Smitten by the Spinster

by Cassidy Cayman

  Chapter 13

  When Catie woke, Lizzie asked the maid to bring them tea and soup, and forced it down her throat, even though Catie insisted she was much better and apologized profusely for her tears.

  As she sipped her tea, Lizzie studied her. Her color seemed better and her smiles seemed less forced than earlier, and she insisted she was well enough to go down for the impromptu party Lord Hollingsborn had planned for them.

  Lizzie herself was a bit too pleased at the recovery, and spent the remainder of the rainy afternoon turning and shaking their clothes, all the while disputing with herself about her reasons for being excited about the evening.

  She told herself it was because she was on the last leg of her tour here in the eighteenth century and she wanted to tie up all the loose ends. She sincerely wanted to see Catie well and happily settled, and had come to the conclusion that even though the beginnings of her romance with young Hollingsborn hadn’t been completely on the up and up, for the most part it was a good match. If Edwin was as reformed as his mother promised he was, and could stay away from the gaming tables, they should be fine. Lizzie pushed away the slight unease she continued to feel about that. She’d spent the last weeks guiding Catie in that direction, and it was widely believed by society to be a done deal.

  “Do ye think Lord Hollingsborn will propose tonight?” Catie asked, practically taking the thought right from her head.

  “Has he talked to your brother?” Lizzie asked, feeling certain if he had that she would have heard about it in great detail already. Quinn had an active dislike for the marquis-to-be and made fun of him whenever he had the chance. It was the only wrench in her well oiled machine.

  Catie frowned. “I dinna think so. I suppose he must, aye?”

  “Well, certainly, as he’s your guardian.” Lizzie tried not to let her irritation at Edwin’s cowardice show.

  It wasn’t as if Quinn would punch him in the face for asking for his sister’s hand. She had to turn away to hide her smile. Edwin’s occasional supercilious manner made Lizzie not altogether mind the thought of him getting a pop to the nose.

  “Has he spoken to you about it?” Lizzie asked more harshly than she meant.

  Catie blushed and wrung her hands. “Not in so many words,” she said. “He hasna been improper, Miss Burnet.”

  “No, dear, of course not,” Lizzie hurried to reassure her, not wanting Catie to start doubting herself. She shrugged. “We shall see tonight, won’t we?”

  Catie’s blush deepened and her face almost cracked with her smile, causing a little fissure in Lizzie’s heart. She hoped she’d done the right thing. The monetary reward she’d get from Lady Hollingsborn when they were married seemed the silliest thing now. If she got to go home, none of that would even matter, but Catie would be left here to live the life she’d helped orchestrate.

  “Do you think you’ll be happy with him?” she asked, pressing her hands into her chest to try to stop the sudden tightening she felt.

  Catie’s face went blank for a second before resuming her radiant smile, though now it seemed slightly altered, more forced. “Aye, Miss Burnet, and I owe it all to ye.”

  Lizzie narrowed her eyes, about to press the matter, when Catie held up her hand, assuring her she meant what she said, and only wished she’d be wearing a better dress for such a possibly life changing event.

  Lizzie looked over at their almost dry day dresses and guiltily wished the same for herself as well as Catie. She would have loved knocking Quinn on his heels by walking into dinner wearing a marvelous dress. She had a split second fantasy of him taking her to a movie premier in a modern tuxedo. Absurd, especially as he’d completely upstage her. She got up and checked her clothes before pulling them on.

  “I think Lady Hollingsborn may have something you can borrow that will spruce up your dress,” she said. “Help me lace up. I’ll go ask her and send a maid up to you. It’s getting close to time.”

  Downstairs, Lizzie found a maid to help Catie dress, then set out to find Lady Hollingsborn and beg a few baubles. She felt certain she would be happy to oblige. Lady H was probably ecstatic about the turn of events that kept them here overnight, giving her son more time to make his case.

