My pride?Quin quelled the thought and addressed the butler. “No, but I was hoping I might impose upon Lady Catherine for a moment.”
The butler gave a nod, then moved to the side to allow Quin to enter. “If you’ll follow me, Your Grace. I’ll show you to the green parlor while I announce your presence.”
Quin shadowed the man to a different room than he’d been in just prior and took a seat.
After the butler left, Quin’s knee bounced restlessly. Irritated with himself, he rose and walked to the window facing the street. He silently rehearsed how he would offer his apology.
“Your Grace.” Catherine’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Upon turning, he noted her posture—shoulders back. Her expression wasn’t angry, but she was certainly bracing herself for something. Curious, he paused to study her before offering a greeting.
Without hesitating further, he stepped forward. “Lady Catherine, thank you for seeing me…again.”
She held up a hand as if to stop him from moving closer. “I owe you an apology, Your Grace.”
Quin held up his hand to stop her. “You most certainly do not. However, I do owe one to you.”
Catherine’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came, and Quin seized the opportunity. Placing his hands behind his back, he changed directions and walked to the left.
“You were right, and I owe you the apology for giving you something I won’t accept from others.” He turned to her. “I would, rather, like to be your friend, Lady Catherine. A give-and-take on both our parts, no pity involved, simply…equality,” he finished.
Catherine studied him, her eyes narrowing as if trying to read between the lines. “Thank you,” she replied, her hands twisting as if she was anxious. “However, I still do need to offer my own apology. I should not have attacked your kind offer, for I know you made it with the right heart.” She shrugged one shoulder. “You dislike pity as much as I do, so I can deduce that you would not offer it to others knowingly. That much of your character is clear, Your Grace.”
“Apology accepted, on one condition,” Quin offered with a tentative and hopeful tone.
“And what is that?” Catherine inquired.
“For the love of God, please do not call me ‘Your Grace.’ It’s nearly as bad as pity,” he answered honestly.
She paused, then a dimple in her cheek gave away the amusement that danced across her lips a moment later. “Agreed.”
“And what of my apology? Is it accepted?” Quin asked.
“Accepted,Quin.” She emphasized his name, the amusement and approval still evident on her features.
“Brilliant. And what about my offer of friendship? Do you think that might be accepted as well?” he asked, a taunt to his tone.
She sighed dramatically. “If I must. I rather think you’ll just force the matter if I don’t readily accept it.”
“You’re learning.”
“I try,” she returned. “It will be nice to have a friend. One who…knows.” She sobered.
“Indeed. My sentiments exactly.” He nodded once, then turned to the window. “It’s still quite lovely outside. Would you care to take a stroll? Perhaps visit the park?” he offered.
Catherine nodded. “I’d be delighted. Should I ask my grandmother to accompany us?”
“Wouldn’t she come regardless?” he asked mischievously.
“Indeed. But it’s always nice to be invited.”
“A good point,” he conceded.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return in a few minutes.” Catherine gave a slight nod of her head and quit the room, presumably to invite her grandmother on their outing.
Quin nodded to himself as a sense of resolution filled him. It was done, the fences mended.
In short order, they were sampling the fresh air. The Greatheart residence was only a short walk from Hyde Park, and the lovely spring weather made each step a delight. Quin assumed a more leisurely gait to accommodate the ladies, not minding the slower pace.