months ago, he was a stranger to her and now he had become the most important person in her life. She did not see him as the former playboy, maybe because she knew what had prompted his former destructive behavior. He was attentive and patient with her and, as his sister had remarked earlier, he was fiercely protective. He might not know it yet, but he was in love with her.
"Catherine, please answer the question."
She was relaxed, the porch swing moving rhythmically. He was seated next to her, one hand thrown over the back, fingers touching her shoulder.
"I do love it when you speak to me in that authoritative tone. It makes me all shivery and warm."
His eyes narrowed at her effort to evade the question. "I'm not going to stop until you answer me, even if it takes all night." He stretched his long legs out, the expression on his face resolute.
Abandoning her flippancy with a sigh, she rolled her eyes at him. It took a supreme effort on his part not to just snatch her against him. All day he had been in a frenzy of worry that his mother would say something that would have her change her mind about marrying him.
"She tried her best to belittle me." She shrugged. "Kept mentioning the fact that I'm marrying a Collier and what that entails."
"Which is?" he asked tightly.
"Money, power, a different society from what I'm used to. I told her that if she didn't behave, we would be zipping off to Vegas to get married there."
His eyes widened at that and the spurt of admiration he felt for her filled his chest. "You actually said that."
She nodded, dimples peeking out. "You should have seen the look on her face." Her levity disappeared. "I don't want her for an enemy. She's going to be my mother-in-law, and I would love it if we could somehow get along."
Putting his cup down, he took hers and put it aside before drawing her towards him.
"You can try, but I'm here to tell you it would be a wasted effort," he told her gently.
"I don't have enemies," she insisted.
He sent her an amused glance. "You cannot have everyone liking you. It's just not realistic."
"I know that." She sounded a little snippy and he had to resist the urge to chuckle. Her expression was so intense, so serious that it forced him to be as well. "But she's your mother."
"She was never a mother," he refuted coldly. "She wasn't cut out to be one. I discovered that a long time ago and am fine with it."
"You think you are." Her hand lifted to his cheek, touch gentle. "She's your mother no matter what and deep down you love her."