She shook her head and said, “Absurd girl, hunting Season is long over. Now what is this all about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Instead, tell me, are you madly in love with anyone yet, Kitty?”
“Silly goose, if you are going to keep secrets, so then must I,” Kitty bantered.
“Ah, I see, but in your letter you mentioned Brummell … my word, that is quite an accomplishment! Brummell spending even a moment with a young miss? But I can see why he would be intrigued by you—you who are so out of the ordinary.” Ree’s voice seemed to choke.
Kitty took her shoulders. “Enough. You will tell me what the devil is wrong, and you will tell me now. I shan’t leave till we sort this out.”
“I … I don’t know how or where to begin …”
“Begin with Clay. I hear you have been hobnobbing with him and that he escorted you and your parents—”
“Not my parents, only my mother,” Ree corrected.
Kitty sighed heavily. “La, very well then, you and your mother. Since when have you become so tight with Clayton Bickwerth?”
Henrietta picked at the skirt of her pretty cream-colored day gown and tried to dodge the question. “Not so very tight …”
“This won’t do. In a moment I shall be moved to strangle you, and honestly I don’t wish to do that, for I have no desire to spend the rest of my days in prison. Out with it, girl. What the deuce is going on?”
“Indeed, it is true that Clay’s attentions towards me are most marked,” Ree answered quietly and looked away.
“And your attentions towards him … are they also marked?” Kitty was ever direct.
“Many girls would be flattered. I am not. I know that he only switched to me—from you—when he found out you were no longer an heiress. Harry told me that, and I know it to be the truth.”
“Stupid Harry. But he isn’t wrong, dearest. If I was not hurt by his desertion, you should not be by his sudden interest. It is always better to face the truth and take it from there, don’t you think so, Ree? I have always thought you had a better head on your shoulders than I.”
“I know, but when Harry said it … well … I wanted to slap his face!”
Kitty laughed out loud. “I imagine that is exactly how I would have felt as well.”
Ree threw her arms around her friend and cried out, “Kitty, Kitty … ’tis so wonderful to be with you again. I missed you awfully. You have a way of dispersing the fog, don’t you?”
“Now, I shall disperse another fog, the mystery that surrounds you and Harry. Come on, Ree, what the devil is wrong?” When Ree hesitated Kitty added, “Henrietta. You have always known right from wrong, good from bad, and I can’t believe you don’t know your own heart.”
“I do, but I fear that—”
It was at this moment that the morning room door, which was closed, opened wide and a servant announced Clayton Bickwerth.
* * *
The earl left Manton’s Shooting Gallery after having had a successful and excellent shooting round. He had examined a friend’s new firing arm, laughed heartily with a few acquaintances, and felt the better for it as he took on the day.
His mind, however, was still at discord with his heart.
He wanted Kitty—wanted to taste her, wanted to possess her—wanted her for himself. Damn, if he wasn’t going to have her! That meant marriage.
It was a word that stuck in his gullet … and yet, when he thought of Kitty … he was able to contemplate it with a new sense of beginning.
He was her guardian—or something of a guardian—so he applied to himself for permission to ask for her hand, laughed, and granted himself that permission. The entire prospect of asking Kitty to be his wife, his bride for all time, had him happier than he had been in many years.
He imagined life ahead with Kitty as his bride, and something inside of him grew, expanded, and glowed at the notion. Ah, but she will lead you a pretty dance, his inner man told him. Bloody hell, she will, and I will love every blasted minute of it.
Right, then, what was his next step?
He made his way home and found Kitty had gone out. Disappointed, he rubbed his hands, went into the morning room, and there found his grandmother.