Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Nine

Another evening, another dinner. Regan had been seated beside Lord Polmerol, always a gregarious fellow, and so found the meal slipped away rather quickly while adorned by the gentleman's dry witticisms and bon mots.

Her eyes, of course, would not stay as focused on her dinner companion as she would have liked. Several times throughout the meal she found herself glancing down the length of the table, where Mr. Cranmer had been seated a half dozen places away from her. He seemed to be in amiable spirits, chatting with a Miss Fahey, the daughter of a baronet and in possession of a sizeable dowry that had crowned her as one of the finest catches of the year. Mr. Cranmer's interest in the young woman appeared to be nothing more than what was required of him for the sake of politeness. Regan dipped her spoon into her soup and castigated herself for allowing a spark of jealousy to flare to life inside her.

Mr. Cranmer could speak with whomever he pleased, and with however much joy and animation on his face he wished to display. Matters would be far simpler, she told herself, if the young man would take his interest for her elsewhere and allow her to focus on the task of helping Katherine in her quest for a husband, though with her eldest daughter already falling for Mr. Winthrop, Regan was beginning to feel as if her purpose here was rendered obsolete.

After dinner, the ladies and gentlemen parted ways, the women retiring to the drawing room as always, with Miss Lane seeking out the pianoforte in the corner, her fingers dancing absently over the instrument until the gentlemen rejoined them and she once again took up her playing in earnest.

Regan kept herself to the back of the room, near a window that had been left open several inches in order to alleviate some of the stultifying atmosphere of the summer evening. When Lord Hays entered, Regan attached herself to Lady Tempest, the mother of Miss Fahey, and the two of them spent several minutes discussing the perils of watching their daughters grow to womanhood and the stress of foisting them onto a society that could welcome them or spurn them, depending on how the proverbial dice landed.

Lord Hays, she noticed, situated himself quite near Miss Lane and the pianoforte. The latter graced him with a smile, and at a nod from Mrs. Lane, accepted his offer to turn the pages of her music while she regaled everyone with a song. Mr. Cranmer, she noted, did not appear.

And all through this, Katherine sat in a small group that included Mr. Winthrop, though their body language implied that the two of them were only paying attention to each other. A cannon could go off outside the window, Regan thought, and neither of the two lovers would be stirred from their conversation.

Lovers... She let the word roll about in her head, while Lady Tempest spoke about the latest fashion in ladies' hairstyles coming out of London. There was nothing obviously affectionate about Katherine and Mr. Winthrop's behavior towards one another. Indeed, they looked to be enmeshed in another discussion of historical matters. There was no particular warmth in the glances they gave one another. No discreet attempts at brushing one's thigh against the other or not-so-accidentally touching hands as they elaborated on an archeological detail.

But Regan knew her daughter. This was how Katherine showed her passion for something, through the intensity of her expression, the focus she paid to Mr. Winthrop's every word. Katharine might not be in love with Mr. Winthrop - she had hardly known him long enough for that - but there was a passion forming for him, and for the interests he held most dear. If the man indeed were to make an offer at some point in the next several weeks, Regan did not doubt that her daughter would accept him.

It was partway through this pondering that Regan realized she had a headache. It was nothing serious, but enough that something in her demeanor must have attracted Lady Tempest's notice.