His expression shifted to relief. “It’s truly glorious. All the rain seemed eternal.”
“Indeed,” Catherine agreed, followed by a somewhat awkward pause.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Quin said after a moment longer.
“Of course. And please give my regards to your mother,” Lady Greatheart instructed.
“I will indeed,” he said. “Lady Catherine.” He nodded to her.
“Quin,” Catherine answered softly and then watched as he passed, leaving them halted on the path.
“Well, that was interesting.” Her grandmother broke the silence after a moment.
“Yes. It certainly was.”
“Quin, hmm?” her grandmother remarked as they started down the path once more.
Catherine wasn’t sure if her grandmother was asking or just talking to herself, so she waited, studying her face.
“I think it’s time we called on Her Grace the Duchess of Wesley.” Her grandmother nodded once for emphasis.
Catherine frowned. “Of course, but…why now?”
But her grandmother had picked up her stride, and if she’d heard the question, she’d chosen not to answer.
Which made Catherine suspicious.
Her dear grandmother was a lot of things, but secretive wasn’t one of them. She’d let her keep her thoughts to herself for the moment, for certainly, soon they would overflow in one way or another.
Three
Quin didn’t remember the rest of the walk in Hyde Park nor the drive home, his thoughts focused on Lady Catherine. The quiet tick of the clock in his study kept time as his thoughts kept him company, yet he gave his head a decisive shake as his focus landed on the stacks of ledgers that lined the mahogany desk, all awaiting his perusal. Missives from his steward, party invitations, and legal documents all vied for his attention as he continued to transition from professor to duke. He missed the study, the expression in students’ eyes when they understood a portion of history or economics that they hadn’t known before. The reward of knowledge and growth were like air to him. Yet responsibility was vastly more important and the family legacy now weighed upon his shoulders. He withdrew the ink and began to work.
When the clock struck the hour, Quin paused and took the opportunity to reminisce about the chance meeting earlier with Lady Catherine. To be sure, seeing her had been difficult, and in a moment, he found himself six months in the past, watching his brother court the young woman.
He could find no fault in her; rather, he praised his brother’s choice of bride. She was kind, but not overly sensitive. She was entertaining in conversation, without being overly polished. There was an artless beauty to her that spilled over into the room; it had been clear that she and Wes, or Avery, as she addressed him, were fond of each other, which in and of itself would have been a promising start for their marriage.
On several occasions Wes had mentioned Catherine’s affinity for numbers and her keen interest in finance. Quin had openly congratulated him on finding such a rarity among theton, one who also wasn’t an utter bluestocking. But now he wondered how Catherine would fare with other potential suitors. It wasn’t common for men to appreciate input from women on investments or tallying up ledgers. Wes was a rarity among men as much as she was a rarity among women.
But it was all gone so fast and too soon. He’d been so wrapped up in his own pain that he had all but forgotten about hers. How had she fared these past months? What had become of her? Certainly, she was well cared for. Lady Greatheart was a well-respected and established countess in theton, but to his knowledge, she was Catherine’s only family. Assuredly, she had her own demons to face at the loss of such a future as a duchess. But Quin didn’t suspect her of putting more value on the title than the man, which almost made it worse. If she had been mercenary in intent, it would have been easy to ignore her loss, but he was certain she had cared far more for Wesley than for his title.
Guilt crept in, reminding him that he wasn’t the only one dealing with loss. While he didn’t have any responsibility for her, he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d shirked some aspect of gentlemanly conduct by not seeing after her in some way, however small. Regardless, there was nothing to be done for it now.
The clock in the hall chimed the hour and pulled him from his thoughts. At the fifth chime, he rose from his chair. His mother had invited him to a dinner party that evening, and he had already procrastinated enough in readying himself for the event. No doubt she had invited several eligible ladies to attend, all hopeful as they would take turns making introductions with the newly titled duke.
It wasn’t that he was against marriage, but not now. And certainly not to someone fascinated with his title.
Hell, the title was the part of himself that didn’t feel real, and any lady interested in that aspect was least suited for him.
Yet it seemed his title was now the most attractive part.
Quin took the stairs to his chambers. From one nightmare to another, the title seemed to be more of a curse than anything else.
In no time, his valet had readied him for the evening’s events, and with a rather trepidatious spirit, he ordered the carriage made ready. It wasn’t a long ride to his family home. He could easily make it his primary residence, but something about having his own space called to him, made him keep his bachelor lodgings even when they proved utterly unnecessary.
As he stepped into the carriage, he noted the way the lamps around his door flickered warmly, and he had an impulse to exit the coach and go back inside, consequences from his mother be damned. But he wouldn’t do that. More than any other virtue, responsibility weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He had given his word, and by God, he would keep it.
Even if it was just for a bloody dinner party.