‘Your parents seem pleased to see Finn with Lady Eliza,’ Catherine said as the dance began.
Channing gave a mock frown. ‘I haven’t seen you all evening and that’s the first thing you can think of to say?’
She gave a playful smile. ‘You could have seen me earlier.’
Channing swung them into a turn. ‘I did, I simply couldn’t get away. I was bowled over at the sight of you in that dress. I still am, so is everyone else. I’m dancing with the prettiest girl in the room and they know it.’ Channing winked. ‘Maybe my parents are smiling because I’m dancing with you. They might not be smiling at Finn at all.’
Catherine laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ve changed a bit.’ The comment was just like Channing. He saw the world through his eyes and that world revolved around him. He was his very own Copernican theory, the planet around which all the minor suns orbited. It didn’t make him selfish. Channing was a kind-hearted individual, she knew that. It simply made him Channing and it made him different from Finn. Conversation with Finn wasn’t necessarily all about Finn.
‘Cat, I want to talk to you,’ Channing began. ‘There’s something I need to ask. Do you think we might slip off somewhere quiet?’ She was aware of his hand at her waist, holding her closer than the rule. But this was Channing, handsome, charming Channing, and this was what she’d come home for.
Channing led them to a little sitting room down the hall. He checked to see that it was empty. ‘You never know what some people get up to at a dance,’ he said with a chuckle, ushering her inside. Catherine stood before the fire, her hands clutched, her insides churning with butterflies. She told herself it was because the fairy tale was about to come true.
Channing raised a hand to her hair, smoothing his hand over it, a smile on his face, his blue eyes intent. ‘You’re lovely, Cat. I meant it when I said I was bowled over by your beauty this evening. There isn’t a woman in there who can match you.’
‘Not even Lady Alina?’ she had to ask. That relationship seemed murky at best.
Channing shook his head. ‘She’s business.’ He cupped her jaw and ran his thumb along her cheek. The gesture was soft and gentle, but it raised no prickles of heat down her arms or sent any shivers of delight down her back. ‘You, Cat, you are my pleasure. I have obligations in London I must see to, but when I come back?’ He paused. ‘What I’m trying to say is will you wait for me? When I return, we can announce our engagement if you’ll have me.’
The proposal was so Channing. It had been all about him; his obligations, his return. ‘Don’t you think you should ask me first?’ Catherine laughed.
He took her hand. ‘Will you marry me?’ There was a winsome boyish hope in his voice that excused the lack of pomp behind the question. ‘We’d be the most dashing couple in London. We’d do all the parties, all the balls. Everyone would want to have us.’
He was sincere in his own way. She knew him well enough to know that. But in those moments he was laid bare to her in a way he’d never been. As a friend, as a childhood playmate, his bonhomie, his love of a party, an outing, any social activity, had been enough. He had been the centre of attention and it had been fun to be in the centre with him. Catherine pulled her hand free. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she knew what her answer had to be. It was an answer she’d never thought to make. ‘Marriage has to be more than fun, Channing.’
He knitted his fair brows. ‘I don’t understand.’
Of course he wouldn’t. Perhaps he couldn’t. It might not be in his make up to understand that things had to be more than fun, more than dares and larks.
‘Can’t you see it?’ he pressed softly. ‘You and I just bashing around London?’
Catherine gave a sad smile. ‘I can see it, that’s why I must decline.’ It would be fun for a while. Channing would lavish every extravagance on her, they would live in the Deverill town house, have every convenience. Most of all, she’d have the one thing Channing didn’t even know he was offering. She’d have what she always wanted—a chance to be part of the Deverill family. She would have it all and it would have been relatively easy to achieve.
Too easy. She’d been taught easy answers were to be suspect. When something was too good to be true, it usually was. Life would be merry until...until parties were no longer enough, until she wanted to do something meaningful with her life, until Finn came to town, a reminder of what she could have aspired to.