by Stacy Reid
A shock of pure fear and exhilaration tore through Kitty’s heart.
Finally, a response.
Their younger sister Judith lowered the gothic novel The Devil’s Elixir, which she’d been reading in the dim light of the single lit candle, glancing back and forth between her elder siblings. “Kitty, could this be true?”
Kitty had her sisters’ undivided attention. Even their youngest sibling, Henrietta, who had been practicing her music on a pianoforte in desperate need of a tuning, had faltered. Their mother stirred, shifted from beside the lone window in the room to perch on the arm of the sole, bedraggled armchair present in the parlor to settle her pale blue eyes on her eldest daughter. She indicated for the newssheet and it was pressed into her hands.
Her mother was visibly distressed and struggling not to cry. Lifting her shoulders, she met Kitty’s stare. The vacant, hopeless look disappeared from her eyes to be replaced by a hope so bright and painful, a lump grew in Kitty’s throat.
“Katherine, is there any veracity to Lady Gamble’s claim?”
She had prepared for this, yet there was a moment’s hesitation in her heart. For this decisive step in her deception felt more profound, more frightening than anything else. Now she was offering her family a hope that could be crushed if Kitty was not clever and resourceful. There was also a heavy fear, deep inside, that disappointing her mother would crush the remaining life from her. The very notion was unbearable, and an odd sort of pain clutched at Kitty.
“Yes, Mamma,” she said softly.
A peculiar stillness settled over the parlor, as if they dared not breathe for fear the promise of a different future would burn away like ashes in the wind.
Mamma favored her with a long, probing stare. “I am astonished you never told us you met a duke, let alone one as powerful as Thornton. I met him years ago via your father. A most charming and handsome young man, I recall, though there were whispers of an accident that left him hurt. He has been missing from society for a number of years, and there has been much speculation as to if he would ever return. I cannot fathom how such news was not imparted to me. What is going on, my dear?”
A rather large lump formed in Kitty’s throat. She hated very much to lie to her sisters and mother, but she did not want them to be a part of her mad scheme. If she was ever found out, Kitty wished for all the recriminations to be laid at her feet. Once again, her heart trembled, and her resolve wavered.
If her ruse were uncovered, the scandal would be farreaching, destroying all her sisters’ chances, as little as they were.
“Our correspondence has been through letters. I…I did not wish to give false hope, but we have formed an attachment.” Tears burned in her eyes that she had to deceive them so, and she almost crumbled and confessed all.
Except with a gasp, her mother lifted trembling hands to her lips and said, “We might be saved?”
Yes, I promise it, Mamma.
“I cannot perceive it to be true,” Anna cried.
“Why would he choose you, Kitty?”
Her sister’s astonishment hurt Kitty when it shouldn’t have. “I do not pretend to any extraordinary beauty, but why shouldn’t a duke offer for me? I am pretty, my eyes are fine, I am quick in thinking, and I am educated. I am not a spendthrift, and I daresay I can manage a large household. I am also the daughter of a viscount, even if he had been an impoverished one. We do have some connections, Anna.”
“Oh, of course, anyone would appreciate your fine qualities. It is all so extraordinary. What will this mean for us?” Anna intoned.
And for the first time in a very long while, hope shone in their eyes, and the cold knot of doubt in Kitty’s stomach loosened.
“It means our family may be saved,” Mamma said fiercely. “It means we will have coal this winter. It means I will no longer have to swallow my pride and pen letters to your father’s heir, begging for scraps. It means you will not have to return to that dreadful house, Annabelle, and good heavens, it means my girls may have a chance for a better life.”
Judith clasped her hands together. “I may have a season?”
Kitty smiled at her sixteen-year-old sister, who spent most of her days dreaming of balls and courtship. She was already quite decided about her future and possessed too much of a romantic nature. “I daresay in a couple more years it may be possible. A coming-out at eighteen is acceptable. And we may be able to hire a governess for you, Henrietta.”
