by Sahara Kelly
Chapter Three
For one of the few times in her life, Kitty felt her jaw drop as she lost the power of speech for a few moments. Then she shut her mouth with a snap and sucked air back into what felt like empty lungs. “What?”
“You heard me. Miller-James has developed a severe case of lust for Miss Hecate. But given her position in society and lack of fortune, she is, of course, not an eligible bride for him.”
“So he’s going to…to…what, rape her?” Kitty’s voice cracked a little as she breathed the question. “Hecate would never allow matters to go that far. He’d have to…” She closed her eyes. “Oh my God. Hecate.”
Max was silent, for which she was grateful. Her mind was spinning in a dozen different directions all at once and it took a few minutes for her to gather her thoughts into something resembling coherency.
She opened her eyes. “Are you sure about this?”
Max nodded, face expressionless. “Yes. I wouldn’t have told you otherwise. And to be quite honest, I had to think extensively about the situation before mentioning it at all.”
“I am glad you did. I cannot thank you for such a devastating revelation, but I am grateful you shared it.” She took another deep breath. “But what am I to do?” She bit her lip. “If I tell Hecate this…well, I don’t know how she’ll respond.”
She jumped at the touch of Max’s hand on hers across the table. “Firstly, you need to clear your mind. You know your sister.”
“As much as anyone can, I suppose.” Kitty shot him a glance. “Hecate isn’t…well, she’s different to the rest of us.”
“How? She’s a Ridlington…?” His voice tapered away at the end of his question.
“Yes, but she’s a gifted Ridlington.” Kitty wanted to move her hands, but found the warmth of Max’s palm against her skin to be most comforting.
“Can her gifts render her immune to Miller-James’s plan?”
Kitty shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. In spite of her…her talents, she is a young woman and he’s an attractive and eligible young man who has been paying court to her.”
Max sat back, withdrawing his hand, and she felt the loss all over her body.
“I cannot blame her for being interested in him. He is accepted everywhere, and she’s led a sheltered life.”
“Haven’t you all?”
His question gave her pause. “Well, I suppose so. But Hecate is the youngest, and even back at Ridlington Chase, she was always off in her own tower.”
“Tower?” Max tipped his head to one side. “Really? As in the princess in the tower?”
Kitty sighed. “I know it sounds silly. But in truth, it’s not far off.” She saw the questions in his eyes. “My sister has the uncanny ability to sense things, Max. She can sometimes sense things that are about to happen. I know…” she held up her hand to forestall the words she saw trembling on his lips, “it sounds completely absurd. But I have lost count of the times she made a strange statement or prediction, only to have it come true at some point in the future.”
“Some sort of second sight?”
“Yes, perhaps.” Kitty shrugged. “Whatever it is, the family is used to it and accepts it, and cares for her anyway.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Sadly our father was not of that opinion. He believed she was fit for nothing but the insane asylum. I barely remember her Mama, but I do recall a lovely Irish brogue, sweet songs in a language I couldn’t understand, and if I was unwell, I always felt better after she touched me.” She lifted her hand to her forehead as she remembered. “It’s funny.”
“What is?” asked Max softly.
“I had forgotten that about Mama Moira.” She withdrew her hand and looked at it, as if searching for some mark or sign.
A log fell in the fireplace, with a bang, a crack and a shower of sparks. Kitty jumped a little. “Goodness, I’m being quite silly.” She straightened in her chair. “Right then. Upon consideration, I think the best way to start is to steer Hecate away from Mr. Miller-James as much as possible. I will stay closer to her at any events we attend, and I’ll also ask Aunt Venetia to make sure that if I can’t accompany her, then she will.”
“Will that suffice, do you think?”
Kitty’s shoulders sagged a little. “I do hope so.” She looked at Max. “I would hate to have to be the one who shattered any dreams she may cherish and I will not have this situation degenerate into a scandal for her. Hecate is a good woman, who wants nothing more than for people to find happiness. Probably because she’s aware we Ridlingtons don’t have much luck in that department.”
