The driver pulled the car to a stop, and a doorman rushed to open the door. Catherine stepped out of the car and stared up at the massive stone house in front of her—it made Sean's estate look small. She stared at the high turrets and towers and realized she was looking at a castle.

"Madam, please, come this way," the doorman said.

​​

She took a deep breath and followed the man down a long cobblestone path lined with flowers into a large, bright courtyard. Roses climbed trellises on each wall of the courtyard, filling the place with a thick sweet smell. She swallowed and wiped her palms on her dress as she passed through the large wooden doors into the house.

Her mind raced, trying to remember everything she knew about the Blair family. Sarah had told her as much as possible before she got ready, but she felt like a lamb being led into a lion's den. She had a good memory, but the Blair family was notoriously secretive.

The doorman gestured for her to pass through a set of wood-paneled doors and disappeared down the hall. She ran her fingers through her hair and stepped into the room. In the center of the room, a set of matching sofas covered in deep green velvet surrounding a low wooden table. Sean's family sat on the sofas arranged like an oil painting.

"Good evening," she said, looking each person in the eyes. "I'm Catherine. It's very nice to meet you all."

On the sofa to the left sat Sean's older brother, his wife Amanda, and their four-year-old son Bentley. They stared at her with cool, bored expressions. On the sofa to the right, a woman in her late 70's sat perfectly straight—Catherine recognized her as Catherine Blair, Sean's grandmother. Her expression was serious and calm but not unkind. Next to her sat a middle-aged woman with dark dyed hair and a sour expression—Vivian, Sean's mother. Behind the sofas stood two young women. Catherine guessed that one was Sean's younger sister, but she wasn't sure who the other was.

"Please have a seat," Catherine said, her voice strong and clear.

Catherine crossed the room and settled onto the sofa. The family stared at her, and she fought the urge to fidget with her dress or look down at her hands. In the silence, she rehearsed everything she knew about them.

Catherine Blair was the matriarch of the family. According to Sarah, she was a fierce woman who had followed her young husband to the battlefield during the Second World War. Sean's father and brother had also served in the army and had been promoted to officers during their service. They were serious men who spoke little.

She shifted her attention to the girls standing behind the sofa. Sarah had said that Sean's sister Iris looked like Vivian. Based on their expressions, she guessed that the girl on the left was Iris. Her lips were pursed as if she sucked on a lemon, and her eyes were narrowed with hatred. The other girl was a mystery.

"It's good to see you at last," Catherine said. "I saw you on the wedding day, but you wore a veil. You're a very pretty girl."

"Thank you, ma'am," Catherine said.

"As I recall, you wear quite a lot of makeup," Vivian said.

Catherine forced a smile and nodded. Her face has been plastered with the stuff during the wedding to try to make the switch between her and Madison less noticeable. She glanced up at Iris and saw that the young woman was sneering. Irrationally, she found herself wishing Sean was there to shield her from his family.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak with you more on the wedding day," she said, wondering how much they knew about her failed escape. "It's really nice to have this time with you."

Catherine nodded, "Well said."

The rest of the family stared at her in silence. She took a deep breath and straightened her back. They were clearly trying to make her uncomfortable, but she wouldn't let them see her crack.

"The wedding day was such a blur, I want to make sure I've remembered you all clearly," she said. "You must be Amanda," she said to Sean's sister-in-law. She looked at the small squirming boy and said, "Which means you have to be the famous Bentley."

Bentley giggled and smiled shyly at her. She smiled back and turned to Catherine, "You're Sean's grandmother, of course," she said. She looked at Vivian and smiled slightly, "You must be Sean's mother, though you hardly look old enough."

"Don't patronize me," Vivian snapped.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Iris said.

"I've brought gifts for everyone," she said. "They're sentimental in nature, but I'm afraid I didn't know you had a guest staying with you."

"This is Pearl Johnson," Iris sniffed. "She's my best friend. We all grew up together, you know. She's one of Sean's closest friends too."

Catherine forced herself to continue smiling. The way Iris said "friends'' implied something different. She looked at Pearl, studying the girl's face. Pearl wore her thick, dark hair cropped in an angled bob that framed her elegant face. She had high cheekbones and dazzling green eyes, and she wore a daring splash of red lipstick across her pouting lips. She looked like a model.

"Nice to meet you," Pearl said, glaring at her.

"Nice to meet you too," Catherine said. "I'm looking forward to hearing all about your childhood with Sean. You must have some funny stories."

"Oh yes," Pearl said, her eyes narrowing. "He's practically a brother to me."

"I guess that makes us practically sisters," Catherine said. "I grew up with a brother, but I always wanted sisters—now I have two."

"That's quite silly," Vivian said.

"Well, you have to forgive her, Mum," Iris sneered. "She's just a child. Remind me, how old are you again?"

"I'm nineteen," Catherine said.

"Unbelievable," Iris sniffed. "Sean has gone and gotten himself a child bride—why you're younger than me!"

"I may be young, but I'm prepared to be a good wife to Sean," Catherine said.

"I'm sure you are dear," Catherine said, her pale blue eyes flashing.

"Hm," Vivian said. "Now remind me, what university are you attending in the fall?"

Catherine felt herself blush, "I haven't decided yet."

"I see," Vivian said. "And which universities admitted you? Perhaps we can offer recommendations. You know Iris is studying at King's College."

"Don't grill the poor girl," Catherine said.

"Grandmother is right," Iris said. "What if she wasn't admitted to any university? It would be so embarrassing for her to admit that in front of us."

Catherine bit her tongue hard. In her past life, she'd dealt with people far crueler than Iris, but the girl's barbs still stung. Silence descended on the room, and she took the chance to look around.

The walls were covered in dark wood panels, but tall windows with glazed glass let in the fading evening light. Large chandeliers sparkled on the ceiling, and dozens of family portraits lined the walls. A huge stone fireplace with carved shields and heraldic symbols dominated a corner.

Catherine shifted on the sofa, crossing her legs at the ankle. If the family didn't like her, it wasn't her problem. In fact, they might be able to convince Sean to divorce her. She smiled sweetly and waited for someone to say something.