As it were, Kitty was responsible for her eleven year-old sister’s education, and she had taken rich pleasure in teaching her varied subjects.
She faced Annabelle. “This season will be yours. As the fiancée of His Grace, I will be better positioned to introduce you to those who wish to be in his good favor. You will not be going back to that house, as you were suggesting.”
Her sister cast a furtive glance at her mother before lifting her chin and nodding firmly. Anna was one and twenty and wasn’t out in society as Kitty was. All their fragile hopes had been hung on Kitty finding a good match. After it had been evident Kitty was to be a failure, Anna had accepted a position as lady’s companion to Lady Shrewsbury, and her son had frightened Anna greatly with his brutish advances. Anna’s arms had been badly bruised, and the imprint of the viscount’s fingers on her sister’s inner thigh would haunt Kitty forever.
How Kitty wished it had been her, and not her sweet, gentle sister. Not that she had wanted to be defiled or frightened, but she was made of sterner stuff and not as fragile as dearest Anna.
Kitty was grateful her sister had confided in her; how she wished she could call out the blackguard to defend her sister’s honor, but instead the knowledge had been the additional spur Kitty needed to conjure up her daring scheme. The weight of her sister’s pain and shame felt like evidence of Kitty’s failure to see them all safe, as she had promised her papa on his deathbed.
Kitty hadn’t hesitated to confront the bounder with her papa’s pistol and warn him to stay away from Anna. Of course, the scoundrel had been more amused than afraid, but she had gotten her sister away from that dreadful place. A life like that wasn’t to be Anna’s, Judith’s, or Henrietta’s future— Kitty would ensure it.
Anna nodded, clearly still dazed. “But when will we meet him?”
I pray, never. She had only this season to get things right.
While the duke was a recluse, Kitty did not believe she could fool society for more than that time. Everyone would wonder where the duke was during this farce. They would wonder at the wedding never taking place, and they would rabidly speculate why he was not by her side. She had to move quickly and smartly to secure her sisters’ futures in one season.
It felt impossible. It felt hopeless. It felt terrifying.
Kitty wetted lips that had gone dry. For several nights she had lain in bed unable to sleep, planning for all eventualities. Taking a bracing breath, she spun tales of hopes for them, of an eventual meeting when he returned from Scotland, and how they would take the last of their money and order three new daring ball gowns for herself, two for Anna, dancing slippers, and assorted fripperies. It was such a gamble to spend the last of Mamma’s portion, but she also had to look the part of a duke’s fiancée, and Anna had to be out in society for the plan to bear fruit.
Now that the news had been announced, the wave of interest and curiosity into their lives would move unchecked.
Her mother stared at her for quite a while, and a lump grew in Kitty’s throat at the emotions she spied in her mother’s eyes.
“Sometimes it steals my breath and crumples something in me when I think of the weight of the responsibility on your shoulders, my dear,” her mother said softly, an odd sort of knowledge in her eyes. “You’ve always been a lively and daring spirit, Katherine, and for so long I’ve worried the onus of taking care of us would dim your charming light. You’ve not flinched from everything required of you and have taken on a burden to see this family well, a responsibility that should belong only to your father an
d me. My Artie would be so very proud of you, my dear.”
Kitty swallowed and nodded, offering her mother a watery smile.
While they sipped tea and ate sandwiches that had the cheapest fillings, she gave them hope, and in return, her family bestowed on her the brightest smiles she had seen since before her papa had died.
And it was in that moment the last kernel of doubt died.
I’ll not fail you.
* * *
Two weeks later
Dear God in heaven…. I’ve really done it.
Kitty had remade herself into the fiancée of the reclusive Duke of Thornton, was declared by the scandal sheets as incomparable, and was toasted for snagging the elusive duke. The eager reception in society of the news of her betrothal to a man of rank and fortune had sent her mother into swift recovery, pleasing Kitty, for she had been dreadfully worried she would lose her mamma to melancholia.
