Why were people in his mother’s set so focused on that word? Correct seemed to be a code word for acceptable to a chosen view. Shaking his head in the dark, Theodore tried to point out yet again why he was not fond of these gatherings. “They were nice enough, though I was happy when the dinner was over. Lady Lavinia, for example, was so afraid of saying the wrong thing that she refused to express any opinion on anything at all.”
“You are too harsh on the girl. She possesses a faultless sense of decorum.”
Sighing, Theodore looked out the window and realized they were closer to home than he had assumed. Hopefully, this night would soon be over. “I fault the fact that I could not have a genuine conversation with her. I would rather she have been original or say something unfashionable in her speech than parrot everything.” It was all just so superficial, and it left him wanting something real. The experience made him compare the people to the meal, which prioritized aesthetics over taste, leaving him desiring a humble, homemade creation.
In the darkness of the carriage, he could barely make out his mother as she rolled her eyes. “Why would you want her to say the wrong thing? You gentlemen are so nonsensical sometimes. I say she has the best manners I have ever seen in a debutante in an age.”
“I fear we will not agree on this, Mother.” Not bothering to wait for the footman to bring down the steps, he jumped out of the carriage and away from his mother. Though as much as he wished to escape, he refused to be rude. He waited and offered his arm to escort her into the house. Once they were inside, he moved to the stairs and in the direction of his room, but could hear her footsteps echoing behind him and paused. Turning to her, he bowed in her direction. “Goodnight, Mother.”
Despite the lateness of the hour, Theodore's mind refused to shut down and allow him to sleep. Barnes had brought him tea and a hardy snack at his request, so he sat at his window munching while he looked over the dark landscape of the city.
Yanking at his cravat haphazardly, he allowed his mind to wander. He could not help but draw comparisons between Miss Catherine and Lady Lavinia. His mother was of the opinion that Lady Lavinia was a remarkable debutante, and yet he could not like her. He wondered if she even knew her own mind or if her own thoughts had been entirely trained out of her. Though Lady Lavinia was known for her pleasing looks, he found her uninteresting and dull.
Miss Catherine, however, was not a popular sort of woman. In a world obsessed with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an angelic disposition, she was out of place with her brown hair and sea-green eyes. Theodore had noted that her eyes seemed to sparkle with a thousand secrets, and it was only now that he admitted those sorts of thoughts were decidedly more than friendly.
He had tried to ignore his reaction to Miss Catherine while at the dinner, but now that he was back home, he could not avoid the memory of her blush. It haunted him. Could he really be falling in love with her? And if so, what was he to do about? Did he want to pursue Miss Catherine? Could she ever grow to like him in return?
His mother was always slightly disparaging of the Bennet ladies, Darcy too, for that matter, but he could not care. He had seen the happiness that Darcy had found with Elizabeth and wanted that for himself. The kind of relationship he desired was not something most society women were capable of providing, and he was aware of that. Most society women had internalized the belief that love and close relationships were a frivolous pursuit for those who lacked ambition. Was it possible that he could find what he wanted with Miss Catherine?
What actions could he take to make sense of the feelings that were growing between him and Miss Catherine? His mind turned to tactics. One always did better with more information and not less. He would have to spend more time with her to get the answers that he sought.
It was a pleasant prospect, and he was able to finish preparing for bed with unusual enthusiasm. For once, he seemed to have something to truly look forward to. In his dreams, he and Miss Catherine laughed and talked for hours, and in what seemed like the first night in forever, he slept peacefully.
Chapter Ten
The timing of Catherine’s inhale was quite unfortunate. She had just taken a bite of breakfast when Theodore entered the room, and her startled gasp firmly lodged the bite of bread firmly in her throat. Her eyes began to water, and her face grew hot with panic as she realized she could not breathe.
