offset their money, while the Marlbrook’s merely required a mother to sire grandchildren and heirs. The match was suitable and would benefit everyone.
Lady Catherine had worked tirelessly during the last London winter to find a bride for her son, scanning the crowds of debutantes that were, for the most part, of no consequence.
“Of course , Henry will not take up residence until his marriage date draws near but that event grows closer,” her Ladyship continued .
Cynicism had crept into Lady Catherine ’s voice, and Laura’s own experiences of Lord Henry added background to her cause.
Lady Catherine did not share her afterthought with Laura, which included the women and the gambling that were constant companions of her son, habits she held doubts he would renounce in marriage.
“Laura. Do you feel how this house demands care? How it lures you with its grandeur? Money and power call for total dedication, and we were all unprepared.”
Aged eyes steeled themselves to look into the past. The faint stoop was gone, a rigid backbone taking its place. Lady Catherine was not as senile as she sometimes led her followers to believe.
Tales of intrigue had been woven into the fabric of Marlbrook with few generations having escap ed unscathed. Perhaps the sheer magnitude of their wealth claimed some form of payment? Lady Catherine had been called upon to make hers.
Lady Catherine had feelings for her husband , given the circumstances, but in all honesty it had been his home that had consumed her with passion. And over the years, it had been Marlbrook that had kept her sane when all around her faltered.
Marlbrook’s b ygone generations had looked to Lady Catherine to save their heritage, and she had undergone some bitter lessons in fulfilling their bidding. Her eyes spoke memories of what the real cost had been, sorrow being a cross that manifests itself in many forms.
The trial the heavens had designated she suffer had denied her children. Imperative to the survival of Marlbrook , the weight of carrying out her duty had been oppressive and she had nearly collapsed under the strain.
A family of the ruling class did not tolerate barrenness, especially a family that could trace its foundations to the very emergence of England . However , her secret did not warrant special treatment , not when compared with the losses that might have resulted.
A clandestine production, enacted behind closed doors, had yielded the desired outcome and she had been the principal player. Her father-in-law had bedded her and given her a son. Lady Catherine did not fear condemnation from her husband , for he had been a knowing conspirator. His father had not molested her nor had he used physical constraints to gain access to her body ; he had simply impressed upon her the meaning of obligation and duty.
Jubilation at the arrival of an heir had been tempered by the certainty that there would be no more children. She would not endure a second degradation. However, the decision had been moot . Three months later , her father-in-law had died, his attendant years at an end. She had sacrificed her husband for the child and he, her ; the house , the silent beneficiary.
Nature had instigated her ordeals, and Lady Catherine would query until the day she died why her husband had fathered a child with his mistress but had failed her. Cruelty comes in many guises but suffering was always the same.
Secrets abounded in Marlbrook and weighed heavily upon Lady Catherine ’s mind ; silence was the price she had to pay.
Nowadays , Lady Catherine attempted to pass some of her insights to Laura, schooling her on the wisdom that comes with age.
Lady Catherine ’s obligations neared an end. Her son had agreed to take a bride . S oon the house would be full of her grandchildren that she unashamedly looked forward to spoiling.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - The Return
Sarah