He tapped his chin, thinking. He’d…invite her here, to his family estate. No talk could start over her visiting the Duchess of Wesley, and if Quinhappenedto be there, all the better. But that meant he’d have to inform his mother, who would in turn have many questions.
All of which he didn’t particularly wish to answer.
But there was nothing else to be done. He needed to clear the air about today, and he needed to remind Catherine that she wasn’t alone for whatever the future held, especially with Bircham’s imminent arrival.
His plan wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. So with a final swallow of the remainder of his brandy, he left his study in search of his mother.
Catherine had found in her a worthy ally.
Perhaps it was time for him to do the same.
Twenty-two
I cannot live one day without love.
—Catherine the Great
Catherine bit her lip as she read the letter from her solicitor. Lord Bircham was en route to London, which meant she was to meet him soon.
Lord Bircham: the man who would have stewardship of her estate while her grandmother walked the line between here and heaven.
Catherine inhaled deeply, then closed her eyes. The unknown…it was so overwhelming. Just when she’d had a moment of delight, something that consumed all her thoughts, this happened, threatening to steal the joy she’d found.
She pushed the letter from her and then decided that wasn’t enough. She grabbed it and stuffed it in a drawer and walked away, as if the distance would make it less powerful in her mind.
Her attention wandered for a distraction, and it landed on the neat little pile of books she’d borrowed from the Duchess of Wesley’s library. In doing so, she found the joy she’d nearly abandoned.
Quin.
She gave a disbelieving touch to her lips, tracing them, imagining. Reliving it. It wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed. Wesley had kissed her several times. But it had always been measured, careful, as if he might break her. But Quin…Quin had kissed her without reservation.
And she hadn’t broken like some glass doll. Rather, she’d felt stronger, as if she rose to the occasion and met him there.
She walked over to the pile of books and lifted one; she slid a finger down the edge of the binding and flipped it over to find her place.
That she felt something for him was true, but she wouldn’t force him into action simply because of her own emotions. She decided it was best to follow his lead. See where it took them. After all, he was certainly capable of offering for her himself, regardless of the gossip that would likely surround them. She shuddered at the thought. It would be worth it. Surely, he’d be in attendance at Lady Winstead’s ball. Maybe he’d ask her for a dance. Maybe a waltz?
She soaked up the thought, then settled down with the book, intent on enjoying a few hours of reading.
She was only three pages in when Brooks knocked on the parlor door. “My lady, there is a gentleman to see you. I told him you were not taking callers, but he insisted I give you his card.” Brooks held out the silver tray; a small square of parchment rested there with a name printed on it.
PERCIVAL ARMSTRONG, BARON BIRCHAM
Well, that hadn’t taken long. Lord Bircham must have made her his first visit in London. Odd.
Catherine frowned at the slip of a card. “Even if he is my cousin, I cannot see him without a proper chaperone.”
She returned to her book. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t broken propriety before, but she wasn’t about to bend the rules for the person who was likely intent on enforcing all of them for her.
“He has a lady with him.”
Catherine nodded, then hesitated. “Show them in.”
It was better to get this out of the way. She could study him, get a first impression that might serve her well later. If he was this impatient to meet her, that could work in her favor. He was likely tired from his trip, and his demeanor could be less protected, revealing more of the man within.
Brooks paused, his salt-and-pepper brows knitted. The parting of his lips let her know he wanted to question her words, but Catherine gave a decisive nod.
“I’ll be waiting right outside the door, my lady.” Brooks gave her a level stare. “With a few footmen.”