Chapter 5

Chapter Five

" T hank you, Your Grace. Emmy," Catherine said as a footman helped her out of the carriage. "I had a lovely afternoon."

"I should be thanking you, Cathy." Emmy beamed. "Because of you, I have a whole new wardrobe. Dresses, nightgowns, undergarments…"

"I didn't need to hear that," Richard groaned.

"I am glad I am able to be of assistance in some way." Catherine smiled, accepting the praise. "Do have a beautiful day."

She waited until the carriage rounded the corner before turning around and stepping into the foyer. However, she frowned when the sound of shouting reached her ears.

"What is this about now?" she asked no one in particular.

Their butler, Mr. Stevens, answered with a sigh, "Her Ladyship mentioned her clothes were getting tighter, and His Lordship suggested she had been overindulging in sweets."

Resisting the urge to groan at their childishness, Catherine went to find her parents in the drawing room. Their shouting became louder the closer she got to the room, and that only strengthened her resolve to marry a man who wanted nothing to do with her outside of probably conceiving his heirs.

She surely didn't want to deal with any more volatile emotions the way she'd had to in her parents' home. She was content to barely speak except when they had to keep up appearances.

Hugh and Lily were huddled in a corner as their parents shouted at each other, oblivious to how scared their children were.

Hugh, fifteen, had his arms around Lily, who was given to panic attacks when their parents started one of their fights. Catherine's anger flared, and she was sorely tempted to give their parents a verbal lashing they would never forget, but her siblings' well-being came first.

"Hugh, Lily," she called, stepping into the room.

Her siblings rushed to her with a cry, wrapping their arms around her.

Hugh was already a head taller than her but still sought to hold her for comfort, and she smiled at how even though he put up a tough facade when his friends or recent crush, Miss Merriwether, were in the vicinity, he was still a baby at heart. Lily, on the other hand, had inherited her small frame and comfortably fit under her arm.

Their parents stopped their squabbling and turned to face her with guilty expressions, to which she replied with a dirty glare as she led her siblings out of the room.

That was not very ladylike of her, but she didn't care, considering how highly improper they were too.

"Cathy, we?—"

"Don't," Catherine hissed. "I don't want to hear it."

"But we truly are sorry," her mother insisted. "We just get so…"

"Angry with each other that it's hard to keep our voices down," her father finished. "But that doesn't mean we don't love each other."

"You promised us last time that you wouldn't do this again. You promised."

"We know. We really tried to, but…"

Catherine crossed her arms over her chest, waiting to see what excuse they'd give her this time. She loved her parents, she really did, but she loved her peace and quiet way more.

"You don't love us enough to change," Hugh sneered.

"Don't say that, Hugh," their mother scolded, sounding hurt.

"Why shouldn't I?" he spat angrily. "You always apologize, yet you go on yelling at each other, not caring how it affects us. You are supposed to protect us and care for us, but more than half the time, you two are too distracted by your fighting to even notice we need anything."

Catherine instantly felt guilty for not defusing the situation quickly. If she had, then perhaps she could have saved her parents Hugh's scathing words.

If only things were simpler, she'd be enjoying her first successful tutoring session with Emmy.

"Don't talk to us like that," their father snapped. "We are your parents, and we have done our best to provide you with everything you need. This is how you repay us? You are so ungrateful, all of you!"

"We never asked for?—"

"Oh, but you enjoy the fancy clothes and treats. You never asked, but Lily threw a tantrum when we said we couldn't afford the trip to Bath for the holidays," their father added, red with rage.

"Arthur, that is enough."

"Jemima, you?—"

"That is enough, Father." Catherine glared at him.

"I don't?—"

"Hugh." One word was all she needed to silence her brother when he flew into a rage. "That is enough. Apologize."

"What? Why?" he protested.

"Because you were rude and ungrateful," she answered. "They might not be perfect, but you cannot deny they have done their best to take care of us."

"But—"

"Apologize. Now."

"I am sorry," Hugh mumbled reluctantly.

"Go on."

"That was rude and ungrateful of me. I should not have said what I did."

"We forgive you."

Hugh nodded but walked with slumped shoulders out of the room.

Catherine's heart panged, but he needed to reflect on his actions and realize how rude he was.

He did have every right to be upset because as a child, he'd been ignored several times in uncomfortable situations till she'd found him bawling and soothed him. It's why he'd gotten so close to her. She had cared for him since he was a child.

She shook her head at her parents before leading Lily out of the drawing room and to her chambers.

Lily usually didn't talk after such incidents until a few days had passed.

"Lils, how are you?" Catherine asked once she'd shut the door. "Do you want some tea?"

Lily shook her head and went to lie on her bed, crumpling her dress. Their mother was going to throw a fit when she saw it.