  Lizzie wondered if he would make his case tonight. At twenty-four, Edwin probably felt he had a few more years of being single owed to him, but his intemperate ways had put his family in such financial straits he really had no recourse but to cut his oat-sowing short. Once again she felt a pang of regret consigning Catie to such a less than stellar man, and wished that Oliver was a bit older. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts on her way back upstairs, she bumped into Quinn in the narrow back stairway. He grabbed her elbows to keep her from toppling backwards and stepped aside to let her squeeze past.

  “Oh, how did I possibly miss you?” she asked, embarrassed. Looking up at his face, she gasped at what she saw. “What’s happened?”

  She’d seen him look irritated, discombobulated even, but never so upset. He frowned, looking as if he’d been poleaxed. She touched his sleeve, then remembered herself. Once again she’d slipped out of character, acting as if they were old chums. Whatever had happened to cause that look on his face was none of her concern.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, turning sideways to edge past him.

  “The wee bugger has gone and asked me for permission to marry Catie,” he said, putting his hand on his stomach as if he’d be ill.

  “But that’s good news,” she said with a relieved laugh. “I thought he might.”

  He glared at her ferociously before gripping her arm and pulling her down the stairs. In the hall, he looked both ways for people and took her by the shoulders. His tempestuous blue eyes searched her face, his brows furrowed as he leaned over her.

  “Ye must tell me if I should allow it,” he said, sounding heartbreakingly young and unsure of himself. “It’s only me now to make such decisions.” He dropped her shoulders and stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s only that I feel ye are my ally in this.”

  The tightness she’d felt earlier with Catie hit her in the chest again. She had to turn away from the look of trust he gave her. Which she did not deserve at all.

  “Of course I am,” she said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears. He didn’t seem to notice, and relaxed at her words. “It’s a very good match,” she continued.

  “Aye, I understand about his title and land,” Quinn said, trying to pace, but having no room in the tiny hall. “But what do ye know of him? I canna let Catie marry a fortune hunter or a gambler.” He paused as if trying to remember more instructions. “To be honest, I didna think she would like anyone and we could go home, and now I find I havena been paying enough attention.” He slumped at his confession.

  It took all her reserve and acting skill not to bend at the waist, gasping for breath at the blow his words caused her. Could she lie to Quinn’s face and tell him Edwin was neither a gambler nor a fortune hunter? She got a terrified feeling he’d found out the truth and was testing her, asking her directly about the very things he was.

  “Lord Hollingsborn has made his intentions clear to you,” she said noncommittally, buying some time until her brain started working again. “You needn’t make any decisions tonight. Speak to Catie first.”

  He clasped her hands and nodded, looking so relieved she wanted to return the smile he offered her and at the same time, run and hide from both Fergusons until she could go home. How had she managed to get in such a tangle? It served her right for caring even a little bit. She should have continued on as she’d been the past year, getting by and never getting attached to these people who would be nothing but dust in the wind to her when she returned to her own time. She looked at him hard, trying to convince herself he wasn’t real, but his hands were strong and his smile was so kind as he looked down at her, as if she was a friend, someone worthy of his gratitude.

  “Thank ye,” he said, pulling one of her
hands to his lips and kissing the back of it. Instead of realizing what a shocking thing he’d done, he continued to hold her hand and stare down at her.

  Lizzie swayed toward him, quickly righting herself, but continuing to be trapped in his steady gaze. Her hand tingled where he’d pressed the kiss. She could have punched him for doing such a thing, wanted to punch herself for reacting to it. She mentally called herself a string of vicious insults, trying to regain her cold composure, desperately fighting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and see what more his lips could do. Damn it. She was only days away from going home. She’d be crazy to falter now.

  “I promised to find Catie some jewelry to wear tonight,” she stammered, forcing herself to slide her hand out of his without jerking away.

  He bowed as best he could in the narrow space. “I shall take your advice and speak with Catie,” he said. “I look forward to speaking more with ye tonight.”

  Lizzie nodded once and walked in a stately manner until she reached the top of the stairs and turned a corner, then ran until she came to Lady Hollingsborn’s rooms so she’d have an excuse for her rapidly beating heart.

