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“Oh, my,” Eliana muttered. She turned her head to Imelda. “A redhead.”
“I think that’s more of a blonde, Mum.” Imelda tilted her head to the side. “Won’t have to worry much about children, will we? Not with those hips.”
“You two stop,” Emrys growled under his breath. If nothing else, he could count on the pair of them to make things more difficult in the most “appropriate” way possible. But he didn’t have to listen to it.
He left their sides and greeted Caitlyn at the door, offering his hand.
“You look lovely,” he said, and then kissed the back of her fingers.
“Thank you.” Caitlyn smoothed a hand over the front of her dress nervously. “I was a little afraid that I’d get lost on the way here.”
“Hello.” Imelda approached them. “You’re Emrys’s, yes?”
“Oh, um, I suppose I am.”
Eliana appeared by Imelda’s side and offered Caitlyn her hand. Awkwardly, Caitlyn took Eliana’s hand and made a weird little bow. Eliana frowned, and Caitlyn looked to Emrys haplessly.
“Let’s be seated,” Imelda suggested. “I’ll have them start serving.”
Emrys guided Caitlyn to the table.
“Tell us, my dear, where are you from?” Eliana asked as she smoothed her napkin in her lap.
“Ohio. Pettysburg. You probably haven’t heard of it. I moved to Cincinnati after college, though.” Caitlyn fussed with her napkin, getting it tangled before letting it drop in her lap.
“So America, then?” Imelda took a seat next to Eliana.
“Yep.” Caitlyn looked to Emrys as he took her napkin and folded it properly.
“There you are.”
“Th-thank you.”
Emrys decided, as the servants came around with plates and drinks, that his mother must have come up with a list of questions for Caitlyn since he’d last seen her, because every question was followed by another. Caitlyn’s cheeks were turning pink, fielding interrogations about her education, her cultural background, her business, and one veiled question about her health that was more of a comment on her weight.
“Your mother adores me,” Caitlyn muttered sarcastically, when Eliana had excused herself from the table for a moment.
“Give her some time. It’s her way,” Emrys replied. “I’m sure your mother would be equally curious about me.”
“I don’t know that curious would be the functional adjective for how she’d feel about you.”
Emrys laughed softly.
“Does your mother not know about your relationship?” Imelda pressed.
“She knew about it once,” Caitlyn offered.
Emrys shot her a look and touched her back. Imelda leaned her chin on her hand and smiled knowingly.
“Oh, Em, what have you done?”
“I’ve been a perfect gentleman,” Emrys said sternly.
Imelda narrowed her eyes. “But of course. You always are.”
“Behave, Im.”
“I’m simply curious.” Imelda gestured to Caitlyn. “You clearly have known her for some time, and yet we’re only meeting her now?”
“Well, he could’ve introduced me years ago, if he hadn’t arrived home to find himself engaged,” Caitlyn said a bit peevishly.
Imelda’s lips parted. Her eyes widened. Emrys felt the urge to give Caitlyn a bit of a shake.
“You should have told us!” Imelda said.
“As though that would’ve made a bit of difference in Mother and Father’s plans,” Emrys replied.
“Father’s no, Mother’s yes,” Imelda insisted.
“I have serious doubts that Mother is entirely on board now. And I have very few prospects for her to obsess over at the moment.”
Imelda smirked and held her glass aloft. “You have prospects. They’ll all be at the ball.”
“I intuited that much. You’ll understand if I’m not particularly interested in being selected like a piece of meat, especially when I have already made a choice.” Emrys wiped his mouth. “Perhaps you’ll let Mother know that we had to leave the table.”
Imelda clicked her tongue. “Stay. She’ll be on another tack when she comes back. I’m sure of it.” She looked to Caitlyn. “Have some patience with us. Our family is a bit much to tolerate, but I promise once you get past the vetting process, we’re not so bad to be around.”
“It might be worth it in exchange for the amazing digs,” Caitlyn said.
“Oh?” Imelda raised a brow.
“That bed is some kind of portal to a heavenly realm or something.”
Emrys took Caitlyn’s hand under the table. His mother returned, and sure enough, she had tired of questioning Caitlyn and now wanted to talk about the families who would be attending the upcoming ball.