Only this morning, her dear friend Maryann had sent a footman to deliver over a dozen invitations to balls, musicales, soirees, and even an invitation to a scandalous house party that had arrived at Maryann’s parents’ elegant town house in Berkeley Square for Kitty. They had thought it wise to drop hints here and there that Kitty resided with the earl and countess of Musgrove for the season. The small house her mother had managed to rent in Cheapside must not be discovered by the ton as her place of dwelling during the season.
Kitty glanced down at the small packet of invitations in her hands. Oh dear.
This one was for the Marchioness of Sanderson’s ball a couple of weeks from now. She had never been invited to that auspicious and most sought-after event before. It was all absurd, of course, as she was the same person who had been among society for the last three seasons. But the almost daily articles published by Lady Gamble had wrought changes Kitty and her family hardly knew what to do with.
The articles had rambled on about the idea of such a match, assessing if it was imprudent or the society pairing of the season. The wave of interest that followed had been more than she had allowed possible. The solicitor who had executed Papa’s will approached her and suggested letting a town house in Mayfair. Kitty had nearly expired from shock and embarrassment, for Mr. Walker had politely suggested he would send the bill to the duke’s lawyers.
At first, she had been confused, and then awareness had dawned. Financial avenues had also been opened to her family because of her fake engagement.
She had denied Mr. Walker, of course. That night before bed, she had prayed twice as hard for her eternal soul.
And now one of those startling changes was seated on the sofa by the fire, seemingly both nervous and self-assured—Mr. Adolphus Pryce. Kitty was pretending to quickly read the stack of invitations in her hands while they awaited refreshments so that she could take the measure of the man. He was thin and carefully but plainly dressed. Pryce had high coloring on his cheekbones, and his curly hair was trying to escape from his pomade into pretty kiss-curls at his forehead. This was a very curious contradiction, and Kitty wondered how he had found her. The card he had presented said he was a lawyer from a prominent law firm.
The door to the parlor remained ajar to lend the correct air of respectability to their meeting. Anna brought in a tea tray and shot Kitty a questioning look. She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug, for she had no idea why a young solicitor from Smith and Fielding’s had called upon her. The painful cramps in her stomach suspected that the duke had seen the article, and perhaps she was being sued for misrepresentation and fraud.
Nevertheless, tea and cakes were served, and her sister departed, leaving her alone with Mr. Pryce.
“How may I be of assistance, Mr. Pryce?”
He hurriedly gulped down his tea and settled the teacup and saucer atop a small scraped walnut tablet. His apparent discomfiture relaxed her.
“Miss Danvers,” he started, tugging at his cravat, which truly seemed as if it were choking the man. “I am a part of the team that handles His Grace the Duke of Thornton’s affairs.” At that pronouncement, his chest puffed with pride, and he sat a bit straighter on the sofa. She dearly hoped it wasn’t the lumpy cushions affecting his posture.
Kitty clasped her cup, the warmth soothing to the chill forming in her heart. She had to cleverly handle him without his awareness. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, and she swallowed it down.
How complicated her ruse got day by day. “Yes?”
“Ah…my superior has tasked me to…ah… We recently became aware our client is betrothed to you.”
She pinned him with an unflinching stare. “Yes?”
“The team has tasked me to, ah…” He blushed, and her throat went tight. “I’m to make discreet inquiries… Ah, that is to say we were not aware the duke had intended to take a duchess.”
The team wanted to find out if the engagement was real. Of course.
But why had they approached her and not the duke directly? Could it be that he was reclusive even with the people who managed his estates?
“Has Alexander not informed everyone of the happy news?” she asked with a small smile, desperate to portray a serene countenance, hoping her probing was on point. Kitty was very deliberate with the intimate use of the duke’s name, and Mr. Pryce stiffened. “Why haven’t you written to him? I am sure he will respond. He did promise it.”
