Chapter 13 #2
She halted at the threshold, holding her breath in the hope that he hadn’t heard her entrance. But she had no such luck. Joseph lifted his head to look at her, and the moment their eyes met, that infuriating host of butterflies she’d thought she’d gotten rid of came rushing back with a vengeance.
“Catriona, you’re here. Good. It saves me the trouble of having to send for you.”
Catriona ventured further, wariness killing those butterflies instantly. “Did you need me for something?” she asked.
Joseph nodded as he leaned back in his seat and gestured for her to come closer.
Catriona told herself that she did it only out of curiosity.
She told herself that the only reason her heart skipped a beat when he put his book down and gave her his full attention was because she simply hadn’t gotten used to it yet.
“I think it is time for another lesson,” he told her.
That took her by surprise. “A lesson? Now?”
“What better time?”
“Perhaps not when it is so close to dinnertime,” she suggested weakly. She didn’t know why the suggestion was making her so flustered. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had lessons before. And she was the one who was determined to master the role of a duchess, was she not?
“We can continue the lesson throughout dinner if you wish,” Joseph suggested with ease. “I don’t mind in the slightest. As a matter of fact, the more time we have together, the better.”
Oh goodness.
Catriona shot to her feet, turning her back to him before he noticed the blush on her cheeks. Needing the distance, she marched over to the closest bookshelf, pretending she was looking for something to read even though she couldn’t focus on anything else but him.
“I cannot imagine what kind of lesson could possibly last all throughout dinner,” she managed to say without stumbling over her words. God knew her heart was stumbling over itself.
“You’d be surprised, actually. Have you ever hosted a ball?”
“Joseph, I had never even attended a ball until the night at Lady Henderson’s. I’m sure you know the answer to that question.”
Despite her snarky response, he chuckled. The sound was still so new, still so surprising, that it caught her by surprise. When she looked back at him, his smile was slowly disappearing, but his eyes still sparkled with something she hadn’t realized had been missing before. Life.
“My thoughts exactly, but it would have been rather rude of me to simply assume as much. So that will be our next lesson. I shall teach you how to throw a ball. One of the duties of a duchess is knowing how to be a proper hostess after all. One cannot expect the Duchess of Irvin to only attend society’s events without throwing one of her own. ”
Catriona reached for a random book and was happy that it happened to be a book of poetry. It was not her favorite thing to read, but she doubted she would find anything of substance. Though, she also doubted that she would be able to focus enough to read anything anyway.
Holding the book to her chest as if it would be enough ward off the frustrating emotions, she made her way back to her seat across from Joseph. She didn’t miss the fact that he was watching her the entire way.
“Very well,” she agreed at last. “You do make a fair point, but I do not know what we could possibly accomplish today. It would be far better to take care of the lesson in the morning.”
“I have meetings all day tomorrow,” he explained. “I won’t have the time.”
“Did you have meetings all day today as well? And the day before? You do not seem to have the time for anything at all.”
Joseph inclined his head to the side as he regarded her. For a moment, Catriona wondered if he could sense the true reason she said those words.
“I said it before, Catriona. My role demands my attention.”
“As does your daughter.”
His eyebrows twitched, as if itching to knit into a scowl. Whatever humor had lingered in his eyes before was completely gone. “Excuse me?”
Catriona steeled herself. She hadn’t meant to broach the topic like this. She’d hoped to speak with him when she knew exactly what she was going to say without him assuming that she was overstepping, but the words came out before she could stop them, and there was no taking them back now.
So she backtracked, taking it from another perspective. “Dorothea quite likes you, you know.”
“I would hope so, seeing that I am her father.”
Catriona huffed a mirthless laugh. “You know good and well that there are many who do not care for their parents—though that would be rather alarming for a girl her age. What I meant is that she idolizes you, and I’m sure she wishes that she could spend more time with you.”
Joseph put his book aside, getting to his feet. Catriona found herself admiring his long legs as he made his way over to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of strong-smelling, amber liquid. She blinked, coming back to herself when he faced her once more.
“I thought I told you that you were not interfere with how I parent my child.”
“This is not an interference. This is a suggestion. I want to believe that you simply hadn’t noticed how lonely she is during the days, just as much as I want to believe that you would not wish that to be the case.”
His brows finally met in that scowl. “Is that what she told you?”
“She didn’t have to tell me. It is clear as day.”
Joseph drained his glass then set it down. He ran a hand down his face, clearly troubled, before he picked back up the glass and poured himself another.
Catriona wanted to believe his obvious disconcertment was because he didn’t like the thought of his daughter feeling neglected. She knew she should back off, that this was as good a time as ever, but she pushed on instead.
“Her favorite flower today is the tulip, by the way,” Catriona said softly. She waited for him to look at her before she continued. “I’m sure it will change tomorrow, and I’ll be sure to tell you what it is once I find out.”
