"Unfortunately not." James moved to Catherine's side, not quite touching but close enough that everyone noticed. "I hope you've been kind to Lady Catherine in my absence."
"She hardly needs our kindness," Lady Jersey said. "She's been entertaining us beautifully. Did you know she speaks three languages?"
"Four, actually," James said, his eyes never leaving Catherine's face. "She's too modest to mention her Italian."
"You speak Italian?" Lady Cowper asked with interest.
"Poorly," Catherine admitted. "Though well enough to understand that most opera plots are nonsensical."
"Blasphemy!" the Duchess of Devonshire declared with mock horror. "Opera is high art!"
"Opera is an excuse for people to dress expensively and gossip during the intervals," James said dryly.
"Cynic," his mother accused.
"Realist," he countered.
Dinner was announced, and James offered Catherine his arm. The precedence was carefully orchestrated—as an earl's daughter, Catherine ranked high enough to be escorted by the Duke, but the placement still sent a message.
She was seated at James's right hand, the position of honor usually reserved for the highest-ranking lady. The Duchess of Devonshire, who technically outranked her, was placed elsewhere without complaint. Another message.
The meal was exquisite, course after course of perfectly prepared dishes. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine, touching on politics, literature, the upcoming Season's events.
"What think you of the new poetry from Lord Byron?" Lady Jersey asked Catherine.
"Overwrought," Catherine said honestly. "He writes as if every emotion must be a tempest."
"You prefer subtlety?" James asked.
"I prefer honesty. Real passion doesn't need excessive adjectives."
"Hear, hear," Lord Pemberton said, raising his glass. Catherine caught his eye, grateful that he seemed to have forgiven her for refusing his proposal.
"Speaking of passion," Lady Cowper said with a sly smile, "when might we expect an announcement? The ton is quite beside itself with speculation."
Catherine felt the room hold its breath. This was the question everyone wanted answered.
"When Lady Catherine agrees to have me," James said simply.
All eyes turned to her.
"And what would persuade you, Lady Catherine?" the Duchess asked.
Catherine looked at James, at the man who'd shown her passion and was now showing her partnership. "I suppose that remains to be seen."
"A sensible answer," Mrs. Drummond-Burrell approved. "Too many young ladies rush into marriage."
"And too many gentlemen assume acceptance is foregone," Catherine added, which earned approving nods from the ladies.
"You're right, of course," James said. "A woman's acceptance should be earned, not assumed."
"Pretty words," the Duchess of Devonshire said. "But what actions back them up?"
"Would you like a list?" James asked dryly. "I've been properly courting Lady Catherine for two weeks. Publicrides, attended balls, appropriate conversations under careful chaperonage. I've been a model of propriety."
"How unlike you," his mother murmured, which made everyone laugh.
"I'm reformed," James claimed. "Lady Catherine has a civilizing influence."
