“My first ball was worse than yours, I think.” Catherine reached for a cake from the table beside her.

Lilith frowned at her reflection while the seamstress tugged and pinned and pulled at her new gown. “Did you throw a drink all over someone’s bosom?”

Catherine pressed her lips together and cast her gaze upwards. “Well, no. But by the time I was out in society, Cousin Bess had run off with that vicar’s son and it was all anyone could talk about. And, of course, I had my sisters to thank for securing our reputation as solidly bluestocking and odd.”

Lifting one arm as directed by the seamstress, Lilith huffed. The difference between Catherine and her sisters and Lilith was none of them had cared too much about what Society thought of them—particularly Catherine. Even now, as a marchioness, she proudly shunned the unspoken rules and regulations. This history with their Cousin Bess, who had eloped in scandalous circumstances, no longer haunted the Chadwick sisters now that they were all settled and married. Those who had once wanted nothing to do with them, were groveling at their feet.

However, she was beginning to wonder how much she cared now. The sting of the gossip columns and the memories of embarrassing moments that used to heat her cheeks were fading.

There was no denying it, they had begun to dissipate as soon as Harry had held her in his arms.

“Just think, if you do something embarrassing you shall have all of us there to distract from it.” Catherine plucked the sugared cherry off the cake in her hand and set it aside with distaste.

“I had all of you at my coming out ball. That did not distract last time, I doubt it shall again.” Lilith lowered her arm and turned to the side so that her back was to Catherine while the seamstress pinned in the waist. Lilith hardly dare breathe for fear of getting pricked. “Besides,” she continued, “I am not so sure I care what anyone thinks anymore.”

“Good girl.” Lilith heard admiration in Catherine’s voice. “They are all a bunch of dry old sticks anyway.”

“Do not forget you married a dry old stick,” Lilith teased.

Before his marriage to Catherine, Thorney had been quite the stickler for rules. Catherine had softened him somewhat and helped him learn to live a little, but he still had his moments when he was impossibly stern.

“Your brother is not that old.”

“I notice you did not protest the stick bit.” Lilith turned as directed to face Catherine once more.

Catherine reached for another cake, having pulled apart the last one and eaten it in a trice. She picked up the cherry again, her nose wrinkled in distaste and left it on the plate. “I would not embarrass you, Lil, by talking about your brother’s private affairs, but let me promise you, he is far improved since our marriage. It does not mean he does not like to scold me every now and then but if we did not argue, what would I do for entertainment? Life would be dull indeed if we agreed all the time.”

Lilith shook her head with a smile. She had known early on that her brother liked Catherine in his own disapproving way. She had even had an inkling Catherine returned some of the feeling. But to see their love grow by way of arguing was utterly intriguing. They could go from arguing passionately to kissing most ardently within moments—something she would rather not have witnessed, if she was honest. Fighting her way through a relationship was not for her, but it really seemed to work for her brother and friend, whose marriage grew stronger by the day.

“Anyway,” Catherine continued. “This upcoming ball shall be your chance to show them all.”

“Yes,” Lilith agreed softly.

A knot of dread bunched in her stomach. After suffering those disdainful looks of the women and the gradually dismissive attitudes of the men, she was not so sure she wanted to face any of those people again. It seemed she was not made for being swept around the ballroom like she had always dreamed.

Reaching for a third cake, Catherine removed the cherry again. Lilith frowned at her. Catherine loved cherries usually. Why was she wrinkling her nose at them today?

“What?” Catherine jutted her chin up. “I have not had a cake all week and these are only small.”

Catherine’s love of cakes was well-known, particularly by their cook who appreciated Catherine’s unbound enthusiasm for her baking. Unlike Lilith, Catherine had not an ounce of fat on her and could probably eat cakes all week long and remain perfectly slender.

Lilith shook her head. “It was not the cakes I was frowning at. I was wondering why you were taking off the cherries. You usually love them.”

Catherine lifted a shoulder. “They taste strange today.”

“Pass me one.”

Catherine handed a discarded cherry over and Lilith popped it in her mouth. The tang of cherry and sugar created a perfect blend on her tongue. There was nothing wrong with these cherries and they tasted the same as usual.

“They are fine.”

“Well, something is not right with them because I do not fancy them at all.”

“You do not suppose—” Lilith paused. No, surely Catherine would be aware?

“Suppose?”

“Well, you said Emma loathed tea when she was...you know… and that she had always loved tea until…” Lilith gestured to her stomach.

The seamstress glanced at Catherine and made a good impression of ignoring everything they said.

Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Until?”

“Catherine, you are meant to be the bright one!” Lilith could not hide the exasperation from her friend.

The redhead blinked a few times and Lilith saw the realization slowly hit. Catherine’s mouth opened and shut like a fish gulping for air. “No,” Catherine said slowly. “No, I am sure I would—” She counted off on her fingers and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my goodness.”

Lilith could not help but laugh. Her brother was going to be overjoyed and Catherine would make an amazing mother. A little unusual perhaps but the baby would be loved and guided through life like no other.

Catherine glanced at her belly as if there might be some sign of the pregnancy already. “I think you might be right.”

Lilith clapped her hands together and received a jab from a pin in return. The seamstress apologized but Lilith waved the words away and forced herself to stay still. She could not help grinning until her cheeks hurt.

“I’m going to be an aunt.”

“Thorne is going to be a father,” Catherine murmured. “I am going to be a mother.” She clapped hands to her cheeks. “Goodness, I am going to be a mother.” She looked to Lilith. “I’m not sure I am ready.”

“You will make a wonderful mother, I know you will, and you have plenty of experience with your sisters’ babies.”

“Julia will not believe it. She will think I am trying to steal her attention.”

“Amelia and Emma had their babies close together. Perhaps it’s a sister thing,” Lilith suggested.

“I should tell Thorne.” Catherine stood then paused and sat. “No, perhaps I should wait until I have seen the doctor.” She stood again. “Or perhaps I should—”

“Tell Thorney. You know you cannot keep a secret from him. Just wait to tell everyone else.”

“I shall never be able to keep this from my sisters, but I shall have to try with my mother until we are certain or else she will have told everyone in the village by sundown.”

Lilith nodded. “Yes, good idea.” Mrs. Chadwick was notorious for gossiping.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Catherine mused. “And Julia’s twins are boys. She will be so jealous.”

“I am sure you will love the baby no matter what it is.”

“Yes, but I would so love to tease Julia.” Catherine picked up another cake and flicked the cherry at Lilith. “And what a wonderful aunty you will make.”

Lilith batted away the cherry and chuckled. “At least we’ll have something to celebrate if the ball goes disastrously wrong again.”

“The ball will go perfectly, just you wait and see.”

After yesterday’s disaster in the stables, Lilith was not so sure. If she could not stay on her feet there, how was she meant to in a ballroom?