She did not have an answer for that.
“Your sisters will need to be introduced eventually. Madeline has a Season to salvage. Selina has a debut to make. Every whisper about this marriage reflects on them directly.” He paused. “You know this already.”
Tristan was right. Although a part of her believed that there was no saving their reputation after the scandalous way thetonfound them in the churchyard, staying quiet was giving in. It was telling everyone that they were right. Madeline, Portia, and Selina needed their eldest sister to do the right thing, to promote them in society despite what their father did to them.
What was holding her back?
It was him. The very thought of being close to him in a crowded ballroom felt suffocating. She would not be able to escape his scent and heat, not when people were watching them. Thetonwould be eager to inspect every flinch and startle.It would be difficult to deal with everyone else when she would be trying not to react to his mere presence.
However, he was right. They needed to be out in society as a united front.
“You are right,” she said at last, with as little resignation in her voice as she could manage. She picked up her toast again and looked at it rather than at him. “We must go.”
“That was considerably easier than I expected,” he said.
“We must do what we must do,” she said, trying to take away the resignation from her voice.
Chapter 13
Agreeing to do something did not mean that Cathy would enjoy the whole affair. Of course not. However, the evening itself brought other troubles she had not anticipated. She had never been prone to anxiety, but her hands were cold when she watched herself before the mirror in her bedchambers, minutes before departure. Her midnight blue dress was supposed to highlight her eyes, and the dark colors were supposed minimize her imposing height. She wore the sapphires and diamonds Tristan bought her. With the gown and the jewels, she looked like a duchess, as she should. However, her heart still trembled in her chest. She feared that appearances alone were not enough to please theton.
“You look magnificent, Your Grace,” Lottie reassured, as she pinned one last diamond into Cathy’s hair.
“Magnificent, or easy target?” Cathy asked grimly. “Be honest, Lottie.”
“Your Grace, they would only be jealous if they said anything cruel,” said the loyal maid.
Cathy was grateful for that little support. She was not used to having a lady’s maid, and she found the company quite pleasant. If only thetondid not ask for too much from each person in the realm.
When she descended the stairs, Tristan was already waiting in his full evening dress. He stood by the foyer, fixing his cravat one more time. There was nothing wrong with it. As usual, he was the picture of perfection. She wondered if he was aware of how people saw him.How people would mock him for showing up with Miss Priggish at his side.
“Shall we depart?” she asked, as she tried to walk daintily down the steps.
He looked up at her, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. His nose flared. He quickly regained his composure, though.
When Cathy was at the bottom of the steps, he offered his arm and asked, “Are you ready to face the lions?”
“Are you telling me that those are lions?” she retorted, taking his arm. “Don’t you think wolves would be more accurate? While I understand trials in the lions’ den, these people would not allow a true trial.”
“It is the Inquisition, really,” huffed Tristan, shaking his head in disbelief.
It is an ordeal that he certainly would not have to endure if he had not married me,Cathy thought bitterly.
“We will not bleed for them, Your Grace,” she said, even as she focused on ensuring her fingers were not trembling as they grazed the fine fabric of her husband’s coat.
“You are fierce enough for them,” Tristan replied.
Cathy took the compliment. She was too occupied by other thoughts, like how they would last hours under such close scrutiny.
Upon arrival, the Duke and Duchess of Baxter were properly announced. The sights, sounds, and smells overwhelmed Cathy. Intoxicating perfumes, dazzling gowns, and shimmering lights surrounded her. She could also hear the difference between the before and after of their arrival, with the odd silence punctuating the latter.
After that brief shock, whispers cascaded from one end to the other. Cathy tried her best to keep her posture straight. Without even meaning to, her Miss Priggish walls rose around her. Still, she had never been this scrutinized when she was still an unmarried spinster with a wastrel father. Now, it seemed that thetonenjoyed watching her from head to toe, some even doing the inspection slowly to emphasize her height.
“Stay close to me,” Tristan murmured, his hand gently but firmly covering hers on his arm.
Cathy reminded herself that the gesture was meant for their wide-eyed spectators, but she could still feel its warmth. The whole thing almost felt tender; it made her want to cry.
No, she would not cry in front of these people. Never.