“Is there anything else you’d like to speak with me about before I attend my shopping?”
Mother’s frown darkened at Katherine’s insolent attempt to end the conversation.
“I wanted to speak to you about Mr. Ekstrom.”
A pit formed in Katherine’s stomach. “There’s really nothing to speak of, Mother,” she murmured, hoping her words would be enough to end the conversation, knowing she was never that fortunate where her mother’s tirades were concerned.
“I’ve grand hopes of the match Anne can make,” Mother began, her meaning clear. Katherine had little hope of a truly advantageous union . Unlike Anne. “I do not know why you are being so difficult. If you wed him, then we’ll not have to worry about Mr. Ekstrom hovering in the wings.”
Katherine closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them, she still felt no better and counted another ten. “Mother,” she began calmly. “There is Benedict.” Her brother, though young, would one day assume responsibility of the earldom. “He is the heir, there is no need to worry after the properties passing to the next in line.”
“Bah.” Her mother slashed the air with her hand. “Have you not learned how very easily ones circumstances can change? Think of the reassurance we might have if you were to wed Bertrand.”
Reassurance.
So that is what Mother would have her wed for; a secondary protection against the possibility of losing their family’s properties.
“Aldora and Michael would not let anything befall us.” Her sister Aldora had wed for love but had been also fortunate enough to marry a wealthy gentleman—quite wealthy.
“If something were to happen to Benedict, you’d have us rely upon your sister and her husband’s charity?”
Katherine flinched; her gaze fell to the floor. She’d rather not rely upon anyone’s charity, and yet, how easily her mother spoke of bartering her happiness on the possibility of what-ifs. She’d not sacrifice Anne’s future. No, with her beauty and talents Anne would strike an impressive match all on her own.
Unlike Katherine, who would rely upon the familial connection to her third cousin Bertrand, who stood just several inches taller than her five-foot frame, and possessed a paunch waist and padded chest.
“I can’t, Mother.” Perhaps if their circumstances were dire then Katherine would consider sacrificing her happiness and future to a distant cousin with a love for kippers and boiled eggs.
Her mother glared at her. “You would be selfish in this regard?”
Katherine met her mother’s glare directly. “I’d ask that we have this discussion after the holiday.” Because then there was the hope that even Mother would be overcome by the Christmastide spirit and mayhap find generosity in her heart not to ask this great thing of Katherine. For if she did, Katherine would ultimately be forced to refuse the request.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Katherine murmured. Before her mother could protest she fled out the door. She wound her way through the house with a lively step, determined to place distance between her and Mother. When the countess dug her talons into something, she very rarely relinquished her hold.
She reached the foyer, and the butler, Ollie greeted her with a twinkle in his glassy hazel-eyed stare. “I’ve taken the liberty of having the carriage readied for your shopping expedition, Lady Katherine.”
Katherine smiled up at the tall, lean servant. “Thank you, Ollie.”
He inclined his head, and held out her cloak.
Katherine fastened the garment at the collar, and reached for the green velvet trimmed bonnet.
With the exception of the housekeeper, Isabel, Ollie had been in their family’s employ longer than any other member of the staff. When they’d been forced to release the other members of the household, Ollie and Isabel had remained on.
They were as dear to Katherine as a member of the family.
“Might I be so bold as to suggest you take your leave immediately, Lady Katherine?”
She grinned. His meaning was clear, as well. The countess was surely close, and it would be wise to hurry off, if Katherine truly desired her trip to the book shop.
“You mustn’t’ tell her where I’ve gone off to,” she said quietly. It would have been one thing if Katherine had been planning an excursion to purchase ribbons or fabrics, but visiting an out of way bookshop on Old Bond Street was quite another.
“Why, I’m sure the countess will not mind in the slightest your trip to the modiste.”
“The…” He gave her a small wink and her eyes widened. “Oh, ah, yes, the modiste. Very well, then.”