He nodded, throat thickening. It was certainly easier than trying to figure out what to say to her.
Joseph straightened and moved to the side as Dorothea stepped uncertainly into the room. He watched as she looked around, drinking in every inch. He realized suddenly that this was her first time seeing where he slept.
“Get in bed, Dorothea,” he said, a little sharper than he intended it to come out.
She nodded and did as she was told. She looked so small sitting in the center of his bed, staring at him. Joseph hovered nearby, awkward, racking his brain for what to say to her.
What would Catriona have done in this moment?
She would have gathered Dorothea into her arms, if the younger girl allowed it, stroked her hair, and whispered words of comfort to her until Dorothea relaxed. She would have made Dorothea laugh, and if she felt it appropriate, she would have askedDorothea if she wanted to talk about the dream. He didn’t know how he knew, but he could see it in his mind’s eye. Catriona holding Dorothea to her chest and soothing her to sleep as if she were her very own.
The thought brought on a wave of emotions he could not understand.
“Daddy? Are you all right?”
Joseph blinked, refocusing his attention on his daughter. “I should be the one asking you that.”
She twisted her finger into the mattress, not breaking eye contact for a single moment. “I feel a little better now that I am with you.”
Joseph drifted closer, sitting on the bed. “Was this the first time you’ve had a bad dream?”
Dorothea shook her head slowly. “I have them sometimes.”
“But you’ve never told me about them before.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you. You always work late, so I thought that if I interrupted your sleep, you would be mad at me.”
That assumption bothered him more than he could ever express. “You could never be a bother to me, Dorothea.”
Dorothea nodded as if she knew that all along. “Stepmother says that too. She says that I should go and interrupt you as many times as I wish.”
The mention of Catriona, the reference to her as her stepmother, did something unspeakable to him. “When did she tell you that?”
“When we were planting our flowers—” Dorothea broke off, slapping both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.
It made him laugh. “I already know about your little secret in the garden, Dorothea.”
“You do? How?”
“You two have not been as discreet as you think you have been.”
She frowned slightly. “And you aren’t mad at me?”
“The truth was that I was a little mad at Catriona first. I could not believe she had allowed you to do such a thing as a young lady.”
“It isn’t her fault,” Dorothea defended quickly. “She thought it would cheer me up! And I begged her to go back after. Please don’t be mad at her.”
“I’m not mad at her,” he assured her, a little touched at how quickly Dorothea had jumped to Catriona’s defense. He hadn’trealized just how attached Dorothea had grown to her. “Now that I think about it, I think it was a wonderful idea. And I’m happy you are enjoying yourself.”
Dorothea visibly relaxed at that. She hesitated and then asked, “Will you join us next time, then?”
Joseph was tempted to say yes. It surprised him, actually, how quickly the word rushed to the tip of his tongue. But then he recalled the fact that Catriona had not looked at him once since their dance tonight, and suddenly, he felt cold inside. “Perhaps it is best if you and Catriona do it together by yourselves.”
“Why? It could be like when we went to the picnic.”
“I don’t think Catriona will appreciate my presence,” he couldn’t help but admit.
Dorothea tilted her head to the side. “Did you upset her?”
