Page 33 of Seducing an Earl under the Mistletoe
“Everything is fine,” Marcus scoffed, taking a seat and proceeding to butter his scone angrily, wielding that butter knife almost like a weapon.
All eyes were on him, but it was obvious that he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself to anyone. Their father turned to Lord Thornton with a few suggestions regarding where their morning stroll might take them. Catherine was not listening to a single thing the two men exchanged. Her eyes were focused on her brother, trying to decipher this mystery.
“Cate,” Virginie whispered to her sister in a conspiratorial manner.
Virginie, always keen on the latest society gossip, then slid a newspaper across the table, over to Catherine. Catherine proceeded to pick it up, and her eyes widened as she saw the headline announcing Isabel’s betrothal to Henry. It felt like a stab to her heart, but she forced a neutral expression.
She didn’t think it would all happen so soon. Isabel had not mentioned anything yet. Catherine found herself observing Marcus closely, noticing the flickers of sadness in his eyes and the way he tried to hide it. She felt a pang of empathy for the ache that she wished she could take away.
A deep worry for her brother dominated her thoughts. She had always admired his optimistic and hopeful outlook on love, and seeing him hurt and distant tore at her heart.
But then, before she could offer any comforting words or some form of guidance, another article caught her attention, sending shockwaves through her. The words on the page seemed to dance before her eyes, sparking disbelief and a growing sense of betrayal, although no promises had ever been made.
The scandalous accusations of an alleged kiss between Arthur and Margot, especially near his deceased brother’s grave, made Catherine feel disoriented to such an extent that she clumsily lifted her arm and hit her teacup with her elbow, spilling all of the contents onto the white tablecloth.
“Are you all right, Catherine?” her father asked.
No. Nothing was all right.And she wasn’t all right either, but he was the last person she would ever admit it to.
“I’m fine,” she said, breathing slowly in an effort to calm herself down. “Just clumsy, that is all.”
Clumsy and obviously jealous, she thought to herself, trying to silence that treacherous little voice that refused to let her be.
Chapter 14
Arthur was in no mood for yet another party, but he could not refuse his friend. Isabel and Henry were hosting their engagement party at her home, and of course, the entire Winters family was invited, including Marcus.
Arthur had never seen his friend so torn before. He didn’t want to go. Seeing the woman he loved bound to another man was more than he could bear. Arthur could understand that. Yet, Marcus didn’t want to lose face. He was a gentleman who knew what his responsibilities were, and as such, he also knew that it was his obligation to attend with his family.
“I need you there, old boy,” Marcus told him a few days prior to the event. “I…I don’t want to go there on my own.”
Of course, he would not go on his own, but Arthur knew exactly what he had referred to. He needed someone by his side, someone who could keep an eye on him and, if need be, go home with him sooner than expected. Arthur had a lot on his mind, but he didn’t want to betray his friend.
“You know you can count on me,” he assured him, with a pat on the shoulder.
The night of the engagement party arrived all too soon, and now, the two men were amongst the other party guests, blending in. The estate of Isabel’s father, a wealthy merchant whose family had spent a lot of time in India by his side, had been transformed into a breathtaking spectacle, an embodiment of the family’s cosmopolitan tastes and endless travels.
An opulent engagement party was underway, and the halls were adorned with the most intricate artifacts and luxurious imports from every corner of the world.
In the heart of the grand hall, artifacts from India held the gaze of the partygoers. Ornate tapestries, richly embroidered with intricate patterns and vibrant hues, told tales of ancient cultures and traditions. Beside them stood finely carved sandalwood statuettes, capturing the essence of Indian spirituality and the elegance of daily life.
A grand Rajasthani painting, capturing a regal procession of maharajas, adorned one wall, its vivid colors and meticulous detailing evoking the grandeur of a bygone era. Intricately designed jewelry boxes embedded with colorful gemstones and mother-of-pearl showcased the craftsmanship of Indian artisans.
Among the collection, a statue of the revered deity Ganesha stood prominently—a symbol of wisdom, success, and good fortune. Nearby, a ceremonial silk sari, its fabric shimmering with the reflections of a thousand stars, whispered stories of Indian festivals and celebrations.
Arthur, amidst the lavish display, couldn’t escape the sensation that his father’s essence lingered in every nook and cranny. The ornaments seemed to echo the theme of a father distant in presence but prominent in influence, a powerful figure whose imprint was indelibly etched in the very fabric of their lives.
He didn’t want to be reminded of his own tangled mess of emotions right now. But it was impossible to remain a simply innocent bystander, when everything around him reminded him of an absent father, whose guidance was sorely missed.
Arthur’s heart fluttered at the sight of Catherine as she entered the room, a beacon of light in the midst of his swirling thoughts. The memories of their night in the library still danced vividly in his mind, the gentle touch of her fingers on his, the warmth of her inner thighs, the way she tasted on his tongue. It was an image forever imprinted upon his mind.
In addition to all this, the scandal sheet had done nothing to assuage his troubled mind. The whispers and sidelong glances of the guests at the party only added to the weight of his dilemma. He felt trapped, painfully aware of the fact that he would soon need to propose to Margot, and with that, the life as he knew it would truly be over.
He watched Catherine move through the crowd, waiting for his moment to approach her, when he heard someone’s voice behind him.
“She is breathtaking, isn’t she?”
He turned around, only to lock eyes with Lady Fontwell. “Who is?” he wondered, clearing his throat.
