Finn took out his pocket watch and checked the time. He showed the watch face to his father. ‘The games should begin in five, four, three, two and one.’ They chuckled together because, as if on cue, Finn’s mother began organising people around the card tables into equally matched groups. ‘Just like clockwork.’ Finn snapped his watch shut and put it back in his waistcoat pocket.
His father gave a little laugh. ‘I must go and do my duty. Your mother is saving a chair for me. Mrs Anderson and I will try to take it easy on the novices.’
Finn looked about the room, making sure everyone was engaged in cards or conversation if they preferred not to play. All but one seemed happily occupied. For the first time that evening, Catherine sat alone in a quiet corner. The little group that had originally been drawn about her had moved off bit by bit. She’d been dazzling at dinner. The young marquess’s son had been quite taken with her and yet, whilst Lord Richard might be of an age, he appeared far too young for her against the Parisian polish of her time abroad.
For the evening, Catherine had changed into a gown of deep turquoise, more green than blue, that showed off her hair and eyes to their best, the deep vee of her neckline showing off more than that. Next to her, Lord Richard’s glossy blond locks had looked positively adolescent.
‘No cards?’ Finn approached the sofa.
Catherine shook her head. ‘I wanted to sit back and watch everyone.’ She sighed, her eyes dreamy and far away, nostalgic perhaps. ‘So much has changed, I wasn’t ready for that.’
Finn squeezed into the space next to her on the two-seat sofa. Whoever had designed these cosy numbers mustn’t have been a very large man. ‘We’re at odds then. I was just thinking how nothing had changed. Every year it’s the same people, a little greyer in some cases, a little older in all cases. All of us here in the same place, eating the same foods, playing the same games.’
Catherine gave a light laugh, a hand coming down gently on his arm, the most natural of gestures. ‘Oh, Finn, I think that’s what is called a tradition.’ She lowered her voice slightly. ‘And I missed it, every last minute of it while I was gone. Don’t misunderstand, Paris is a fabulous city full of culture and art and intelligent people. My great-aunt showed me everything, we met everyone. I lacked for nothing, not in friends or any creature comforts. But no matter how elegant or refined Christmas was in Paris, it wasn’t Christmas here. I came back for those Christmases only to find that they are gone.’
Catherine looked down at her hands encased in pristine white gloves that travelled to her elbows. She fiddled with the sparkly bangle about her wrist. Finn could tell by the fidgety motions the disclosure had meant something to her.
‘They’re not gone.’ How strange that he had been wishing they were gone or different somehow, while she’d been wishing for the opposite. ‘We’re all still here.’
‘But Mrs Moffat’s daughter is married and has a baby. Meredith is engaged. Alyson has a beau. Mrs Anderson...’
‘Is still old,’ they both said in unison, laughing together.
‘See, everything is still the same.’
‘Well, perhaps.’ Catherine conceded with a smile, mischief roaming in her eyes as they glided over the cut on his face, or maybe not. Maybe he was too sensitive about it. ‘Except that cut on your cheek. That’s definitely new. How did you get it?’
Ah, he wasn’t going to escape. ‘Would you believe me if I said my valet cut me while shaving?’ Finn tried. The whole episode had been painful.
‘No.’ Her eyes were full of laughter and he knew she knew the truth.
‘I’m going to get Meredith for this.’ Finn blew out a breath, but he wasn’t really angry. He shook his head and gave a little groan. ‘She told you.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Catherine sobered. ‘It must have hurt.’ He knew, too, that she meant it in all ways, not just the physical.
‘It did, but we didn’t suit.’
‘Does that mean you don’t have anyone special?’
‘No, hence Lady Eliza.’ Finn gave a wry smile. ‘My mother will not stop until I’ve picked one.’
‘I’m surprised.’ Catherine cocked her head to one side. ‘I would have thought you’d be the first. I rather suspected I’d come home and find you married with a baby or two.’
‘Why is that?’ Finn asked softly, staring back. How had he never noticed the flecks of blue in those green eyes before? It was those flecks that gave her eyes the impression of being sea-green, instead of mossy.