Catriona knocked on the parlor door. She didn't hear a sound, but she felt Griffin's presence behind the door. Too timid to speak, she cracked the door open, leaning her head in to see his shadow in the window.
She stepped in, closing the door behind her.
"Rose, I'm not in the mood for —"
He stopped when he turned to Catriona's polite smile. She held out his bracelet.
"You dropped this. I think the clasp is broken."
He sighed and took it from her, inspecting it.
"I can fix it if you'd like," she said.
He snickered, the shadows in his eyes shifting.
"Fix it?" he repeated. "Doll it up and make it better than new? Like this?"
He pointed to her dress and hair, his lip pulling back in disdain. Before she could answer, he huffed and threw the bracelet across the room.
"The image of perfection and competence, yes?" he asked.
Her fingers rung the fabric of her dress. "Do you hate it that much?"
"You look like the rest of them. You even act like them now."
"I thought..." she stopped.
"You thought it would bring you more fortune? Make you as high in status as the rest of us? It's a good thing to get out of the slums, I can't dispute that. But you seem to change so easily..."
"Easily?" she threw back, fists clenched. "Do you know how much my heart races when I have to speak in front of people? I feel like I'm in a permanent job interview, putting forward my best foot at all times and spinning every possible weakness."
"You do it well for a beginner. Very natural."
"I learned it from you!"
"Blaming me then?"
"You told me not to show fear and to never let them have any power over me."
"I told you not to become one of us."
"Then tell me what to become!"
His tongue grazed his bottom lip as his eyes narrowed.
"Is that all it takes then?" he asked. "I tell you and you become it?"
She swallowed.
"Yes," she replied. "Because you exist... and I don't."
He responded with a painful, breathy laugh, a sigh of frustration and disbelief soon after.
"That explains it then," he said bitterly. "You wanted to exist, so you attached yourself to anyone who could create you. In the end, the form doesn't matter."
Griffin turned his head again towards her, an arrogant glint taking over the darkness in his eyes.
"Is that why you flutter between Patrick and me?" he asked. "To attach yourself to anyone who gives you form?"
She blinked in disbelief. "I don't flutter between yo–"
"Yes, it's natural for a woman wanting status to find a suitable sponsor. I underestimated you. I didn't think you had that kind of devil in you."
"How can you say such things?"
"Are they false? There is a room full of women out there that have done exactly the same thing. How are you different?"
Catriona opened her mouth to speak, but the accusations had jumbled her thoughts so much that she couldn't think of any way to respond.
"The Prohibition has attempted to shame the sin of men," he said, "but yet, there is nothing to shame the greed of women. It's as if everyone forgot that woman ate the forbidden fruit first in order to be like God... and yet, the man was punished."
He turned away and went to his desk, collapsing in the chair in defeat.
"Is that your theology, then?" Catriona asked, her will leaving her voice. "That women are worse than men?"
He didn't look at her as he spoke.
"No," he replied. "It's only an observation. The snake in the Garden of Eden didn't bother with the man... he knew your kind would be the undoing of us all."
It was then that the moon moved away from the window, and his figure was consumed by the darkest of shadows for a brief moment.
Nathaniel Griffin was now in full form.
Silenced by anger and disbelief, Catriona turned and left the parlor, stepping back out onto the dance floor. She looked around the room, the crowd suddenly doubling before her eyes.
Suddenly suffocating, Catriona stepped outside on the veranda. She fanned herself even though the air was cool and the night clear from any humidity.
"Catriona, my dear," Patrick said, skipping up the steps to greet her.
His smile soon faded as she met his eyes, and she turned her head away before he could read her.
"What's happened?" he asked her. "Why do you seem so broken?"
"How do you see me, Patrick?"
He blinked. "What?"
She asked the question again. He cocked his head to the side, taking a long moment to answer.
"I see you as a woman of dreams and possibilities," he answered finally. "Is that not what you see?"
"I haven't been able to see anything at all," she confessed. She sat down on one of the chairs on the porch. "I've seen my work and purpose, but never who I was. I thought if I reached my dreams I would become someone I could see for myself. But the closer I get to them, the more I wonder if the heat I feel is just the path to a burning furnace."
