Kate continued as if he hadn’t mocked her. “I plan for you to meet all the contenders over the next week. To that end, I’ve accepted invitations for a musical evening, two balls, a tea, and an afternoon garden party.”
Deverill looked pained. “A tea? Must I?”
“Yes, indeed. I intend for you to take the ton by storm. Your formal debut is set for tomorrow night, but if you now have an adequate wardrobe, you could accompany me to a ridotto tonight. I am also trying to secure vouchers to Almack’s—which are London’s premiere assembly rooms, if you didn’t know.”
“Isn’t that where you are required to dress properly and toady to the hostesses?”
“Yes. Jack was once refused entrance for not wearing proper evening attire. And two seasons ago I was banned altogether.”
“Whatever for?”
“I antagonized one of the patronesses by waltzing without permission.”
“How shocking,” Deverill drawled in mock dismay. “What were you thinking? You said you were determined to remain circumspect.”
“I am now, but not two years ago when the waltz was coming into vogue. It was considered highly scandalous then.”
“And you Wildes have always courted scandal.”
“Not intentionally. We just don’t allow the threat of scandal to dictate our every action.”
Deverill’s gaze sought hers. “Is that what you are doing now? You don’t seem to be living life on your own terms. Instead you are letting yourself be stifled by strictures.”
Before she could respond, they reached the entrance to the park. Personal conversation became impossible when a number of other riders stopped Kate to speak to her. After making introductions, she turned onto Rotten Row and urged her mount into a canter. Deverill easily matched her gait, and when she pulled up, there were more greetings and introductions.
To Kate’s mind, only one sour note occurred during their excursion: They came across Lady X driving her phaeton with one of her female friends—a rare, early-hour appearance that was likely no mere coincidence. Kate wouldn’t put it past Julia Dalton to be lying in wait for Deverill.
When the widow expressed delight at his return to England and invited him to call on her “to renew our acquaintance,” her suggestive tone grated on Kate’s nerves. But Kate held her tongue when they parted ways and refrained from asking Deverill about his relationship with the witch.
Otherwise, she was relatively satisfied with the progress of her plan. By the time they left the park a half hour later, Kate pronounced herself pleased. “I knew you would be a curiosity,” she told Deverill.
“I was not the chief attraction. Your many beaux were eager to win your attention.”
And the ladies were eager to win yours.
Unexpectedly, Deverill returned to their former conversation. “Are you satisfied with your life?”
Not entirely was her first thought. She wanted to feel as if she was truly living, not simply letting life pass her by, as it seemed now. “For the most part.”
“You used to run barefoot and wear your hair down.”
“That was in the country, when I was much younger and carefree.”
“And independent.”
“No doubt my independence came from being raised by my bachelor uncle and having three older brothers and cousins.”
“If I recall, you can swim and ride as well as your brothers, and play cricket, too.”
“Because they were always short of players. I confess, I am also a fair hand at archery, swordsmanship, shooting a pistol, and even a little fisticuffs.” When his eyebrow rose, Kate smiled. “Ash thought it important for me to be able to defend myself.”
“Remind me never to challenge you.”
She doubted Deverill meant it literally. With his teasing provocations, he had always challenged her and encouraged her rebellious tendencies.
“I would think you fret under your current restrictions,” he remarked.
“Sometimes,” Kate agreed. After her humiliation with Deverill, she’d learned to curtail her rasher inclinations and act with more prudence. “But I am resigned now to being practical. Society imposes vastly greater limits on ladies, but there is little to be gained by fighting it.”