Page 19 of Kismet

Theodore looked up when she changed the topic, and their eyes locked. Had he realized that she changed the topic for him? Would he be offended or grateful? Catherine gave him a fleeting smile and was relieved to see him smile in return. Blushing, she glanced away. It would be best if she was not spotted pining after him. What was she thinking?

Georgiana was always eager to discuss music and took up the topic change swiftly. “I am glad of any opportunity to peruse sheet music. I spend so much time practicing that I always enjoy obtaining new pieces.”

“I wonder if the increased competition will affect the prices of the sheet music,” Mary commented, looking at the practical side of things.

Not wanting to leave Selene out of the conversation, Catherine looked over at her once more. When she spotted her looking at Colonel Theodore, Catherine blinked twice in surprise. Was Selene fond of Theodore? It had never occurred to her that Selene might have feelings for him. Why did that possibility leave a strange ache in her chest? “Selene, do you enjoy playing an instrument? Would you be just as eager to have a new place to shop for sheet music?”

Wrinkling her nose, Selene shook her head in denial. “While I enjoy listening to the piano, I never could master it. I have attempted the harp but find myself not much better at it than the piano. That does not deprive me of enjoying the symphony and the opera. I attend both whenever I can convince my brother to take me.”

“We must go together sometime. I hear they will do a new play in the next week or two. Do you have any plans to attend?”

The conversation continued to flow easily, calming her nerves, even though she thought she felt the colonel’s eyes on her more than once. Overall, Catherine believed the tea with Selene to be a success, despite the weight of uncertainty that had settled in her stomach.

The tingle in his hand persisted, keeping Theodore’s thoughts on his interaction with her despite having left the room and Miss Catherine behind some time before. She was a girl, and his cousin's sister-in-law. What was wrong with him? He couldn't possibly be considering Miss Catherine in a romantic manner.

He was certainly not looking at Miss Catherine as if she were an attractive woman who had drawn his attention. The fine tremor in his hand didn't escape his attention as he headed to Matlock House. Could his constant lack of sleep be causing this?

She had noted his discomfort and changed the subject. While he was grateful they no longer had to talk about estate matters, what affected him more was that somehow, she knew. While he loved Darcy like a brother, his commendation made him uncomfortable. She had realized that he was not comfortable and changed the subject. Was he really that transparent, or was it something else?

Their eyes had met, and that brief moment had made his heart thud uncomfortably. Her small smile filled him with reassurance, but then her blush filled him with heat. He was not so green that he did not know what he was feeling, but why was he so attracted to her? The changing of the seasons marked each new romantic endeavor for some, but that was not his style. He certainly was not like Bingley, who had spotted a new angel at every ball.

Refusing to admit what his heart whispered was true, Theodore rushed up the stairs to his townhouse. The door was swiftly opened as if by magic and he greeted the footman. Feeling the need for some exertion, he went to his room and looked for Barnes. What he needed was a trip to Gentlemen Jack's, to get his blood flowing and his mind moving in another direction.

That night, as she lay in bed, Catherine stared at the ceiling trying to make sense of everything. The day had created a constant stream of questions that were swirling through her head. Well, mostly she questioned what had happened once Theodore had walked into the room. That was when what she could best describe as electricity had started. She had never felt anything like it before—the heat that surged through her when their hands met.

It was much more pleasant than the feeling that had followed—the hollow pain in her chest when she saw Selene looking at Theodore. Thinking about that had been her last clue. Her heart ached, and she knew it was a sign of the feelings she was developing for him. It had taken a moment for her to admit it to herself, to even accept the possibility that she might be falling in love. The very notion that she might be losing her heart to Theodore had seemed ridiculous at first, but as she recalled each of their interactions, she realized with a sinking feeling that it might not be so impossible after all.

She tried to search her mind for the day, or the hour, that it had started. Love had already taken root before she had a chance to fully comprehend it. She had never dreamed that the beginnings of love would make her feel this way, or that it would destroy her so entirely.

