Chapter 8 #2
How did she go from being indifferent to her heart quickening every time he stepped close to her? Every time he held her hand? Every time he guided her through an instruction and their eyes met for a brief, intense moment?
Things were different. She felt different. She just couldn’t tell if that was a good thing.
“When will you two be married?”
Catriona glanced at her sister in the mirror, watching as Ava twirled around in one of the new dresses she’d gotten from the modiste.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. Even though Joseph had spent almost two hours teaching Catriona how to dance the quadrille yesterday, it hadn’t crossed her mind to ask the question.
And it didn’t seem to be on the forefront of his mind either.
But surely that was something they needed to settle on soon, wasn’t it?
“It would be so nice if you two could have the wedding by the seaside,” Maisie sang from her spot near the window.
As usual, the two girls had finished getting ready for the ball before Catriona, so they’d congregated in her room while Catriona did her finishing touches.
She was in the process of going through her meager collection of jewelry, trying to decide what would go best with her unique dress.
As she’d promised, Mrs. Fairclough had the dress delivered early this morning, and it was exactly how Catriona had pictured it.
But now that it was almost time for them to leave for the ball, her nerves were beginning to set in.
It was beautiful but certainly different.
There was no doubt that she’d attract attention in a dress like this.
She just didn’t know if she was ready for it.
For the most part, she’d asked for the dress to remain traditional with a modest neckline and cupped sleeves.
Mrs. Fairclough had even gone ahead and added an overlay of lace that shimmered when caught in the light.
But the tartan was what caught the eye. It sat in the middle of the dress, a long strip from her bodice to the hem that complemented the surrounding muslin and lace.
Mrs. Fairclough had managed to bring her vision to life, but now, Catriona was wondering if she should have settled for completely traditional in the end.
“All right, I’m ready,” Catriona announced as she stood.
“Finally,” Ava sighed. “Any longer and I would not blame His Grace for leaving us behind.”
Catriona chuckled at that. Francis had come by ten minutes ago to say that the Duke had arrived which meant that he had been waiting in the drawing room all this time. Likely at the mercy of her uncle’s whims.
“I cannot say that I’d mind,” she said as they made their way out her room. “That way, I would not need to bother with this ball at all. Though I suppose it would still be nice for you two to attend.”
“Do you think we will see Lord Wentworth there?” Maisie asked with a giggle.
Ava immediately turned red. “I hope not.”
“Why not?” Catriona asked. “He clearly likes you. And you seem to like him as well.”
“W-who said I liked him?” Ava protested. “I never said such a thing, did I? I hope ye ken that ye cannae say anythin’ like that tae him if he is there!”
Maisie nearly doubled over in laughter. She had to hold on to the railing of the stairs to keep herself from tumbling down the steps as they descended. Catriona struggled to hold back the force of her own laughter.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Ava,” Catriona assured her. “It’s rather nice to have affection for someone, isn’t it?”
Ava crossed her arms. “I wouldnae ken, so I cannae—” She broke off, then tried again. This time, the accent was expertly tucked away. “I wouldn’t know. And neither would you. Unless things have changed between you and the Duke?”
“Nothing has changed,” Catriona answered, a little too quickly.
“Truly?” Maisie questioned. “I heard that he was here for quite a while yesterday. I can’t believe you didn’t let us know.”
“If I had, you two would have interrupted us.”
“And we cannot have that, now, can we?” Ava drawled, laughing. Clearly, she did not mind teasing as long as she was not at the receiving end of it.
Catriona tried not to sigh. “Please mind your manners and graces at this evening’s ball. I know how much you two like to jest, but it would not do to poke fun at either me or Joseph when in front of others.”
“Oh?” Maisie squeaked, eyes dancing with humor. She shifted her gaze to Ava who seemed to be on the same page.
“He’s Joseph now,” Ava whispered to Maisie as if Catriona was not well within earshot.
“I wonder when we decided to discard the formalities,” Maisie whispered back. She giggled behind her hand.
Catriona decided not to answer, saved by their arrival at the drawing room. They entered to find Frederic trying to bait Joseph into a discussion about politics. Joseph seemed to be indulging him, but when they entered, his attention immediately shifted.
Heat washed her the moment his eyes landed on her. Her feet stalled, her breath hitching in her throat. She knew she should move forward, that it seemed rather odd of her to hover in threshold, but he held her captive.
And she could almost believe, just for a foolish moment, that she did as well.
Joseph didn’t seem to be breathing either, watching her with rapt attention as the world fell away around them. He was as handsome as ever, unfairly so. And for a moment, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in agreeing to be his wife when she could never measure up to him.
But with the way he looked at her, maybe…
Frederic cleared his throat. Catriona immediately turned away, needing to hide the blush she knew was steadily spreading across her cheeks.
“You ladies look lovely,” her uncle said. “And you, Cat, will make quite the statement tonight.”
That wasn’t her intention, but she supposed she had to agree. “Thank you, Uncle Frederic,” she murmured. She moved to where Nina sat, needing to do something so that her embarrassment at being caught staring didn’t overwhelm her.
She bent to scratch behind Nina’s ears. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she knew without turning that it was Joseph.
“Catriona.”
The way she felt hearing him call her name felt wrong. It didn’t seem like something one should feel about their soon-to-be husband of convenience. She straightened all the same, gathering her courage to face him.
His blue eyes were akin to a stormy sky, smoldering with something she could not understand. “You look beautiful.”
Catriona took a moment to ground herself, to remind herself that there was no need to sway at such a generic compliment. “Thank you, Joseph. You look…” And then her gaze snagged on his cravat. “Don’t tell me…”
That ghostly smile returned. “Finally noticed, have you?”
She couldn’t find the right words. His cravat was made of the same tartan fabric she’d given him. “Was that why you took it from me?”
“I was inspired by someone I knew,” he said. Catriona met his eyes, not knowing if she should laugh or thank him. She didn’t know how to feel at all.
“Well, if you handsome couple would stop staring at each other as if there is no one else in existence,” her uncle chimed in, “you might recall that you have a ball to attend.”
Catriona welcomed the interruption. She turned to face her uncle though she was still far too aware of the fact that Joseph hadn’t cared to do the same. “Won’t you be coming with us?”
Frederic was already shaking his head. “I have no care to attend any of society’s events. I only did so because you ladies needed a chaperone, but His Grace has so graciously taken that task out of my hand.”
“Well, there is no need to sound so pleased about it,” Ava grumbled under her breath. Catriona would have to remind her later that she was yet to master the art of speaking in a low tone.
Frederic only laughed and shrugged. “I’ve been out of the public eye so much that it feels weird to suddenly rejoin society.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to tell,” Maisie said, “seeing how sociable you were Lady Henderson’s ball.”
“It’s a skill, my dear. You will learn how to utilize it yourself in time. Now.” He clapped his hands. “Off you all go. You’re cutting into my alone time.”
Joseph took that as his cue. Catriona felt like she could finally breathe when he turned away from her and said, “Let us depart then.”
She was happy to oblige, walking away from him as quickly as she could. But there would be no escaping him and the way he made her feel. Not tonight and soon enough, not for a long time.