“You will have to expand on that comment, Kitty. But perhaps we can talk in the carriage? The hour progresses…”
She glanced outside to see sunshine. “Oh my goodness. Yes, we must be off.”
“Still want to set tongues wagging? I can send you home with a footman, you know. Nobody need be aware of our morning rendezvous.”
She rose and gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I would back down?”
“Forgive me. I should have known better.”
Shaking out her skirts, she snorted. “You barely know me at all, so I shall let it pass. It’s unlikely you’re aware I never renege on anything.” Moving to the door, she glanced over her shoulder. “Well, come on then.”
She didn’t see his grin as he rose and followed her.
“No I don’t know you well, stubborn chit. Yet. But I will.”
She didn’t hear that, either.
*~~*~~*
The drive back to town was accomplished in a companionable silence, which was acceptable to Max for several reasons.
Mostly because it gave him time to collect his impressions of Kitty Ridlington; to consider their private breakfast and review the things he’d learned about her over tea and toast.
He guessed she was busy with her own thoughts, since her eyes wandered over the countryside and yet seemed more focussed inward than on the changing landscape through which they drove.
For himself, he let his mind absorb several facts about her. She was a great deal more intelligent than others of her status. The young women near her age, most of whom were already married, showed none of the intellectual capacity, wit or humour, that were an integral part of Kitty. She could hold a conversation, return jest for jest, and showed a ready grasp of concepts and ideas, to the point where she would voice her own opinions without hesitation.
He had to wonder if she had not been bored to tears during her London tenure.
He also admired that lift of her chin. It came in to play when she was making an assertion, defending some point of view, or in response to something she perceived as a challenge.
He admired her honesty in that there was no pretense or prevarication in her manner. She looked one straight in the eye without hesitation.
In short, Max realized she was indeed close to his ideal woman. Would he do well to wed her? The thought crossed his mind, as it had done several times in the past when he’d met someone slightly out of the ordinary run of things. Someone interesting enough to intrigue him.
Unfortunately, those experiences had not survived the hints he’d dropped about some of his personal preferences. A couple of ladies had frowned in confusion and moved away from his circle. Others had been shocked or perturbed at his veiled suggestions.
He wondered what Kitty’s response might be.
“Do you think anyone will be abroad?”
Her voice interrupted his thoughts at an inappropriate moment. He was just about to imagine her naked and lashed to his bedposts. “Abroad?”
She frowned. “Yes, Max. Abroad. As in riding up and down Hyde Park.”
“Oh.” He chastised himself. “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” He glanced at the sky. “I believe we shall be in luck and find at least a few carriages out.”
“Well that’s good.” She folded her hands. “One cannot create scandalous gossip if the only things to observe the event are
pigeons.”
“Indeed.” He grinned. “I’ve also found that any time single gentlemen like to enjoy a good gallop early in the day, which is of course quite inappropriate, there will be more than a few ladies managing to accidentally be there observing the disgraceful behavior.”
“It sounds as if you speak from experience,” she flashed him a quick smile.
“Me?” He managed to sound shocked.
“Oh really, Max. Give over, do.”
“Well, all right then. I have been known to take the air at dawn in Rotten Row. Along with the grooms and jockeys. If the weather’s right, it’s a most appealing gallop.”
She sighed. “I’m not a good rider, so I’ll take your word for it.”
“You have no horse in London, I take it?”
Kitty shook her head. “No. We don’t really need a hack. And at Ridlington, we walked or used the gig.”
“I will mount you if you wish,” he said. Then wished he hadn’t, as the vision his words engendered sent a bolt of arousal directly to his groin. He shifted a little on the hard seat.
“That’s a generous offer, and I appreciate it. But I must refuse, not because it would be appallingly shocking, but because it would be a waste of a horse.” She laughed. “And we’re about to be shocking enough. Let’s start there.”
The chimneys of London were already in sight, and it wasn’t long before the road gave way to city lanes and the outskirts of the Metropolis.
