An Honourable Thief. Anne Gracie

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СКАЧАТЬ stocking she had been darning. “You can’t gull me, Miss Mischief. You’ve always hankered after a home of your own, and now we’re finally home in England—”

      “But that’s just it, Maggie,” Kit interrupted, frowning. “I’m not home. I wasn’t even born in England. I don’t belong here, any more than—”

      “What do you mean, you’re not home? O’ course you’re home!”

      Kit smiled a little ruefully. “No. I’m not. I have no family here—no family anywhere. I’m living amongst strangers here, just as I always have.”

      “Nonsense! No family? What about your auntie? Miss Rose is—”

      Kit blinked in surprise. “Maggie, I thought you realised.”

      Maggie frowned. “Realised what?”

      Kit pulled a wry face. “Rose is no aunt of mine. Papa had no kin. She is—or was—one of Papa’s friends. You’ve met a dozen of my ‘aunts’ before.”

      Maggie frowned. “I dunno, Miss Kit, Miss Rose doesn’t seem like one of those types. Your pa was always interested in more, more…”

      Kit smiled. “More glamorous females? Yes, but it has been more than twenty years since he last saw Rose. Much can change in that time and Rose may well have been quite a dasher in her youth—”

      Maggie stopped her with an emphatic gesture. “We’ll not discuss your pa and his hussies. Scandalous, it was!” She lifted a long white frock in delicate muslin and carefully laid it on the bed. Come on, missie, let’s have you into this.” Tossing the gown over Kit’s freshly coiffed head, she turned her around, twitching the fabric into place, examining every inch of her critically. Her eyes softened at the sight of the young woman’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

      “You’re enjoying this, ain’t you, Miss Kit?”

      Kit blushed and looked a little self-conscious. “Yes, Maggie. I never dreamed it would be such fun to be a young girl again. To have nothing more to worry about than what to wear and who to dance with. And Miss Singleton is so very kind. I do not care what she may have done in the past, I have not experienced such kindness in…” She sighed, shook her head and drew on her gloves briskly. “Yes. It is very agreeable.”

      Maggie looked at her searchingly. “You don’t think you might like to take the opportunity to get yourself a husband, lovie?”

      Kit shook her head firmly. “It’s not what I came here to do.”

      “Yes, but—”

      “No, Maggie. I am here under false pretences. I couldn’t possibly deceive any man into offering for me. It is one thing for a man to offer for Miss Singleton’s poverty-stricken long-lost niece—though money seems to be so important here that I cannot imagine anyone doing such a thing. But to offer for a poverty-stricken unknown adventuress daughter of Miss Singleton’s former—” She broke off hurriedly. “Well! That’s a very different matter, at any rate. Any man knowing my true background is more likely to offer me a carte blanche than a ring, and you know I wouldn’t accept that.”

      “I should hope not, indeed!”

      Kit laughed. “Yes, Maggie dearest, your stuffy strait-lacing has certainly rubbed off on me.” She caught Maggie’s look and amended her statement. “Well, in most areas, at least. I cannot be expected to have inherited nothing at all from Papa, now can I?” She planted a light kiss on her maid’s rosy cheek.

      Maggie bridled in pleased disapproval. “Oh, get away with you, Miss Baggage! I don’t approve and you know it—and I hope I know better than to try to change your mind after all these years, so dratted stubborn you can be—but you do know they hang people here, Miss Kit. Or transport them.”

      “Yes, and they chopped people’s heads and hands off in China, but I still have both my bits, don’t I?” said Kit. “You need not worry,” she added soothingly. “It is only a small commission from Papa, and not at all dangerous.”

      Maggie snorted. “Don’t try to gammon me, Miss Kit. I wish you’d just forget whatever it is your pa asked you to do. He never was careful enough of your welfare. Can you not forget all that nonsense now His Nibs has passed on?”

      “Nonsense? Family honour is not nonsense,” said Kit. “In any case,” she added hurriedly, having almost forgotten her resolve to keep Maggie ignorant of her doings, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I am merely preparing to attend a ball. Now—”

      Maggie sniffed. “Won’t break a promise, will you? And he knew it, drat the man!” she added under her breath. “I’ll say no more, for I was never one to waste breath in trying to change what can’t be changed.”

      “Yes, and we must hurry, or I shall be late for this ball. Now, where is that shawl, the embroidered gauze one? I have a mind it will go perfectly with this gown.”

      Grumbling under her breath, Maggie fetched the embroidered white-on-white gauze shawl and draped it carefully around her mistress’s shoulders. She stood back, examined Kit with a critical eye, and sighed heavily. “Aye, ’tis bonny you look, right enough, though I wish you’d wear something other than white. It does bring out that dratted brown colour in your skin.”

      Kit laughed. “Oh, pooh! I am no longer brown at all—in fact, I think I look sadly pale. But there, that is the fashion, I suppose. And my gown must be white, dearest Maggie. I am supposed to be a girl just emerged from the schoolroom—naturally I must wear white.”

      She ignored the maid’s snort and searchingly examined her face in the looking glass. “I do look like a young girl, do I not, Maggie? My twenty years do not show too much, do they?”

      “No, Miss Kit. T’aint natural,” the maid said gloomily. “You look barely eighteen—even younger when you smile.”

      “Good,” said her mistress briskly. “I must remember to smile more often then. Now hand me my cloak, if you please, or I will keep this new ‘aunt’ of mine waiting in the hallway, and that would never do.”

      Kit hurried down the stairs. She found Aunt Rose patiently waiting in the hallway below.

      “Ah, there you are, dear,” called Rose. “I hope that cloak you are wearing is warmer than it looks. The evening is chillier than I expected and, you know, that mausoleum of Fanny Parsons’s is as cold as a tomb, and she never heats it properly. I blame that husband of hers,” she added darkly. “The Parsons have always been shocking pinch-pennies, but he is by far the worst of them. I have had to put on three petticoats—three!—and I am sure I shall still catch a chill.” She shivered and hugged a slightly tatty fur cloak around her.

      Kit could not help smiling down at the middle-aged woman as she descended the stairs. It was a little cool, but to hear her speak, one would think it about to snow.

      “Aunt Rose’ was slender, almost wraithlike, with a pale, faded sort of prettiness about her—rather different to the bold good looks her father had favoured in women. And, far from being fashionable, she was generally dressed rather dowdily and, being so susceptible to drafts, always with a great many scarves and shawls trailing about her person.

      And yet, despite the faded looks, despite the dowdy clothes and the vagueness, there was a definite sort of something about Rose Singleton, СКАЧАТЬ