Page 16 of An Offer for a Spinster
“I disagree entirely,” Katherine said, at one point in the conversation. The desserts were being served now, and she couldn’t quite believe that a dinner like this – usually so tedious – had flown past so quickly. “Lord Marlborough is certainly a villain, of course, but he does have good qualities. He cares for his mother so completely, and really, the poor man only wants to be loved. He isn’t right for Marianne, of course, and they would never be happy together, but I should dearly love to read another book about him. A book about his redemption, of course. Perhaps a more forthright woman would suit him better. Somebody a little older, a widow or confirmed spinster perhaps.”
“I have to wonder,” Timothy said archly, “whether you’d be quite so forgiving of Lord Marlborough’s wickedness if he wasn’t so handsome.”
“Oh, probably not,” Katherine laughed, feeling a little giddy. “But he iscompelling, nonetheless, and he doesn’t do anythingtooevil. Some of my companions who read the same book agreed.”
“Perhaps you’re right, but I can assure you that Lord Marlborough was simply created as a villain, and a rather flat one at that.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
Timothy choked a little on his wine. “Well, I rather assumed. Just my opinion, of course.”
She nodded, leaning back in her seat. The meal was almost over. Soon, the Duchess would rise, and that would be the signal for them to rise too, engaging in light conversation and various polite antics until their suppers had settled enough to dance again. The ladies and gentlemen were not splitting after the meal today, which was quite a scandalous choice which would be talked about a great deal.
Still, they would likely get away with it. Katherine knew from experience that Society would forgive anything that was bright and pretty and entertaining enough.
Don’t be so cynical,she reminded herself.If all goes well, you’ll have to engage with Society in order to get yourself a husband. If you don’t marry, we’re all doomed.
On cue, the Duchess rose, looking wan and pale in her black silk. Everyone had spoken to her, of course, to pay their respects and exchange pleasantries, but nobody had stayed very long. Katherine almost felt sorry for her mother.
Before she could think on it, Lord Barwood appeared behind her.
“Lady Katherine, I trust you enjoyed your meal?” he said, smiling. “Before the dancing begins and I lose you again, perhaps you’d care to take a turn about the room with me? The dear Dowager Duchess mentioned that there are a great many portraits in the Great Hall. Could I request a small tour?”
Katherine waited for the fluttering feeling she’d felt before, but it didn’t come. Lord Barwood’s smile was just as charming as before, but nothing. Maybe it was all the food sitting heavilyin her stomach, and the lingering knowledge that Lord Barwood almost certainly wouldn’t have the same interest in novels.
“Of course,” she said, as if there was any other response to give. She turned to Timothy, who was now standing awkwardly behind his dining chair, not quite looking at either of them. “Do excuse us, Mr. Rutherford.”
Timothy gave a neat bow and a smile. “Of course. Have fun, please.”
He met her eye, just for a minute. He had green eyes, Katherine noticed. She knew, in a disinterested sort of way, that Timothy Rutherforddidhave green eyes, but suddenly, they seemed even more vivid than usual. Had he always had streaks of gold in them?
Then Lord Barwood cleared his throat, and Katherine blinked as if waking from a reverie.
“I’ll see you later, I’m sure,” Katherine said, smiling. “Goodbye, Timothy.”
It was only as they were walking away that she realized she’d used his first name, which of course was entirely inappropriate. Even if he was one of her brother’s closest friends.
*****
The sun was rising by the time the last carriage rattled away down the drive.
Katherine stood by the doorway with the boys, waving. At least, with William and Alexander. Henry had been unaccounted for during most of the night, and had at some point taken himself off, whether to a club, an artist’s gathering, or bed, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Lord Barwood had been one of the last guests to leave, and had said his goodbyes slowly, with many smiles and hand-kisses.
Alexander was leaning against the wall, yawning, while William stood with his back straight at the doorway, not quite ready to abandon his host-persona.
Timothy had left sometime earlier in the evening. He hadn’t said goodbye, although perhaps she’d been too engrossed with Lord Barwood to notice.
“Katherine?” the Duchess materialized at her elbow. “I’d like a word, before you go to bed.”
It wasn’t much of a request. Katherine was exhausted, naturally, but she’d gotten to the stage of tiredness when she felt strangely numb and disconnected, almost as if she were floating along the halls, following her mother’s black silk train rustling around corners.
The Duchess led the way to the morning room she used for her own personal use. A fire was lit, crackling merrily, warming the room and the rising sun filled the room with light.
She closed the door firmly.
“I noticed you making an effort with Lord Barwood,” the Duchess said, in the tremulous, quiet voice she’d adopted since her husband’s death. “He’s an eminently suitable man.”
