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Authors: Sarah M. Eden
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herself. Mary had pulled her honey-colored hair into an intricate twist, graceful curls framing her face. The pearl pendant Lizzie had insisted Catherine wear perfectly complemented the sprigs of baby’s breath Mary had placed in her hair.
Catherine studied her reflection. Much to her surprise, she had a figure. Somehow she still pictured herself with precisely the same proportions she’d had at twelve. She’d never been beautiful but had always wanted to be. Her uncle would have set her down quite drastically to hear her think something so vain.
“The gentlemen will take us to task for keeping them waiting so long,” Lizzie said with a laugh. “I suppose we shouldn’t torture them further.”
Catherine nodded mindlessly.
“You are nervous.” Lizzie smiled at her in the mirror.
“I am.” Excessively so.
Lizzie squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “Now. Take a deep breath.”
Catherine obeyed.
“I do that whenever I feel nervous,” Lizzie confided. “It always helps.”
Catherine doubted the confident Lady Henley was ever very nervous. Three very deep breaths later, Catherine walked out of her rooms. She didn’t want to embarrass Crispin. She didn’t want him to regret her presence any more than he already did.
Chapter Seven
“And how do you think the new Lady Cavratt will fare this evening?” Edward asked Crispin as they waited in the sitting room.
“Honestly, Edward, if Catherine doesn’t cast up her accounts on the Hardfords’ dining room table, I will consider the evening more successful than I am anticipating it being.”
“No need to go borrowing so much trouble,” Edward assured him. “I have a feeling Catherine will surprise all of us tonight. Lizzie has complete confidence in her.”
Edward’s innate optimism and cheerful nature were the very reason Crispin had so readily approved of his pursuit of Lizzie the year they were courting. She spent most of their childhood attempting to force smiles out of her “gloomy” older brother. He’d felt a tremendous responsibility for her since their father’s death. Crispin would never have allowed her to be forced into an unwanted marriage, and he couldn’t have parted with her to anyone less perfect for her than Edward.
Lizzie also claimed that love had brought them together. Crispin called it divine intervention. Another Season of escorting his sister and worrying over the unworthies who clamored for her attention, and he would have put himself out of his misery.
“Don’t be nervous.” Lizzie’s amused voice rang out from the other side of the door, obviously speaking to Catherine.
If she needed reassurance among the three of them, she was doomed. Where was divine intervention when he truly needed it?
Lizzie slipped inside the sitting room alone. “Catherine will be but a moment. Mary insisted on one more pin in her hair.”
He paced to the window. Crispin had half a mind to give Lady Hardford their excuses—Catherine had been through enough already. He could certainly invent some drastic enough reason to cry off at the last minute: illness, an unexpected trip to the country, leprosy. “Is she going to survive?”
“Mary is seldom dangerous with hairpins.”
“Very funny. Of course I meant will she survive the dinner party.”
Lizzie merely laughed at him. “I’m not sure you will survive. You are in a tizzy already.”
“I am not in a tizzy.” Crispin turned from the window to face his sister.
Lizzie smiled triumphantly. “I declared Catherine would be absolutely stunning, and so she is. You will have to humbly beg my pardon all the way to the millinery where my new bonnet is waiting.”
“I never doubted she would look nice,” Crispin said. “She has always been pretty. I just . . .” He pushed out a breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous over a simple dinner party. “Catherine is anxious enough as it is. She shouldn’t also have to worry over her
Catherine studied her reflection. Much to her surprise, she had a figure. Somehow she still pictured herself with precisely the same proportions she’d had at twelve. She’d never been beautiful but had always wanted to be. Her uncle would have set her down quite drastically to hear her think something so vain.
“The gentlemen will take us to task for keeping them waiting so long,” Lizzie said with a laugh. “I suppose we shouldn’t torture them further.”
Catherine nodded mindlessly.
“You are nervous.” Lizzie smiled at her in the mirror.
“I am.” Excessively so.
Lizzie squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “Now. Take a deep breath.”
Catherine obeyed.
“I do that whenever I feel nervous,” Lizzie confided. “It always helps.”
Catherine doubted the confident Lady Henley was ever very nervous. Three very deep breaths later, Catherine walked out of her rooms. She didn’t want to embarrass Crispin. She didn’t want him to regret her presence any more than he already did.
Chapter Seven
“And how do you think the new Lady Cavratt will fare this evening?” Edward asked Crispin as they waited in the sitting room.
“Honestly, Edward, if Catherine doesn’t cast up her accounts on the Hardfords’ dining room table, I will consider the evening more successful than I am anticipating it being.”
“No need to go borrowing so much trouble,” Edward assured him. “I have a feeling Catherine will surprise all of us tonight. Lizzie has complete confidence in her.”
Edward’s innate optimism and cheerful nature were the very reason Crispin had so readily approved of his pursuit of Lizzie the year they were courting. She spent most of their childhood attempting to force smiles out of her “gloomy” older brother. He’d felt a tremendous responsibility for her since their father’s death. Crispin would never have allowed her to be forced into an unwanted marriage, and he couldn’t have parted with her to anyone less perfect for her than Edward.
Lizzie also claimed that love had brought them together. Crispin called it divine intervention. Another Season of escorting his sister and worrying over the unworthies who clamored for her attention, and he would have put himself out of his misery.
“Don’t be nervous.” Lizzie’s amused voice rang out from the other side of the door, obviously speaking to Catherine.
If she needed reassurance among the three of them, she was doomed. Where was divine intervention when he truly needed it?
Lizzie slipped inside the sitting room alone. “Catherine will be but a moment. Mary insisted on one more pin in her hair.”
He paced to the window. Crispin had half a mind to give Lady Hardford their excuses—Catherine had been through enough already. He could certainly invent some drastic enough reason to cry off at the last minute: illness, an unexpected trip to the country, leprosy. “Is she going to survive?”
“Mary is seldom dangerous with hairpins.”
“Very funny. Of course I meant will she survive the dinner party.”
Lizzie merely laughed at him. “I’m not sure you will survive. You are in a tizzy already.”
“I am not in a tizzy.” Crispin turned from the window to face his sister.
Lizzie smiled triumphantly. “I declared Catherine would be absolutely stunning, and so she is. You will have to humbly beg my pardon all the way to the millinery where my new bonnet is waiting.”
“I never doubted she would look nice,” Crispin said. “She has always been pretty. I just . . .” He pushed out a breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous over a simple dinner party. “Catherine is anxious enough as it is. She shouldn’t also have to worry over her
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