“Do you think it’s really as spectacular as they say?”
“Everything else we’ve seen so far has been.”
“Even the people,” Winnie whispered. “Have you ever seen such an assortment? They’re from all over the world. Every time I look around—oh, dear Lord.”
Winnie had grown ghastly pale.
“What is it?” Catherine asked.
“Claybourne, and he’s coming this way.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I knew we never should have spoken of him in Lady Charlotte’s garden the other day.”
Catherine spun around. It was indeed Claybourne and Frannie. It was quite evident that they were strolling toward them—as though Catherine and her party were themselves an exhibit to be studied. She felt a little shiver of anticipation. She was safe here with people about and Frannie at his side. He’d not tempt her into thoughts of wickedness with a kiss. It would all be very formal, very proper.
“Ignore him,” Winnie said, digging her fingers into Catherine’s arm.
Ignore him? How could she when he looked so exceedingly handsome in his dark blue jacket and trousers. His cravat was also blue, but his shirt and waistcoat were a gray that almost matched the silver of his eyes. One leather-clad hand held his black top hat and walking stick. She knew what that walking stick was capable of. It was nearly as dangerous as its owner.
“I won’t give him a cut direct he hasn’t earned.” Although she could feel Winnie’s horrified gaze on her, Catherine acknowledged Claybourne with a smile and wondered how to best handle this situation without causing Winnie to suspect that she and Claybourne shared more than a passing acquaintance. She should have known
Claybourne would have the situation well in hand.
“Lady Catherine Mabry, as I recall,” he said lazily, a hint of teasing in his eyes that she doubted Winnie would notice. She suspected Winnie feared the man so much that she wouldn’t lift her gaze above his neckcloth. “Our paths crossed at a ball once, some years back, but I don’t believe we were ever formally introduced.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Claybourne.”
“Yes, I recall that ball. It has been some years. What a surprise it is to see you here today.”
“I have it on good authority that the Great Exhibition is not to be missed.”
“I daresay they’ll be talking about it for years to come.” She turned to Winnie. “Duchess, allow me to introduce Lucian Langdon, the Earl of Claybourne.”
Winnie’s fingers were still digging into her arm, and Catherine could feel her trembling.
What was it she feared? The man had done nothing threatening.
“My lord,” Winnie said succinctly, and Catherine doubted that Claybourne had missed the rudeness in her tone, yet he didn’t seem bothered by it.
“Your Grace,” he replied. “Allow me to introduce Miss Darling. An acquaintance.”
Frannie was dressed very much as she had been last night. Her dress a drab gray as though she wished to draw no attention to herself. Even her bonnet had very little color in it, almost as though she were in a later stage of mourning.
“Yes, quite, I’m sure,” Winnie said, haughtily and suspiciously.
Claybourne narrowed his eyes, and Catherine was certain he’d taken offense. It was one thing to slight him, but to slight the woman he loved—
“Have you been here long?” Catherine asked, trying to make up for Winnie’s
impoliteness.
“No, not long. Miss Darling wanted to rush through and get a lay of the land, as it were.
I prefer a leisurely pursuit. Which do you recommend?”
“I believe it’s impossible to see everything in one go. At least by going slowly you see everything in more detail.”
“My thought exactly.”
Whit began rocking against her, his short legs kicking her backside and hip. “Go! Go!”
Catherine set him down before her arms gave out.
