Bluestocking Bride (12 page)

She came in late one afternoon, avoiding all the public rooms where visitors were received, and made her way to the small green saloon upstairs. There she found Lucy engaged in her embroidery—an item that Catherine had determinedly forgotten to pack when they left
Ardo
House—and as her sister looked up to smile a welcome, Catherine was struck by a radiance that she had never before noticed.

"Catherine, you have just missed Charles, I mean Mr. Norton, and you'll never guess who was with him!"

"Lord
Rutherston
."

"No, dear.
I think that that gentleman has given up hope of finding you at home."

Catherine ignored this last remark.
"Who, then?"

"Our brother!
He arrived last night from
Ardo
House. Papa wants him to purchase some stock for the stables, and he is to be in London for a week or two."

"Tom arrived last night? But I didn't hear him! Where is he?" She stood up to go in search of him.

"He is staying with Lord
Rutherston
." Lucy picked up her embroidery-and bent her head to examine her stitches. "It was arranged before the gentlemen quit
Branley
Park. Lord
Rutherston
and Charles—Mr. Norton, are to advise on what to buy. I think Papa was afraid that Tom might be cheated."

"Tom, staying with
Rutherston
?"

Catherine sat down to ponder this piece of information. She began to feel like a fly caught in a spider's
web—a
web of
Rutherston's
making.

"When do we see him?"

Lucy put down her needlework and looked intently at her sister.
"Who, dear?"

"I was thinking of our brother!"

"Were you? Then if you mean our brother, we dine with him on Wednesday night. He is invited to the Countess of Levin's as a guest of Lord
Rutherston
."

"
Rutherston
will be there?"

"He will, and I shouldn't plead a headache if I were you, Catherine, for he is as like to come to Mount Street to fetch you himself."

Catherine looked at her sister in consternation, but the mischievous smile that she saw on Lucy's lips brought an answering smile to her own.

"Am I so obvious, then?"

"Only to me, dear.
But I have been anxious about you of late. No, don't give me that forbidding look. I must speak." She patted the sofa beside her, and Catherine sat down.

"I know that you have a
tendre
for Lord
Rutherston
, no don't deny it, or I should keep my counsel to myself."

She took some time to consider what she should say next. "Catherine, do you mean never to marry, because if that is your intention, then by all means go on as you are. But I hope you will have a care for what you are about. If you marry, you will be a man's wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children." Lucy's cheeks flamed scarlet as she said these words, but she did not waver. "Is it not better that the intimate relations which a wife must share with her husband should be of such a kind as to bring her pleasure rather than . . . distaste?"

"Lucy! What do you know about such things?" Catherine was shocked.

"We were talking about you, Catherine!" Lucy's voice wavered. "
I.
. . have come to understand better what you once tried to tell me, about . . . love."

"You have come to understand better?
How?"
There was no answer, and Catherine saw that her sister was overcome with confusion. It came to her then. "Charles! It is Charles! Lucy, you are in love with Mr. Norton! How could I not have seen it? Does he return your regard?" She saw that her sister's eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"He has not mentioned the matter to me. How could he? He must marry prudently. A match with me would not find favor with his . . . family."

"Not find favor? I don't believe it. You are the sweetest, kindest, most accomplished girl in the world." Catherine embraced her warmly and had the pleasure of seeing Lucy give a tremulous smile.

"Thank you, dear Catherine, but it will not be for any lack in my character or accomplishments that I shall be passed over. It is in my dowry that the lack lies." Catherine protested, but she was enough of a realist to recognize the truth of Lucy's words. The two sisters sat thoughtfully side by side contemplating the sad vagaries of fate that could rob them of their respective
happinesses
. Then Lucy rallied.

"But your position is not the same as mine. Catherine, I beg you to consider what you are about. If Charles had
Rutherston's
fortune, how happy we would be, and I shouldn't care a fig if he had a dozen mistresses!"

These reflections brought on a fresh outburst of tears, and Catherine, soothing her sister by promising not to do anything rash, walked with her arm in arm to their dressing room. They parted with a show of great affection and resolved that whatever the private state of the hearts of the Misses Harland, the world should remain in ignorance of it.

Catherine was in an agony of indecision.
Rutherston's
attentions to her brother Tom, the invitation that the Earl and Countess of Levin had extended to include her family, and the court that he was paying her under the interested eye of the ton convinced her that he meant to offer for her in marriage, but she could not make up her mind whether to accept or reject his offer. The thought of sharing him with other women possessed her of a fierce jealousy. The thought of relinquishing him altogether cast her into deep despair. Either way, she was like to be unhappy.

Her sister's confidences had given her pause, and she had begun to believe that it were better to accept as much of him as he was capable of giving than have nothing at all. It irked her to think that men appropriated a double standard of conduct for themselves. Nothing had changed, she thought, in the more than two thousand years since Euripides had written his plays showing the peril of such folly.

She grieved for her sister's plight. Lucy's character was such that she would never oppose her family's wishes. Catherine thought her too compliant for her own good. But if Charles had enough resolution for them both, he might persuade Lucy to marry him despite the opposition of their families. Lucy had said that he had not spoken to her about his feelings. Perhaps the emotion was all on Lucy's part, but Catherine did not think so. She resolved to observe them more carefully at the Countess of Levin's party, to determine how things stood between them.

