He had asked her to dance.
“Really, Catherine,” Melinda complained. “Speaking to naval men whom we don’t even know.”
With her eyes closed, leaning into a darkened corner of the swaying carriage, Catherine could almost imagine herself dancing. She would rest one hand lightly on the arm of her partner and trip gaily down the line of dancers. She would not miss a single step.
“We know nothing about his family, his property. Nothing. Why on earth are you so intent on befriending him?” Melinda’s voice rose sharply.
Catherine opened her eyes. “Because he seemed interesting.”
Disapproving silence.
Catherine sighed. “You do not have to worry about me, Melinda.”
“I do worry about you.”
“You need not. I can take care of myself.”
Melinda did not reply. The sound of the coachman murmuring to
