Catherine’s heart jolted. Lucy had pointed out Lady Pilcher to her previously. She was a countess, and she was what people meant when they used the word “stunning.” Both of these things made Catherine feel intensely shy. It seemed quite unreal that such a woman would specifically want to meet her.
Lady Pilcher drifted over gracefully. Her shiny, seal-dark hair was artfully curled and loosely piledatop her head, which was perched atop a swanlike neck, which was encircled with diamonds.Herdress was a confection of floating golden gauze and spangles and embroidery. More of what must be diamonds sparkled in her headpiece.
Catherine curtsied. “An honor to meet you, Lady Pilcher.”
Breathlessly, she wondered if one day she would stand in a ballroom in front of another young woman from a small country town, who would address her as Lady Vaughn and feel shy because she was a countess. The notion plucked a strange, panicky note from her heart.
“And likewise, Miss Keating.” Lady Pilcher inspected Catherine while wearing a soft little smile. Her golden-brown eyes tipped up at the corners, and the way her short top lip sat above her full bottom lip made her mouth look like a pink bow. “My dear, your dress, as I’m certain you know, is magnificent. And what a charming necklace. I have so many beautiful pearls, and yet it never occurred to me to wear only one at a time.”
Cat eyed her in surprise. Perhaps it was true, and the wearing of one pearl was novel to Lady Pilcher.
Her instincts told her no: for some reason, the beautiful Lady Pilcher saw her as a threat.
This was disappointing and fascinating—and then she felt an odd spike of dizzy elation. This was perhaps why the people in the ton said and did such things—it was an attempt to taste this sensation of power again and again. Perhaps Lady Wisterberg felt something similar at the game table.
“Thank you, Lady Pilcher. So kind of you to say. It was a gift from my mother for my seventeenth birthday. It was once hers.”
“And how old are you now?”
Did women normally ask this question of each other? “Twenty-two.”
“Twenty-two. An important age.” She leaned forward, alarmingly close, close enough to kiss her on the forehead, and, to Catherine’s surprise, lifted the pearl on her fingertip. This seemed outrageously bold. “So many realizations at that age.”
Catherine stiffened uneasily.
“Such a charming little birthmark, too,” she murmured so very softly that likely no one but the two of them could hear. “Kirke has a darling freckle about that size on his hip.”
The astonishing thing was that she’d looked Catherine full in the face when she’d said it. Such was her confidence in her supremacy, and her desire to perpetuate what she hoped was cruelty, a sword plunge, that she had no compunctions about meeting her eyes.
Catherine was so awestruck by the audacity it was nearly anesthetizing.
So there was a moment of respite before the searing, suffocating pain set in and nearly engulfed her.
“It’s not always easy to see it when his hips are... moving... of course,” Lady Pilcher added softly.
She drifted back into the crowd and never once looked back.
Chapter Eighteen
“I say... my partner for the next dance seems to have gone missing. I hope she’s not unwell.”
Young Lord Holroyd had paused next to his father, who was still standing with Dominic in his little clutch of Parliament members.
“Is she the young lady in blue?” his father asked.
Kirke was immediately alert.
“Indeed. The one I pointed out to you. She’s a very amiable girl,” Holroyd said wistfully.
Kirke stared at the boy, a decade his junior. No doubt he was the sort of “friendly” Catherine would appreciate.
“Perhaps she had a bit of a feminine emergency, m’boy,” his father said. “They come in a wide variety. I speak from experience.”
“Shall I go in search of her, or would that seem pathetic? I hope nought is amiss.”
Kirke found it an odd sensation to both envy the boy and like him for caring enough to fuss.
“If you’re wandering about looking for her, she won’t be able to find you,” his father said, practically. “Stay with us. She’ll be easy to spot if she’s just gone to the withdrawing room, or what have you.”