“I told you she had a quick mind, and an eagerness to learn,” Rian said proudly.
“Indeed,” Matthew agreed. “’Tis a pity more of the fair sex do not take such an interest in their futures, especially when it comes to their financial security.”
“How can we, Mr. Turner, when the very idea is frowned upon by most of your own sex?” Catherine asked. “Too many women have no independent means, and are, therefore, at the mercy of their husbands.”
“Then you are most fortunate, Mrs. Connor, to have a husband who recognizes the value of allowing his wife knowledge of his financial affairs.”
“Indeed I am, Mr. Turner,” Catherine murmured as she smiled at Rian. “Indeed I am.”
Their business concluded, Rian insisted Matthew join them for lunch at a nearby tavern. Catherine was delighted to find the staid and somber man of business had another side to his character. He regaled both of them with hilarious, but still discreet, tales of financial mishap.
“I’m not sure everything Mr. Turner told us was completely true,” Catherine said with a wry smile, holding Rian’s hand during the carriage ride back to the townhouse.
“Perhaps not, but he was entertaining, wasn’t he?” Rian chuckled enjoying the feel of her fingers entwined with his own. “And I feel certain that if he did bend the truth a little, it was only to protect another’s good name.”
The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of activity, giving both Catherine and Felicity barely time to change their clothes, and catch their breath before heading from one delightful distraction to another. That night Catherine fell into an exhausted sleep and the nightmare, if it came, did not disturb her rest. Rian wondered if busyness might be the remedy to keep the black dream at bay, and he was determined to make sure his wife had no time to dwell on it, either in bed or out of it.
Only their eagerly anticipated visit to the theater could be considered a failure, marred by an unforeseen consequence. Liam had managed to arrange for them to see the well-known actor, David Garrick, appearing in an unexpected repeat performance of The Alchemist. The comedy was extremely popular, and Mr. Garrick’s reputation well-deserved, but Felicity spent the entire performance in tears.
“The baby!” she sobbed quietly into her handkerchief by way of explanation, refusing to let them leave on her account.
Liam found it very disconcerting to be laughing at the antics on stage while his wife was weeping pitifully beside him.
“I hope this doesn’t mean the child will lack a sense of humor,” Rian whispered in Catherine’s ear, earning a poke in the ribs for his remark.
Visits to the Royal Parks with their beautiful manicured lawns and well-kept gardens were a much more pleasant affair. Felicity confided to Catherine her plan to shamelessly steal some of the designs they saw, so she could incorporate them into her own ideas for Oakhaven.
The day before Isabel’s ball brought a visit from Emily and Charles, along with the dressmaker and their gowns. All three women spent a good deal of time ‘oohing’ and ‘aaahing’ as they selected ribbons, feathers and other decorative accessories, much to the bewildered amusement of their spouses.
“A lot of silly fuss if you ask me,” Charles Pelham declared as he sat with Rian and Liam enjoying a glass of fine Madeira after a leisurely lunch.
“Ah, but the ladies do love it all so,” Rian told him with a wink.
“Yes, indeed they do,” he concurred with a warm smile. “And letting them indulge themselves is just one of the many secrets to a long and happy marriage.”
“What are some of the others?” Liam asked his father-in-law, his tone hopeful.
Charles guffawed. “If I told you then you wouldn’t have the fun of discovering them for yourself, my boy!”
By midafternoon on the following day, there was a definite change in the atmosphere of the house. A tense excitement permeated every room, every corner of every room, and even though Liam tried in vain to get Felicity to rest, he could not help but be captivated by her enthusiasm. Deciding the best course of action was to turn the entire proceedings over to the females in his life, both above and below stairs, Liam sought refuge in his study, only to find his brother had already beaten him there.
“You would think they’d never attended a ball before!” Liam exclaimed as he thankfully accepted the glass of wine Rian poured for him.
“Well in truth, Liam, they probably haven’t. At least I’m certain Catherine hasn’t.”