He sat next to her.
"Come now," he said confidently. "What is all this talk?"
"I wanted to be as sophisticated and successful as the people in the room over there. I wanted to know what it feels like to not be held down by your own thoughts."
Patrick tsked. "My dear Catriona, success doesn't free you from any oppressors if the oppressor is yourself."
He took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him.
"There are men driven mad even in the threshold of success. There are men who lose themselves to their thoughts completely."
He pointed towards Griffin's office.
"My cousin is a prime example," he said. "A man driven towards success because of what he lost. And yet, all he does is lose himself more and more to it, and everything around him goes with it."
Catriona swallowed, her curiosity now stronger than her shame. "What happened to him?"
Patrick exhaled, looking over his shoulder, towards the two figures in the distance that were hanging on each other in laughter. Catriona recognized them as Griffin's father and his date. Patrick nodded towards them.
"There are some who fall in love with stability more than people," he said. "We men compete for that sort of thing, you know. We want to be the best choice. I'm sure you women have something similar."
Catriona thought of her jealousy of Rose, but said nothing.
"Did you know Nathaniel was engaged?" he asked.
She didn't respond.
"Funny thing about his fiancee," Patrick said with a sigh. "She's now his stepmother."
Catriona looked at the couple in the distance, the words dripping down from her ears to her stomach and making it sour as she realized the meaning.
"I don't think it would be easy for anyone to recover from that, even after so many years," Patrick continued. "Nathaniel became lost in his work - I don't blame him - and he's been lost in it ever since."
There was a long pause as she watched the couple walking towards the vineyards, and she wondered how either one of them could smile so much, knowing they had brought so much pain to Nathaniel.
It seemed Nathaniel had taken all the shame upon himself.
"Do you care for him?" Patrick asked.
Catriona's eyes came back to Patrick, and she could see the seriousness in his eyes despite his crooked lips. She felt the blood rush to her face, not sure of how to answer the question.
"No need to be ashamed of it, dear," he said, "but I have to say, I'd be disappointed if you were."
"Disappointed?"
He looked her over, his gaze now soft, but blazing.
"I had hoped that my gifts and my company would communicate my affections," he said, taking her hand. "The moment I met you I knew you were a woman of great inspiration. I wanted to give you anything you wanted and see what you were capable of. But it seems Nathaniel doesn't have that in mind for you at all. He's tying down your wings."
Catriona's eyes fell to their held hands as the tears stung her eyes.
"Nathaniel is a good businessman but he's no gift to women," Patrick said. "He's been too damaged to love like that again."
Catriona cringed at the word damaged, but couldn't think of another word that suited better.
"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Patrick said, "but I think you should leave him."
Her stomach clenched. She looked for the first excuse she could find.
"I have nowhere else to go," she replied.
"Come to me, then."
She looked him in the eye, but there was no sign of humor in them. He held her hand tighter, bringing it to his chest.
"I could give you a new life, Catriona," he said. "One where you can live out your dreams and be whoever you want to be. I can give you a place to stay, a job, and the promise to be a man who supports you and your family."
She stood there, stunned. "What are you saying, Patrick?"
"I think you should marry me."
Her eyes widened.
"Maybe not now," he added, "but definitely. I'm positively captivated by you, Catriona."
Her heart fluttered, but she couldn't find any words. Never had anyone - not even her own sister - said such wonderful things about her, or even noticed her at all. As much as she wanted Griffin's attention - as much as she thought it was becoming hers - his attention was forever trapped in his past and his prejudice, and she knew she couldn't release him from that.
The heart of the beast was locked in the tower, hidden away from the world.
Hidden away from her.
"You don't have to answer me tonight," Patrick said, breaking the long silence. "but the option is there. Whatever you choose, I want you to be happy."
He lifted her hand to his lips and gave it a pec, before leaving her on the steps to rejoin the party. All Catriona could do was look up at the stars, wondering what she should even wish for, and if it even mattered anymore.