Page 22 of Kismet

Catherine smiled at the merriment, but under that she dreaded what was to come. She was barely holding it together. Being this close to him and knowing how hopeless her feelings were left her feeling close to tears. Standing up, she squeezed Lizzie’s hand. “I am going to go wash my face and see about freshening up a bit before we go.”

Maybe she could look at it as if she was practicing how to live her life without him? As she walked up the stairs, she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out the loose pins. Keeping her hands busy did not help the fact that she still felt the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his arms as he held her steady. How could she live the rest of her life without that incredible feeling and still find joy?

Pretending to shop for the perfect capote bonnet was not so very hard. She had spent many convivial hours shopping with her sisters in her nineteen years, so certain things were habitual. She could not have said what any of the bonnets looked like if asked five minutes later, but she reassured herself in thinking that no one could tell that she was discomposed.

Lydia came up to her with a length of ribbon in her hands and studied the bonnet she held. “I think that bonnet would really suit you. Are you going to get it?”

“I could not say,” Catherine admitted. “I seem to be unable to decide.” Actually looking at the hat in her hands, she did contemplate purchasing it. The brim was just the right angle and had a lovely green ribbon that would match her eyes, though it was too green to be considered peacock blue. It was an unusual find, but did she really need another bonnet? She had plenty of them at home. Did she even care?

Coming over, Colonel Theodore took the bonnet from her and looked at it, then back at Catherine. “I think that bonnet would look stunning on you. It matches your eyes perfectly. You should get it.” Handing it back to her with a flourish, Theodore looked at her expectantly, one of his old grins back on his face.

“I think I will,” she decided. She could not help but get it, not with him smiling at her like that. She held the bonnet with numb fingers and tried not to gaze too intently into his smiling face. How did he know that it would complement her eyes? Exactly how close was he looking at her?

Forcing herself to smile at Theodore, she tried to walk casually over to Elizabeth and Georgiana to show them the bonnet. He was entirely too charming for her own good.

The times were gone when Catherine carried her own packages. Some days, she missed not being able to carry her own things. Ever since Elizabeth had married William, she had a footman who went with them on errands and carried packages. Today she would have been grateful to have her hands full of packages instead of wrapped around Theodore’s arm. His very well-defined arm.

At least the depth of her bonnet’s brim prevented her flush from being seen by him. She hoped so, at least. She would be mortified if it didn’t. Elizabeth and Mary had gone into a bookshop as they always did, and now Catherine walked with Theodore, Lydia, and Georgiana, looking in the windows of the stores. There was not anything she wanted to buy, though she could have sworn that she had made a list yesterday.

A commotion up ahead drew her attention. Several young children were jeering at what appeared to be a fallen soldier whose crutch had either broken or had been kicked out from under him. The soldier gave a fleeting attempt to get up, only to fall once more, resulting in even more sneers and laughter. The way the soldier’s shoulders slumped at the children’s cruel words spoke of a pain that Catherine was all too familiar with.

Unable to watch the young soldier being abused any longer, Catherine made the snap decision to do something about it. Letting go of Theodore’s arm, she rushed forward and confronted the boys. “Can you explain what's going on? What would your mothers say?” she demanded, crossing her arms. Turning to the soldier, she looked him over to see if he was injured from his fall.

“I am sorry for being a trouble, miss.” The young, injured soldier hung his head, almost collapsing within himself. His weary demeanor belied his youthful features, making her wonder if he had experienced more than his fair share of hardships. The uniform that hung on his slight frame was faded and frayed at the edges.

“Being a kind person is no trouble at all. It is an honor and a duty to be kind to those around us, especially to those who can use our help the most,” Catherine tried to reassure him.

While most of the boys had run when Catherine stepped forward, one remained. With his unruly mop of hair and bare feet, he appeared to be an urchin. His mismatched clothes no longer had any color they were so caked with grit and grime. He squirmed under Catherine’s gaze, his face falling with what seemed like regret. “I did not kick your crutch, but I should not have laughed when you fell. I am sorry.”

Catherine looked at the boy, who appeared to be around eight or nine. “What is your name?”

“Timmy, miss,” scuffing his dirty foot on the ground in front of him, the boy looked down.

“Thank you for apologizing, Timmy.” Catherine beamed at the boy, who nervously returned her smile. “Can you help me get Mr.…”

“Jackson, miss,” the soldier replied softly.

“Can you help me get Mr. Jackson to his feet?”

“Of course, miss.”

They each took an arm and began helping him up. At one point they almost all went down in a heap, but Theodore stepped in to help, and together they got Mr. Jackson on his feet. Once he seemed to have his balance with Timmy's assistance, Catherine stooped down to retrieve his crutch. “Do you have somewhere to go, Mr. Jackson?”

Jackson nodded. “Yes, miss.”

“Timmy, can you help him get there? I would hate to worry about him making it where he was going.” Reaching into her reticule that hung on her wrist, Catherine took out her card and a small amount of money.

“I can do that,” Timmy nodded proudly.

“If either of you are ever in need of employment, please make your way to Darcy House on Coventry Square. I am sure we can find something for you both.” Pressing the card and coins into the soldier’s hand, she closed his fingers around it when he looked like he would refuse.

Turning to Timmy, she held up a single coin. “I want to thank you for apologizing and being willing to help Mr. Jackson here. After you get where you are going, use this to treat yourself.” Handing him the coin, she could not help but notice him lick his lips in anticipation for some treat or another. Like the soldier, he was on the thin side and could do with an extra meal. “Remember what I said. If you come to Darcy House, we would be more than happy to set you up with a situation. My brother-in-law mentioned they need help at the home farm back in Derbyshire, but I am sure that there are tasks here in London if you prefer the city.”

“A real live farm?” Timmy’s eyebrows rose into his messy bangs, his gray eyes wide. The look of awe on his face could not be missed.

“Yes, a real live farm.” Catherine tried very hard not to laugh and possibly discourage the boy, but heard Theodore’s soft chuckle behind her. What were the other options—a dead farm? It was a live farm indeed, and Catherine marveled at how children were always a delight.

“I will think on it, Miss. If I decide to go to this Darcy House, who shall I say sent me? You got our names, but we did not get yours. What is your name?”

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