It was the most enjoyable party that Catherine had ever attended—not the usual crush that London parties tended to be, for there were only about thirty persons present, making it more in the nature of an intimate gathering. Most of the guests were friends rather than acquaintances, and the
Harlands
felt themselves welcomed and accepted, as if their particular society would contribute to the overall agreeableness of the company.

The earl and his countess were a young couple whom the
Harlands
had met at Lady
Castelreagh's
ball. Catherine's aunt had been included in the invitation, but she had made her excuses, telling the girls frankly that the countess's parties were not in the style she enjoyed.

Lady
Arabella
was a charming hostess. She made a point of singling Catherine out from the moment of her arrival. Catherine had the impression that the countess intended that they should become friends, and she was certain that her acquaintance was being cultivated at
Rutherston's
request. She warmed to the young woman, who was only a little older than herself, and thought that should she marry
Rutherston
, she was destined to become a particular friend of Lady
Arabella
.

Her brother entered with
Rutherston
at his heels, and Catherine thought that Tom looked as handsome as she had ever seen him, appearing quite at ease in a suit of clothes that she recognized as newly acquired. He came to her and took her hand as if to kiss it—a gallantry she had never seen him display before—but at the last minute he thought better of it and planted a kiss roughly on her cheek.

As he released her
Rutherston
came forward, and bowing over her hand, said softly, "Miss Harland! How I envy the liberties which a brother is allowed to take with a sister," and a grin spread across his face from ear to ear. Catherine
frowned
him down and turned her attention to Tom. When she had satisfied herself that all was well at home and that their sister, Lady Mary, continued in the full bloom of health, she asked him how he was enjoying his stay in town.

"I've had more fun and excitement in two days with
Rutherston
and Norton, sis, than ever I've had in all the times I've been here before."

"How so?"

"You're surely not such a
ninnyhammer
as not to know the answer to that, Kate! Why
Rutherston's
name opens doors that would never open for a mere country squire!"

"What doors?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in, sis. Just the pleasures of gentlemen," and with that he would say no more, but Catherine was far from satisfied.

During the course of the evening, she watched Tom covertly and saw that his short association with
Rutherston
was having an effect. There was none of the carelessness of address or manner that had so characterized her brother in provincial circles. In her eyes, he had already acquired a modicum of town polish, and she admitted to herself that
Rutherston's
influence, at least to appearances, had been for the good, but when she came to consider those "pleasures of gentlemen" that Tom had mentioned, she felt deeply uneasy. Tom was of an age with Mr. Norton, and Catherine wondered for the first time if all the young gentlemen of the ton enjoyed the pleasures of what was vulgarly called the "muslin company."

Her gaze wandered to
Rutherston
, and their eyes held. As if he could read her thoughts, his brows rose in inquiry, and Catherine's cheeks began to flame. She looked away, and for the rest of the evening gave herself up to the pleasures of the party, not forgetting her resolution to observe Lucy and Norton.

Perhaps it was because there were no dowagers or mamas in attendance to monitor every word and action, or perhaps it was because her host and hostess had selected their guests with care, but whatever the reason, Catherine felt herself free to speak more openly and spiritedly than she was ever used to do, and to challenge the opinions of others who happened to express themselves on any field in which she felt herself to have some competence. The evening was well underway when it came to her that this was an unusual gathering, where discussion and argument were esteemed, and that in this company a lively imagination and an informed mind were attributes in a woman that were admired. When
Rutherston
came to her side with a glass of champagne, she saw that he was looking at her with frank approval. She was conscious that she had made a hit with his friends and that he was proud of her. It gave her inordinate pleasure to think so.

"Tom has been telling me how much he has enjoyed the
er
. . . entertainments you have been
so
kind as to introduce him to, my lord," she began, choosing her words carefully.

"Has he? Then I am glad that he has found some enjoyment in such simple amusements." He was waiting for her to go on, and she did not know how to go about it. When he observed that she was in some difficulty, he became alert.

"Yes, Catherine? Go on."

She took a sip of champagne.

"Tom is quite thrilled to be taken up by a man of the world. He tells me that you have opened doors to him that were closed before."

"A man of the world?
Do you mean me, Catherine?"

She inclined her head to signify that she did.

"Catherine, are you worried that I may lead your brother astray?" His tone was mocking.

"Would you not, sir?" she retorted.

"Oh, Catherine, you are off the mark. There is only one that I wish to lead astray, but alas, my efforts are always frustrated in that quarter."

"Perhaps it is time to give up the attempt, sir?"

"Do you think so? I hope not. I have always enjoyed the pleasures of the hunt."

"We were talking of Tom!"

"So we were. You wish to know how he has been passing his time. Let me assure you, the doors that I open to him are quite harmless. We have been to my clubs, to Jackson's Boxing Saloon, to Manton's Shooting Gallery. Must I go on? It's a tedious list, I assure you."

'Thank you. I did not mean you to give a detailed account of my brother's movements," she replied primly.

"I could not if I wanted to, Catherine. I am not with him every hour of the day, but I do try to keep an eye on him. Now if you wish me to give you an account of
my
movements, I should be happy to oblige."