“The pleasure was all mine.” She then turned her attention to his mother, who had just found her seat.
Quin took his place as well, noting the way Lady Greatheart and Lady Catherine engaged his mother in conversation. It had been some time since he’d seen his mother enjoy herself so readily in company, without forcing an engaging nature. He would have expected it to be harder for her to see Wesley’s once-betrothed, for that to bring up painful memories, but it seemed to do the opposite; rather, it seemed healing.
For both of them.
Odd.
Maybe the truth wasn’t just surviving but finding a new path that hadn’t been open before, perhaps one that had been intended for him all along. Death had a way of closing doors but opening others. He only wished he knew which doors were opening and which path he should take.
Four
If you feel unhappy, then place yourself above that and act so that your happiness does not get to be dependent on anything.
—Catherine the Great
Catherine could feel the attention of the room centered on her. Though most of the ladies appeared to be conversing, sipping their soup, or taking a delicate swallow of wine, in truth they were watching her from the corners of their eyes. Their posture was attentive, and if she moved too quickly or spoke too loudly, the facade of their inattention fell and they would glance in her direction. It was distracting at the least, and overwhelmingly stifling at the same time. As if sensing her distress, her grandmother reached under the table and placed a soft hand at her knee, squeezing tightly.
“We had a lovely day today, didn’t we, dear?” Her grandmother directed a question to her, and Catherine snapped her focus to the Duchess of Wesley. Nodding first, she then forced her full attention on the woman who once was to be her mother-in-law.
“Yes, it was a fine day, and we took in a bit of sunshine.” Catherine was careful to leave out that they had ordered dresses for the season, feeling such a revelation might not be welcome.
“Did you know that blossom is this season’s color?” Lady Greatheart interjected into the conversation, causing a flush of heat to creep up Catherine’s neck, surely making her cheeks pink.
Leave it to her grandmother to mention the very thing she wished to remain a secret.
“Oh! I had heard, but is it the same weak and watery shade of pink, what was it? Three years ago?” The Duchess of Wesley clucked her tongue. “That color did no one any favors.”
“Agreed. And no, this year’s is more of a rose pink.”
Catherine studied the Duchess of Wesley, noting the way she took the subtle communication of their shopping for the season—meaning potential husband hunting—without a single sign of disapproval or shock.
Was everyone moving on? Wasn’t it too quick? Yet at the same time, her fiancé’s death felt like a lifetime ago.
She wasn’t the same person who had celebrated her engagement with the late Duke of Wesley. Pain changed people, and she was no exception. A warm hand touched hers, pulling her from the deep thoughts.
“Blossom is a lovely color and I do believe will be well suited for you, my dear.” The Duchess of Wesley nodded, her expression one of resolve and intention. Her words were heavy with implication, but as she glanced away and squeezed her napkin uncommonly tight, it was clear that the words had also come at a cost.
Didn’t everything come with a price?
Catherine nodded. “Thank you, I’m not sure I’m suited for anything at the moment,” she added softly.
The Duchess of Wesley gave a single nod; as her eyes lifted, she had understanding in her expression.
Thankfully, Catherine was saved from lingering on what had just been communicated silently between them.
“I was so thankful to receive your kind invitation. You’ll have to forgive me for not accepting it sooner,” Lady Greatheart remarked.
“It’s quite diverting, and with all this rain, it’s nice to do something of an amusing nature,” the duchess agreed.
“Ah yes, agreed. We said the same to…” Lady Greatheart paused, her brow furrowing.
Catherine regarded her grandmother; it wasn’t often she paused midsentence. Lady Greatheart cast a furtive glance to Quin, who was taking a sip of wine.
He set his glass down and happened to meet her wary expression.
“Ahh, you saw my son today.” The Duchess of Wesley nodded, the movement garnering Catherine’s attention.
Relieved, Catherine released the tension she had been holding. It wasn’t often that her grandmother made a faux pas, and when it happened, most just forgave her trespass based on her age or rank. But this time, the gossip would have spun wildly. It was going to be enough that they were attending her former fiancé’s dinner party, but if her grandmother had slipped and called Quin by his Christian name, and others hadheard…the rumor mill would have gone into fits. Such familiarity was unconventional at best. And in society where rumors were traded as currency, it would have been potentially disastrous. On the other hand, calling Quin by his title, to those close to the situation, was painful. And could cause undue pain to the Duchess of Wesley. It was a quagmire of problems no matter how one looked at it. And one couldn’t discount the overeager ears of those at the table, those that were doing their best to seem unconcerned. Catherine knew any interesting news would be all over London by morning.