Chapter 13
When Catie woke, Lizzie asked the maid to bring them tea and soup, and forced it down her throat, even though Catie insisted she was much better and apologized profusely for her tears.
As she sipped her tea, Lizzie studied her. Her color seemed better and her smiles seemed less forced than earlier, and she insisted she was well enough to go down for the impromptu party Lord Hollingsborn had put together for them.
Lizzie herself was a bit too pleased at the recovery, and spent the remainder of the rainy afternoon turning and shaking their clothes, all the while disputing with herself about her reasons for being excited about the evening.
She told herself it was because she was on the last leg of her tour here in the eighteenth century and she wanted to tie up all the loose ends.
She sincerely wanted to see Catie well and happily settled, and had come to the conclusion that even though the beginnings of her romance with young Hollingsborn hadn’t been completely on the up and up, for the most part it was a good match.
If Edwin was as reformed as his mother promised he was, and could stay away from the gaming tables, they should be fine.
Lizzie pushed away the slight unease she continued to feel about that.
She’d spent the last weeks guiding Catie in that direction, and it was widely believed by society to be a done deal.
“Do ye think Lord Hollingsborn will propose tonight?” Catie asked, practically taking the thought right from her head.
“Has he talked to your brother?” Lizzie asked, feeling certain if he had that she would have heard about it in great detail already. Quinn had an active dislike for the marquis-to-be and made fun of him whenever he had the chance. It was the only wrench in her well-oiled machine.
Catie frowned. “I dinna think so. I suppose he must, aye?”
“Well, certainly, as he’s your guardian.” Lizzie tried not to let her irritation at Edwin’s cowardice show.
It wasn’t as if Quinn would punch him in the face for asking for his sister’s hand. She had to turn away to hide her smile. Edwin’s occasional supercilious manner made Lizzie not altogether mind the thought of him getting a pop to the nose.
“Has he spoken to you about it?” Lizzie asked more harshly than she meant.
Catie blushed and wrung her hands. “Not in so many words,” she said. “He hasna been improper, Miss Burnet.”
“No, dear, of course not.” Lizzie hurried to reassure her, not wanting Catie to start doubting herself. She shrugged. “We shall see tonight, won’t we?”
Catie’s blush deepened and her face almost cracked with her smile, causing a little fissure in Lizzie’s heart.
She hoped she’d done the right thing. The monetary reward she’d get from Lady Hollingsborn when they were married seemed the silliest thing now.
If she got to go home, none of that would even matter, but Catie would be left here to live the life she’d helped orchestrate.
“Do you think you’ll be happy with him?” she asked, pressing her hands into her chest to try to stop the sudden tightening she felt.
Catie’s face went blank for a second before resuming her radiant smile, though now it seemed slightly altered, more forced. “Aye, Miss Burnet, and I owe it all to ye.”
Lizzie narrowed her eyes, about to press the matter, when Catie held up her hand, assuring her she meant what she said, and only wished she’d be wearing a better dress for such a possibly life changing event.
Lizzie looked over at their almost dry day dresses and guiltily wished the same for herself as well as Catie.
She would have loved knocking Quinn on his heels by walking into dinner wearing a marvelous dress.
She had a split second fantasy of him taking her to a movie premier in a modern tuxedo.
Absurd, especially as he’d completely upstage her.
She got up and checked her clothes before pulling them on.
“I think Lady Hollingsborn may have something you can borrow that will spruce up your dress,” she said. “Help me lace up. I’ll go ask her and send a maid up to you. It’s getting close to time.”
Downstairs, Lizzie found a maid to help Catie dress, then set out to find Lady Hollingsborn and beg a few baubles. She felt certain she would be happy to oblige. Lady H was probably ecstatic about the turn of events that kept them here overnight, giving her son more time to make his case.
Lizzie wondered if he would make his case tonight.
At twenty-four, Edwin probably felt he had a few more years of being single owed to him, but his intemperate ways had put his family in such financial straits he really had no recourse but to cut his oat sowing short.
