Page 31 of An Offer for a Spinster
Lady Katherine nibbled her lower lip. “I think if I were Hero, I wouldn’t have taken him back. Oh, I know that she had no choice, and that she was likely happy enough with the way things worked out. But how could she ever trust him again? Without trust, there can be no love.”
“Perhaps so, but love is more than emotion. It’s principle, isn’t it? One decides to love as much as onedoeslove. And Hero, for all her faults as a character, was exceptionally loving.”
Lady Katherine considered this for a moment and nodded slowly. “I think perhaps you’re right.”
Then Lord Barwood cleared his throat pointedly behind them. He’d spent most of the first acts yawning mightily, but now was taking offence to a little whispering. Suppressing an eye roll, Katherine straightened up, returning her attention to the stage.
She shot Timothy a quick, knowing look, and heat filled his chest. Smiling weakly back, he tried to pay attention to the rest of the play.
***
The play was over. Applause had been given, lots of it, and the actors had come out and made their bows. People were leaving. Far below them, in the pit of the theatre, the ordinary folks were fighting chaotically around, trying to get to the exits, talking and laughing and shouting. The boxes were a little more orderly, with finely dressed men and women taking their time, enjoying genteel conversation, no doubt discussing where to go next.
Timothy, of course, would be going home. He would drop Amelia and Rebecca off at the family home, and then return alone to his apartments, which would be dark and silent, waiting for him.
He half turned to Lady Katherine and caught her looking at him. There was something odd about her gaze, something thoughtful and… was that wistfulness? If only he could read the faces of real people like he could his characters. Real people were complicated and never did what they were supposed to do.
“I enjoyed the performance very much,” Lady Katherine said, her voice dipped as it had been during the play, as if she were speaking to Timothy and Timothy alone. Her voice spread over his skin like water and wasn’tthata curious image.
“I… I did, too,” he managed. “I thought that…”
“I’m surprised you heard a word of it,” came Lord Barwood’s firm, crisp voice, “with all the chattering you two did.”
Lady Katherine’s expression smoothed out into the Society mask so many ladies adopted. She flashed a quick, tight-lipped smile up at him.
“On the contrary, Lord Barwood. I heard every word.”
The man smiled tightly. Timothy suspected that he did not like to be contradicted. He was ignoring Rebecca and Amelia entirely, and barely spared a glance for Timothy.
“Well, my dear, I think we had better be going, don’t you? After all, we want to keep up your strength for tomorrow. We will be promenading together,” he added to Timothy, not quite able to keep a smug smile from his face.
Timothy nodded, keeping his expression blank. A lady and gentleman – unrelated and unengaged – meant only one thing. An interest was indicated. It was a sign to the world. Something clenched in his gut, but he stayed stiff and still in his seat.
“How lovely,” he remarked.
Lord Barwood extended one elegant hand to Lady Katherine. She took it, rising mechanically, and the two of them took their leave, gliding out of the box with the maid in tow.
Timothy sat heavily back against his seat, watching the rapidly emptying theatre. It had seemed so magical before, but now he could see the faded velvet, the chipped gilt, the layers of dust on the mouldings and sculptures that couldn’t be reached.
He spent a moment thinking of the word to describe how he felt. A true author, it didn’t take him long to find it out.
Hollow. That was the world. Hollow, like a cored-out apple.
Chapter Ten
“… of course, Lord Barwood practically slept through the whole play. I could hear him yawning behind me almost incessantly,” Katherine complained, pouring herself a fresh cup of tea. Fortunately, Timothy – that is, Mr. Timothy Rutherford – had a wonderful grasp of the play. We discussed it a great deal and spoke some more about the L. Sterling novels. You know, I really do think he's read them all, like he says. Not like that wretched Mr. Thompson, who claimed to have read the novels when really, he only knew the titles.”
Elizabeth, who’d barely had the opportunity to say a word since Katherine had arrived, sipped her tea meditatively.
They were drinking tea in Elizabeth’s private parlour, the sort of quiet conversations they often enjoyed. Elizabeth was always happy to see her friend. Katherine was such a wonderful person, and the details of her cruel father’s will had upset Elizabeth far more than she cared to let on. Katherine – and her brothers – deserved so much more.
It had never bothered Elizabeth that so many people compared her unfavorably to her pretty, charming friend. It didn’t much matter if gentlemen preferred Katherine to Elizabeth – Katherine herself preferred Elizabeth over any gentleman, and indeed over most people.
This business of Lord Barwood was another worrying element in a very tense storyline, in Elizabeth’s opinion. She intended to write her own novels, like L. Sterling, and she was always on the lookout for new characters, new plot points, and so on.
This story was not playing out as well as she had hoped.
“You mention Timothy a great deal,” she said lightly. “He seems to have been a more pleasant companion than Lord Barwood.”
