Freedom • Lord Tewksbury

THIRTEEN

Catherine and Enola stood at the edge of the balcony, looking down on the people dancing. Catherine only wished to be down there dancing with them, but Enola had insisted that she keep a watch from above with her.

"Terrible, aren't they? These things, all pompidou and popinjay," the two heard. They turned to see a woman approaching them, and Catherine realized she was vaguely familiar. The woman then looked only at Enola. "Have we met somewhere before? I feel I recognize you from somewhere."

"I simply have one of those faces," Enola told her. Catherine then realized where she had seen the woman. With Lord McIntyre at the Lyon Match Factory. She must have seen Enola there. This could be interesting.

"Mira Troy, private secretary to Lord McIntyre. Treasury Minister," the woman introduced.

"Tabitha. Tabitha Timothy," Enola responded, shaking her hand.

"And you are?" Miss Troy asked Catherine.

"Sarah Hancock," Catherine responded quickly, a false smile on her face as Miss Troy nodded.

"You mustn't let them concern you. It's just a performance. Everyone here is playing a part," Miss Troy told them. Catherine frowned at this information, for never had she been playing a part when she attended a ball. "Testing each other. Winning, losing. And it's fun, once you know the rules."

"What are they doing with those fans?" Enola asked, and Catherine sighed. Had Enola only listened to her for a minute when they were getting ready, she could have helped her with all of this, but no, Enola doesn't use a fan, or wear gloves.

"Sending messages. Saying everything that is forbidden, or too embarrassing to say aloud," Miss Troy answered, she and Enola chuckling at this, while Catherine smirked to herself as she read the messages the girls were sending with their fans. It seemed they were very fond of the gentlemen up on the balcony.

"Thank you for the lesson," Enola told Miss Troy.

"It's a lesson hard learned," Miss Troy responded. "Without power, we women must rely on our wits for our fortune, because our chances are short. Here, take my fan. I have no use for it. And, if you wish to speak to William, you could always try with that."

With those words, Miss Troy walked off and Catherine raised an eyebrow at Enola.

"You know if you had just listened to me earlier, you wouldn't have had to take Miss Troy's fan, you would have your own," Catherine commented, earned a scowl from Enola. Catherine only smirked at her, completely amused at the situation. She knew she would be proven right.

Enola opened the fan and began to joke around, but Catherine's eyes widened.

"Enola! Stop that," she hissed, grabbing Enola's arm, halting her movements and lowering the fan.

"What?" Enola asked, looking at her in confusion. Catherine glanced at the young man whose eyes had gone wide at Enola's action. Her eyes then settled on the young man who was eagerly making his way over to her. "Catherine, why is he coming over here?"

"You just told him that you think he's attractive, and would like to dance with him," Catherine told her. Enola looked at her in horror, and it was all Catherine could do to stop from bursting into laughter.

"It would be my delight," the young man said, smiling eagerly at Enola. Enola panicked, and Catherine watched in amusement as she furiously waved her fan around, the smile dropping from the boy's face. "Well, there's no need to be so rude."

"I didn't mean to," Enola called after him, but there was no recovering from that. "What did I say to him?"

"Let's just say that you have never said some of those words aloud before," Catherine told Enola. Enola paled and nodded.