bsp; Beau laughed and said in a louder voice than he was wont to use, “No, my dear. Your appearance is perfect.”
Princess Lieven was close enough to overhear, and the Beau watched as the princess dutifully scurried off to repeat what she had heard to Lady Jersey.
The Jersey was seen to listen and then pull a face.
“You are jealous. He has never said anything like to that to us,” the princess wailed.
The Beau heard this and smiled to himself as he continued to stroll with Kitty right past them with scarcely a nod.
Kitty’s brows drew together. “I don’t think they should stare. It is most impolite.”
“Most impolite, but they cannot help themselves,” Beau answered and then chuckled.
“Absurd.” Kitty dimpled and looked up at him with speaking eyes.
He felt his heart flutter. Her green eyes with their mischievous twinkle drew on something inside him he had thought long ago dead. He said, “You and I know better, don’t we, my dear. Fashion is absurd, for in the end what does it signify?”
“Precisely what I have been trying to tell everyone … although, I find I do like the look of a pretty gown.” Kitty’s mouth quirked.
“It is a mad town, but I think, Miss Kingsley, you will know just how to navigate through its bustle.”
“Shall I tell you a secret?” Kitty offered.
“I would be devastated if you didn’t,” Beau answered, absolutely fascinated with her.
“Before I came to London, I was wont to turn up my nose at fashion,” Kitty confided.
“Indeed?” The Beau, arbitrator of fashion, laughed right out loud. “Tell me more.”
“Yes. I found, more often than not, wearing boys’ britches, and riding about the countryside unchaperoned made me very, very happy.”
Beau was momentarily taken aback before the mirth escaped his lips. He continued to laugh for another moment without restraint until he was able to ask, “Tell me, Miss Kingsley, do you have brothers?”
“No, sir, I do not. Why do you ask?”
“Where then, did you get your britches?”
Kitty beamed up at him. “We do have shops, even in the wilds of the New Forest. I do so prefer riding astride to a ladies’ saddle, you see.”
He said affectionately, amazed that he felt this degree of fondness for the chit, “Shall I tell you a secret, Miss Kingsley?”
“Oh yes, it is only fair, after all.”
“And I can already tell that you play fair whenever you can,” he answered and touched her forehead. “This …” he said, withdrawing his finger from the slight pressure he had put there, to touch the region of his own heart, “and this are things that make a soul. Mind and heart. I trust that your new and dazzling finery will never outshine your soul, for you were gifted with beauty inside and out.”
“What a perfectly lovely thing to say,” Kitty answered and sighed. “Things do get all muddled up in town, and one does get caught up in it all, but you are quite right … one must never lose sight of what is important.”
“Just so,” he answered.
“And here I am … apparently selling myself to the highest bidder in this parade of debutantes. It is, I think, most demeaning.”
“Ah, but my dear, I already have your measure, and there is not an inch of you that could be demeaned in the beau monde. I daresay after tonight they will grovel at your feet.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Why, indeed,” he said, knowing that he had just made her the diamond of the first water and that everyone had been whispering she was. Everyone would want to be in her company to learn how she had fascinated the Beau for so long—he knew this and secretly laughed at the absurdity of it.
The earl arrived before them and stood grinning at the Beau as he inclined his head.