She knew in her heart that her affection could never be reciprocated, and the realization was devastating. The contrast between the richness of his life and the emptiness of hers was stark. He had been places and seen things that would affect him for the rest of life. She was trapped in the world of debutantes, where every day was filled with dances, teas, and mind-numbing small talk. He would never see her as more than a girl.

What frightened her even more was the possibility of being caught in a hopeless case of puppy love. She would have to find a way to keep anyone from finding out. Her heart shuddered in her chest as she tried to find a way to lock her feelings down. The idea of seeing him again without giving away her emotions and making a fool of herself weighed heavily on her mind.

She would have to be polite and keep things light—nothing that would give her away. She could do it…maybe. If everything went according to plan, these sentiments would surely diminish as time passed, and then she could concentrate on surviving the season.

Chapter Nine

There was less of a spring in his step when he returned home than earlier in the day, but Theodore felt good for it. He was an active man, or had been for much of his life. Daily riding his horse or marching beside him took much more energy than sitting at a desk and reviewing papers and proposals. Slugging it out with other gentlemen was not something he did often, but he was grateful for the exercise. He was weary, but the exertion of it had helped settle him.

The same footman opened the door, and Theodore idly wondered how long the footman had to stand at attention by the door. He knew it was somewhat of a sought-after position, but he certainly could not just stand there for hours on end. Tucking the thought away to investigate at a later time, he trudged up the stairs to clean up. He was sweaty and would need to make himself presentable for whatever had been planned for the evening.

“Theodore, what has happened to you? You look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards!”

Theodore looked up to spot his mother coming out of the sitting room. The tone of her voice caused him to wince, and he briefly wondered whether all mothers had the power to use that particular tone or if his was just a special case. “Good afternoon, Mother. I have been at Jack’s and was just going up to clean up.”

Coming closer, she looked him over like a general inspecting his troops. “I will never understand why gentlemen feel the need to bash one another about. Well, at least you have not bruised your face,” she sighed. “We have been invited to dine with the Cabots this evening and I know you will try to look presentable. It's essential to represent the family well, and with several important figures present, it's even more crucial tonight.”

Fighting the urge to squirm under her scrutiny, Theodore attempted to settle himself in for a conversation with his mother. He had not been this thoroughly inspected since he was a fresh recruit. While he had been happy enough that she was finally showing him interest, it was quite unsettling. She always seemed to have an explanation for why they had to attend yet another gathering. He could ignore her, he supposed, but he was at a loss as to what an earl's obligations were. She had a better understanding of how these things worked than he did. “I thought we attended the dinner you had been invited to a few nights ago.”

Finally, turning away from him, his mother moved to rearrange a vase of flowers. Once she was satisfied with the arrangement, she turned back to him and smiled. “You have done so well upholding Cedric’s position that we are being invited to even more dinners with more important families. It is vital to be seen attending all the right dinners if you are to have any hope of accomplishing even a fraction of what Cedric was attempting to do,” his mother explained, studying his appearance once more. “Do not worry, they won't all be dinners. There will be several musical evenings.”

Rubbing at the eyebrow that seemed to have developed a twitch behind it, Theodore considered his mother's plans. The use of the word several left him feeling uncertain, prompting him to question her. “Just how many dinners and musical events are we talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know, several a week? No more than four.” His mother made a dismissive gesture with her hand. Then reaching into her reticule that hung at her wrist, she pulled out a folded slip of paper.

Running his hand through his hair, Theodore looked at the extensive list of events his mother wanted him to attend with her and sighed. “Mother, I do not quite understand why you are so insistent on all of these dinners with people I have nothing in common with.”

“If only you had taken the time to understand your brother's methods for getting his bills passed, you would have a better understanding. Being successful in politics involves not only speaking in parliament but also socializing with the people and gaining their support.” With a sniff, she turned away from him, and her shoulders slumped as she continued speaking listlessly. “It is what Cedric devoted his life to and you do not know, cannot comprehend. It is so sad that his legacy will be forgotten.”

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