“Do you deny it, though?” Catherine asked with a lilt to her tone, entertained at her grandmother’s amusement.
“No. You’re right, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard a lady your age mention it, let alone realize it!” Lady Greatheart replied with mirth.
“It is! The flirting, the pandering, the waltzing, the guessing…good Lord.” Catherine reclined in her chair, her tone exasperated.
Lady Greatheart lifted a hand to still her granddaughter’s words. “The romance, the potential, the what-if, and the flirting with forever, my dear. Look at the beauty rather than the price.”
Catherine bit her lip, nodding once. “You are, of course, correct.”
“As usual.”
Catherine added, “And humble.”
“Always.”
“Are you quite finished?”
“Not nearly, but I’ll let you continue.” Her grandmother gave a flourish of her hand.
“How kind,” Catherine replied with a smirk. “You win. I’ll look at the beauty of the process rather than the effort required. And when…whenthe time comes, I’ll put forth an effort. But since that day is not today, we should most certainly have a lovely day outside of these walls.”
“I agree wholeheartedly, my dear. I’ll have the carriage ready in half an hour.”
The fresh breeze cleared the sooty air of Bond Street as Catherine and her grandmother leisurely shopped. They visited the Emporium for Ladies, purchasing several hand creams and a vial of rosewater, and looked in at a milliner’s. The day was lovely, even with the chill of the late February air, and seemed to call out to the Londonton, which meant that several inquiring stares followed Catherine and Lady Greatheart’s movements.
“Ignore them, ducky,” her grandmother whispered as they strolled in front of a shop.
In the reflection of the window, Catherine watched as a young couple eyed them in passing, then murmured soon after. Heat swelled in her cheeks. Were they questioning her mourning for her fiancé? It had been six months. Her bravery melted like sugar in hot tea, and more than anything, she wished to be home. But as another lady happened by, offering a wave, Catherine’s resolve strengthened. She wouldn’t let them dictate her future…or her feelings. It was idiotic, really, to live and die by their opinion when it was as fickle as the London rain.
“That’s right, dear. Keep your chin up.” Her grandmother offered a proud pat to her hand. “Now, what do you think of the gloves in this shop?”
Catherine followed her into the entrance, thankful to be out of the prying view of those on the street. Her grandmother inspected several pairs of gloves, her dainty fingers running over the kid leather.
The proprietress continued to display varieties, and Catherine watched as Lady Greatheart dismissed options, one after another, unsatisfied with the quality, the stitching, or something else equally invisible to Catherine’s eye.
“These.” Her grandmother pointed to a pair and gave a direct nod. In short work, they were wrapped up. Catherine dispatched the box to their waiting footman as they exited the shop, then carried on down the street.
“I always forget how fiddly you are with your gloves,” Catherine badgered.
“It’s the first thing a gentleman touches, dear. It’s wise to pay attention to details such as these.” She lifted her fingers, waggling them in her gloves.
“Ah, is that how you snared Grandfather? Your soft gloved hands?”
At this, her grandmother lowered her tone as if imparting a secret. “No, but it didn’t hurt, I’ll tell you that.” She hid a smirk behind her hand. “Here’s the modiste. We should get a head start. Don’t want all the good colors and fabrics already spoken for.”
The bell tinkled as they entered the shop. “May I help you?” the assistant asked, coming to stand before them.
“Yes, do you have the new fashion plates from Paris? And what are the upcoming colors?”
The lady nodded. “Yes, my lady. Come with me, if you please.” She led them to a back room with soft seating, curtains, and mirrors lining the walls. A red-carpeted stool occupied the middle, where ladies would stand and wait for their new dresses to be fitted.
“This year, blossom will be the most requested. I happen to have several shades of its rich rosy pink, if you wish to take a look?”
“Of course,” Catherine replied, earning an approving nod from her grandmother.
As the lady left to retrieve the fabric samples, her grandmother leaned over to Catherine. “Such a color will be stunning on you.”
“Thank you.”