A hand grabbed Catherine, and she could feel the strong thuds on her back as they tried to dislodge the bread. Things had started to turn hazy, and her knees gave out. She was vaguely aware of an arm slipping around her waist, and then a sudden forceful blow to her back forcing the food from her throat.
Air rushed into her lungs and she coughed painfully, nearly gagging as she struggled to breathe. Her cheeks were stained with tears as she fought to regain control of her breathing, each breath shaky and uneven. Her eyes clenched tight as she focused only on the life-giving oxygen slipping into her abused lungs. Eventually she realized that she was being supported, cradled really, against a large warm chest and there was a comforting murmur in her ear.
“That’s right, take slow breaths.” Theodore’s voice was a mere whisper, more to be felt than heard.
Catherine blinked several times, her eyes still hazy as she struggled to regain her bearings. Across the room she could see Lydia, Mary, and Georgiana, each face etched with worry. Looking down, she found an arm wrapped firmly around her waist. She was being held by Theodore. One of his hands was caressing her hair, soothing her as she trembled. Was it the lack of air making her feel this way, or just him? Either way, the electric tingle was back and stronger than ever. It radiated from every place he touched her and refused to be ignored. He had saved her life and held her to his chest, whispering to her soothingly. How would she ever be able to act unaffected around him now?
The moment passed too quickly, leaving a sense of longing. He took a step back and gently led her to a nearby chair. Crouching down in front of her, he stared into her eyes, seeming to search for something in their depths. “Are you well?”
If only his look meant what she hoped it would. Catherine's heart ached with the desire to have his love, but she forced herself to move on. She was a young woman with little to no connection to high society and he was a mature man who had just become an earl. It was not possible he would ever see her that way. She knew her hopes were naive and unattainable. She felt her face burn with humiliation, and her heart lurched in her chest. What must he think? “I am so embarrassed. I do not know how that happened.” Her voice was a mere whisper and sounded odd to her own ears.
“Just so long as you are well.” Theodore's response sounded hoarse and strained.
Catherine hesitated on hearing his voice, but she could not think too much about it before Elizabeth materialized and physically pushed him out of her way. Theodore moved to the side and allowed Elizabeth to embrace her. Catherine collapsed gratefully into her sister. As much as she cherished her time with Theodore, it proved overwhelming. Breathing in Elizabeth’s familiar sent, Catherine soaked in the comfort that her sister had always brought to her.
Leaning back, Elizabeth smoothed Catherine’s hair away from her face. “I thought we had lost you, sweet girl. You are not allowed to scare me like that again.”
“I will try my best. It not an experience I want to repeat.” As she looked up, Catherine saw Mary's reassuring smile as she handed her a steaming cup of tea. Taking it with a trembling hand, she smiled gratefully at her older sister. “Thank you, Mary.”
Elizabeth smiled at Mary in gratitude as well and then, standing, she kissed Catherine on the head and nodded to the teacup. “You drink that and take a moment to gather yourself.” Turning to Theodore, she smiled tearfully. “Thank you for your swift action in saving my sister. I am sure you had not intended for such excitement when you came calling this morning. Is there something we can help you with?”
“It wasn't possible for me to do anything else.” Catherine could feel Theodore’s eyes on her as he responded to her sister. “I had simply thought to come and see what you ladies were doing this morning. I wanted to break free from my mother's plans, if only for a moment.”
Lydia giggled from where she sat, but there was a slight edge of hysteria in it, a lingering effect of the morning's dramatic events. “I do not think that you will want to join us today. We are shopping.”
Mary went to sit next to her, wrapping her arm around the younger girl that had obviously been affected by the stress of the morning. “I am sure you will be welcome to accompany us if you want. We may have difficulty finding a hat that complements your outfit, however.”
“That is a risk I will have to take. I'll have to rely on the possibility of stopping at a teahouse, as finding a hat to match my cravat seems unlikely.”
“I think we have a wonderful morning planned,” Lydia said, smiling. “Especially if you buy the biscuits.”