Chapter 27: Catherine’s Humiliation

Catherine had chosen the dress carefully.

It was conservative enough to avoid comment and expensive enough to signal compliance. Pale blue. Structured shoulders. Sleeves that reached her wrists. Nothing that invited praise and nothing that invited criticism. Or so she had hoped.

The luncheon was held in the Hawthorne residence, a stone house set back from the road behind iron gates and trimmed hedges that never grew uneven. The table had been laid long before the guests arrived. Linen pressed flat. Place cards printed in a serif font that implied lineage rather than taste.

Catherine arrived early, as she always did.

Margaret Hawthorne stood at the head of the table, inspecting the settings with a practiced eye. She did not look up when Catherine entered.

“You’re late,” Margaret said.

Catherine glanced at the clock on the wall. She was ten minutes early. She said nothing.

“I told the caterer twelve sharp,” Margaret continued. “If you had arrived when expected, you could have checked th