She shoved the treat at Catherine, so that Catherine had little choice but to take a small bite. Ashley then scampered over to Josie and Maddie and offered the cake. Josie leaned forward to taste and shook her head. “It’s good, but it’s lemon. I liked the vanilla we tasted yesterday. It works better with our theme.”
“Theme? What theme?” Maddie said. “Ah-ha! That’s why you want that awful bright white vellum.”
“It goes with the white theme,” Josie protested.
“If you are going to start with the white theme again, then I will have to hit you.”
“Madam,” the housekeeper said.
Catherine tore her gaze from her arguing cousins and tried to swallow the dry cake.
“What about the table linens?”
“In his lordship’s study,” Catherine mumbled around the food.
“Madam,” Webster, Quint’s butler, strolled regally into the room. “The extra china has arrived.”
“Oh, Lord,” Catherine said, dropping her head in her hands. She’d been working nonstop to organize Valentine’s ball and had been fortunate to catch three or four hours’ sleep a night. Her cousins had been immensely helpful, and she didn’t know what she would have done without them. Hosting an unplanned ball in the midst of the Season was no small feat, especially when one considered that Valentine’s house and staff were not prepared for such an undertaking.
Not only was Valentine’s town house too small for the event, he did not own enough of the accoutrements one needed. His solution had been to have the ball at an assembly hall and rent everything. He wanted only the best. The problem was that the best china and linens had already been spoken for by hostesses who had planned far earlier than she. But with help from her cousins, Catherine had managed to secure items she hoped would be acceptable.
Now she just had to figure out what to do with them, and that was not easy. She was too tired to think clearly at this point. The ball was in less than a week, and she still had so much to do.
She looked up at Webster. “The china is here? Are you certain? I thought that was not to arrive for two more days.”
“It is here, madam,” he said.
“Catherine, where are you?”
She turned at the sound of Quint’s voice and the tap of his boots on the marble in the foyer. A moment later, he poked his head into the dining room door. He was wearing evening attire, very rumpled, as though he had not changed from the night before. Catherine vaguely remembered that he had mentioned dining at his club after the parliamentary session, but she had not seen him since. Thinking back, Catherine realized that she should have made him promise not only to be home for dinner but also to stay home.
“Webster,” Quint said, swiping his hair back from his face. He had obviously lost the thong he had been using to hold it back, and now it hung free about his neck and forehead. “Who are all those people outside?”
Webster looked at Catherine. “Ask your wife, my lord.” And Webster turned and walked away. Quint glanced at her, eyebrow raised. Lord, every time she saw him it was like the first. Her heart still sped up, her stomach did quick somersaults, and her hands trembled. How could someone like her have married such a kind, handsome man?
She wondered if he still thought of Elizabeth, and if he regretted the exchange of one sister for the other. As for herself, Catherine would never have told her cousins, but she rather liked being married to this man. Especially at night. Try as she might during the days, she could not forget the nights they spent together. She could not forget the possessive, urgent way that he came to her, taking her into his arms and making love to her.
She was still trying to accustom herself to sleeping with a man. She liked the pleasurable sensations he made her feel, especially when he used his tongue—
She felt her face heat and looked away. She caught Josie staring at her, a knowing look on her face. Obviously, Madeleine had not kept quiet about the events of the night she’d almost left Valentine. Maddie was certain that Valentine’s actions, his easy capitulation and insistence he would never give her up, was a sign that he was in love with Catherine. Catherine begged to differ. As usual, Valentine had his career in mind. If Catherine left him, his career would be ruined.
And yet there had been something about him that night that spoke to her. She would never have defended him, have agreed to host this ball, if something in Valentine’s face had not touched her. It had almost looked as though he needed her.
Catherine shook her head. How silly of her.
Valentine welcomed Catherine’s cousins and then looked at her. “How are the preparations coming?”
Catherine frowned, all good feeling for him fading. Did he care about anything but this ball? He did not even take a moment to ask how she was.
She cleared her throat. “For my part, the preparations are fine. How are yours, my lord? Mr. Meeps says you have not yet chosen the paper for the invitations.”
Valentine turned to his assistant and gave him a dark look. Meeps looked away. Obviously, Meeps was not to have spoken.
“I am finalizing the wording and the paper choice,” Quint said.
“Oh, good. Have you spoken with the stationer yet?”
Her husband ran a hand through his hair, and she knew the answer.
