Kitty. Elizabeth Bailey

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СКАЧАТЬ them up from that Frenchwoman.’ But he scratched thoughtfully at his chin. ‘Pity we didn’t think of getting your clothes before we left Paddington.’

      ‘How should we have done so when you were abducting me?’ uttered Kitty with scorn. ‘Besides, none of my clothes are suitable for a viscountess. Indeed, there is little at the Seminary that I care to keep, except perhaps one or two personal items like the letters from my friends.’

      ‘We can fetch those after we’re married,’ said Claud, dismissing this. ‘Nothing for it but to get one or two more gowns from that mantua-maker.’

      In the event, this programme proved inadequate. Repairing to the little salon off Bond Street, Kitty found herself in possession of two additional gowns, both muslin, one plain and one spotted in black, and a thick cloak to wear upon the journey. But Madame was able to supply neither silk stockings nor those essential items of underclothing of which a young lady going upon a journey stood in crying need. When Kitty, prompted by Madame, also mentioned hats and shoes, it was borne in upon Claud that his blithe intention to enter upon matrimony was going to prove a good deal more complicated than he had anticipated.

      Already shaken by hints from the mantua-maker that she had divined his purpose, he came within an ace of abandoning it altogether. The remembrance of the inevitable confrontation with the Countess strengthened him, however, and he had the happy notion of paying one of Madame’s sewing-women to take Kitty beyond Bond Street and into a less fashionable arena further north where a plethora of shops of every description might furnish all she required. Meanwhile he could attend to his own needs.

      Armed with a roll of bank notes—which was more money than she had ever dreamed of—Kitty spent an exhilarating, if bewildering, couple of hours shifting from one thoroughfare into another. The woman who accompanied her, delighted to be released from incarceration below stairs at the salon, entered into her requirements with great enthusiasm, bustling her from shop to shop and bargaining in a merry way with the tradesmen. Kitty could only be glad of her escort, for she had no idea where she was, nor how to choose of the myriad wares offered for sale. The streets were so busy that passers-by could not but jostle her, and her confusion grew as she was led past all manner of window displays and enticing signs. Fishmongers rubbed shoulders with snuff makers, and busts with glass eyes stared out at her to show off the wigs of the perruquier. The milliner she visited was placed beside an apothecary’s with curious bottles of remedies; the shoemaker was found beside a jeweller’s, and the discreet requirements of her toilette were next door to a shop selling exquisite lamps of glass and alabaster.

      By the time Kitty returned to the salon, exhausted, both she and her companion were burdened with so many packages that she was unable to remember what was in them. She plonked down upon a chair proffered by Madame to wait for Claud’s return, daunted by the rapidly gathering apprehension that he would scold her for having spent so much money. But time passed, and his lordship put in no appearance.

      Madame, whose expression became more pitying as the afternoon wore on, suffered her assistant to shift the packages out of sight behind a curtain while another customer was served, and at length had a dish of tea brought for Kitty’s refreshment. She sipped it gratefully, desperately trying to hide her growing dismay under a cheerful front. What would she do if Claud had chosen to abandon her? No matter how many times she told herself stoutly that this was unlikely, the horrid thought would keep obtruding.

      But just as Madame was making noises about closing the shop, and Kitty had begun desperately to think of how she could get herself back to Paddington—never mind explaining the money she had left and the acquisition of so much finery!—a commotion below signalled the arrival of her betrothed.

      Only it was not Claud, but his groom Docking, sent in his stead to collect Kitty and drive her to his lordship’s lodging in Charles Street. This proved to be a roomy apartment occupying the better part of one floor of a large mansion. Kitty was unloaded into it, together with all her packages, and into the hands of a disapproving individual who introduced himself as Mixon.

      ‘I am his lordship’s valet, miss.’

      Mixon showed Kitty into a masculine bedchamber, with a dwarf bookcase and a whatnot, besides the bed and the press. It served, so the valet informed her, for accommodation for any of his lordship’s friends who might happen to stay the night. There was, to her chagrin, no sign of Claud himself.

      ‘Where is Lord Devenick?’

      The valet bowed. ‘His lordship has gone out for the evening. He requested me to make you comfortable. A meal has been ordered and will be served presently.’

      Kitty gazed at the man, stupefied. ‘Gone out for the evening? But we are supposed to be—’

      She broke off, suddenly and acutely aware of the invidious nature of her position. She could scarcely discuss her elopement with his lordship’s valet!

      Mixon coughed. ‘His lordship informed me that you are taking a journey, miss, but he thought it rather too late to set out. It is his wish that you rest yourself, ready for an early start in the morning. As for these, miss—’ indicating the packages littering the bed ‘—would you wish me to lend you one of his lordship’s portmanteaux?’

      But Kitty was in no mood to think about packing. In vain did she strive to repress an enveloping sense of outrage and indignation. She was to rest, while his horrid lordship disported himself at some jollification! Had he not complained of having to miss a party? Not content with leaving her for hours to wait for him at the mantuamaker’s, he not only neglected to fetch her himself, but left her—a stranger to the town and his betrothed to boot!—without explanation or reassurance, to the ministrations of his valet and her own devices. He was the most selfish creature she had ever met in her life! And nothing would induce her to marry him.

      Attired in silk breeches of his favourite green and a coat of similar hue over a fancy flowered waistcoat, Claud had just come off the floor after a dutiful country dance with his sister Lady Barbara Cheddon, just out this season, when he was accosted in the outer gallery by his cousin Kate.

      ‘Claud, I must talk to you alone!’

      Lady Barbara pricked up her ears. A pretty, fair-haired creature, whose even features closely resembled those of her brother, she was correctly and demurely gowned, like her cousin, in the ubiquitous white thought suitable for debutantes, but augmented with a half-robe of lilac net. Noting how his cousin was similarly elegant in a vest of crimson velvet, Claud was assailed by a vision of that overblown spangled gown Kitty had insisted on buying. He made a mental vow to oversee her wardrobe for the future. His attention was drawn swiftly back to his sister.

      ‘Secrets? Fie, Kate! But if it is about your betrothal, you need not mind me, for I know all about it.’

      ‘That’ll do, Babs!’ scolded Claud, casting a quick glance about to make sure that his mother was nowhere within earshot. The gallery contained several odd groups seeking relief from the heat, who stood about chatting and fanning themselves, but there was no sign of the Countess of Blakemere. Relieved, Claud returned his attention to his sister. ‘It ain’t that at all. Besides, we are not going to be betrothed.’

      Claud came under the beam of his sister’s questioning blue gaze. ‘But Mama says you are, and if she wants you to marry, I don’t see how you couldn’t.’

      ‘You’ll soon see how,’ he declared, with more force than he intended, impelled by the image that had been revolving in his mind all evening.

      ‘Even your mama cannot force us,’ Kate put in, her voice low.

      Babs looked from СКАЧАТЬ