She forced her attention back to her grandmother, who had jumped on the Duchess of Wesley’s words. “Yes, we happened to run into him in Hyde Park.”
“So, my son pulled himself away from his lectures and books long enough to take in the air? This is news to me.” The Duchess of Wesley gave a pointed expression aimed at her son. “He’s not at Cambridge University for the time being, but one would think he were still actively teaching.”
Upon hearing her words, Quin smirked. “Ah, I take your advice, and now I’m harassed for it? How does that seem fair?”
“It is not.”
“And I’m assuming you care not for such a bias,” Quin replied, his amusement growing as he pestered his mother.
“You’re correct in your assumption.” The Duchess of Wesley bobbed a curt nod, causing a single dimple to wink in her cheek.
It was good, healing even, to see them banter a bit. On the occasions when Catherine had dined with Wesley and his family, it had been clear that they all held a fondness for one another. They were cheeky and smart-witted with a good dose of humor and love underlying their repartee. She wondered how long it had been since they had eased back into their old ways. Probably too long.
“We must have just missed you, Your Grace,” Lady Freemon interjected. “We were enjoying the park today as well. It was quite busy.”
Catherine watched as Quin directed his attention to Lady Freemon, nodding in response to her statement. “I must confess I was merely using the park as a shortcut, so my amble through it was quite brief. I’m sorry to have missed you, Lady Freemon.”
Lady Freemon nodded, accepting his complimentary words, her attention sliding to her daughter beside her as if accepting them as proof of his interest.
Catherine could see the hunger for Quin’s title on the faces of those at the table. How had Wesley described it?
It had been a topic of conversation once, long ago…
They had been speaking of titles and family, and he leaned against the stone wall they were walking beside. His blue eyes danced, then they took on a contemplative expression. “Titles, you know… They make the most terrible man desirable and the most desirable man terrible.”
She frowned, curious regarding what point he was trying to make.
“Catherine, you are marrying into a title, not the title. There’s a difference. Most people don’t see that, they just see the title and not the man behind it.” He pushed off from the wall and grasped her chin softly. “And that’s why I’m thrilled to marry you…not your name, your dowry…you.”
The memory flooded Catherine, stealing her air. Everything was too close, too familiar. The walls of the room closed in, inch by inch, as she struggled to take in the oxygen, knowing it was just in her head. An illusion, but her chest was tight. Her hands tingled, her eyes stung, and yet she was frozen, unable to move. Willing her focus to shift, she was able to make eye contact with her grandmother.
Lady Greatheart’s eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly made an excuse, grasping Catherine’s arm with a fortitude that gave away her grandmother’s fear. Catherine leaned into the strength of her grandmother’s hold and stood, closing her eyes as the edges of her vision grew dark on the perimeter. Placing one foot in front of another, she followed her grandmother out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Catherine found a nearby bench and all but collapsed.
“Ducky, ducky!” Lady Greatheart whispered loudly, her hands gripping Catherine’s chin. “Look at me!”
Catherine obeyed, each inhale labored, still seemingly unproductive.
“Stay with me, ducky. If you swoon now, it will be all over thetontomorrow. Stay with me.”
Catherine managed a nod.
“I’m going to find a maid, a footman—someone to get our carriage. Don’t. Move.” Lady Greatheart’s expression was fierce, and again Catherine nodded.
A short breeze let her know that Lady Greatheart had left, no doubt moving as quickly as possible. Catherine leaned back against the wall, inhaling deeply, listening to the sound of her racing heart, willing her body to calm. It was all in her mind.
But damn if it didn’t feel like she’d run clear to the Thames and back.
“Are you unwell?” A voice startled her, and she jumped. Green eyes watched her as Quin lowered himself to her eye level. His expression was concerned, but controlled. There wasn’t the edge of panic that was in her grandmother’s eyes, and it gave her strength.
She gave a weak shake of her head.
“Liar,” he accused. “But you’re brave. You might not be well right now, but you will be. Don’t forget that. Take in the air through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Focus on me. That’s it.” The words were spoken as a gentle but unyielding command.
Catherine latched onto his words like a lifeline, following his directions and focusing on his calming face.
“Good, feel that? Calm. Let your body take the air. Good.” He slowly inhaled through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth, and she matched his cadence, her body relaxing in the rhythm.
“Th-thank you,” Catherine managed.