while being everything improper.
Catherine watched him stroll away, stopping every few moments to bow or have a few words with other passengers. He was, she thought, watching his tall straight figure, quite the handsomest man aboard, but then she noted, watching the expressions of the females he greeted, she was not alone in thinking that. If only he were not so familiar and so puzzling, she sighed as she watched his slow progress across the deck.
And as she watched, he was stopped by Violet. Violet raised a glowing face as she flirted up at the marquis, and soon the two were deep in conversation. While Catherine stood watching intently, the marquis caught her at it. He looked up at her with a glance of rueful amusement as Violet motioned toward her. And then, before she could turn her head away, he gave her a curiously knowing smile. Then he linked Violet’s arm in his and the two strolled away.
Catherine quelled her momentary feeling of dismay and then resolutely turned her face toward shore again. What was it that Miss Parkinson had told her so gently?
“A female who is a companion, no matter her birth, must always remember that she is not the social equal of her employer or of her employer’s friends. However elevated her birth, she is yet an employee, and she must never imagine otherwise or she will be laying herself open to insult.”
Good advice, Catherine thought; perhaps I should work it in needlepoint and hang it above my bed, for I should not forget it for a moment. And neither, she told herself sharply, should I care about the marquis’ choice of companions. And she stayed at the rail till they began to call ashore and the wind turned bitter enough to drive her below.
Once she reached her cabin again, Catherine opened the door without preamble and then stood motionless in the doorway. For there was Violet, her hat and slippers off, lying back against her bed pillows, talking animatedly with Rose. And Rose, the duchess’s former companion, had made herself comfortable and sprawled out all over what Catherine had assumed to be her own bed.
When Catherine appeared, the two let off talking, and it was Rose who spoke up immediately, “There you are, Catherine. I’m happy to meet you. Seeing as how we’re all going to be traveling together, I wanted to meet you. I was in such a state up there, I didn’t have time for a word. But now, all’s tight and we can have a nice coze.”
Violet watched them with a highly amused expression as Catherine stammered, “Oh, then you’re accompanying someone to Paris, as well?”
“Oh, Lord love you,” Rose beamed, “I’ve gotten my old job back. But don’t look so downcast. It’ll be heaps of fun for us. Imagine, the duchess is going with three companions this time! She thought it was a right old joke too. I do confess, when I saw you with Vi here, I thought I was sunk, I did. But I got down on my knees to Her Grace and told her all my troubles. I groveled, I did. I was that afraid she’d pitch me out. It would serve me right, but then where would I be? She gave me a hard time, calling me all sorts of a fool, and what could I say when she was right? Giving up a soft berth with her to fly off with a gamester and letting the world go hang—it was madness. Yes, Vi, you were right. A leopard don’t change his stripes. And he going off with another like that, leaving me high and dry without even fare to get back to London. But first thing I do back in town is to go haring back to Her Grace. And then I hear she’s off to Paris! Think of it, me giving up Paris like that.”
Rose shook her head in distress at herself. She was beautiful, Catherine thought, in a very different manner from Violet. She was fair and blonde, with a full figure and a warm, comfortable manner. She had fine large brown eyes and a high bosom and a head of flaxen hair, and was fully as red of lips and dark of lashes as Violet. But she was not so elegantly stylish as Violet. Rather, she was
Catherine watched him stroll away, stopping every few moments to bow or have a few words with other passengers. He was, she thought, watching his tall straight figure, quite the handsomest man aboard, but then she noted, watching the expressions of the females he greeted, she was not alone in thinking that. If only he were not so familiar and so puzzling, she sighed as she watched his slow progress across the deck.
And as she watched, he was stopped by Violet. Violet raised a glowing face as she flirted up at the marquis, and soon the two were deep in conversation. While Catherine stood watching intently, the marquis caught her at it. He looked up at her with a glance of rueful amusement as Violet motioned toward her. And then, before she could turn her head away, he gave her a curiously knowing smile. Then he linked Violet’s arm in his and the two strolled away.
Catherine quelled her momentary feeling of dismay and then resolutely turned her face toward shore again. What was it that Miss Parkinson had told her so gently?
“A female who is a companion, no matter her birth, must always remember that she is not the social equal of her employer or of her employer’s friends. However elevated her birth, she is yet an employee, and she must never imagine otherwise or she will be laying herself open to insult.”
Good advice, Catherine thought; perhaps I should work it in needlepoint and hang it above my bed, for I should not forget it for a moment. And neither, she told herself sharply, should I care about the marquis’ choice of companions. And she stayed at the rail till they began to call ashore and the wind turned bitter enough to drive her below.
Once she reached her cabin again, Catherine opened the door without preamble and then stood motionless in the doorway. For there was Violet, her hat and slippers off, lying back against her bed pillows, talking animatedly with Rose. And Rose, the duchess’s former companion, had made herself comfortable and sprawled out all over what Catherine had assumed to be her own bed.
When Catherine appeared, the two let off talking, and it was Rose who spoke up immediately, “There you are, Catherine. I’m happy to meet you. Seeing as how we’re all going to be traveling together, I wanted to meet you. I was in such a state up there, I didn’t have time for a word. But now, all’s tight and we can have a nice coze.”
Violet watched them with a highly amused expression as Catherine stammered, “Oh, then you’re accompanying someone to Paris, as well?”
“Oh, Lord love you,” Rose beamed, “I’ve gotten my old job back. But don’t look so downcast. It’ll be heaps of fun for us. Imagine, the duchess is going with three companions this time! She thought it was a right old joke too. I do confess, when I saw you with Vi here, I thought I was sunk, I did. But I got down on my knees to Her Grace and told her all my troubles. I groveled, I did. I was that afraid she’d pitch me out. It would serve me right, but then where would I be? She gave me a hard time, calling me all sorts of a fool, and what could I say when she was right? Giving up a soft berth with her to fly off with a gamester and letting the world go hang—it was madness. Yes, Vi, you were right. A leopard don’t change his stripes. And he going off with another like that, leaving me high and dry without even fare to get back to London. But first thing I do back in town is to go haring back to Her Grace. And then I hear she’s off to Paris! Think of it, me giving up Paris like that.”
Rose shook her head in distress at herself. She was beautiful, Catherine thought, in a very different manner from Violet. She was fair and blonde, with a full figure and a warm, comfortable manner. She had fine large brown eyes and a high bosom and a head of flaxen hair, and was fully as red of lips and dark of lashes as Violet. But she was not so elegantly stylish as Violet. Rather, she was
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