“You don’t have to,” he pushed out.
“But I want to,” she countered easily. “Who knows? Perhaps one day her favorite flower will be the rose, like yours.”
Surprise flickered across his face. “I do not have a favorite flower. I do not care for them at all actually, but if I did, the rose certainly would not head the list.”
“Truly?” Catriona frowned. “Dorothea told me that that was your favorite flower. She was even drawing you a picture of one to gift to you. She said that you once had roses everywhere when she was younger, but you don’t any longer, and she thought you were simply too busy to enjoy them anymore.”
Joseph stiffened. Catriona nearly missed it. She certainly would have if she hadn’t been watching him so closely. But the moment his jaw tightened and his eyes widened a smidgen, she knew something was wrong.
Slowly, she got to her feet. A chill washed over her as she neared him, taking in that haunted look in his eyes. “Joseph?”
He blinked, and it was gone. As if nothing had happened. “I look forward to receiving the drawing then.”
She wasn’t convinced. Without thinking, she touched his arm, stepping closer than she should have. He didn’t pull away. He only stared at her as she stared at him.
“Where did you go just now?” she whispered.
He said nothing, staring at her with an unreadable expression.
A part of her knew that she should step away and give him his space.
This was overstepping that invisible line he had drawn between them the moment he’d proposed their marriage of convenience.
But she couldn’t bring herself to move. And, foolishly enough, she felt as if he could not either.
But she should have known better than to think he would open up to her. The moment he stepped away, throwing up walls between them in the process, her hopes were crushed by the weight of reality.
“Tomorrow, we will commence our lesson,” he said.
“And what of tonight?” she asked before he could step away from her. It was a desperate grab at something though she didn’t know what. But that hope flared to life when he paused to look at her instead of marching away like he could have.
“You wished to have one hour a day for yourself, did you not? You are more than welcome to use it however you wish. I will leave you to it.”
With that, he walked away, leaving her staring after him. When the door closed behind him, Catriona sighed. She tried shoving away that wave of disappointment, irrational as it was, but it was a nearly impossible feat.
Yet another evening dining alone, she thought as she left the drawing room. She didn’t think she would ever get used to it. In a place like this, however, it was quite possible that she would have no choice.
Joseph didn’t leave his bedchamber until he was certain that Catriona had retired to bed.
He slipped into the hallway, pausing at her door when he noticed the faint glow of light coming from underneath it.
She was still moving about inside, and that knowledge tempted him to knock.
He didn’t have anything to say, had no reason to be at her door so late at night, but the urge was still there, growing overwhelming by the second.
What would she say when she found out that his bedchamber was directly next to hers? Or did she already know? Did she sometimes listen for him like he did her?
Joseph shook his head, shaking off the unreasonable feelings. This was getting out of hand.
He moved away from the door, feeling calmer the further away he got, but it didn’t rid him of that uneasy feeling in the center of his chest, the one that had been brewing there ever since their conversation in the drawing room.
Because apparently, he adored roses.
God, how could he have been so blind? He’d been so caught up in ensuring that Dorothea was taken care of, that she learned how to be the very best, that he hadn’t noticed what was right in front of him.
Dorothea’s bedchamber was quiet, the door slightly ajar because she never liked to sleep with it close.
Joseph knew that she had taken an early dinner and retired to bed an hour ago, not through first-hand knowledge but only because Dorothea’s governess had informed him of such.
He didn’t mind receiving the updates. As a matter of fact, he welcomed them, thinking it meant that he was being present in his child’s life even though he was so busy. How foolish of him. How negligent.
Dorothea was fast asleep, curled on one side. Guilt wracked him. She looked so much like her mother, the mother she never truly knew. Nothing like the father she thought she did.
Slowly, he sat on the side of her bed and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. Dorothea’s eyes immediately drifted open.
“Daddy?” she murmured before shifting onto her back to look at him. Her eyes were clear, as if he hadn’t just pulled her out of deep sleep.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” he whispered. “I did not mean to.”
Slowly, she sat up, her hair falling around her shoulders. Joseph had always been proud of how mature she was for her age but now he couldn’t but wonder if seven-year-old child should be looking at him with such seriousness.
“Is something wrong?” she asked softly, almost tentatively.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured her. “I was just checking on you. Now go back to sleep.”
Dorothea thinned her lips, brows furrowing slightly. She didn’t believe him, but she must have been too tired because she didn’t argue. She only lay on her side, this time facing him, and closed her eyes as she let out a soft sigh.
Joseph rested his hand against her head, stroking gently, waiting for her breathing to slow down. After a few seconds, Dorothea took his hand from her hair and clutched it to her chest like she would a doll.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there. It might have been an hour, likely more, but he knew that by the time he left, he felt more resolved. Catriona wouldn’t have to tell him Dorothea’s favorite flower every day because he would be there to learn it himself.