Chapter 15
The house was bathed in light. Hundreds of flickering flames protected behind glass, shone in elaborate wrought-iron candelabras on the outside walk and stairs leading up to the main entrance. Inside, additional light reflected brilliantly from crystal chandeliers. The sound of merriment and bright music assaulted them the moment they stepped over the threshold, and curiosity dispelled whatever nervousness Catherine may have been feeling as she looked about her. Isabel’s home was grandiose on a scale she’d never imagined.
Enormous detailed paintings, idyllic landscapes for the most part, decorated the walls. Marble busts and statues were displayed in the alcoves and recesses. Looking about her, Catherine tried to discern whether there was a theme or purpose to the groupings of paintings, statues, and furniture. She was forced to conclude that if there was one, it escaped her. To her mind the display was nothing more than a vulgar show of wealth.
Her nervousness returned along with a queasy feeling the moment she heard Isabel’s voice. Unmistakable, it cut through the general mélée, ensuring that all attention was turned their way. Catherine gripped Rian’s arm as he squeezed her other hand reassuringly.
“Ah, finally you have arrived!” Isabel exclaimed, coming toward them with her hands outstretched and a welcoming smile on her face.
It seemed to Catherine that she paused, waiting for the assembled guests to clear a path so all eyes would be on her as she moved toward them. Clad in scarlet from head to toe, Isabel looked like something out of the Old Testament. Jezebel turned to a pillar of flame. Catherine wondered what secret she employed to keep her bosom from spilling out of the bodice of the gown.
Felicity, it seemed, was having similar thoughts. “Barely enough fabric to cover her assets,” she murmured as both women watched their hostess cross the floor.
“Even so, you cannot deny she is still very beautiful,” Catherine stated in a low voice.
“So was the whore of Babylon,” Felicity snorted. “A prerequisite for the appellation, I am sure,” she added with a sly grin as both women measured their hostess with a critical eye.
Covering the last few feet of tiled floor, Isabel looked only at Rian as she held out her hands. A choker of large, blood red rubies and diamonds encircled her throat while similar gems dangled from her ear lobes. More cuffed both wrists. She wore a ring on every finger, and her dark tresses were elegantly pinned up with a variety of feathered and jeweled combs. Having taken a sweeping look from head to toe, Felicity saw nothing to change her initial opinion. Isabel’s appearance was offensive and more suited to a brothel than an elegant ballroom.
Rian bent over Isabel’s outstretched hands and politely kissed the back of each one. The smile she gave him held more than a hint of caution. They were all playing roles it would seem.
Turning to Catherine, Isabel embraced her warmly. She kissed her on both cheeks before addressing Liam and Felicity, greeting them with an equally expressive show of cordiality. It was as if they were all old friends.
“Marriage appears to suit you,” Isabel said with a charming smile.
It was uncertain whom her remark was directed at, but Felicity chose to answer. The lack of warmth in her response was ignored by Isabel, along with the guarded smile that accompanied it.
“Thank you both so much for coming,” Isabel said, turning her attention back to Catherine and Rian. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Thank you for receiving us,” Catherine responded demurely. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Then you must allow me to show it to you, though I fear it may not be possible to do so tonight. Come,” she said, linking arms with Catherine, “let me introduce you to some people who are most eager to make your acquaintance.”
It seemed as if everyone invited wanted to make their acquaintance, and Catherine found herself pausing every few steps to be introduced to Lord this or Lady that. She also noticed that, despite being on the receiving end of a great many admiring masculine glances, an equal number of feminine ones were not so approving. She was being coolly assessed from head to toe and though many of the smiles appeared to be genuine, an equal number were definitely hostile. It was an uncomfortable feeling, reminding her of Emily’s warning about murky waters.
“Do you really know all these people?” she whispered to Rian before turning to smile at another pair of faces waiting to gain their attention as Isabel made the introductions.
“Sweetheart, I have been away a long time. I hardly know anyone at all,” he whispered.
“Then why does everyone want to meet you?”
“Who says I am the one they want to meet?” He winked playfully at her, enjoying the view he was afforded down the front of her bodice every time she sank effortlessly into a deep curtsey.
Somewhere between Lady-my-stays-are-laced-too-tight and Marquess-Fussy-And-Oh-So-Full-Of-Himself, they lost Liam and Felicity. Rian’s reassurance that Liam had taken his wife to a quiet place to rest eased Catherine’s anxiety. In the past few days they had all noticed that Felicity was beginning to tire more easily, but as long as she was given ample opportunity to sit and rest, she suffered no adverse effects.
On reaching the ballroom Isabel politely begged their forgiveness as she was called away to deal with a matter requiring her personal attention. She kissed Catherine once again on both cheeks, and made certain that everyone present witnessed the familiar interaction between herself and the newlyweds. It could now be reported that stories of any ill will between Isabel and her former lover had been greatly exaggerated. Nothing more than fabrications spread by malicious tongues. Before the night was over the gossips would be telling each other that Isabel was the one who had introduced the happy couple.
