head. How had she managed to attach her affections to a man even more obsessed with his cause than either her father or her husband?
A low knock sounded, and Catherine stiffened. She hastily wiped her eyes and tucked the missive away. At the door, she asked, “Yes?”
“May I come in, daughter?”
Catherine patted her cheeks and hair and ran her hands down the front of her dress before unlocking the door. Brown eyes, not dissimilar from Catherine’s own, rounded at the sight of her daughter’s ravaged face. Her mother rushed forward, slamming the door closed behind her and enfolding Catherine in her arms.
“Oh, daughter,” her mother whispered. “All will be set to rights.”
The warmth, the security, and the familiar scent of gardenias in her mother’s embrace propelled Catherine back to her adolescence. The traitorous tears came faster. “It’s too much.”
“No, it’s not.” Her mother clasped her tighter. “You have a strong spirit, one that will see you through this and many more challenges in the years to come. Do not give in to the fear. Sup from it, draw strength from it. Then vanquish it.”
Catherine pulled away, swiping at her face. “Silas admitted to attacking Lord Somerton and killing Meghan McCarthy.”
“Dear God.”
“There’s so much at stake, Mother. One wrong word or one erroneous act, and I could lose my mother and daughter and the man I—” The damning words stuck to the back of her throat.
Keen-witted woman that she was, her mother offered, “The man you love?”
Closing her eyes, Catherine fought back a wave of shame. “Caught in my own tangled web.” She drew in a deep breath and stepped away as an unaccountable chill settled in her bones.
“Do not be so harsh on yourself, daughter,” her mother admonished. “Given the circumstances, you were left with few choices. As for you falling in love with his lordship,” she propped her hands on her hips, “many a male neighbor and traveler has tried to seduce you into their beds over the last few years, with no success. So I suspect there’s something rather special about Lord Somerton, or you would have sent him to the devil with all the rest.”
Using her fingertips, Catherine placed pressure on each throbbing temple. “For years, I viewed Lord Somerton as a cold, reclusive man with little interest in his country estate.”
“And now?” her mother asked.
“Now, I see that he is everything I was certain he wasn’t.” She thought of his kindnesses toward Sophie, his sense of urgency with the tenants and the various repairs, and his unwavering determination to find Meghan McCarthy. And then there was the way he had ripped away her loneliness with a single, passionate kiss. “Even so,” she wrapped her arms around her middle, “I will never go back to my former half-life. For years, I wondered what horrible thing I had done or hadn’t done to cause Sophie to lose her father. All those worries and recriminations were for nothing. I suffered years of useless guilt. Never again.”
Catherine halted her monologue long enough to draw in a calming breath. “This might sound selfish, but I’m beyond caring. I want a gentleman who will put me—and my daughter—above all else. Someone who will love me and stay by my side, no matter how badly I vex him.”
Her mother’s smile was a mixture of pride and sorrow. “As you should, daughter.”
Catherine did not know how to ease her mother’s past regrets. “Mother, we must all begin anew.” Catherine squeezed her mother’s hand. “Let us put the past to rest.”
Her mother peered down at their joined hands, saying nothing. Then her free hand covered Catherine’s. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do believe you’re right.” With her normal fortitude, her mother collected herself. “The seed is planted?”
Nodding, Catherine asked, “Did you pass Silas outside my door?”
“No,” her mother said. “Nor did I see him lingering outside the nursery.”
Silas’s unusual behavior and Mrs. Clarke’s tear-stained face made Catherine uneasy. “I’m so torn. I need to convey Silas’s confession to Lord Somerton, but I also wonder if I should forego visiting him tonight.”
“Why is that, dear?”
“Our unwanted guests appear out of sorts, don’t you think?”
“Not anymore than normal, but I haven’t seen either one since before you left for Bellamere’s stables.” Her mother glanced at the closed door. “If you stay, you take the risk of agitating Silas. He doesn’t seem the type one should provoke.”
Catherine recalled the man’s twitching eye, awful smile, and vile confessions and decided her mother was correct. “I suppose, though my stomach