Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

He seemed quite happy to oblige, and standing by a large epergne in the centre of the room where there were no other guests, Katherine told him her dilemma regarding the earring.

“He says he has it, but he’ll only give it to me if I meet him in the anteroom beyond the passage.”

“Unconscionable!” Jack replied with great feeling so that Katherine happily gripped his arm and said, “That’s very nice of you to think that, but it was my own fault that I lost my earring, and it was because I was kissing him, so it’s hardly surprising he suggested it.” She hesitated. “The only problem is that Mama is being extra vigilant, and I know that Papa would create quite a scene since this is Uncle Quamby’s home, so I daren’t risk it. I wondered if you’d be so good as to get it from him for me.”

Jack shrugged. “I’ll try.”

“Would you? You see, I need it by tomorrow because Mama said she’d come looking for it. So, if you could just hide it under your pillow, since you’re staying here tonight, then I’ll know where to fetch it if you go out gaming, or I turn in early and we don’t see each other again.” Katherine gave his hand a quick squeeze. “You really are so lovely, Jack. I’m going to be so sad to say goodbye to you on Monday.”

She smiled sadly up at him. He really was her knight in shining armour, agreeing to fetch her earring from Mr Marwick; saving her from having her toes trodden upon by George.

And he wouldn’t even be around to witness the magnificent marriage she intended to make. Perhaps, as a result of her future matrimonial conquest, she might be in a position to aid Jack in climbing the ladder to greater social and financial success.

He certainly deserved it.

Chapter 8

Katherine had started off her evening feeling perfectly marvellous about everything. Her maid had done a remarkable twist with her hair, looping it and braiding it and curling it in all the right places. Combined with her new pale-pink silk gown with its gigot sleeves and ankle-length skirt over stiffened linen petticoats, and corset cut in the new style to emphasise her breasts and, of course, minimise her already small waist, she couldn’t help preening when Cousin George declared she was the most beautiful girl in the room.

George, as usual, looked ridiculous in a pair of tight-fitting ivory trousers and waist-pinching lavender jacket with exaggerated puffed sleeves, a spotted cravat and high collar, but Katherine made the mistake of responding to his compliment by telling him he looked like a prize prince. Not that it was intended to actually be a compliment, but rather, Katherine had aired the phrase as she idly fanned herself, to see how he’d react to what, really, was a dressed-up way of telling him he looked rather foolish.

Instead, to her initial consternation, he gripped her hand and tugged her close, so that for a second as he led her onto the dance floor she could feel his moist breath uncomfortably close to her face. “You are a jewel, Katherine,” he murmured. “A jewel, and no woman here tonight can hold a candle to you.”

After her surprise, Katherine laughed. “Really, George, you don’t say things like that to one’s cousin.”

“One does if they’re incomparable, as you are, Katherine. Why, when we were growing up, I used to think you held me in disdain. You and Jack were always dancing about together, leaving me out of the play. Teasing me.” His brow puckered.

“But George, you were always sneaking up behind Jack and knocking him flat, then laughing and running away. I don’t recall that we left you out of anything that you hadn’t already decided you wanted no part of.”

“I always wanted to be part of whatever you were doing, Katherine.” The music was leisurely, which gave him every opportunity to emphasise his feelings which, clearly, were intense. “I let Jack be my friend only so I could be with you. The boy was nothing, coming from the foundling home, but I was magnanimous, do you not remember?”

Katherine couldn’t remember a single occasion when George had ever been magnanimous, but she realised it was better not to argue. George was impossible to disagree with for he always became defensive and petulant. And as he was holding her in a waltz hold it was simply better to say, “I’m sure you always meant to be kind.”

“And I would be kind to you, Katherine, if you’d let me.”

“What?” She blinked in surprise at this unexpected turn in the conversation.

He pressed her closer to him, his eyes bright with an unnatural fervour. It was rather unnerving, and Katherine was very glad to be in the midst of several hundred people who, fortunately, were oblivious to her cousin’s passionate outburst.

“I’d revere you like the most precious flower. I’d place you on a pedestal and kiss your slippers. I’d worship you.”

“Well, that certainly sounds much pleasanter than tugging my plaits as you were forever doing when we were children, George, but really, I don’t want you to revere me or kiss my slippers.” Flippancy, she decided, was the best way to tackle this. Ignoring his glower, she went on, “But as we’re cousins, we can enjoy all the time we spend together under the same roof while I’m here looking for a husband.” She emphasised it ever so slightly to draw the distinction.

“You think I’m too young for a wife”

“Lord, George, of course you are! We’re both only eighteen, but I’m here with the express purpose of finding myself a good husband while you’re here”

“Because you are!” he cut her off. “Katherine, I know I’m young, but if you’ll only wait”

“Really, George, I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. At eighteen, you’re still a boy! I’m looking for a man!”

She was relieved when the music came to an end and he led her off the dance floor and deposited her with her mama and aunt.

“What’s put George in such high dudgeon?” Lady Fenton asked her as George slunk away.

“He wants me to wait until he’s old enough to ask me to marry him,” Katherine said, “but of course he’s got on his high ropes and now is cross with me because I mocked the idea.”

Aunt Antoinette took a dainty bite of a sweetmeat which she washed down with champagne, and said with something between a giggle and a hiccup, “I am fond of my son but I like you far too much to wish him upon you as a husband.” Her spirits appeared to have returned, and Katherine had noticed she’d spent a good deal of the evening in a secluded corner with one of the young gentlemen who’d been paying Katherine so much attention earlier. It was interesting to note that the men who were ten years older than Katherine and, therefore, ten years younger than her aunt, appeared to be equally complimentary to both ladies. In fact, Katherine had been taking careful notes about the way her aunt behaved. Her mother had expressly counselled her to do so if only to know how not to behave, but Katherine had learned a great deal of valuable information from the exercise. Like just what angle she should tilt her head for the most alluring effect in charm. And how to use her fan to the greatest effect. Yes, observing her Aunt Antoinette over these last seven days had been a lesson in coquetry—something the gentlemen very much appreciated.