Channing had invited her to sit with his group at lunch and had taken her back out on the ice for one last spin. Channing had taken her up in his sleigh for the return journey. And Channing had walked into the drawing room upon their return with Catherine on one arm and Lady Alina Marliss on the other. Well, he couldn’t have them both. Finn would see to that. He was going to have a long conversation with Channing.
About what? Finn’s more logical side prompted. His anger was irrational when one truly examined it. He was angry because his brother was being nice to an old friend? He was angry because his brother skated with Catherine when she’d skated with almost everyone from children on up? His anger made no sense except for the niggling phrase that pounded in his brain: she’s mine.
That’s why he was angry and that was irrational. Catherine Emerson was not his. Not in that way, not in any way. For all he knew, she was simply home for Christmas and would return to Paris in the New Year.
A knock sounded on the library door, but the door opened without waiting for a response. ‘I thought I might find you here.’ Channing stepped into the room. So much for thinking the house-party guests would be too busy changing for dinner to give him a moment’s privacy to sort through his thoughts. However, if he meant to have that discussion with Channing, there seemed to be no time like the present.
Channing seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘I need to talk to you.’ Channing paced the room, stopping every so often to distractedly play with an object.
Finn sat back in his chair and waited. When nothing was forthcoming, he offered a prompt. ‘Is there a problem with Lady Alina?’ Whatever was bothering Channing was serious—Finn had seldom known his brother to be at a loss for words.
‘Yes—no—not directly. The problem is with Cat.’
‘Catherine. She likes to be called Catherine.’
Channing halted his tour of the room and faced him. ‘Oh, not you too. Next you’ll be telling me about Katherine de Medici.’
‘Do you even know who that is?’
Channing threw up his hands. ‘No, but that is not the point. I saw you kissing her today. Alina and I happened to come upon the two of you.’ Channing seemed to have recovered his powers of speech now that he’d got started. ‘By the saints, Finn, you were all over her. I could hardly tell where one of you ended and the other began!’
‘We were supposed to be alone,’ Finn retorted, well aware that his answer wasn’t anywhere near good enough. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact they’d been spotted and by Alina Marliss of all people.
‘Being alone or not doesn’t excuse it,’ Channing said with surprising authority. The shoe was so seldom on this foot it made Finn wonder. He thought of all the attention Channing had lavished on Catherine today, of the way Catherine had looked at Channing in the drawing room just yesterday and an uncomfortable idea came to him.
‘Why are you so interested? I doubt we’d be having this discussion if you’d discovered me kissing Lady Eliza.’ He was a grown man and he was entitled to his privacy. Goodness knew he’d protected Channing’s privacy often enough.
‘I know you, Finn, and you’d never kiss Lady Eliza.’
‘But apparently I would kiss Catherine Emerson and hence the conversation?’
‘You did kiss her and you knew I liked her, you knew!’ Channing sounded positively petulant.
Finn stiffened in his chair under the barrage of Channing’s accusation. ‘I knew no such thing. You have a female guest here. Lady Alina is the recipient of your attentions.’
‘She is a business arrangement and you knew that too.’
‘I’m the only one who knows it. What do you suppose Catherine thinks of Lady Alina’s presence? She asked, you know.’ It was Channing’s turn to be affronted.
‘What did you tell her?’
‘I told Catherine you had an understanding with Lady Alina.’
Channing’s face went red. For a moment Finn thought they might come to blows. ‘Bastard,’ Channing growled in low tones.
‘I assure you I am not.’ Finn was feeling surly. He wanted to hit something even if that was Channing’s perfect face.
‘You knew what she’d make of that answer. You deliberately made it seem as if I were not an eligible Parti.’
‘Channing, you are not an eligible party,’ Finn argued. ‘I answered as you wanted. I protected your privacy. If you don’t like it, you can tell Catherine the truth, that you run a gentlemen’s service in London.’