Another pale blonde turned toward them and Kat would swear she was the spitting image of what Jade would look like in twenty-five years. They actually could’ve been confused as sisters. The woman took a moment to study Kat, and after her gaze fell on the slight curve of her stomach her dark eyes immediately shot back up to her face. “You must be Katherine,” she said, with a smile that was warmer than expected, yet a little formal and stiff at the same time.
“Please call me Kat,” she said, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.
“Kat, this is Patricia Steele, our mother.”
Kat could’ve guessed that much without being told. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”
Patricia looked around the crowd and frowned. “I think Trevor just slipped away into the house to talk business. He hates these dull affairs. Until he shows up again, I can introduce you to his mother, Ingrid. This party is in her honor. She’s just returned to Charleston after several years in Europe.”
Kat nodded blankly and let herself be carried along to meet someone else. She didn’t expect what she found, however. Sitting in a chair near the stage was an older woman with the carriage of the queen of England. She was wearing a light pink suit dress with a matching blazer, white gloves and sensible white flats. There was a single strand of pearls around her throat and teardrop-shaped ones hanging from her ears. Her white hair was elegantly curled and coiffed, missing only a tiara to complete the look.
When the woman turned to look her way, Kat felt a surge of nerves worse than anything she’d felt before. This was the family matriarch, the guest of honor, and likely the one whose opinion would weigh the heaviest where Kat was concerned. Making a good impression was paramount.
“Mrs. Steele,” the younger Mrs. Steele said. “I’d like to introduce you to Katherine McIntyre. This is Finn’s lady friend.”
The woman narrowed her dark brown eyes at Kat and smirked. “Judging by that little tummy, she’s more than just his lady friend, Patricia.” She turned away from her daughter-in-law to focus her full attention on Kat. “Come closer, dear. Have a seat beside me.”
She patted the empty chair beside her with a gloved hand and Kat knew better than to decline. The older woman was no cookie-baking granny—she was sharp-tongued and quick-witted. Kat needed to stay on her toes with Finn and Sawyer’s grandmother, she could tell.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Steele. I’ve been told you just returned from Europe? That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to travel more.”
The older woman shrugged nonchalantly, as though she hadn’t been globe-trotting for the last few years. “Sometimes you need to run away from home to get some perspective. Though most people don’t wait until they’re eighty to do it. Katherine, is it? Or Kate, perhaps?”
“Kat.”
“Kat. I like it. I’m Ingrid. There’s too many Mrs. and Miss Steeles around here. It gets confusing. So just call me Ingrid to keep things simple.”
Kat nodded, noticing Patricia stiffen beside her. It made her wonder if she was allowed to call her mother-in-law by her first name.
“Why don’t you run along, Patricia. I’m sure you have guests to tend to. I want to get to know this young lady better.”
Patricia looked at Jade with a bit of concern, then pasted a smile on her face. “Of course. We will have plenty of time to spend with Kat. Call me if you need anything, ladies.” She took Jade’s arm and led her daughter to the other side of the tent, where some ladies in decorative hats were chatting.
Ingrid turned to Kat and placed a gentle
hand on her knee. “Relax, dear. I know it’s stressful, but I’m not going to bite. It’s never easy being the wife of one of the Steele men. It’s been over sixty years and I still remember the night Edward—that’s Trevor’s father—introduced me to his parents. It was nerve-racking to say the least, but I held my own. And so did Patricia. And so will you. Becoming Mrs. Steele is like taking on a new identity.”
Her words were kind and reassuring, but Kat wondered why Ingrid was telling her this. Yes, she wanted to do the right thing and marry Finn, but she hadn’t said as much to anyone aside from Finn himself. Then again, the family probably assumed that was what Kat would want: a diamond ring and a piece of the Steele pie for herself. That wasn’t exactly the way she envisioned it.
“When my husband died three years ago,” Ingrid continued, “I realized I didn’t know who I was any longer. Who was Mrs. Steele without Mr. Steele? I was just some grandmother shuffling around the house having tea and waiting to die myself. That’s why I left. I went to Europe to mourn Edward and find out who Ingrid was now. I went to London, to Barcelona, to Florence and finally to Paris. I sat on my balcony on the Île Saint-Louis overlooking the Seine and listened to the bells of Notre Dame cathedral ring every day. I sipped cafe crème, ate whatever I liked, and took long strolls down streets without knowing where I was headed. I found Ingrid again in Paris. And the night the cathedral burned, I decided it was time to come home.”
Kat couldn’t imagine living a life like that, but it sounded like the kind of thing that would feed an artist’s soul. She wondered if Ingrid had some artistic talents, as well.
“It was time to come back to my family. And now I know why. I needed to come back here for you.”
At that, Kat perked up in her chair. “For me?”
The older woman smiled and nodded. “Yes. As I said, it isn’t an easy road to becoming Mrs. Steele, especially in your situation. People will talk, as though they have any room to judge someone else. You need someone on your side. The minute I laid eyes on you, I decided I was that person.”
Kat’s nose wrinkled and she took a nervous sip of her drink. “Shouldn’t you be on your family’s side?” she asked, when she worked up the nerve.
“I am,” Ingrid said with a curt nod. “They just don’t know it yet.”
* * *
Sawyer wasn’t sure how Kat did it. He’d seen people nearly pass out from anxiety when meeting his grandmother. She didn’t mince words, always speaking her mind whether she should or not. She also had an uncanny ability to see through people’s bullshit. Her words, not his. Anyone approaching her with an ounce of haughtiness would be quickly cut down to size, his own mother included.
And yet, there Kat was at his grandmother’s side. She’d been there almost all afternoon. The party was to welcome his grandmother home from Europe, and he was certain there were people anxious to speak with her, but Ingrid Steele simply didn’t care. She seemed to be entranced by the young Miss McIntyre.