She hadn’t doubted that her sisters would attract the attention of the gentlemen in attendance. They were utterly beautiful tonight after all. And she understood the appeal of something new. They might have been in England for the last two years, but it was their first time attending a Season event. It lent them an intriguing air that the other ladies may not benefit from.
But Ava was Ava. Even though she was acting rather unlike herself, Catriona couldn’t help the twinge of uncertainty. Ava knew how to dance and bat her eyelashes like the best of them—Catriona had made sure of it—but who knew when she would decide to say or do anything that the ton would not find ladylike?
“Excuse me?”
Catriona’s heart soared as she turned to face yet another gentleman. And it was obvious who he had approached for. His eyes latched onto Maisie with such intensity that Catriona wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t realized that she was standing right there.
It happened as quickly as it had with Lord Wentworth. The enamored gentleman introduced himself as the Viscount of Lorry and asked Maisie to dance with him. Maisie blushed prettily at the request and, after seeking Catriona’s permission with a quick look, graciously accepted, allowing herself to be led away by the Viscount. Catriona was sure one dance would be fine.
And then Catriona was all alone.
Her smile lingered as she watched her sisters. This was what she’d wanted after all. And despite her nervousness, she had been confident that the night would end with at least some interest shown in her sisters. She was simply pleasantly surprised to find that it had happened so quickly. It was only the second dance set after all.
It took a moment for it to hit. The unexpected, soul-piercing loneliness. Catriona tossed the feeling aside the moment she felt it, but it came rushing back with an intensity she didn’t expect.She’d been prepared for this after all. At three-and-twenty, with no experience or acquaintances among the ton, she stood no chance of finding a husband, and she had long since come to terms with that. She had to focus on Ava and Maisie, not the deep-rooted loneliness that seemed to be weeding its way through every crevice of her mind.
Catriona sighed and began searching for her uncle. He should be the one introducing them to his acquaintances. He might have been a recluse for most of his adult life, but he was still the Earl of Heaton. And judging from his boisterous laughter from across the room, he had no issue socializing when the situation called for it.
Catriona spotted him standing by one of the parlor doors, engaged in a hearty conversation with an older couple. She took one step in his direction and was immediately cut off by two ladies sliding in front of her.
She took a step back, taking in their haughty expressions and the superior curves of their lips, and instantly knew that the incoming conversation would not be a pleasant one.
“May I help you?” she asked.
The one to the left, a pretty thing with blond hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, laughed. “I think it is you who needs the help, Miss Wallace. Don’t you think you are a little out of your depth here?”
Catriona tilted her head slightly to the side. “You will have to be more specific.”
She hadn’t said anything particularly funny, and yet the girls laughed. She had a feeling that it was at her expense.
The other lady, dark-haired with an upturned nose that would have lent her rather adorable demeanor had it not been for the mean-spirited glint in her eyes, said, “You’re smarter than that, Miss Wallace. You must understand by now that you do not belong here.”
“I don’t?”
“Look around you. This room is full of highly bred ladies and gentlemen who understand their places in life. Perhaps someone should have told you, but you stand very little chance of securing a husband when you are surrounded by ladies so far above you.”
“Like yourselves, I assume?”
They didn’t like her tone, judging by the way their lips turned downwards in unison. “She isn’t very bright,” the blond one said.
“Yes, quite dull indeed,” the other agreed. “Don’t you understand what we’re trying to say to you?”
“I understand quite well,” Catriona stated. Her tone was calm, easily masking the tremor of fury smoldering in the pit of herstomach. “What I don’t understand is why you think I would care about your opinions.”
“Let us enlighten you then,” said the blond. “I am Cassandra Pottinger.”
Catriona blinked, staring impassively at her.
The dark-haired lady grew upset on her friend’s behalf. “She is the daughter of the Duke of Williamshire,” she exclaimed. “And the fact that you don’t know that only further proves our point.”
“And you?” Catriona asked, raising a brow. “Are you her maid?”
She sputtered, eyes wide with indignation. “How dare you! I am the daughter of the Marquess of Harroway, and you will show me respect!”
“I only show respect to those who deserve it,” Catriona stated. “So, perhaps it is because I am dull indeed, but I do not understand why you think that you do, given the way you have been talking to me.”
“You don’t understand yourself,” Cassandra hissed.
“I understand myself quite well,” Catriona responded with ease.
