“Dorothea!”
The little girl flinched, head whipping up at her father’s bark. Catriona eyes widened at the stern look on Joseph’s face.
“That was rude. Apologize.”
“But I?—”
“You know better than to talk back to me,” he snapped. “Apologize. Now.”
Dorothea sank into his leg, away from Ava and Maisie. “Please forgive me,” she murmured so quietly that she could barely be heard.
Discomfort filled the room. “It’s quite all right,” Maisie assured her gently. “I truly was quite an emotional child.”
But the damage was already done. Dorothea eyes remained fixed on the ground. Ava and Maisie stood, taking a step back. Catriona glared at Joseph, and when he caught the stare, he frowned a little as if he did not understand what he’d done to receive it.
“Let us make haste to the dining room then, shall we?” Frederic suggested and began ushering everyone out.
“Let’s hope that Cook made raspberry tarts today,” Ava said, which earned a bit of laughter, diffusing the tension a bit. But Catriona’s attention was still on Joseph, glaring at him as if that would be enough to give him a piece of her mind. And he stared back at her with as much intensity though it was clear he hadn’t seen what he’d done wrong.
She would tell him at the earliest opportunity, she promised herself. The night could not end without letting him know how little she appreciated the way he treated his daughter.
Catriona was upset with him.
Joseph couldn’t fathom why, especially seeing that he and Dorothea had only arrived less than thirty minutes ago. But the look his future wife was giving him was enough to melt steel.A weaker man would have folded instantly, sweating profusely under the weight of her persistent glare. But Joseph wasn’t a weak man. He’d faced hardier men with the steeliness of a man who been through far too much in his life. A small-framed lady with big green eyes shouldn’t be enough to throw him off his balance.
And yet…
He squirmed uncomfortably, trying to pay attention to the conversation at hand. Miss Ava, he’d learned, was quite an active young lady and was currently in a heated discussion with Lord Heaton on whether ladies should be able to participate at the Royal Ascot. Lord Heaton seemed only to be indulging her by playing devil’s advocate for the purpose of amusing himself, and everyone seemed to be aware of that fact except for Miss Ava herself.
And maybe Catriona. Joseph couldn’t tell if she was paying the conversation much mind since her attention seemed solely focused on him.
Unable to help himself a moment longer, he looked at her. Her scowl deepened, and she jabbed her fork into her peas with remarkable aim before slowly raising it to her lips. Joseph thinned his lips. Why did it feel as if he was just threatened?
“Tell me you agree with me, Your Grace.”
Joseph tore his gaze away from Catriona, frowning at Miss Ava who had twisted completely in her seat to face him. “Pardon me?”
“Don’t bring him into your madness, Ava,” Miss Maisie sighed, sounding both exasperated and amused. “He has long since stopped listening to your argument.”
“It is not an argument,” Miss Ava expressed. “I am only stating my point, and you lot have decided to disagree with me, even though it is clear that I am right.”
“Are you?” Lord Heaton taunted before raising his glass to his lips, hiding his smile. Ava gave him a venomous look. Apparently those expressions ran in the family.
She didn’t bother to respond to her uncle however. She simply turned back to Joseph and asked, “Don’t you think that ladies should be allowed to take part in horse racing events if they wish?”
He didn’t answer immediately, even though a response came to mind. Instead, he swept his gaze across the table, noting that the Wallace family seemed to truly care what his stance was. Even Catriona, though she regarded him with quiet consternation as if she knew she was not going to like what he was about to say.
He held in his sigh. Perhaps choosing Catriona to be his wife had been a mistake. Was it worth marrying into this excitable family that was bound to upend his quiet life?
“I think women should be allowed to do whatever they wish,” he responded at last. “Who am I to tell them not to?”
Ava’s eyes went wide with elation. “Oh, I’m so happy you will be marrying my sister! Finally, a man with the sense to see a lady’s worth beyond her embroidery skills.”
“Did she just call me misogynistic?” Lord Heaton murmured to Maisie, who nodded somberly.
“I believe she did,” Maisie whispered back.
Their words faded to the background. Joseph was far too aware of Catriona setting her fork down and patting her lips delicately with her napkin, as if she was preparing to either speak or leave the table.
