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The sparkle the night once held was gone, and Catherine was afraid to admit why.

Oh, the decorations were fine enough, though there were more flowers, candles, and mirrors than she would have preferred.

Though compared to the opera the night before, it was all flat and frustrating.

Without a dance with Theodore to look forward to, it was just another ball filled with more dancing and dull conversations.

Any time she tried to delve into meaningful subjects like tenant welfare or philanthropy, she was met with puzzled expressions.

In a room full of happy dancing people, she felt lonely. Glancing around the ballroom, she had to remind herself to keep the smile on her face. Was this why so many of the debutantes she met seemed to lack any depth? Had they all lost their minds from boredom?

The idea crossed Catherine's mind that if she had only lace and officers in her head, it might have made an impression on her.

Nonetheless, she believed she had more substance than that.

Her mind was full of paint and stillroom recipes and the families at Pemberley that needed quilts.

That was probably why all the talk of fashion made her want to scream.

“…and that is why we chose the other modiste, because really, who can shop somewhere with such a decided lack of quality?” The nasally voice of Miss Ranken finally finished the story.

Catherine looked around the circle of debutantes all dressed in a similar fashion and all seemingly enthralled in what she considered a meaningless conversation.

For the life of her, she could not remember the short blonde’s name.

The best she could recall was that the woman was friends with Miss Mathilde, who was wearing a white dress with peach ribbons.

Despite their friendships, however, the three young women all seemed to be vying for position in the group.

Miss Mathilde's friend nodded eagerly, causing the feathers on her turban to flutter. “It was a good choice, Miss Ranken. Mrs. Bell, if you can get in, is the very best.”

When the conversation turned to the best shade of peach one should choose, Catherine could take the banality no longer.

She couldn't muster any enthusiasm for apricot, peach, or salmon anymore and if they discussed one more color, she would scream.

She spotted Elizabeth standing by the wall talking with Georgiana and saw a way out of her predicament.

“Well, it has been lovely, but I see my sister signaling at me and I must go.” With a quick curtsy, she walked gracefully away from the group.

Heading to her sisters, she became lost in thought. Was every ball destined to be so tedious? Or did Theodore’s absence really change her night that much? Catherine was so consumed by her thoughts that she bumped into someone. “Oh, I am so sorry. I do not know where my mind was at.”

“It was nothing—oh, Miss Catherine!” Miss Burgess smiled widely at Catherine as she recognized who had bumped into her.

“Miss Burgess, it is a pleasure to see you! Did you receive the note I sent you?” Catherine had enjoyed speaking with Selene and had invited her to tea the following week. She hoped the season wouldn't be so bad if she could make a friend.

“Yes, I did. I was going to send my response in the morning. Joining you for tea sounds like a delightful idea.” Miss Burgess’s eyes crinkled as she spoke and in one moment showed more genuine emotion than most people in the ballroom would exhibit all night. “How are you enjoying your evening?”

“I must admit I am finding the season less to my taste than I would have hoped. Though I have enjoyed the theater, and the opera last night was quite lovely.” Though she managed not to frown, Catherine could not quite hide her distaste for the marriage mart events.

“Yes, after a while, it all becomes more of the same. I know how you feel. It is my third season, after all. Though at least being here for the season means we can attend the museum and the opera.”

“I cannot imagine doing this year after year.” Catherine kept her voice to a mere whisper. It would not do to insult the hostess or the Almack patroness who happened to be there that evening.

“No, you really can’t.” Miss Burgess maintained her smile, but her wide eyes conveyed she was as pleased as Catherine would be.

Catherine nearly burst out laughing at her expression and sentiments but contained her mirth.

The rules of society said you never laughed like that in a ballroom.

One may titter or possibly even giggle behind her fan quietly when no one was watching, but that was as far as you could go.

“Oh, you poor dear, let me bring you over to my sisters so that we may commiserate with you.”

