Chapter Thirteen #3
The hazy, warm, trickly feeling in Rosalie’s chest grows larger. “I know,” Rosalie says softly.
She doesn’t know what this is, not really. But she doesn’t want anyone else either. Not now that she knows what it feels like
to touch Catherine, to taste her, to be with her like this, quiet and private and lovely.
What else there could be for them together is a question for a more cogent, alert, contemplative Rosalie.
But something Catherine’s said pokes at Rosalie’s kiss-happy mind. “Why don’t we just make the best of it, then. Steer into
their obsessive competition?”
“Submit ourselves to more of Mr. Dean?” Catherine asks, looking genuinely horrified.
“Pretend to submit ourselves to more of his . . . charming company. The outings with Christopher could be double outings.
We can . . . I don’t know, pretend to fight over him, and then Christopher can walk him away when we get too heated and we
can just . . . talk, or not, or . . .” Rosalie trails off, frowning.
The logistics need some finessing, but it would at least be more time together, to decide what exactly more of each other would look like.
“My mother’s just barely allowing this overnight trip to Blaise Castle, and only because my father said yes before she could
stop him. She—” Catherine breaks off, looking up at Rosalie, biting at her lip.
It’s an unreasonably fetching look. “What?”
“She thinks that being alone with just you and Mr. Dean puts me at a disadvantage, because you have the wealth to always look
better than everyone else,” Catherine says sheepishly.
Rosalie blinks. “She thinks that when we’re together I am the one coming out on top?”
“Well,” Catherine says, her hands sliding around to cup Rosalie’s arse.
Rosalie laughs and Catherine’s face blooms into a bright grin. “Tease,” Rosalie says. “And she’s wrong. Next to you, I’m nothing.”
Catherine’s grin falters and she stares up at Rosalie, almost frozen. “That might be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever
said.”
“We can’t get into a ‘No, you’re prettier’ contest. It’s too juvenile. And I’d win.”
“Yes, you would,” Catherine says.
“Oh, we’ll be here all day,” Rosalie says, stroking the hairs at the nape of Catherine’s neck.
“Right, and we need to figure out how to do this again. Mother’s determined that you and I not spend much time in direct comparison—however
irrationally,” Catherine says as Rosalie frowns at her. “Mother and Father actually quarreled over the trip to Blaise Castle,
and they never fight.”
“Really? My parents squabble all the time.”
Catherine shrugs. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince Mother into letting me go on any other trips or outings that include you and Mr. Dean. We may get away with just your brother.”
Rosalie sighs, and then sits up, a flutter of excitement coursing through her. That’s exactly it.
“Then we make sure you keep bumping into Christopher while you’re out with Mr. Dean.”
“What will that accomplish, exactly?” Catherine asks.
“Well, I’d be with him,” Rosalie says simply. “And, we’ve told our mother that Christopher should court you to ‘distract’ you and your mother from Mr. Dean and make him feel
like he doesn’t have a chance, so it’s a win-win with my mother.”
“You and your brother are rather wily, aren’t you?”
“Exceedingly. You’ll fit right in,” Rosalie says happily. “And, because Christopher got permission from your father for the
trip, I think he should start writing you lots of letters, so you can let us know where you’ll be with Mr. Dean. Then he’ll
distract him, and you and I shall have a lovely time together.”
Catherine smiles, nodding excitedly. “Perfect.”
She leans up and captures Rosalie’s lips again and Rosalie grins against her mouth. Now that they’ve ironed that out, there’s
no reason they can’t spend the whole afternoon kissing. Rosalie lets her hands slide back down to Catherine’s lovely, wonderful
breasts. Maybe there actually is enough time for them to—
There’s a creak outside the door and they wrench apart. Rosalie nearly falls off the settee as she scrabbles off Catherine’s
lap, landing on the seat beside her and managing to get her skirts back down just as someone knocks on the doors.
“Come in!” Rosalie calls, looking wide-eyed at Catherine, who looks very freshly kissed.
She can’t look much better.
The doors open and Christopher strolls on through, hair still a little damp from the misting drizzle outside, cheeks pink.
He takes one look at them and his face splits in a delighted grin.
“I knew it!” he says, spinning to close the doors while Rosalie groans. He nearly flies across the room to bounce down onto
the opposite settee. “Tell me everything,” he demands gleefully.
Rosalie glances at Catherine and finds her sitting very straight, looking between them uncertainly.
Something clenches in Rosalie’s chest. Something painful but at the same time utterly, wonderfully free. She reaches out and
takes Catherine’s hand, smiling at her as Catherine turns wide eyes to look at her. “I promise, Christopher is entirely Team
Catherine and Rosalie.”
Which makes Catherine gasp out a laugh and Christopher chortle across from them. After a moment, Catherine nods, squeezing
Rosalie’s hand. Together they look back at Christopher’s eager face.
He leans forward, rubbing his hands together. “All right, so, what’s the plan?”