"No, thank you."

"But how do you feel?" Catherine pressed. "You never say anything, and it worries me."

"I don't really have anything to say, Cathy," Lily sighed. "Do you think Mother would mind if I took a quick nap?"

"I doubt Mother would mind. I might even join you."

Lily nodded and slid to the edge of the bed to make room for her. "Where did you go today?"

"I went to call on an old friend."

"I didn't know you had any friends," Lily said, sounding surprised. "You never go out."

If it weren't almost entirely true, Catherine might have been offended. It was not as though she didn't have friends, she just didn't enjoy conversations revolving around nothing but gossip and the latest fashion trends.

"I guess there's a lot you don't know about me." She laughed, kissing her sister's hair. "Sleep, little one."

Lily nodded and turned onto her side, quickly falling asleep. A pleasure Catherine wished she could experience, but her mind was racing as she tried to draw up a mock syllabus she could cover with Emmy.

Feeling a bit of inspiration, she moved to her writing desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, noting down things she'd noticed Emmy needed help with.

And there were a lot of things.

By the time she was done, she'd almost filled both sides of the paper. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She had a lot of things to cover in such a short time, but she hoped Emmy was a fast learner so she would still have time for her lessons with the Duke.

She remembered their interaction earlier, and a hot blush crawled up her cheeks when she remembered his words.

He'd told her to blush if anyone said such words to her, but in truth, if he were anyone else, she would have probably run away if she was in a good mood or slapped him across the face.

I do not care much for my clothes, dear Cathy. Most women prefer me out of them .

His eyes had lit up with such dark promise that she didn't doubt his words, and considering their past interactions, she couldn't help but wonder what he'd have done if she'd flirted back like all the heroines in the novels she would never admit to anyone she read.

Would he be so taken aback that he'd run from her, or would he take her in his arms and ravish her the way the heroes in the novels did?

She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in Richard's arms. He'd only nipped her earlobe, and that had made her feel uncomfortably warm throughout the evening.

Even his proximity earlier had left her with a buzz she couldn't shake off. She shuddered to think what the feel of his arms around her could do.

A knock sounded at her door, pulling her out of her reverie.

"Who is it?" she asked as she rose from her seat, making sure to keep her voice low enough so she wouldn't wake Lily.

"It's me, Miss," her handmaiden answered. "I have a delivery for you."

Delivery?

Did she buy something without knowing it?

Catherine opened the door and admitted her maid, who was holding a very large box that was unmistakably from the modiste she'd visited earlier.

"How do you know it's mine?" she asked.

"There's a note on top with your name on it," the maid answered, standing back even though her body buzzed with excitement.

Catherine took the note, frowning at the unfamiliar hand. She wondered who gifted her the dress, and even though she had an inkling, she wondered why he'd gift her a dress.

Was it perhaps to thank her for helping his sister?

She accepted the paper-knife and opened the letter slowly because she didn't know what to expect. Her curiosity turned into a frown and then outrage when she read the letter again.

Dearest Catherine,

I hope this gift finds you well. You will find that I have taken care to fast-track our lessons by purchasing you this dress, which is guaranteed to get the attention of all the eligible bachelors in England as compared to the nun-like styles you favor.

I picture you frowning as you read this letter, so this is a reminder to smile. Men like a woman with a ready smile.

Do well to thank me later.

Yours lovingly,

Richard.

Catherine found herself laughing despite her anger and decided she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if he spoke like a cad, that didn't mean he was one.

However, that sentiment evaporated the moment the dress was laid out before her.

What the…?

The dress itself was a dream of green velvet embroidered with gold thread, but the neckline and exposed shoulders would indeed attract suitors of the worst kind.

If she were to wear this dress, her bust would be on full display, and she didn't dare imagine the scandal it would cause.

Just what exactly is he trying to do?

"Miss, it's beautiful, but your mother is?—"

"Mother is not going to see it," Catherine stated firmly.

"But—"

"Hide it in the bottom of the chest with my old dresses," she ordered. "And remember not to say one word about this. Did she see the box?"

"No, Miss."

"Good. You may leave now."

Bobbing a curtsey, the maid left Catherine to her thoughts.

It was obvious Richard was trying to get a rise out of her. Little did he know she also had a vengeful side to her.

She was already coming up with a little prank of her own that would teach him not to pull such silly tricks next time, and she knew just what to do.

Catherine lay down after unpinning her hair, running a hand through it to ease the tension in her scalp. An image of her in that dress flashed through her mind, and she was tempted to see the expression on his face when he saw her in it. She wondered if he'd flirt with her and if perhaps he'd be tempted to nip her earlobe again.

Pushing the silly thought aside, she fell asleep to dreams of dancing in the green dress.