Chapter Sixteen: Clueless Catherine
"But now that Paul is back home where he belongs, and the stolen jewels are back where they belong, why can't you and Paul's father . . . well, why can't you get married?"
"Oh, sweetheart, if only it were that simple!" Lady Anne tried to smile, but her gentle features wore a stricken look that made Catherine's heart ache. "The Dean and I have an understanding, yes. Paul is home now, yes. But the boy is . . . not right."
"It's something to do with what happened to him in France." Catherine set down her china teacup and dabbed at her lips with a lace napkin. She was just in the middle of breakfast when Lady Anne tapped on the bedroom door. "We need to find out what!"
"I don't know," Lady Anne said doubtfully. The older woman was already dressed for the day. She was perched on the edge of Catherine's bed, but she kept fidgeting, twisting her hands in her lap. "I mean, Mr. Culpepper is very pleased with how you behaved in France. The two of you are getting on much better now. But he is still your legal guardian until you reach the age of twenty-one."
"Oh, poppycock!" Catherine helped herself to more kippered eggs. She couldn't help but remember how grown up she'd felt the night before, when Thomas Culpepper kissed her goodnight. "The great Mr. Culpepper admitted last night that he couldn't have found Paul without my help. That shows he trusts me, doesn't it? I'm the one who led him to that awful place, with the huge Greek at the door and all the boys dressed up in women's clothing."
"Well, that's just the point, dear." Lady Anne helped herself to a slice of toast from Catherine's breakfast tray. "You've seen things that no young girl should see, and as a gentleman and your legal guardian Mr. Culpepper naturally blames himself. He doesn't want you to be exposed to . . . well, to the ugly and sordid side of life. He wants to protect you until you come of age."
"I can protect myself," Catherine snapped. Her small feet kicked restlessly under the frilly satin coverlet, and she imagined herself running to Mr. Culpepper and giving him a piece of her mind. But if she went to her gorgeous guardian . . . if she ran right to him . . . Catherine's pale cheeks flushed crimson as she vividly remembered every sensation of last night's sensational kiss.
"Paul thought he could protect himself too." Lady Anne's soft voice reminded her gently. "But he fell right into the Greek's trap."
"I still don't understand why all those young men were wearing rouge and face powder." Catherine frowned, feeling completely clueless. "They had on ladies' underwear too. But that bald Greek looked more like Hercules, with those huge muscles. Was it like a costume party?"
"Yes, of course. A costume party! That's what it was. Oh my goodness, look at the time." Lady Anne glanced at her tiny watch. "We really must hurry if we're to catch the mid-morning train."
"But where are we going?" Catherine wasn't fooled by her friend's clever tactics. Lady Anne just wanted to keep her out of trouble. "Keeping me under wraps is all very well, but that poor boy needs to talk to someone about what happened to him. And I don't think he'll open up to someone like Mr. Culpepper. Having to confess his weakness to an older man would only make him feel worse about what happened to him in the first place."
"Well, you may have a point," Lady Anne admitted. "I'll tell you what, my dear. Mr. Culpepper has rented a lovely seaside cottage for the two of us. Perhaps after we're settled in we can invite Paul Atherton to a picnic!"
"That sounds like a lovely idea!" Catherine smiled, even though she would have much preferred to invite Mr. Culpepper instead.