Monsieur Claude concludes the accompaniment with twotriumphant beats and laughs along with them. Catherine smiles over at him and then looks to Lady Rosalie. Her curls are a little disarrayed, and her cheeks are pink.
Catherine’s breathing hard, her own face hot, mouth still split in a smile.
“You’re a quick study,” Lady Rosalie says.
“You’re a good teacher,” Catherine admits. “Mean, but good.”
Lady Rosalie cackles, her laughter ringing around the room so pleasantly. “That is exactly what I’m going for.”
“You should teach children. They’d learn in days,” Catherine suggests, delighted at the way Lady Rosalie snickers.
“I should not. I made a girl cry once trying to teach her arpeggios.
“It was my daughter. She still won’t touch a pianoforte,” Monsieur Claude says.
There’s the sound of a commotion suddenly on the other side of the dais. Catherine can hear chatter beginning to echo about the room.
Lady Rosalie laughs and takes Catherine’s arm. “Do give her my best, would you? Bonne performance, Monsieur Claude. Thank you for your time.”
“Of course, my lady,” he says, standing to give them both a bow.
Lady Rosalie tugs gently on Catherine’s arm, leading her back out into the main room and toward the waiting phalanx of guests queueing at the entrance.
Lady Rosalie’s parents approach the crowd, all smiles. Catherine looks for her parents and spots them standing near the entrance to a side room, chatting with the couple they saw when they first arrived. Mother doesn’t look too strained, thoughCatherine can tell she’s still gripping Father’s arm rather hard. But at least she’s smiling.
“My aunt and uncle will take good care of your parents, don’t fret,” Lady Rosalie says.
“Of course not,” Catherine says quickly, not wanting to let on that anything might be amiss. She got to practice dance moves while her mother faced her greatest betrayer.
“Now, stay close to me. I’ll be sure to introduce you to all the right people. Present you to society properly.”
Catherine bites back a retort. There was nothing improper about her own cousin’s introductions at the Assembly Room, nor her parents’ ability to introduce her to theright people.
But she shouldn’t let on. She and Lady Rosalie have just spent a surprisingly fun few minutes together, and allowing her to think she retains the upper hand is the whole point, isn’t it? Catherine will lie in wait to prove her wrong, slowly, steadily, stealthily.
Though as they join the receiving line and Catherine curtsies time and time again, she begins to wonder if it might truly be easier to just let Lady Rosalie have at it and simply give over to her power.
“And how is your cousin—MissGetling? Has her rheumatism improved on the Continent?” Lady Rosalie asks a tall broad gentleman. Catherine thinks his name might be Mr.Darton.
“It has,” he says, surprised. “I’ll tell her you asked after her. It’ll make her whole week.”
Lady Rosalie smiles, and it’s a crafted expression—nothing like the amused delight from their dance earlier—but no less dazzling. “Please do remind her about my father’s friend in Lorraine. She should call and see the orchards.”
“I will,” the man says, bowing to them before heading off.
“Have you ever been to the Continent, MissPine?” Lady Rosalie asks.
There’s a momentary lull in the procession of guests and Catherine allows her shoulders to come down. If she remembers one-eighth of these names, it will be a triumph.
“I haven’t. Have you?”
“Twice,” Lady Rosalie says, gesturing toward the chairs.
Catherine lets her lead, the two of them smiling as guests mill around them, slowly heading toward their seats.
“Was it wonderful?”
“Parts of it, yes,” Lady Rosalie says with a shrug. “Sometimes it’s just as boring as Bath.”
