She can’t imagine he thinks Mr.Dean should propose here, today. He can’t seriously think she’d accept without even a brief apology to her mother. But then again, perhaps Mr. Dean will simply pretend it never happened. Pretend he too doesn’t remember.
Thankfully, finally, Rosalie, Christopher, Amalie, Henrietta, and Lady Tisend enter the room. Rosalie spots her right away, and she watches with some amusement as a chain of jerking elbows alerts the rest of the group. Amalie and Christopher are arm in arm.
Henrietta waves at her, and then at Mr. Rile behind her. Which should, hopefully, give her some salvation. And sure enough, Henrietta grabs Amalie’s hand, tugging her away from Christopher, who pouts. Lady Tisend’s too busy looking at therest of the room with a sour face to notice, but Rosalie’s laughing. And that’s something, at least.
“MissPine, what a delightful room you and your mother have put together,” Henrietta announces, stepping right into their circle and forcing all of the gentlemen to make way for her.
“Thank you,” Catherine says, watching as Amalie scooches in beside her, ignoring Mr.Fortes’ intrigued look. “You both look lovely.”
“You certainly do, my dear,” Mr.Rile says, beckoning Henrietta to join him across the circle.
Henrietta grins, leaving Amalie beside Catherine. She crosses the circle and slips in flush with Mr.Rile. “You look exceedingly handsome,” she says.
The circle chuckles and Mr.Rile blushes. Catherine glances at Mr.Dean to find him frowning, clearly disgruntled at the interruption. Heaven forfend some of the men mightwantto talk to the ladies.
“We’ve been discussing their upcoming hunting trips,” Catherine tells the girls.
“Going north or west, gentlemen?” Amalie asks.
Raised eyebrows all around.
“North,” Mr.Fortes says. “To my father’s property as usual.”
“How lovely,” Amalie says without looking at him.
Mr.Fortes looks a little crestfallen. Mr.Rile snickers into his handkerchief and exchanges a look with Henrietta.
“And Mr.Dean, where will you be going?” Amalie asks.
“I’ll be heading north as well, starting on the expansive Dean estate, and then working my way eastward again toward Wales. Father has a few cousins with grand lands there as well, and we’ll follow the game for the season.”
“I imagine that will take you from Bath for most of the summer,” Amalie says.
“It will. Though I hope to make frequent trips back to visit.”
Catherine can feel him looking down at her and forces herself not to react.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Amalie says, ducking out of the circle.
“My father’s lands are rich in grouse and deer,” Henrietta says. “Mr.Rile will of course be coming to shoot.”
“I am most excited to see the Raught lands,” Mr.Rile jumps in.
Catherine ignores the way Mr.Dean is holding even more tightly to her elbow, almost as though he’s goading her into meeting his eyes. Instead, she glances over her shoulder, trying to spot her mother. The last of the guests have trickled in now, and everyone is merely milling about, waiting to start the tea.
Catherine can’t see Rosalie anywhere. They’re running out of time.
“Mr.Dean, Mr.Tisend was just telling me how eager he was to show you his uncle’s lake,” Amalie announces, appearing back in the circle with Christopher in tow, and holding two almost overflowing wineglasses. “MissRaught,” she says, holding one out for Henrietta.
Mr.Rile grabs it for her with a grin, still going on about the Raught lands. Amalie then muscles in next to Catherine, forcing Christopher in beside her.
Mr.Dean frowns over at them. “I’m not sure I’ll have the time after all, Mr.Tisend, but I might—”
“Oh, do let me implore you,” Christopher says gamely, nudging Amalie to make her stop smiling. “In fact, I’ve got a schedule planned, if you’d be willing to discuss it. I’m sure we can find a time.”
“Now?” Mr. Dean asks, glancing around, his arm still tight on Catherine’s elbow. It’s starting to hurt.
“My fishing compatriot leaves the day after tomorrow. It won’t take but a minute. MissPine doesn’t mind, does she?”