“He did?”
She took a sip of her tea and then responded graciously. “Of course.”
Mr. Pryce’s shoulders relaxed. “My superior Mr. Fielding did send an inquiry to the duke, but we’ve received no reply.”
“How odd, and perhaps not so unlike His Grace.”
Kitty hoped the duke was an indifferent correspondent and she hadn’t just blundered. Her pause was deliberate. “But how may I help your office?”
He glanced around, his gaze landing on the wornout sofas and the threadbare peach carpet. “It took some time to find you, and I did not expect to see the fiancée of the duke residing in Cheapside.” The man was now watchful, his light blue eyes calm and calculating.
Her composure was rattled, and she took a delicate sip of her tea, her thoughts churning furiously.
“My father’s solicitor’s office is currently seeking a more suitable establishment at the duke’s behest. Mr. Walker of the Dunn and Robinson firm…you are familiar with them?”
“I am,” he said tightly.
“Yes, Mr. Walker found the most delightful town house in Mayfair, but I am afraid Alexander was not at all pleased with the selection. I believe his words were that only the very best was suitable for his betrothed.” There, that would explain why she still resided in Cheapside, and yet the terrible sense of unease lingered. There were days she hated the depth of deception she weaved, and today was such a day. Why did this man have to show up here?
Still, better him than the duke…
Adolphus Pryce blanched, and he sat straighter on the lumpy sofa. “His Grace…His Grace went to another firm to handle this matter?”
The man’s shock had alarm flipping in her belly and a realization dawning. They had been concerned because the duke hadn’t used their offices to draft up any sort of agreement, or even an offer of the marriage contract. They were worried the duke may not be satisfied. Of course they had thought it prudent to investigate these new rumors. It occurred to her then they must have investigated the other past rumors as well.
Drat. She frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“It was my suggestion to go with that firm, for they dealt with my papa’s estates. Alexander does indulge me, shamelessly.” She paused in the act of selecting a cake. “Do you believe your firm is capable of finding a house that would please His Grace?”
Relief lit the man’s eyes, and he nodded eagerly.
“Of course, of course, Smith and Fielding is always honored to cater to His Grace’s needs. We will get on the matter right away. By the end of the week, I’ll find a town house in Piccadilly or Grosvenor Square and open a line of credi
t for you, Miss Danvers, at various shops. You may assure His Grace you will want for nothing, and the offices of Smith and Fielding will gladly serve all your needs.”
A line of credit? Dear God. This was going too far.
But who would genuinely believe she was the fiancée of a duke as powerful as Thornton if she lived in Cheapside and wore last season’s modes? Or only the three new ball gowns recently procured?
If she refused this offer, would they then write to the duke? Vast holdings such as the Duke of Thornton’s had several stewards and solicitors dancing attendant to his orders. Minuscule affairs were not brought to his notice. If she rejected this offer and insisted her father’s solicitor would deal with the matter of a town house, the office of Smith and Fielding would feel compelled to bring the matter to the duke, for fear of losing even a bit of his patronage.
Doubts once again rose in her. But would they not also alert the duke that they had found her suitable apartments? “I cannot credit that Alexander did not respond to your office’s queries. I will speak with him.”
Another grateful sigh issued from the man. So their client was an ogre, was he?
“That would be very satisfactory, Miss Danvers.”
Mr. Pryce then opened a slim black leather case and retrieved a sheaf of paper, a small inkwell, and a pen, then got down to business. He was quite thorough, even demanding to know the type of drapes she desired to frame the windows, the furniture required for each room, and if a seven-roomed town house would be sufficient for her needs. They discussed how many servants she would need to staff the house and the shops she would need for the lines of credit. An hour later, Mr. Pryce departed with a confident spring to his steps.
She dropped the faded damask silk curtains as the hackney rolled away down the street with Mr. Pryce. The web she had woven had just gotten so frightfully tangled, Kitty doubted she would ever be free.