Courting Kit

Her friend smiled and said, “Thank you and, Kit … talk about beauty. You are stunning. Do you know how many women would die to have your shade of yellow hair?”

Kitty laughed. “Wouldn’t do them any good if they were dead.” Kitty waved this off. “’Tis all nonsense. But, Ree, I can’t be seen in this gown.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at me. Yes, the shade of blue is very nice, but ’tis no more than a schoolgirl’s gown,” Kitty wailed. “What can be done? I asked Nanny, but she clucked her tongue and said ‘naught’.”

“Let me see,” Ree said and walked around her friend with her finger to her nose. “Do you know what? You don’t need this bow.” She went to the drawer and found a pair of scissors. She removed the offending bow from Kitty’s bodice and stood back. “There—that is better.”

“Hmm,” Kitty said, still not happy.

“Right then, we don’t need the lace, but the lace presently conceals those large swells of yours above your bodice … without the lace … oh my,” Ree advised, her one brow up.

“Yes, we don’t need the lace. I am after all, twenty years old,” Kit said excitedly.

Ree removed the thick flounce of lace at the scooped bodice, and both girls stood in front of the mirror to admire.

“Oh yes, the simple lines of the gown hug your figure just so … yes, you will do for a country dinner. What do you think?” Ree asked.

Kitty put an arm around Ree’s waist. “Thank you, Ree. You are though, I think, prejudiced by friendship.”

“Absurd girl, don’t you see how beautiful you are? But we are not done. Now, your hair.”

A few moments were spent brushing and pinning her long hair at the top of Kitty’s head, with the result being quite dramatic.

“Oh, Kitty … you look like a goddess … you do,” Ree said admiringly.

“No, I am far too short to be a goddess. You are the goddess. I am the sprite.”

Both girls laughed, and Henrietta said, “Well … this should meet with the earl’s approval.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Kitty said without thinking.

“Do you?” Her friend was surprised and looked at her. “Since when do you care about the opinions of others—especially the earl’s—for I swear I heard you imply more than once that his opinion did not matter?”

“Well, he does matter, after all … doesn’t he? I am going to stay in his home, and he has done this little dinner for me and … well, yes, he annoys me at times, but he also challenges me, and I think I like that.”

“Kitty, my Kitty is growing up,” Henrietta said in a worldly tone.

Kitty laughed. “Look at you coming all wise and staid and only a year older than I. ’Tis absurd.”

“Staid? Ha, never around you,” Ree said.

“You know,” Kitty said quietly then, “the earl might have his doubts about me making the transition from country life to town life, but I haven’t a doubt in the world.”

“Haven’t you?” Ree said dubiously. “Haven’t you indeed.”

* * *

At that moment, the Earl of Halloway found himself playing host in the library to both Harry and Clayton. They had already managed to imbibe a respectable quantity of brandy and were in high spirits.

The two young men quickly discovered that horse, hounds, and the chase were common and safe ground, and a lively conversation ensued. As anecdotes and experiences were shared with great vivacity, the earl regarded his younger companions with something close to wonder.

What had happened to his life?

He was only seven and twenty, only a few years older than these lads, but for some inexplicable reason he felt a century older. Was he that jaded? Had life in London so ruined him?

He could not help feeling, as he watched the two young men banter with one another, that he was an outsider.