“Did Jenny have a good time at the ball?” Aunt Chloe asked, draping the gown Cathleen had worn over a chair. “She had a wonderful time,” Cathleen said, pulling on her dressing gown. Which is more than I can say for myself. Aunt Chloe reached for the brush. “I can manage to take my hair down,” Cathleen said. “Thank you.” Suppressing a yawn, Aunt Chloe nodded. “Good night,” Cathleen told her. “Night,” Aunt Chloe said and quietly left the room. Cathleen dropped onto the stool of her dressing table and buried her face in her palms. Tears sprang to her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had no one to blame but herself for making her look like a fool. Come to me tonight. Her stomach tightened at the memory of Ransom’s request. She glanced toward the window and the door that led out onto the back balcony and to the stairs she would have stolen down to go and meet Ransom. Not tonight. Not ever again. She practically ripped the pins from her hair and then raked the brush through the once fashionable curls.