“We’re almost there. Last chance to change our plans…”
“Max.” Kitty looked at him, lifting that chin again. “I’m not going to change my mind. If you’re having second thoughts, of course…”
He grinned at her. “Scandal is my middle name.”
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
“All right, it’s Frederick. But you understand what I mean.”
“Indeed.” She settled herself comfortably, tilted her bonnet to the precise angle that flattered her the most, and folded her hands in her lap. “Onward, Max. Onward into an excitingly scandalous adventure.
Chapter Four
Several days later, Kitty had to ask herself if being the object of gossip was such a good thing after all.
“You could have been ruined, my dear.”
Aunt Venetia wrung her hands yet again, making Kitty wonder if they might drop off any time soon, since she’d been wringing them constantly for what seemed like years.
“But I wasn’t, Aunt.” She sighed. “Do you wish me to leave?”
“Good God no.” Venetia blinked at her. “Have you any idea how many invitations we’ve received since…since…er…the event?”
“No,” answered Kitty. She hadn’t really paid much attention.
“An awful lot,” said Venetia. “More than I could have imagined. Yes, we’ve been accepted into the right circles, thanks to my windfall. But this, your appearance with Mr. Seton-Mowbray…well, that’s really brought us into the limelight.”
“So I’m not ruined?”
“Not yet, I don’t think. At the moment, you’re a figure of interest. Seton-Mowbray is known to be stand-offish with eligible young women. Many would be desirable matches for him, but he’s turned his nose up at so many seasons that most mothers have given up on him.”
“So now they believe he might be back in the marriage-mart?”
“Yes, I think you both may have raised a few hopes in that department.” Venetia shook her head. “We did have a similar conversation to this one, Kitty, if you recall. I must reiterate my opinion that he would indeed be an excellent match for you…,” her voice betrayed a slightly hopeful tone.
Kitty smiled. “Don’t get excited, Aunt. I shall never marry. I am quite decided that the life of a beloved Aunt to my brothers’ and sisters’ children will suit me well. You’ve set an excellent example in that regard. And I like the freedom to do as I please when I please.”
“But…” Violet’s eyes met Kitty’s, and the older woman just sighed. “Well, time will tell, I suppose.”
Kitty glanced at the grey skies outside the window. “Thank goodness the weather has been so awful. It has reduced the amount of immediate gossip, since so many of us have been stuck indoors.”
There was a tap on the door and Hecate popped her head around to peek inside. “Hallo. May I join you?”
“Of course, darling, do come in.” Aunt Venetia smiled warmly and patted the couch next to her ample bottom. “Sit here and tell me what your plans are for the day.”
“Hallo Hecate. You look lovely,” offered Kitty. Her eyes took in the delicate blue of her sister’s gown and the matching knot of flowers just beneath her breasts. “The flowers are the perfect touch.”
“From an admirer, no doubt,” giggled Aunt Venetia as she turned to Kitty. “You keep our invitation tray filled, and Hecate keeps our vases busy. Such fun.”
Hecate sat on the couch, leaning into the corner with comfortable informality. “I merely mentioned I missed the spring flowers growing around Ridlington.” Her lips compressed into a wry moue. “That seemed to be all it took to guarantee a parade of blooms arriving on the doorstep.”
“A mark of the affection in which you are held, dear,” complimented her aunt.
“Or the silliness of the Ton,” added Kitty.
“I’ll accept your opinion, Kitty,” chuckled Hecate. “Some people really are quite silly.”
“Where are you off to today, sister? Plans for the evening?”
Hecate stretched her arms into the air above her head and breathed deeply. “Let me see. Today I have an appointment with Madame Margarethe in Bond Street, thanks to Aunt Venetia.”
“Don’t mention it,” answered her aunt. “It’s time for some lighter spring dresses.” She glanced outside. “Assuming spring ever arrives.”