Once again she felt a pang of regret consigning Catie to such a less than stellar man, and wished that Oliver was a bit older.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts on her way back upstairs, she bumped into Quinn in the narrow back stairway.
He grabbed her elbows to keep her from toppling backwards and stepped aside to let her squeeze past.
“Oh, how did I possibly miss you?” she asked, embarrassed. Looking up at his face, she gasped at what she saw. “What’s happened?”
She’d seen him look irritated, discombobulated even, but never so upset.
He frowned, looking as if he’d been poleaxed.
She touched his sleeve, then remembered herself.
Once again she’d slipped out of character, acting as if they were old chums. Whatever had happened to cause that look on his face was none of her concern.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, turning sideways to edge past him.
“The wee bugger has gone and asked me for permission to marry Catie,” he said, putting his hand on his stomach as if he’d be ill.
“But that’s good news,” she said with a relieved laugh. “I thought he might.”
He glared at her ferociously before gripping her arm and pulling her down the stairs. In the hall, he looked both ways for people and took her by the shoulders. His tempestuous blue eyes searched her face, his brows furrowed as he leaned over her.
“Ye must tell me if I should allow it,” he said, sounding heartbreakingly young and unsure of himself. “It’s only me now to make such decisions.” He dropped her shoulders and stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s only that I feel ye are my ally in this.”
The tightness she’d felt earlier with Catie hit her in the chest again. She had to turn away from the look of trust he gave her. Which she did not deserve at all.
“Of course I am,” she said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears. He didn’t seem to notice, and relaxed at her words. “It’s a very good match,” she continued.
“Aye, I understand about the title and land,” Quinn said, trying to pace, but having no room in the tiny hall.
“But what do ye know of him? I canna let Catie marry a fortune hunter or a gambler.” He paused as if trying to remember more instructions.
“To be honest, I didna think she would like anyone and we could go home, and now I find I havena been paying enough attention.” He slumped at his confession.
It took all her reserve and acting skill not to bend at the waist, gasping for breath at the blow his words caused her.
Could she lie to Quinn’s face and tell him Edwin was neither a gambler nor a fortune hunter?
She got a terrified feeling he’d found out the truth and was testing her, asking her directly about the very things he was.
“Lord Hollingsborn has made his intentions clear to you,” she said noncommittally, buying some time until her brain started working again. “You needn’t make any decisions tonight. Speak to Catie first.”
He clasped her hands and nodded, looking so relieved she wanted to return the smile he offered her and at the same time, run and hide from both Fergusons until she could go home.
How had she managed to get in such a tangle?
It served her right for caring even a little bit.
She should have continued on as she’d been the past year, getting by and never getting attached to these people who would be nothing but dust in the wind to her when she returned to her own time.
She looked at him hard, trying to convince herself he wasn’t real, but his hands were strong and his smile was so kind as he looked down at her, as if she was a friend, someone worthy of his gratitude.
“Thank ye,” he said, pulling one of her hands to his lips and kissing the back of it. Instead of realizing what a shocking thing he’d done, he continued to hold her hand and stare down at her.
Lizzie swayed toward him, quickly righting herself, but continuing to be trapped in his steady gaze.
Her hand tingled where he’d pressed the kiss.
She could have punched him for doing such a thing, wanted to punch herself for reacting to it.
She mentally called herself a string of vicious insults, trying to regain her cold composure, desperately fighting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and see what more his lips could do.
Damn it. She was only days away from going home. She’d be crazy to falter now.
“I promised to find Catie some jewelry to wear tonight,” she stammered, forcing herself to slide her hand out of his without jerking away.
He bowed as best he could in the narrow space. “I shall take your advice and speak with Catie,” he said. “I look forward to speaking more with ye tonight.”
Lizzie nodded once and walked in a stately manner until she reached the top of the stairs and turned a corner, then ran until she came to Lady Hollingsborn’s rooms so she’d have an excuse for her rapidly beating heart.