Post by Kathryn Remington on Jun 22, 2015 21:34:10 GMT -5
After the exchange with the Sandovals in the gardens, Kathryn was significantly calmer and cooler. Lady Maricela proved herself a sympathetic listener and Lord Dante had exerted himself to restore a measure of her spirits. Rather than risk undoing their good work, she remained within the embrace of night, concealed largely by flora and shadow, her seat within the alcove rendering her unlikely to be disturbed until she decided to retreat indoors.
Nicholas had been engaged in a dance when she quit the great hall, enjoying the vast array of feminine company available to him. A slight smile curved her lips at the thought of her brother, knowing that he was not nearly the rake he presented himself to be. One of these days, he would light upon a woman who was neither seduced nor entranced by his flirtatious wit and easy charm. Frankly, she couldn't wait to see it happen... but right now, her thoughts returned to the somber reality before her.
He would come looking for her before long, Kathryn knew. Nicholas was keenly perceptive to her moods and emotions as few others were. Evony came a close second in understanding her, but no one could best her brother for knowing how to read her eyes and posture. Resting her head back against the arbor that shielded her from casual passersby, she closed her eyes, fairly confident Nicholas already demanded an accounting from Pascale and reached a state of heightened temper himself. That only made it more likely he was looking for her, knowing she would take her leave to find a quiet corner in which to cool her ire.
Lifting her head at a slight twinge that had her eyes opening, Kathryn tilted her head to better listen. Detecting a footstep, she hesitated, reluctant to call out in error just yet. Instead, she gently parted a few branches to see who was approaching. The torchlight worked to aid her in that endeavor, revealing the face of one Nicholas Remington.
Right on cue.
"I'm here," she called out to ensnare his attention, knowing the sound of her voice would lead him to her like a magnet to a lodestone.
Nicholas Remington