With that she left.
Katherine tried to breathe, but the air wouldn't fill her lungs fast enough. Short gasps came out until finally she fell to her knees on the ground, still gasping for air.
"Katherine!" Benedict ran to her side, scooped her into his arms, and pushed open the doors to the first room on the right, one of the salons. "Katherine?"
Benedict had never felt so angry and afraid in his entire life. Angry at Maria, angry at himself, angry at his past, and afraid that Katherine was now lost forever. How could she trust him? How could she know that the other women meant nothing? That Maria had literally attacked him in his own home? Beating his chest until Marsail had to pull her from his body?
"Katherine?" He touched her face, then her chest. "Breathe, just breathe, in and out, slowly now. There you go, slowly."
Finally, after a few minutes, her breathing slowed.
And then the tears came.
Shame twined through him like an insidious vine. He wanted to die.
In fact, his gaze kept returning to the pistol hanging over the fireplace.
"Please, please don't cry." He wiped her tears, but he was too slow in catching all of them. Benedict rocked her in his arms. She was trembling.
"Nothing happened. She is mad, Katherine. Do you understand? I would never do that to you, ever. You must believe me."
She didn't say a word, merely cried a little more, then pulled herself from his lap and set her skirts to rights. "I'm ready for the ball now."
"You can't be serious?"
"I am. My parents will expect me."
He moved to grab her arm, but she pulled back. Trust was a thing of the past, if it had ever been there in the first place. And in return, he noticed the sparkle die in her eyes, and he knew he was the cause as well as the cure. She just needed time.
He patted his coat pocket to be sure he had remembered to take the note Agatha had left him. It was there.
But she was not. His heart stuttered in his chest as his throat tightened with sadness.
He needed her now, needed her wisdom and guidance on how to proceed. But all he could think that she might say would be to fight. So fight he would. Wordlessly, they left the house. And wordless they both remained for the entire journey to the Kringle Ball.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Note
Katherine had already decided to forgive Benedict. Though he did have some explaining to do, she realized one very important thing.
She didn't want to live her life in fear.
She loved him so much that she wasn't sure she could face life without him. Katherine just wanted his love in return, as well as his loyalty. The only reason she doubted him was because of what she had seen with her eyes, not what she felt with her heart.
Fear had ruled her decisions with him, and she was much happier when she didn't feed it. When she allowed her trust in Benedict and in herself to make sound decisions, to lead her to happiness, fear dissipated.
So as Benedict helped her out of the carriage, she looked up at the starry sky and then back at the man she would soon call husband. She offered him something, something she had been waiting to give to him at midnight.
"Wait." She stopped him.
He looked miserable, as if someone had just announced the world was going to end.
"I have a gift for you."
"I-I don't need a gift," he stuttered. "Just you. I hope you understand my love for you."
Katherine stomped on his foot. Truly the nerve of the man, beating her to the punch!
"What the—? What was that for?" He cursed and began hopping.
"I was going to say that, you cad!"
"What?" He cursed again, ripely. "Apparently pain is blocking my ability to think. You were going to say what?"
"That I love you!" She threw her hands up in the air. She had wanted to say it first, to offer it to him as a gift so he knew she trusted him, wanted to belong to him. "Men!" she screamed at nobody in general, though a few women walking up the stairs began to clap.
"I'm sorry?" he offered, then backed up, no doubt afraid she would somehow wound him again.
"Well…" She crossed her arms. "I imagine it's fine. The moment's gone now."
"Can't you say it, at least for my benefit? You have nearly broken my foot."
"If I was aiming to break it, I would have."
"Oh, how true that is," Benedict muttered.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." Katherine managed a small smile and hooked her arm within his. "Let's go indoors before your toes freeze off as well."
He smiled and patted her arm. "I'm sorry about tonight, about Maria and…"
Katherine stopped walking. "Let us not speak of it again, agreed?"
"Agreed." His brow furrowed deeply, but he didn't speak. Instead he escorted her into the Kringle Ball with a confused look etched across his ducal countenance. Benedict's eyes narrowed, but he did not say a word.