Kitty was madly in love but never more so than in that moment. He was kind, generous, honorable, and dear. She said, “You are most kind, my lord. Thank you.”
The earl seemed to swell at her words. A smiled curved his luscious lips, and he said, “Till later, then.”
Kitty watched him
go, marveling at the display of affection he had shown her with those deep blue eyes of his. Eyes could say so much more than words. Eyes were, as the saying went, certainly that doorway to the soul. She truly believed that. Well, had it been only four weeks ago when she was cursing him beneath her breath? Absurd. Life was, at times, absurd. She plopped onto a leather chair and suddenly remembered Harry fidgeting and pacing a few feet away. “Stop, sit, and tell me all.”
He laughed, but there was no joy in the sound, and with a frenzied sweep of his hair he sat beside her and confessed, “Damnation, Kit … I am in a muddle.”
“What sort of muddle?”
“I don’t know where to begin,” he said and sighed heavily.
“Don’t you? Right, I shall give you a beginning then. I left for London, and you …?”
“Ah, me, indeed, I was left with nothing to do but make a mess of things,” he said, and his face darkened.
“Very well, I take it you missed me,” Kitty said on a laugh.
He eyed her then. “Missed you? Just told you I made a mess of things. Henrietta missed you as well. She fell, I think, into the dismals.”
“No, not Ree.”
“Well, that is probably doing it too brown, but, indeed, she wasn’t herself either.”
“Well, even she did not write very much. I only received two letters to my four, and hers were just a jumble of words. Very unlike her.” Kitty then mused over this to herself.
“Did … did she mention me in her letters?” Harry asked, hope glittering in his eyes.
“Yes, she said you were well, but nothing more, also odd, not like Ree at all. What the deuce are you not telling me?”
“Did she mention Clay?”
“Another odd thing. She did, and I was surprised because when I left for London, I rather thought she did not like Clay overly.” Kitty felt she was on the verge of sniffing out the mystery.
“Kitty, Henrietta should be arriving in London, sometime today!” Harry exploded with this announcement, stood, turned in place, and sat heavily down once more.
Kitty eyed him, for he seemed absolutely miserable. “This is thrilling news, at least for me, Harry … does it not please you for some reason?”
“She comes to do some shopping and to see you,” he said dolefully.
“Harry, I am beginning to feel as though I am reading a gothic piece, and it is being fed to me in chapters.”
“Right. Let me see if I can paint you a picture then. Do you know who accompanies Henrietta and her family?” He didn’t wait for her to guess. “Clay is with them.”
Kitty was stunned by this piece of information and saw at once why her friend was despondent and a touch angry. This was all terrible news. She had left thinking that her dear Harry and her closest friend Ree would make a match of it. How had Clay Bickwerth insinuated himself with her usually very intelligent and discerning friend?
“This is most irritating.” Kitty wrung her hands. “Ree … should realize that Clay is looking to her inheritance. Besides, I can’t believe that she even was comfortable in his company.”
Harry took both of Kitty’s hands. “Kitty, you must help me. I shall die if she chooses Clay over me.”
“La, of course I shall help you. You love Ree, do you—with all your heart?”
“Love her? I worship and adore her! But I think I have lost her to Clay. She seems … taken with him.”
“Nonsense, you and Ree are a perfect match,” she said, waving this off.
“Thank you, Kitty.”