“Ten minutes, at least,” Catherine mumbles back, one of her hands creeping up Rosalie’s chest over her dress beneath her pelisse.
“Be a shame to waste ten minutes,” Rosalie whispers.
“It really would,” Catherine agrees, pulling back to meet her eyes as her hand closes over Rosalie’s breast.
Rosalie groans and moves her own hands lower, cupping Catherine’s utterly perfect arse.
“We can figure the rest out in letters, can’t we?” Catherine asks.
She grinds her thigh upward and Rosalie has to clamp her mouth shut around a loud moan. “Fuck yes,” she whispers, leaning up to chase Catherine’s mouth.
Ten minutes passes in the heady blink of an eye, and when footsteps loudly intrude upon their quiet, Rosalie finds she no longer cares about her swollen lips, her red cheeks, her wrinkled dress, or her breathless laughter. Catherine drags her back into the clearing, their fingers wound together proudly.
Their friends eye them knowingly, but Rosalie finds she doesn’t care. They’re going to build the future they both want, together. She’s ready to accept the love and help Amalie, Christopher, and Henrietta are offering, so she can have the love she wants for the rest of her life.
And by the way Catherine’s gripping hard at her hand, she wants the very same thing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Catherine
The tearoom looks exquisite. Mother has gone with a silver, lilac, and blue theme, with tall vases of beautiful flowers at the center of every circular table, laid with white tablecloths with blue serviettes. The silverware is embossed with roses, and small violets have been strung around the room with vines along the backs of the chairs.
“Do you think the centerpieces should be shorter?” Mother asks her, toying with the fingers of her delicate lace gloves.
“Everything is perfect,” Catherine assures her, taking her hands.
“You are both perfect,” Father says, coming up behind Mother and placing his hand on her waist.
She leans into him gratefully. “You have to say that.”
“I don’t,” he insists. “You will absolutely be the most stunning vision anyone has ever seen.”
Their dresses, both a pale blue overlaid with white lace threaded with bits of silver, are truly gorgeous. Madame Florent outdid herself. And MissTeit did wonders with both of their hair, studding little jewels into their elegant braided buns, leaving delicate curls to frame their faces. Father looks great in his new black suit as well.
For a moment, Catherine wishes she could freeze time right here. Stay in the anticipation of everything changing withouthaving to live to see it through. Before she and Rosalie discover whether her mother can really forgive Lady Tisend. And after that, whether she can forgive Catherine for wanting a life so different from the one she’s tried to give her.
It makes her stomach tight. But horribly, and thankfully, they can hear the first guests ascending the grand staircase in the hallway.
“Come, come,” Mother says, grabbing Catherine’s and Father’s hands, leading them to the doors to receive their guests.
“Here we go,” Father whispers.
Mother gestures to the porters, who open the doors to the tearoom, revealing a line of guests moving up the staircase, led by Mr.Dean and his father.
Rosalie and her mother are, of course, nowhere to be seen. They’re either further back, or haven’t arrived at all. Catherine’s on her own, at least for now.
She pastes on her best smile, trying to look welcoming. One glance at Mother proves she’s no more excited to see Lord Dean than Catherine is. But true to form, her gracious “Lord Dean, Mr.Dean, welcome, we are so grateful to have you here with us” sounds positively radiant.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Mr.Dean says, taking Mother’s hand to kiss it before taking Catherine’s. “MissPine, you look wonderful,” he says.
“Thank you,” Catherine says. She knows.
“Have we met?” Lord Dean asks, looking between them.
Catherine stares at Lord Dean, feeling Mother stiffen in surprise. Does he not—
“And Mr.Pine, I am delighted to introduce you to my father,” Mr.Dean says quickly. “Father, I believe you knew Mr.Pine’s father rather well.”