  Chapter 14

  The room everyone gathered in after dinner was the most opulent room Catie had ever seen and she sat contentedly for a few minutes taking it all in.

  The pale yellow walls were as beautiful as the paintings, with their intricate, snowy white decorations of vines and swans and twining flowers, leading her eye to the ceiling, which was even more elaborate. It took her breath away, and she wished she could lie down on the thick rug and decipher all the scenes, but didn’t want to look like a rube from the country, so she only snuck glances here and there.

  Though she still had on her day dress, so did all the other ladies who’d been stranded there by the storm, which had stopped raging but still drizzled steadily against the window panes, making the drops catch the light of the four chandeliers and sparkle against the dark night. Miss Burnet had come through on her promise and borrowed a lovely pair of emerald drop earrings, then did her hair in a fantastically outrageous pile of curls and ribbons on her head. She would have felt silly wearing such a plain gown with such a hairstyle and fancy jewelry, but Miss Burnet had assured her the whole of the evening would be everyone making the best of what they had, or could borrow.

  She’d been so attentive helping her get ready, taking such pains to make her look as pretty as possible, so that she barely had time to twist her own hair into a simple knot at the nape of her neck when they were called down for dinner. Catie almost felt inclined to trust her again, until after the meal when the gentlemen joined them and they all made their way to listen to the music.

  Her depraved brother took Miss Burnet’s arm and sat right down next to her. To borrow Miss Burnet’s own words, it was unseemly. Miss Burnet blushed and looked at Catie apologetically, but hadn’t moved to a more proper seat. In fact, if Catie wasn’t mistaken, Miss Burnet had shifted her knees in Quinn’s direction, so their legs were almost touching.

  “Sit over here, lass,” Quinn said in his despotic tone, the same tone he’d taken with her earlier when they’d got in a massive argument about Edwin. Now he had the gall to pretend he was a benevolent older brother, patting the chair beside him.

  “Miss Ferguson, you must sit closer to the performers,” Edwin said, unwittingly interrupting their sibling staredown.

  The look on Quinn’s face when she took his arm and flounced off was worth any repercussions she’d face later. The nerve of him to question Edwin’s intentions, and to hint that he might not give his blessing to the match, when Edwin hadn’t even asked her yet. Quinn effectively ruined everything, because now she had to worry about Edwin asking, and then about Quinn refusing.

  She imagined her brother’s eyes burning into the back of her head and she leaned close to Edwin and whispered in his ear how excited she was for the music, shifting in her chair so she remained closer to him than was comfortable, but was worth it to make Quinn fume. Oh, she hoped both he and Miss Burnet were having apoplexy as they watched her. She couldn’t help but steal a look behind her, quite disappointed and furious that they weren’t even looking at her, but had their heads together as usual, in their own little world of deceit.

  The music was supplied by three of the guests and as such wasn’t the best, but it still served to calm her down some. With a sideways peek at Edwin, who embarrassingly enough looked raptly back at her, she wondered why she felt so angry at all. If only she could let go of her suspicions. If only she could be assured that Lachlan was either safe or at peace. He and Quinn hadn’t had the closest relationship, certainly Lachlan had been dictatorial and sometimes unkind, but to consign him to … she didn’t know what he’d been consigned to and it made her twist her skirts in her hands, using all her self control to keep from screaming. It was too cruel, what Quinn had either allowed to happen or been part of, and the not knowing tormented her. She had to know, change it if she could. Until then, she couldn’t enjoy the fond gaze of her suitor.

  “I’ve spoken to your brother,” Edwin said in a low voice.

  She blinked several times, trying to get back to the moment and unclench her jaw. She felt her cheeks flush, which suited her fine. Let him think it had to do with what he’d said. She had no idea how to reply and merely smiled.

  “I wanted you to know,” he continued. “Of my utmost admiration for you. I await only on his approval.”