“Well, the fittings will take a good portion of the afternoon. So Mrs. Windersham is bringing Susan and Alicia over to meet me. They have new gowns to be fitted as well, I believe. She has promised us all tea afterward. Then it’s back here.”
“How lovely.” Kitty approved wholeheartedly. Dress fittings and tea with the Windersham girls left no room whatsoever for any importunate gentlemen.
“How about this evening?” Aunt Venetia asked. “Do either of you have plans?”
“The DuClos masquerade,” they answered in tandem.
“You’re going?” Kitty leaned forward, surprised Hecate had plans to attend. “Isn’t it a little…er…fast for you?”
Hecate snickered. “It’s only fast if you keep company with people like Mr. Seton-Mowbray. I shall be with Heather and Margaret Basset, and their Mama, Lady Eugenia Basset.”
“Ah,” said Kitty, not reassured in the least. “Well, I shall be there as well, so perhaps we can keep each other company.”
“And will Mr. Seton-Mowbray be attending, dear?” Aunt Violet’s question was far too casual.
“I believe so, Aunt, but I shall be in the company of Lord and Lady Standish. Louise invited me to accompany them some time ago.”
“Hmm.” Aunt Venetia looked coy. “Well, a masquerade does allow for a little more flexibility, shall we say, in your social interactions. I’m sure he’ll have time for a dance or two with you.”
Kitty sighed and glanced at Hecate. “She won’t give up hope.”
Hecate grinned. “A woman of perspicacity. And you might do well to heed her words.”
“What?” Kitty’s eyes widened.
Her sister merely smiled.
“Sometimes, Hecate, I could just lean over and box your ears.” Kitty felt her teeth grinding together. “When you say things like that, it is really annoying—to the point of violence.”
“Keep that fire burning, Kitty. It’s what makes you strong and important.”
Kitty snorted. “To whom?”
“To all of us. Your family. You have inherited much of strength of our father.”
“Dear God, don’t even think that.” Kitty’s mouth dropped in horror. “I want nothing
from that terrible man.”
“None of us do, dear,” soothed Hecate. “But we have some of him within us, just the same. You have strength, courage and a mind of your own. Quite different to Richard, and he’s your twin. So you must ask where those characteristics came from, if not the Baron?”
“Well this is all quite fascinating,” interjected Aunt Venetia. “But I’d much rather hear if you will be wearing costumes this evening?”
Kitty took a breath and let Hecate’s words settle in the back of her mind. She would explore them later, she knew, but not with Aunt Venetia looking hopefully at the two sisters. “A mask and my domino for me,” she answered. “The deep purple will match my gown if I decide to remove the cloak at any point.”
“I’m going to do that as well. I managed to borrow a lovely pale blue one from Lydia Revenhall. She decided that green was more her colour.” Hecate chuckled. “She’s quite wrong, of course. It will make her look sallow. But since Lord Foster’s son Archibald will be in attendance, she’s quite determined. It would seem his favorite colour is green, and thus…”
Venetia nodded her approval. “Her mama is looking out for her future, and the blue will suit you admirably, Hecate.”
As the conversation drifted into talk of colours and fashions, Kitty allowed her mind a brief moment to wonder if Max had a favourite shade…
*~~*~~*
The swirling fog and occasional drizzle hadn’t dampened the spirits of those invited to the DuClos masquerade that evening. Max made the observation as his carriage pulled up into the line of carriages disgorging their occupants at the imposing front steps, becoming one of line that threatened to clog traffic all the way to Regent’s Park.
After fifteen minutes, he took matters into his own hands, grabbed his mask and hopped out. “I’ll make my own way from here, Harris. You find a spot somewhere near the door, all right?”
“Yes, sir.” The driver gave his master a respectful nod and gratefully steered the horses out of the long line. Max knew he’d be more likely to find a place close to the steps and thus be able to depart with less fuss and bother. Always a goal of the Seton-Mowbrays. Max had toyed with having that phrase “no fuss and bother” translated into Latin and incorporated into some kind of family crest. But he wasn’t sure the College of Arms would look favorably upon it.