“Thank God that’s over with,” Rian said, watching Isabel walk away. The train of her red gown followed like a tongue of fire.
“Please tell me she’s saved enough of her dignity,” Catherine murmured with a sigh. “My face is starting to ache from having to smile so much.”
Liberating two glasses of wine from a passing servant, Rian handed one to his wife. “Let’s hope so,” he said, referring to Isabel’s dignity. “I don’t think I could stand to be introduced to any more useless people.”
“Oh hush now!” Catherine reprimanded lightly as she playfully fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Lady-What’s-Her-Name-With-The-Big-Jewels was very keen to meet you, and I’m sure she’s not completely useless.”
“Are you suggesting I ought to find out the exact measure of whatever skills she does possess?” Rian asked, bending to nuzzle his wife’s neck.
“Not if you know what’s good for you!”
Entering the ballroom on his arm, Catherine found her good humor temporarily subdued. She swallowed uneasily as she watched the numerous couples engaged in a seamless execution of intricate steps as they danced. Side by side they glided holding hands, now releasing. A curtsey here, a bow there. They wove a colorful tapestry across the highly polished floor. It seemed as if she was looking through a prism that captured the white light and threw it back across the room in the form of a rainbow. The bright fabrics of the ladies’ gowns and the equally vivid gentlemen’s coats formed a dazzling array of color. Ironically both Liam and Rian had chosen to dress almost completely in black and they stood out with a somber starkness that was positively elegant next to the glittering popinjays who swarmed about them.
Catherine gulped her wine, waiting for the drink to calm her sudden attack of nerves. She barely noticed as Rian replaced her empty glass with his own, dispatching the contents with ease. He looked down at her with an expression that was a mix of protectiveness and pride. She had been the epitome of flawless grace during her interaction with Isabel.
“Oh look, Rian,” she said, clutching his arm as she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor. “There’s Liam and Felicity. Don’t they make a handsome pair?”
“Yes, they do,” Rian said, taking the now empty glass from his wife’s hand and returning it, with its mate, to another passing waiter as the dance ended. “Shall we join them?” He took her by the hand and led her onto the ballroom floor before she could utter a word of protest. “Follow my lead, and it will all come back to you,” he told her as they waited for the music to begin.
He led her first in one dance and then another and then graciously relinquished his place to Liam, content to keep his sister-in-law company as they watched from the edge of the room. When the music stopped and Catherine returned to them, her face was aglow with happiness.
“How did you know?” she asked, as Rian handed her a glass of something lighter and more refreshing than wine.
“Know what?” Rian asked innocently.
“That I could dance?”
“Well, I recall an inordinate amount of foot-tapping and humming at the Oakhaven ball,” he reminded her.
“That was country dancing, and I don’t know how you could possibly have been aware of what I was doing. As I recall you were too busy with a certain pair of twins to ask me to dance.”
“Then allow me to take the opportunity to make amends.” Taking hold of her hand, Rian led her back out onto the ballroom floor.
They made quite a striking pair; Catherine bathed in creamy gold and Rian’s black attire accentuated only by the hint of gold thread that decorated the cuffs of his coat and matching waistcoat. The entire ensemble complimented by a snowy white jabot at his throat. On another man such ruffles would have looked foppish, but Rian’s height and broad shoulders made the accessory nothing but completely masculine. Isabel stood just inside the doorway to the ballroom, her eyes fixed on the dancers.
“A handsome couple, are they not?” someone pointed out as Rian and Catherine glided by. Isabel’s response, while polite, was not as warm as the speaker would have expected.
The hours swept by and it appeared that Isabel had indeed been forgiven by her peers. No longer needing to make a public display of affection, she kept herself busy with her other guests, allowing Catherine and Rian to relax and enjoy themselves. Felicity danced with only Liam and Rian, but Catherine found herself very much in demand. Thankfully Rian did not object. Every man present knew exactly who he was, and the nature of his relationship to the beautiful woman they danced with. He enjoyed their envious stares when she returned to his side after every dance.
The arrival of her parents brought a squeal of delight from Felicity. Her father was not an enthusiastic dancer and was grateful to both Rian and Liam for making certain that Emily was not disappointed. Light on her feet, she proved to be a graceful partner, and both Connor men took turns escorting her around the floor.
Having barely managed to swallow two bites of their midday meal, Catherine was famished. The last turn around the ballroom had also left her feeling a little lightheaded. The salon immediately adjacent to the ballroom had been set aside for refreshments, and supper proved to be a sumptuous affair. Her plate piled high with savory treats, sweetmeats, and fruit, Catherine felt like a greedy child, but Rian merely laughed and told her to enjoy herself. She felt supremely happy, and her joy spread like a contagion, infecting those around her.