Catherine was riddled with indecision. Part of her was bored to tears being inside; the other part was terrified to move past the safety of the walls surrounding her. Something had to change, and she wasn’t sure what it would be.
“If you sigh any more, you might hurt yourself.” Lady Greatheart lifted her attention from her needlepoint. “Idle hands, dear. You can always make an effort. Your needlepoint is still awaiting your stitches.” Her grandmother nodded to the blue velvet chair where Catherine’s floral needlepoint was lying.
“It’s so dull.”
“Get a sharper needle.”
Catherine gave her grandmother a wry expression.
“Oh, ducky, you need to take a moment. You’re unhappy inside and you’re unhappy outside… You know what that tells me?”
Catherine opened her mouth to answer, but her grandmother responded before she could comment.
“That means it’s you. It’s not your situation, it is what is taking place within your heart.” Lady Greatheart set her needlepoint aside. “I’m not saying you don’t have a good reason for feeling as you do, but sometimes it helps to know what the problem is, and in this case it’s in your heart.”
“How comforting,” Catherine replied with veiled sarcasm and moved to the chair to lift her needlepoint. She sat and traced the lines of the embroidery with her fingertips. “I know you’re correct, though.”
“I usually am.”
Catherine gave a soft huff. “Regardless, I’m not sure how to fix it. My focus was all courage and determination the other day, and then as the hours went on, I found that my strength failed me. And then last night… Good Lord, what a disaster. I just lost my wits.” She lowered her head, closing her eyes. “It was just so hard, and then add in all those ladies watching me. I couldfeeltheir attention. It was terrible.”
“Oh, ducky, you just noticed it yesterday. You’ve had that attention for longer than just one evening. Last year at your come-out, there wasn’t an eye that didn’t follow you in the ballroom.”
“Strange how a year can make a difference.”
“Exactly, but dear, it’s all in the perspective you keep. Last year, it elevated you. You held your head higher, walked with more confidence, and at the same time refused to put too much weight on others’ opinions. That’s one of the reasons you captured the eye of a duke.”
Catherine nodded, her mind drifting back to last summer. A warm sensation filled her chest. “I didn’t care what they thought. I mean, I did, but it wasn’t—”
“The deciding factor. And nothing’s changed, ducky. Just you. And the beauty of it all is that you can amend the way you see it. You can’t go back to the way things were, but you can go back to how you once saw the world.”
Catherine nodded as she absorbed her grandmother’s words.
“Pardon, my lady, but you have a caller.” Brooks had entered the parlor with a silver tray. He extended it to Lady Greatheart.
Catherine watched her grandmother’s expression shift into a welcoming one. “Well, see him in, Brooks. Oh, and please have tea and biscuits brought up immediately.”
“At your service, my lady.” The butler bowed and left to execute his mistress’s command.
“Who is calling?” Catherine asked, lifting her needle and pulling the thread taut to start a few stitches. One never wanted to appear idle in front of guests.
Lady Greatheart hitched a shoulder and lifted her needlepoint.
A moment before Catherine was going to repeat the question, she heard footsteps in the hall.
Clearly, there was nothing wrong with her grandmother’s hearing. Evidently, Lady Greatheart had heard the footsteps before she did.
Catherine made a few quick stitches so that she would appear relaxed and busy, then turned as the butler announced their guest. “My lady, His Grace the Duke of Wesley.” Brooks bowed and took his leave.
“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Greatheart.” Quin bowed to Catherine’s grandmother. “And you, Lady Catherine.” He turned his focus to her, his expression edged with concern. “How do you fare today?”
Good Lord, was her life to be one circus of that same litany? She tamped down her rather ungrateful feelings and settled for a nod. “Much improved. Thank you for your assistance last night.”
“It was my pleasure,” he answered, searching her expression as if to discern whether she was being fully honest. It was unnerving.
She lowered her eyes, hindering any further silent inquiry. “How was the remainder of the party?” Catherine asked after taking another stitch.
“First of all, have a seat, Quin. I’ve requested tea, and it will be here shortly.”