“I would not have assumed that Miss Lydia was out already,” Miss Burgess admitted, looking around as if trying to spot Catherine’s youngest sister.

Shaking her head, Catherine linked arms with Miss Burgess. “She is not, but I have five sisters and three of them are here tonight.”

“Oh my. I had a much older sister who passed a few years ago, and I’ve always wished for a sister closer to me in age, but five ?”

This time, Catherine allowed a small laugh to escape.

“Yes, I certainly have a surfeit of sisters. You may barrow one if you wish on occasion, as I have plenty to spare.” With the way they were getting along so well, Catherine couldn't wait to introduce Miss Burgess to her sisters.

She had a feeling that they would hit it off right away.

Arranging the pillows on the settee for what was probably the fourth time, Catherine huffed in frustration.

She was hardly ever this nervous, but Elizabeth had said she could preside over the tea as it was her friend they had invited.

She wanted everything to be perfect. Gaining friends was hard for Catherine.

For so long, she had tried to always blend into the background, letting others speak for her.

She had since found her voice, but that did not mean she was always ready to plunge forward, as some of her sisters did. Elizabeth and Lydia were both the sort to jump in feetfirst and hang the consequences. Catherine did not think she was born with such flair.

Catherine had resisted the urge to do a little dance when Miss Burgess agreed to come to tea.

She would enjoy having someone who she could talk with at the balls and whatnot.

She had her sisters, but it would be nice to have her own friend—someone to talk with without watching what she said so strictly or having to watch her back. Debutantes could be so catty.

“Everything will go splendidly; you do not have to worry so.”

Catherine was startled by Mary’s voice coming from the doorway behind her.

Dropping the pillow in her hands, she swirled around to see Mary smiling kindly at her.

“Only recently did I realize that I have always looked to you or Elizabeth or Jane or Mama to take the lead in social endeavors. But I have to do this on my own eventually, and I suppose now is the best time to start. Miss Burgess has earned my respect, and I want to make sure that I perform this task adequately.” With a small smile, Catherine gathered the courage to voice her hope.

“I feel that we have the potential to be friends.”

Mary watched Catherine interact with Miss Burgess, who had given them all permission to call her by her given name, Selene.

She wished she had seen Catherine’s need for friends sooner.

They had all been so relieved when Catherine had begun to come out of her shell after the whole debacle with Wickham.

She had come a long way, but it had never occurred to her that Catherine rarely attempted to make friends.

She spoke more often and interacted more freely when at gatherings, but she was never the one to start anything.

Here she was hosting a tea and making friends.

Mary was so proud of how far she had come.

“So, you have another sister who is not in London for the season?” Selene's kind voice flowed effortlessly, and she wore a warm smile as she addressed the ladies present.

Nodding, Lizzie responded. “Yes, Jane only recently left childbed, and is at her estate in the country.”

Selene started to stir her tea contemplatively, as if judging whether to something. “I am glad she came through the ordeal well. So many do not make it through. We lost my older sister when she was brought to childbed too early.”

“I know you mentioned losing your sister at the ball, but I did not want to force you to elaborate in such a setting.” Catherine said, placing a comforting hand on Selene’s shoulder. “Would you like to talk about it?

Eyes misty, Selene seemed to remember a not-so-distant pain. “It was not a very resent loss, but still only a few years ago. Her babe survived, so at least that is something. I have only had the opportunity to see her a handful of times, but she was a marvelous little thing.”

“All babies find a way to be marvelous, though some struggle with it more than others.” Lydia smiled widely as she spoke from her spot next to Mrs. Ansley. Though she was not out, she had been allowed to attend. At seventeen, she would be out the next season and would do better for the practice.

Her sisters well knew Lydia's love for babies, and they smiled at her comment.

The last couple of years had been marked by a series of births in the family, which had left Lydia feeling thrilled beyond words.

Mary looked at her youngest sister and couldn't help but think that Lydia's true contentment lay in being surrounded by babies.

She would not put it past Lydia to marry a widower just because he had children she could love.