Catherine regarded him with an expression that held both warmth and understanding. “That pleases me to hear.”
Quin gave a nod of approval, then turned his focus to the path before them, leading the way through a side gate of the park’s entrance. He had a question on his mind and it was the perfect opening to risk it, but he hesitated, not wanting to press too hard.
It was a delicate balance that he wasn’t sure how to maintain or cultivate into something more. It was uncharted territory for him. And with so many aspects of his life, when faced with a problem, he studied, researched, tried different solutions, and proceeded.
Not so with this, with her. It was all risk and reward—or so he hoped.
Formulating the question in his mind, he turned to Catherine. “And how are you? As I said, with time, peace has overcome the initial resistance I had. Is it the same for you?” Quin studied her face for an answer before she voiced it. Had his heart not been so deeply invested in hers, the question wouldn’t have been as difficult to voice. But as it was, his heart was in his throat, and he watched her reaction before her words answered his.
Her brow furrowed slightly, and she paused as if carefully considering her words. “In a way, yes. Time doesn’t heal wounds but allows you to adapt to them in a manner. Does that make sense? And it has become easier, in large part thanks to you.”
She turned away, but Quin noted the heightened color in her cheeks, a fetching pink that trailed down her neck and drew his eye lower than he’d ventured to look before.
He struggled to compose himself while also enjoying the delight her words gave him and the hope therein. But it wasn’t her actual words as much as her reaction. She peeked up at him then, and Quin allowed himself the pleasure of holding her regard. What was it about a look that could speak far more than a word? Or even several words? In those precious moments, he felt her tenderness like a kiss, and he hoped his expression displayed the same affection.
A grumbling voice interrupted the moment, and Quin chuckled as Catherine covered her mouth with a gloved hand in an attempt to hide her reaction. Apparently, they were boring Mrs. Burke who was mumbling to herself about something or other.
“A lovely day.” Quin broke the silence, choosing a topic Mrs. Burke couldn’t find offensive. She’d picked up her pace, or perhaps they had slowed theirs. He couldn’t tell or remember; he’d been too lost in the moment.
Regardless, a quick peep behind assured him that she could easily overhear their conversation now, so it was safer to pick a topic that couldn’t be reported as scandalous to Lord Bircham.
“Indeed, it is,” Catherine replied, biting her lip to keep from smiling too broadly, and Quin was thankful to know such nuances about her.
Knowing such things was just the beginning of his education.
Because he’d always loved learning, and he was determined that studying Catherine Greatheart was going to be the most enthralling project he’d ever undertaken.
Twenty-four
Do not worry about things you cannot alter.
—Catherine the Great
The afternoon drew near, and Catherine stopped by her grandmother’s rooms before going downstairs to the parlor to await the arrival of Lord Bircham and the solicitor.
A slight breeze made the curtains dance as she walked into her grandmother’s bedchamber. A welcome sight lifted her spirits as Lady Greatheart was sitting up, taking sips of broth from her maid.
“Awake?” Catherine asked softly.
Lady Greatheart had slowly been regaining some strength, but it was so intermittent that Catherine had held her hope in check.
Lady Greatheart opened her eyes then, squinting. Her vision still was doubling, and it created the most terrible headaches that left her with the need to sleep the day away.
“She’s been awake longer this time,” the maid replied softly, lifting the spoon to Lady Greatheart’s lips.
Lady Greatheart took the broth and swallowed, closing her eyes. “I’ll just keep my eyes closed if you don’t mind.”
“Whatever feels best,” Catherine was quick to answer, thankful her grandmother had spoken at all.
“And no more laudanum.” Lady Greatheart’s next words were little more than a whimper.
Catherine turned to the maid, giving her a questioning look. Laudanum was the only thing that helped with the headaches.
“Are you sure?” Catherine asked, coming closer and sitting on the bed beside her beloved grandmother.
“Yes.”Her lips formed the word, but she had no voice. She paused and tried again. “Yes.”
Catherine turned to the maid. “Very well, but have it near in case she asks for it.”