Page 5 of Kismet

The colonel's eyes seem to scan her for anything amiss. “Miss Catherine, I was coming your way, but it seems my gallantry was unneeded. If I had known that some of these puppies were more…troublesome than others, I would have stayed closer.”

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the residual tension from the past half hour. Through archery, she had learned the power of deep, steady breathing and drew in another shaky breath, before releasing it slowly. She sensed Colonel Fitzwilliam's watchful eyes on her, yet she was confident he would understand her desire to recenter herself. “Well, that one was less preening puppy and more vile vermin. They are certainly the more dangerous of the two, but had the punch not worked, a swift kick would have been a possibility.”

“Why don't we get you another drink? You did not enjoy the punch, but I have heard good things about the lemonade. My lady?” He offered his arm to Catherine. Then, with a reassuring pat on her hand, he escorted her to the refreshments table.

“I noticed you reserved the supper set. I will have to get creative and come up with some entertaining things to talk about. Your offer of aid was so gallant that it would pain me to have you bored throughout your meal. Do you perchance enjoy talking about lace and feathers?” His chuckle led to her own, and this time it felt more sincere than before. The feel of the cold glass in her hand and the taste of the sweet lemonade he handed her helped her to feel like herself again. When she looked up into his blue gaze, a peculiar excitement coursed through her. Catherine was uncertain what it was, but she certainly looked forward to supper.

Chapter Three

Walking away from the refreshment table, they moved back to where Darcy and Elizabeth had been sitting. Theodore felt himself losing his own composure as he watched Miss Catherine take deep, calming breaths. She had handled Viscount Deerhurst with grace and a clear head. It had ended well, but he was angry to know that even the most proper ballrooms were unsafe for young ladies like Miss Catherine. Cedric had said he should look for places to do good. The ballroom was the last place he expected to find an opportunity to do good in the world, but there it was.

Suddenly, the cheery ballroom had a darker, more ominous aspect to it. Looking around, he saw no overt danger, but he had been a soldier long enough to know that sometime danger was there even if you could not see it. Turning his attention back to Miss Catherine, he looked her over carefully. “Are you certain he did you no harm?”

Looking down at her arm, she grimaced. “Mostly it was just an unpleasant half hour. If there is any damage, it will be covered by my long gloves.”

Zeroing in on the arm she looked at, Theodore could note some redness just above the edge of the glove that ended above her elbow. Once again, his temper flared. “I am truly sorry I was not there to stop him earlier, but you handled him remarkably. Though I am not surprised you did so well. You have always had that sort of strength about you.”

Avoiding his gaze, she worried her lip, and when she finally spoke, it was evident that her frustration had overwhelmed her. “Not always. Even this evening, when I realized just the sort of man I danced with, I was too timid to say anything until I saw he was determined to bring me out onto the balcony.”

Pained by her self-criticism, he spoke up to offer reassurance. “You need to look at what matters—you were able to act when you had to. Take it from an old, wounded soldier. It is not the fear that matters, it is how you act when the situation demands it.”

His words seemed to draw Miss Catherine's gaze back to him. Her sea-green eyes widened momentarily at his encouragement before she smiled softly. “Thank you for the reassurance. I will try to think about that. However, I question part of what you said.” Tilting her head, she gazed at him with a slight crease between her eyebrows. “I am uncertain about accepting your portrayal of yourself as an old, wounded soldier. You have a marvelous talent for dancing, and your injury has not hindered your performance. You were perfectly capable enough to come to my aid.”

Grinning despite himself, Theodore appreciated her depiction of him. The loss of his military career, along with the expectations of how his life would go, wore on him. The fact that she did not consider it to be the bane that he did meant something to him. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he playfully teased Miss Catherine. “Ah, that may be, but I am still rather old.”

“Though older than I, you are by no means on the shelf, so to speak. Society has suggested gentlemen much older than you as potential matches for me. You are not even thirty. Frankly, I would say you are currently in your prime.” As Miss Catherine finished her speech, she seemed to realize what exactly she said, and a hot blush raced up her cheeks.

He was genuinely stumped on how to respond but managed a grateful, “Thank you.”

“I think our dance will start soon. I expect you to dance with the grace that I know you possess. No dragging your feet.” Miss Catherine flashed a compelling smile at him.

It startled Theodore to notice how her smile hit him. His anger over earlier events slowly dissipated, replaced somehow with a sense of warmth and hope. Giving his head a swift shake, he once again offered his arm so they could head to the dance floor. She was a remarkable young lady, and deserved all the best things in the world. Of course, he would dance with her and look out for her as he would Georgiana. She was like his cousin.

Catherine found the supper set so much more enjoyable than her dance with Lord Deerhurst. For one thing, Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at her with genuine respect. When he smiled, it reached his eyes in a way that did not leave her wanting to run and hide. She found herself eager for the dance to bring him back around so that she could chat with him. They spoke of nothing specific, just the usual chatter that they had enjoyed many times since they met.

As the dance once again separated them, Catherine discreetly watched him from afar. She could not quite put her finger on what she was feeling. She wanted to say that she was comfortable with him, but that was not quite right. If she was truly comfortable with him, why did she feel an overwhelming tension when he drew close to her in the dance?

Moving through the pattern, the colonel was back at her side and Catherine found herself unable to notice anything but the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. She managed to maintain their conversation, but she knew not what they spoke of. Only the years of dance lessons kept her from tripping when he chuckled. The sound of his laugh had certainly never done that to her stomach before. Looking up him, she studied his expression for any hints of suspicion, but he simply smiled back at her. There was something about the look in his eyes that made her breath catch in her throat.

No, comfortable was definitely not the word for what she was feeling. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

As Theodore approached Catherine with her plate, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her chatting animatedly with Cedric's dance partner. Their dance had been an enjoyable interlude. Once he had managed to pull his thoughts away from Miss Catherine's smile, he was able to relax and enjoy the company of someone he found engaging.

“Lady Derby has a gathering most Thursdays, early in the morning. Well, before calls. My sisters and I attend whenever we are able.” Miss Catherine's voice could be heard as she spoke to the other woman.

“I would love to join you all. Though I have never attempted archery, I always relish an outdoor activity.” The woman's voice was soft but seemed genuine in her enthusiasm.

“Then you would get along well with my older sister, Mrs. Darcy. She loves her estate in Derbyshire and is always out rambling. Though I am fond of nature, and I relish the opportunity to practice my archery, painting is where my heart truly lies.” Looking up, Catherine saw his approach and smiled. “Miss Burgess, have you been introduced to Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“I do not believe that I have,” the woman, who seemed to be older than Catherine, replied. She was not the classic blonde beauty that seemed all the rage that season. In fact, she had curly black hair that seemed to form a halo around her face.

Cedric came up to them with a plate for Miss Burgess as well as his own and sat down. “Miss Selene Burgess, my baby brother, Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam. Brother, Miss Burgess.”

“I told you to stop introducing me as your baby brother, Cedric,” Theodore said, his annoyance laced with humor.

“Well, last time I introduced you as my little brother, you pointed out that you are taller than me. You will always be my baby brother. You cannot outgrow younger.” Cedric smirked at Theodore before taking a bite of food.

Leaning over to Catherine, Miss Burgess mock whispered, “It is nice to see that brothers act the same way wherever you find them. My brother would say the same thing were he here. Though I am older by thirty minutes, I am not allowed to call him my little brother. But to be fair, he is very much taller than me.”

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