“That is precisely what I told him,” Richard said so flatly that she did a double take. Only to realize that he was teasing her again. She was tempted to pinch him. She made a sour expression as he laughed at her. “I am very pleased that it brings you happiness, Lady Catherine. I know that I have said it many times before, but I am truly sorry for how everything happened.”
“I have started to forgive you,” she said with a grin.
“Ah, so I just need to send even more exuberant presents and gifts. That is the key?” He smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead softly. “Why did I not think of it sooner!”
“You are incorrigible.”
Richard’s smile wavered. “Anything to keep as much distance between myself and my father as possible.”
She wondered, absently, if the notion of turning out like his father was something that kept him up at night. She could only imagine how hard it must have been for him to make and maintain friendships with a man intent on running his son’s life on his behalf. Though, it was not as if her father was any better. Just another thing that they had in common, she supposed. Terrible fathers.
She would still choose her own father over the duke, that much she was certain of.
“Your father would not have even thought twice had they chosen to chop my beloved pianoforte into bits and pieces and used it as kindling. You have nothing to worry about there,” Catherine answered, with no small amount of bitterness.
“True, but I worry about it all the same,” Richard answered flatly.
A small part of her had hoped that he might combat the statement, but he only confirmed her suspicions.
“You cannot allow it to dictate your whole life, you know,” Catherine said softly. “Fear can be a very powerful motivator…but it can also limit you just as greatly. You have already gone above and beyond to prove that you are nothing like him. I understand your motivations…but you have to also be able to stand on your own two feet.”
“Perhaps I should take lessons from you.” Richard paused in walking as she did. The pair of them took a seat on a small, secluded bench beneath a large oak tree. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, providing a layer of shade over their heads. Sunlight filtered through the branches and danced across their faces as they sat there. A soft floral and herb scent wrapped around the natural earthiness of the trees from her small garden.
Richard paused to admire the way she looked, so much more at ease in her skin than he had witnessed before. He shifted to pluck a small white flower from near where they were seated. He spun the small thing between his fingers, almost nervous at the thought of touching her again. He tucked the small bloom behind her ear, letting the stark contrast of white against her raven hair hold his attention.
The simplicity of the gesture sat strangely with Catherine as his focus shifted from the flower to her bright blue eyes. It felt as if he were offering more than just a flower, but something more that she could not name. Butterflies lifted in her stomach, fluttering up with a nervous sensation that tingled all over her skin. Her knee touched his softly from how she angled herself toward him.
Every conversation with him became so much simpler. She found that she did not mind his company. She kepttouchinghim without even meaning to. She had notmeantto take his arm, but it was like her body could not keep away. It would not listen to any semblance of reason. Perhaps…perhaps she had been too hasty in rejecting him after all.
He wasterriblyhandsome.
If their engagement would be more of this…she could do it. Richard reached for her hand, cupping her gloved hand in his own. His attention dropped to her lips. A silent warning that perhaps he was thinking of her in the same way that her dreams had been thinking about himconstantly. Could there truly be a genuine connection here? Could he desire her forherand not simply just wish to have something to lash out at his father for?
His thumb brushed over the back of her satin-covered hand as Richard leaned in closer. Her heart fluttered right up to her throat. He was going to kiss her, was he not? She stood at a crossroads. Choose to see what might possibly exist between the pair of them, or reject him and any hope of exploring it. She was unsure and unsettled. It was too much, too soon. She needed to be rational about this. She could not let the moment sweep her away.
Catherine turned her head with a demure grin. Words of apology nearly tumbled from her lips, but she would not allow them to.
Why had she stopped him?
She had been literally dreaming of kissing him for days. Among other things. The opportunity was here. Why had she turned away? She could not fully explain it, other than the strange feeling in her gut that this was not therightmoment.
“You know, there could be a very good opportunity to repurpose some of the items collected by debtors for those less fortunate,” Catherine said quickly. “I have quite a long history of charitable connections and support…I would love to be able to be helpful in that capacity. Perhaps there is some way that we could bridge the gap. I…I think that it would vex your father greatly.”
She felt as if her face were on fire. She could no longer meet his gaze. Her hand slipped from his as she fidgeted anxiously with her skirts. She missed the warmth of his hand instantly. She felt the absence of him keenly…it was such a small comfort that he had so readily offered to her…she was tempted to take his hand once more and explain that it was merely nerves that had gotten the better of her.
But if she did that, then he was going to think that it was her answer to his question. The one that she had been avoiding because she was overwhelmed and underprepared. A match with him would make her mother blissfully happy. But was that truly a good enough reason to marry someone?
For an even longer moment, she feared that Lord Landry was going to be cross with her. The men that she had rejected in the past had always gotten upset with her when she did or said something that did not align with the version of her that they wished for her to be. But, to his credit, he merely pulled his hand back toward himself and nodded.
He even managed a kind smile.
“I think that you might be correct. He would be forced to go along with whatever we presented to him in a charitable capacity, or else he would be seen in a negative light. That is the only thing that he truly fears.” Lord Landry rubbed at the back of his head for a moment before nodding again. “Yes, it could certainly work. He would not like parting with the treasures that he feels that he has won.”
“Making the best of a terrible situation.”
“Indeed,” Lord Landry agreed. “Though, I will not deny that I will take a great amount of pleasure in seeing the vein in my father’s forehead come close to bursting at the very notion. We shall have to go about planning things carefully. He has a great amount of items he has won and swindled away over the years.”
“I can only imagine! A veritable museum of things,” Catherine gushed.
