“Was I misleading you?” Quin asked, pulling her attention from the blue sky.
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “No. Though you’re irritating to make me admit it.”
He chuckled, the sound warm to her ears. “Oh? I’m irritating now, am I?”
“Yes.” She arched a brow.
“How many days has it been since you left your house?” Quin asked, his expression questioning, his green eyes sparkling with triumph, knowing where his question would lead—to his being confirmed correct.
“You’re insufferable,” Catherine remarked, but her lips pulled at the corners in amusement. His arm brushed against hers as he snapped the ribbons. The innocent touch sent tingles along her skin, and in response, her heart skipped.
“I’ve been called worse.”
She turned to him. “It is hard to imagine. You’re polite to a fault, in every way a gentleman. I find it hard to believe you being called anything less.” She studied him curiously. His eyes crinkled slightly at the edges as he grinned, and she found it awfully endearing.
“I do not know if that was a compliment. Your words are kind, but your tone seems skeptical,” he pondered, leaning against the corner of the curricle, studying her.
His look was engaging, and his manner always set her at ease. In a world that held so much uncertainty, it was a welcome constant.
“I just can’t see you getting in trouble.” She shrugged. “And I fancy you will say that you can’t imagine me stayingoutof it,” she joked.
“You said it, not me,” he remarked. “And I’ve been in more than my share of mischief. Remember? I’m the younger brother,” he said, his eyes clouding.
“Ah, well, you have me at a disadvantage. I never had siblings, so the dynamic isn’t one that I’m familiar with.”
His smile displayed straight white teeth with a slight gap in the very front. “Imagine being able to irritate an older version of yourself just by following him around and copying his every move.”
She groaned. “It must be terrible for the elder sibling, but at least you were never lonely.”
“This much is true,” he conceded. “But trouble abounds. That is the point I’m trying to make.”
“Since I can’t refute your point, I’ll have to assume you are correct.”
His brows lifted. “I’m not sure what to do with such a victory,” he said. “You’re usually much more difficult to convince.”
She sniffed dramatically. “I like to think I’m humble enough to admit when I’m wrong, or otherwise.”
“Indeed,” was all he said in reply. His expression relaxed, his usual astute expression peaceful, and she had a quick vision of him running around as a boy, chasing things, carefree and without the weight he usually bore on his countenance. But life had a way of changing one. While he’d lost some of that weightlessness, he’d likely gained perspective and wisdom.
She knew she certainly had.
Which was why she’d not protested too much when he’d invited her out for a ride. And he had made a solid point: she hadn’t left the house in several days. After she checked on her grandmother and had been certain that an hour or so from her bedside wouldn’t see much alteration, Catherine had switched into a day dress and made her way to the front of the house.
The light of the sunshine filled her soul, warming her lap and the gloves on her fingers. She closed her eyes, soaking up the rays.
“Has there been any improvement?” Quin asked, his words piercing her thoughts.
She answered without opening her eyes. “No. She sleeps more than not, and when she wakes, she only whispers softly.” Catherine opened her eyes.
“I see. I’m sorry for that.”
“As am I, but time will hopefully bring healing.”
“Indeed.” His clothing whispered against the red brocade upholstery as he shifted on the seat. “I’ll be departing tomorrow for Cambridge.”
“Cambridge,” she repeated.
“Yes.” He nodded, not giving further details.