The cry that followed his bounced off the walls around him as he fumbled his way in the dark. His hands outstretched, he took a tentative step forward, his heart pounding furiously.
“Lady Catherine?” he ventured, only to hear another cry of pain as his foot connected with something solid. He took a step back again, feeling a rush and a heat of embarrassment, which was not an emotion he often felt. “I am truly sorry, I—”
“What are you doing out of your rooms?” she hissed, her voice sounding very near to him as he stared into the darkness, as though his eyes might be able to somehow make her out. “I was just on my way to inform you about this evening.”
Stephen let out his breath slowly, feeling rather foolish indeed. “I am sorry,” he said honestly. “I did not mean to do anything other than come to find you as I have been greatly eager to hear what Lord Nottingham said of me.” Aware that this sounded very selfish indeed, he quickly added, “But I did not want to disturb you if you had retired and so I thought to make my way to find you before you did so.”
“And what of my father?” she asked, sounding rather angry. “What if you stumbled upon him in the dark?”
“I—I already saw him stumble from the carriage and presumed he would have retired,” he said, feeling all the more ridiculous. “I am sorry, Lady Catherine, I—”
“You do as you have always done, Lord Rutherford,” she told him fiercely. “You always seek to do as you please, without any true consideration for those around you. You decided that you could not wait any longer to discover what Lord Nottingham had said about you, giving not even a momentary thought to my particular circumstances or to how I might be feeling after such a long evening. Instead, you hurried from your room in search of me, and have now put us both in a very precarious situation.” Her voice rose and he could practically feel the heat of her anger radiating out from her. “It is just as well that my father has retired, else we might now find ourselves in a situation from which neither of us could easily extricate ourselves.”
Stephen swallowed hard but said nothing, his embarrassment robbing him of speech. In a few short words, Lady Catherine had managed to show up his failures and his foolishness, leaving him ashamed of himself. It was not an emotion Stephen was used to feeling and he discovered that he did not much care for it. He was normally so self-assured, so certain of himself, and yet this young lady was able to disarm him and pierce his skin with such swiftness that it stole his breath.
“Where are you, Lord Rutherford?” Lady Catherine demanded, sounding quite irritated. “I see that your candle has extinguished itself and thus, I must lead you back from whence you came.”
Heat seared his cheeks. He did not want to be led through the house like some sort of infant, hanging onto Lady Catherine’s arm.
“Where is your candle?” he asked brusquely, in a foolish attempt to defend himself. “I do not see it.”
Lady Catherine snorted at his ridiculousness. “I often walk through the house in darkness, as I am well aware of where I am going and just when to turn,” she said practically. “It is a habit that my sister and I have practiced for a very long time. Now, if you are going to complain, then I shall leave you here and you can find your own way back to your room.”
Hearing her footsteps begin to quicken, Stephen let out an exclamation, certain that he would knock over a good many things and perhaps injure himself long before he found himself back in his rooms. “Please, Lady Catherine, wait!”
An audible sigh was her only response. He stood, waiting, his ears pricked up but hearing nothing.
“Oh, do come on.”
He jumped violently, realizing that she was nearer to him than he had imagined. It was as though she were able to see in the dark, her hand on his arm as she tugged him forward. Her steps were not hesitant whilst he was walking tentatively, fearful that he might fall at some point.
“Might I ask,” he ventured, his breathing labored as he tried to hurry along beside her, “what Lord Nottingham said?”
Lady Catherine let out a long, exasperated breath. “I do not know what you are hoping for, Lord Rutherford, but Lord Nottingham was not exactly eager to seek you out again.”
His stomach dropped and he frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lady Catherine sighed and came to a stop, pushing open a door to her left which let out a beam of light. Relieved, Stephen hurried into his room, leaving Lady Catherine framed in the doorway.
“Lord Nottingham believes that you were merely in the throes of some sort of spectacular evening,” she told him as he turned to face her, “and that you are taking some time to recover.”
Stephen blinked in surprise, looking at Lady Catherine as though he hoped she would say something more, to tell him that Lord Nottingham had, in fact, expressed some sort of concern for him also. But she did not. Instead, Lady Catherine merely looked back at him steadily, her green eyes very dark in the candlelight.
“You mean to say that he has no concern for my whereabouts at present?” he asked, and Lady Catherine shrugged. “He does not know where I am but does not have any interest in finding out?”
“That is it precisely,” Lady Catherine answered calmly. “He was of very little help and certainly did not seem to be any sort of threat to you, although he did make it very plain that he disapproved of your behavior.”
Stephen rolled his eyes and threw himself down into a chair, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed.
“Do not sulk,” Lady Catherine chided, now sounding thoroughly exasperated. “It is not as though I have done such a thing deliberately.”
A sudden thought struck Stephen and he narrowed his eyes at the lady. “You are speaking the truth, I hope?”
The moment he asked it, Stephen realized that he had made a very big mistake. Lady Catherine seemed to swell with anger, her eyes blazing with fury, her hands tight by her sides. He held his hands up, palms out toward her, his apology already on his lips—but it was much too late.
“How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Lady Catherine exclaimed, her voice loud and filling the room. “I am one of The Shadows and I will never lie in order to gain some sort of satisfaction in seeing your displeasure. I tell you the truth, Lord Rutherford. Lord Nottingham does not seem to care about or even notice your absence from society.” She threw up her hands, turned swiftly in a swish of skirts, and made for the door. “I do not know why I even attempt to converse with you when this is the sort of response I am to have from you.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Stephen was behind her, his hands reaching out, grasping her arm, holding onto her hand with one of his own.
“Please, Lady Catherine,” he gasped, truly apologetic, “I ought not to even have allowed myself to think such a thing. You are right. I am arrogant and selfish.” Feeling her arm lose some of its tension, seeing her turn toward him, he let out a long breath, dropping his head but not letting go of her hand. “Forgive me,” he said quietly, knowing full well that he did not deserve it. “I am naught but a fool.”
Lady Catherine let out what sounded like a chuckle, surprising him so much that he lifted his head to look at her. There was no anger in her gaze now, but rather a sense of satisfaction, of gladness that he had now been brought so low. Anger flashed through his heart, but he quelled it quickly, aware that he could not do anything other than grovel.