“There were more people at our wedding than will probably be at Isabel’s party,” his brother grumbled.
“Ah, but at your wedding Felicity spent most of the time in a state of connubial anxiety at being the center of attention. I guarantee she will have more fun this time as an observer, and Catherine wasn’t at your wedding. You really can’t compare the two events,” Rian told his brother kindly.
“But you’re not being backed into a corner and asked ridiculous questions about ribbons and bows. As if I could tell whether a satin bow was more becoming than a velvet one!” Liam muttered in exasperation.
“Come now, Liam, she’s your wife. No question Felicity asks should be considered ridiculous.”
“It’s not my wife who’s doing the asking,” he retorted.
“I’m sure both of them will have a wonderful time,” Rian said with more confidence that he actually felt.
“If they don’t, you can believe we’ll never hear the end of it.”
An hour later they stood waiting patiently in the hall for the women in their lives to appear. Rian had just finished making a succinct comment about the amount of time required to pin up a few curls when the change of expression on Liam’s face stopped him. Turning, he looked up to see Catherine standing at the top of the staircase, and had to remind himself to breathe. What was this mysterious power she possessed? Rian wondered. Just when he was confident that he knew every facet of her personality, every intimate detail of her being, when he felt sure of his ability to recognize the subtleties of her temperament and nature, she could do something as simple as put on a ball gown…and steal the breath from his body with a single look. It was a gentle reminder that he didn’t know quite as much as he thought. And he told himself she couldn’t possibly look more beautiful than she did at this moment.
Catherine descended the staircase draped in layers of antique ivory and gold satin that made her skin shimmer as if dusted with some magical fairy powder. The muted blending gave an almost iridescent glow to the blue of her eyes, and in their depths Rian saw a promise he fully intended to redeem later. Her white blonde curls had been caught up in a fashionable design that was entwined with matching gold ribbons and small fragrant flowers, leaving her neck and shoulders deliciously bare.
The only jewelry she wore was the fabulous canary colored diamond, which nestled between her breasts just inside her décolletage. Its partner protectively covered the plain gold band on her left hand. With a smile on his face, Rian gently hooked his finger beneath the gold chain and pulled the jewel free so it lay outside her bodice.
“Your eyes look exactly as they do when you take me inside you,” he said, leaning down to murmur in her ear. His remark was rewarded by a deep pink flush that began somewhere below the neckline of her gown, and spread rapidly up her throat to brand her cheeks.
A polite cough from above their heads told them that another Mrs. Connor was waiting to make her own grand entrance. The periwinkle blue of Felicity’s gown was complemented by an elaborate silver and pink brocade trim, which brought a delightful warmth to her normally pale skin. The subtle glow was further enhanced by multiple strands of creamy pearls at her throat. Liam had given the necklace to her not long after she had announced her pregnancy. Ropes of companion pearls encircled both wrists while more had been cleverly woven in the upswept elegance of her dark hair. Liam could only stare, his mouth falling open slightly. His little mouse was gone and
had been replaced by the fabulous goddess standing before him. His wife. The mother of his unborn child. His soul mate.
“You are so beautiful,” he told her as she reached his side, his voice cracking with enough emotion to elicit an anxious look from his wife, before she graciously accepted the compliment he paid her.
“Come,” Liam said taking his wife’s arm and addressing his sibling. “We have waited long enough for these beautiful creatures to appear. Let us share them with the world, and prepare to be the envy of all we meet!”
Chapter 15
The house was bathed in light. Hundreds of flickering flames protected behind glass, shone in elaborate wrought-iron candelabras on the outside walk and stairs leading up to the main entrance. Inside, additional light reflected brilliantly from crystal chandeliers. The sound of merriment and bright music assaulted them the moment they stepped over the threshold, and curiosity dispelled whatever nervousness Catherine may have been feeling as she looked about her. Isabel’s home was grandiose on a scale she’d never imagined.
