Edward rattled off several names; most were silly dandies and older men, but one name caught her attention.
"Did I hear you say James Clifton?" she asked. Katharine caught his eyes.
"Yes, you knew Jamie well enough when his family lived nearby. The two of you grew up together, I dare say," Edward said as his glass of wine was refilled.
"Well, he's older than me by ten years, but I remember him to be a good man," Katharine admitted.
Lady Anne smiled in relief at her interest.
"Could you arrange a meeting with him here?" Katharine asked her father.
"Of course, of course. Capital idea, splendid," Edward said, smiling broadly.
Katharine stared absently at her crystal wine goblet. If she married and conceived a child, maybe her heart wouldn't ache so much. Maybe she could live half-alive in England knowing that she had lived too much in Arabia.
"Thank you, Father. I’ll excuse myself," Katharine said, moving quietly away from the table.
***
Katharine settled herself on the window seat in her room, overlooking the vast gardens. Her forehead rested against the cool glass. Why was she cursed to dream about him at night? she wondered.
In her dreams, he was masculine, intelligent, strong-willed, and sensual. Could he have at least one flaw that I could focus on permanently? she thought. Her dreams were too vivid in detail, and he was always relentless.
In the latest dream, she held a beautiful little boy in her arms, with honey-colored skin, dark, curly hair, and blue eyes. She hated sleeping and she hated being awake without him. But, she knew she had done the right thing. They were too different and their lives together would never have worked. Her future was in England, and his was in Arabia.
Her father had arranged a meeting with James Clifton; they would enjoy the gardens and take a light supper. Her father was beside himself with joy and only wanted her settled and happy. She was the only remaining child of his not married.
She dressed in a sky-blue gown that accented her slim curves and eyes, but the color was too pale for her. It washed her out. She chose the gown on purpose. She did not want to shine.
She had not seen James in several years and wondered if they would have anything in common.
***
Her mother and father introduced James to Katharine in the large sitting room decorated in gold and cream colors.
"Lady Katharine, I'm glad to see you well," James said. He bowed over her hand, kissing it lightly. He was a quiet man, with thinning blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. James was taller than her by only a few inches.
"I remember you and your family when I was a little girl,” she replied. “We played together as monkeys in the trees," she said, recalling a childhood game.
The adults laughed at the image and the two began to reminisce. Edward withdrew to his study and Anne settled herself in the far corner with her embroidery, to give them privacy yet still play chaperone.
"I remember you too. A delightful, lovely little girl, turned into a beautiful woman," he complimented her easily.
"You're very kind," Katharine said. She smiled lightly as her blue eyes flashed up to his.
Later, Katharine and James walked along the garden path, where ornamental pears, hydrangeas, roses, and lavender grew in abundance.
She asked solicitously, "How is your father, Jamie? Well?"
"Yes, and my mother as well. They are anxious to renew acquaintances with you and your family."
"As am I," she said. Katharine remembered the good-natured older man named Henry and his mother, Lizbeth.
"Jamie, I have not spoken much about what happened in Arabia," she told him as they both stood still.
"Katharine, what's past is past. We all have secrets and things we prefer kept in the dark,” he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I ask for your friendship, companionship, and loyalty. If you agree, I would like to pursue this and eventually marry. But I will make no demands on you. Ours will be no grand romance, but I will treat you as a husband would a wife. And I would like to have a family."
Katharine's lashes swept down to hide her tears. He would leave her with her memories of Arabia and she would lock them inside her heart forever. I must close this book and never reopen it, she thought.