  Dear God. She turned her lips up further and nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured, casting her eyes down so he wouldn’t see there was something in them other than pure happiness at his avowal.

  A plan started to form in her mind, just the barest bones. She’d need to add flesh to it, but for the first time in days, she felt a bit of hope. Taking a deep breath, she turned her face to Edwin. He leaned down eagerly to hear what she had to say.

  “Ye needn’t wait on his when ye have mine,” she said, sure she was violently purple, she felt so mortified at her brazen words. “I hope I can count on ye?”

  His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “Assuredly, Miss Ferguson. Always. Only tell me what it is I can do.”

  “We must speak more in private,” she said, turning away as soon as she saw his tense nod.

  Catie pretended to concentrate on the music after that, her pulse racing as she tried to work out all the facets of her fledgling plan. As soon as the concert ended, she fled to a circle of young ladies, and animatedly pretended to be a part of their chatter, always making sure someone was close by so Edwin couldn’t press her further until she knew exactly what she needed from him.

  After a while, the older guests retired to their rooms, leaving the remaining young people to get loud and drunk, laughing and dancing. She saw that her brother and some of the other men had set up a card game in the corner and a few of the girls gathered around to watch. Normally she worried when Quinn gambled, but all she felt now was relief that he wasn’t with Miss Burnet.

  The room felt overly warm and close, and Catie made her way to the large doors leading to a lush, enclosed garden. She stood just outside the doorway, letting the cool, damp air refresh her, breathing in the scent of the recent rain and the exotic potted plants that surrounded her. A lantern glowed on the low wall that surrounded the lovely patio, but other than that, it was only the few stars shining between the remaining clouds that lit the night. If she hadn’t been concentrating all her thoughts on her plan, she might have found it romantic.

  Edwin must have seen her slip outside, and seemed to think she’d gone out there expressly so he could meet her for their private chat. Except she wasn’t ready. She ground her teeth.

  “Catie,” he said, taking her hand. “My goodness, you’re warm.”

  Any other time she might have been embarrassed by her hot, clammy hands, and perhaps his using her first name might have raised a blush to her cheeks, but right now she focused only on her goal of finding the truth.

  “I confess I dinna feel well,
” she said. “It’s why I came out here. To get some air.”

  He dropped her hand. “I beg your pardon. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  She knew she was spoiling everything with her curt words and she smiled at him. “Please get Miss Burnet for me?” she asked. After he turned away, she grabbed his hand back. “Edwin, I hold your kind words close to my heart. I pray ye’ll call on me when we’re back in town, and I am feeling more myself.” She blinked several times, not completely faking the weak, helpless flower act.

  He bowed, pressing her hand between both of his. “Certainly,” he said, gazing at her another endless moment before finally rushing to find her chaperone.

  Chapter 15

  After Lizzie’s exchange with Quinn in the hallway, something had snapped in her, and while she wasn’t about to tell him the whole truth, she decided to lead him to it. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to go home with another mercenary marriage on her conscience. Catie Ferguson deserved to be with someone she actually loved, and who loved her.

  After she asked a few servants, she finally found one who had seen Quinn. She raced to find him before she lost her nerve, arriving breathlessly in the small room where he sat alone, staring out at the rain. When she saw the worry etched all over his face, she felt a little sturdier in her resolve, hoping she could ease a bit of it for him.

  “Just talk to Catie,” she said, after telling him he was right to not give his assent to Edwin straight away. “And be watchful. Perhaps Lord Hollingsborn will tell you what you need to know with his actions.”

  “If ye mean to tell me something, speak out about it will ye?” he asked.

  Lizzie didn’t want to tell him flat out about the gambling debt or give him a definitive answer, because then she would be suspect for her earlier enthusiasm for the match. And she wasn’t convinced Edwin was a terrible person. Quinn himself had a few bad habits, by his own admission. Didn’t everyone deserve love and a second chance and all that rot? She knew she clung to that as a salve to her conscience, but at least she gave him a bit of warning.