Enormous detailed paintings, idyllic landscapes for the most part, decorated the walls. Marble busts and statues were displayed in the alcoves and recesses. Looking about her, Catherine tried to discern whether there was a theme or purpose to the groupings of paintings, statues, and furniture. She was forced to conclude that if there was one, it escaped her. To her mind the display was nothing more than a vulgar show of wealth.
Her nervousness returned along with a queasy feeling the moment she heard Isabel’s voice. Unmistakable, it cut through the general mélée, ensuring that all attention was turned their way. Catherine gripped Rian’s arm as he squeezed her other hand reassuringly.
“Ah, finally you have arrived!” Isabel exclaimed, coming toward them with her hands outstretched and a welcoming smile on her face.
It seemed to Catherine that she paused, waiting for the assembled guests to clear a path so all eyes would be on her as she moved toward them. Clad in scarlet from head to toe, Isabel looked like something out of the Old Testament. Jezebel turned to a pillar of flame. Catherine wondered what secret she employed to keep her bosom from spilling out of the bodice of the gown.
Felicity, it seemed, was having similar thoughts. “Barely enough fabric to cover her assets,” she murmured as both women watched their hostess cross the floor.
“Even so, you cannot deny she is still very beautiful,” Catherine stated in a low voice.
“So was the whore of Babylon,” Felicity snorted. “A prerequisite for the appellation, I am sure,” she added with a sly grin as both women measured their hostess with a critical eye.
Covering the last few feet of tiled floor, Isabel looked only at Rian as she held out her hands. A choker of large, blood red rubies and diamonds encircled her throat while similar gems dangled from her ear lobes. More cuffed both wrists. She wore a ring on every finger, and her dark tresses were elegantly pinned up with a variety of feathered and jeweled combs. Having taken a sweeping look from head to toe, Felicity saw nothing to change her initial opinion. Isabel’s appearance was offensive and more suited to a brothel than an elegant ballroom.
Rian bent over Isabel’s outstretched hands and politely kissed the back of each one. The smile she gave him held more than a hint of caution. They were all playing roles it would seem.
Turning to Catherine, Isabel embraced her warmly. She kissed her on both cheeks before addressing Liam and Felicity, greeting them with an equally expressive show of cordiality. It was as if they were all old friends.
“Marriage appears to suit you,” Isabel said with a charming smile.
It was uncertain whom her remark was directed at, but Felicity chose to answer. The lack of warmth in her response was ignored by Isabel, along with the guarded smile that accompanied it.
“Thank you both so much for coming,” Isabel said, turning her attention back to Catherine and Rian. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Thank you for receiving us,” Catherine responded demurely. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Then you must allow me to show it to you, though I fear it may not be possible to do so tonight. Come,” she said, linking arms with Catherine, “let me introduce you to some people who are most eager to make your acquaintance.”
It seemed as if everyone invited wanted to make their acquaintance, and Catherine found herself pausing every few steps to be introduced to Lord this or Lady that. She also noticed that, despite being on the receiving end of a great many admiring masculine glances, an equal number of feminine ones were not so approving. She was being coolly assessed from head to toe and though many of the smiles appeared to be genuine, an equal number were definitely hostile. It was an uncomfortable feeling, reminding her of Emily’s warning about murky waters.
“Do you really know all these people?” she whispered to Rian before turning to smile at another pair of faces waiting to gain their attention as Isabel made the introductions.
“Sweetheart, I have been away a long time. I hardly know anyone at all,” he whispered.
“Then why does everyone want to meet you?”
“Who says I am the one they want to meet?” He winked playfully at her, enjoying the view he was afforded down the front of her bodice every time she sank effortlessly into a deep curtsey.
Somewhere between Lady-my-stays-are-laced-too-tight and Marquess-Fussy-And-Oh-So-Full-Of-Himself, they lost Liam and Felicity. Rian’s reassurance that Liam had taken his wife to a quiet place to rest eased Catherine’s anxiety. In the past few days they had all noticed that Felicity was beginning to tire more easily, but as long as she was given ample opportunity to sit and rest, she suffered no adverse effects.
