There was no fog that night, but the wind was biting, sweeping off the river and up the lanes like a furious ghost. She also didn’t want anyone to recognize her, though there were few people out and about at that hour. She had the hackney leave her at the corner so she could walk to the Olympian Club, and thus give herself a few moments to think. When they returned from Grant Dunmore’s house, she had retired to bed as a sensible person should, yet she couldn’t sleep. She lay there in the dark, her mind racing with all she should do, all she probably would do in the end—and all she really wanted deep in her heart. She knew what her mother wanted from her. She wanted her to marry Grant Dunmore, to be mistress of his fine townhouse and his country estate, and take her place as a leader of Society. With Eliza’s exile and Caroline set on marrying fusty old Lord Hartley and being a bluestocking, Katherine deserved one daughter conventionally settled.