On reaching the ballroom Isabel politely begged their forgiveness as she was called away to deal with a matter requiring her personal attention. She kissed Catherine once again on both cheeks, and made certain that everyone present witnessed the familiar interaction between herself and the newlyweds. It could now be reported that stories of any ill will between Isabel and her former lover had been greatly exaggerated. Nothing more than fabrications spread by malicious tongues. Before the night was over the gossips would be telling each other that Isabel was the one who had introduced the happy couple.
“Thank God that’s over with,” Rian said, watching Isabel walk away. The train of her red gown followed like a tongue of fire.
“Please tell me she’s saved enough of her dignity,” Catherine murmured with a sigh. “My face is starting to ache from having to smile so much.”
Liberating two glasses of wine from a passing servant, Rian handed one to his wife. “Let’s hope so,” he said, referring to Isabel’s dignity. “I don’t think I could stand to be introduced to any more useless people.”
“Oh hush now!” Catherine reprimanded lightly as she playfully fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Lady-What’s-Her-Name-With-The-Big-Jewels was very keen to meet you, and I’m sure she’s not completely useless.”
“Are you suggesting I ought to find out the exact measure of whatever skills she does possess?” Rian asked, bending to nuzzle his wife’s neck.
“Not if you know what’s good for you!”
Entering the ballroom on his arm, Catherine found her good humor temporarily subdued. She swallowed uneasily as she watched the numerous couples engaged in a seamless execution of intricate steps as they danced. Side by side they glided holding hands, now releasing. A curtsey here, a bow there. They wove a colorful tapestry across the highly polished floor. It seemed as if she was looking through a prism that captured the white light and threw it back across the room in the form of a rainbow. The bright fabrics of the ladies’ gowns and the equally vivid gentlemen’s coats formed a dazzling array of color. Ironically both Liam and Rian had chosen to dress almost completely in black and they stood out with a somber starkness that was positively elegant next to the glittering popinjays who swa
rmed about them.
Catherine gulped her wine, waiting for the drink to calm her sudden attack of nerves. She barely noticed as Rian replaced her empty glass with his own, dispatching the contents with ease. He looked down at her with an expression that was a mix of protectiveness and pride. She had been the epitome of flawless grace during her interaction with Isabel.
“Oh look, Rian,” she said, clutching his arm as she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor. “There’s Liam and Felicity. Don’t they make a handsome pair?”
“Yes, they do,” Rian said, taking the now empty glass from his wife’s hand and returning it, with its mate, to another passing waiter as the dance ended. “Shall we join them?” He took her by the hand and led her onto the ballroom floor before she could utter a word of protest. “Follow my lead, and it will all come back to you,” he told her as they waited for the music to begin.
He led her first in one dance and then another and then graciously relinquished his place to Liam, content to keep his sister-in-law company as they watched from the edge of the room. When the music stopped and Catherine returned to them, her face was aglow with happiness.
“How did you know?” she asked, as Rian handed her a glass of something lighter and more refreshing than wine.
“Know what?” Rian asked innocently.
“That I could dance?”
“Well, I recall an inordinate amount of foot-tapping and humming at the Oakhaven ball,” he reminded her.
“That was country dancing, and I don’t know how you could possibly have been aware of what I was doing. As I recall you were too busy with a certain pair of twins to ask me to dance.”
“Then allow me to take the opportunity to make amends.” Taking hold of her hand, Rian led her back out onto the ballroom floor.
They made quite a striking pair; Catherine bathed in creamy gold and Rian’s black attire accentuated only by the hint of gold thread that decorated the cuffs of his coat and matching waistcoat. The entire ensemble complimented by a snowy white jabot at his throat. On another man such ruffles would have looked foppish, but Rian’s height and broad shoulders made the accessory nothing but completely masculine. Isabel stood just inside the doorway to the ballroom, her eyes fixed on the dancers.
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