by Heather Boyd
The woman shuffled backward, permitting Kitty to step into the entrance hall of her brother’s home.
“Oh my.” Mrs. Quinn hurried to dip into a curtsy. “Just look at you. So elegant, and your voice so strange now. You sound just like a foreigner. Please come this way.”
She looked around as she was led deeper into the house, ignoring the remark about her voice. It was often difficult to disguise when she was anxious and she had good reason to be today. She did not know what other sorts of changes the years had wrought to her brother.
Percy’s house was decidedly shabby, and she squinted at the room she was taken to with disapproval. “Quinn, why are there carriage seats in this room?”
“Oh, Mr. Hunter put them there himself, my lady. Something about needing more space for his latest project. He says they are actually very comfortable. He did not want them left out in the weather to be spoiled or stolen.”
Well, at least her brother had not changed too much. He was always pulling something perfectly good apart and storing the pieces for later use. He just had not used to keep this sort of thing inside the house. “How does he think to meet visitors in this room?”
“We never have very many callers nowadays, my lady,” Quinn whispered. “Not since his dear wife passed. He keeps to himself and his work.”
“And my niece?” Kitty asked quickly.
“I should let Mr. Hunter explain,” Quinn murmured. “If you could just wait here, I will see if I can find him?”
“Do you not know if he’s at home?”
“Oh, I think he is here, madam, but he has been very quiet today.”
“Of course I am home,” Percy Hunter exclaimed, striding into the room, wiping his hands on a bit of rag. He stood stock still and gaped at Kitty. “Good God, what happened to your hair?”
“I got old,” she told him, feeling annoyed. Percy was older than her, but he seemed little different on the surface. He appeared in good health, his eyes merry and bright. His soft brown hair had not become white like hers had, to her considerable disappointment. His fingernails had black grease under them that he was attempting to wipe from his fingers.
She turned out her cheek for him to kiss when he drew close enough. “It has been some time, brother.”
He deposited a single kiss to her cheek before stepping back and continuing to wipe off his grubby fingers. “Indeed. Almost thirty years now, I would say.” His eyes narrowed upon her and swept from head to foot. “How do you do?”
“I am very well, Percy,” she answered, looking him over more carefully, too. His hair had lightened a little and was peppered with a few gray strands at his ears, now that she viewed him more closely. His clothes, while not pristine, had clearly seen better days, too and he could use a sharp razor being scraped across his jaw. All things considered, he looked almost exactly the same as the very last time they had met—only older. “I trust you are in good health, too.”
“Sound of mind and body, indeed I am.” He laughed suddenly. “Mother would be impressed with our manners today. Are we not the politest of siblings?”
“Hmm, yours have certainly improved over our last conversation.” She studied him more closely. He did not seem the least unbalanced, but she would remain wary of him still. “The last time we spoke, I believe you mentioned the breadth of my hips was increasing.”
He pointed to the bump on his nose from where he’d broken it. “That was only after you commented that my majestic new appearance reminded you of our late and unlamented father’s.”
“It’s your own fault I blurted that out. You should have warned me you had broken it brawling in a tavern. Gave me quite the fright how much you resembled Papa.”
He grimaced too. “I covered all the mirrors for a week when I realized you were right. How ghastly to see him looking back while I shaved each morning. Please, won’t you sit, dear sister?”
The only chairs in the room were seats from a carriage. They were not safe or dignified enough for any lady to sit upon, so Kitty declined. “Perhaps we might take tea in the dining room.”
“Ah, yes, well,” Percy hedged. “You will have to mind the mess there, too, I am afraid. I have expanded my area of study a bit in recent years.”
Percy was an inventor. Most of his experiments as a boy had been utter failures, accompanied by inevitable explosions and the occasional spillage of blood. Still, he had persisted. She had hoped her brother would have grown out of his sometimes-dangerous obsession by now. She looked at his face, noticing he still possessed thick eyebrows. That was something, at least, but she looked around nervously. “Please tell me you have not resumed experimentation with incendiary devices. If you have, I think we should continue our conversation outside. Perhaps a stroll.”
“No. No. There’s no danger here. Please, come this way.” They swept back into the hall as Percy continued to talk. “The catapult holds great interest for me at the present. My testing has borne exciting results so far. The accuracy of my design is improved since we moved to the city. I can obtain more of what I need here, too, for half the cost.”
Catapults were large, and possibly expensive, too. Kitty could not stop him wasting his money, his wife had not been able to, either, but he could not do any testing in the city, so she let the matter rest for now.
Percy gestured Kitty forward, and she entered what could have been a charming dining room if it were not strewn with papers.
Plans, she corrected herself. Percy was a great one for writing things down.
She ran her fingertips over the dining table, lifting them to see her glove covered with dust. Percy had lost his wife many years ago, and it was just her brother and his daughter living here now. Clearly, he should have remarried for the advantage of a wife, who could keep the house in good order for him.
She left the table to glance at the walls. The designs of several devices were pinned to what might have been a lovely wallpaper pattern, but she could barely see any of it. The ceiling in this room sored high above her head, and it, too, was covered in yellowed papers.
Percy had been very busy.
She moved to the table as he tried to clear a spot at one end. Kitty did not study any of the designs too closely. She’d learned as a girl how long-winded and tedious her brother’s explanations could be if she showed too much interest in his work.
“So you have been keeping busy,” she said as she sat on a hastily cleared chair. “I trust your daughter is well.”
Percy nodded excitedly. “Very busy, but Felicity is out visiting friends, I am afraid.”
“Such a pretty name. I look forward to meeting her.”
Mrs. Quinn bustled in just then, carrying a tray that must be much too awkward for a woman her age to bear. Kitty burst to her feet to rescue the tray when it seemed Hunter would not stir himself to be of any help. “Here, let me take that from you,” she insisted. “You should have let one of the younger maids do that now.”
“It’s just the cook and me now,” Mrs. Quinn whispered. “We had a girl come in once a week to dust, but she started making eyes at the master, and I had to dismiss her. Not that he noticed, mind you.”
Kitty nodded slowly. “You did the right thing.”
She dismissed Mrs. Quinn and set the tray down. She glanced at her brother, curious about his silence. He was already looking at his papers and quite ignored her. As a boy, he’d always been oblivious to what happened around him. That’s how he’d not realized she’d been sneaking off to meet the Duke of Exeter so often.
She cleared her throat. “Agnes should also have been retired years ago.”
“I won’t hear of it,” Hunter told her, chuckling without looking up. “She has no one but us to look after her. Do not meddle. I never ask too much of her.”
Kitty poured the tea and held the cup under Percy’s nose, forcing him to set his papers aside. “Thank you.”
The tea was weak but still drinkable. Kitty regarded her brother over the rim of her cup, puzzled. “When wil
l your daughter be returning?”
“Not until dawn. She is gone for a birthday celebration.”
“Are you attending?”
He blinked. “Why would I do that?”
Kitty clucked her tongue. “She is hardly of an age to run about alone.”
“You did, but I always knew you would be somewhere on the Grafton Park estate and perfectly safe. It is the same with Felicity. She is just like you.”
Kitty tried not to wince at that comparison. “Never the less, she should—”
“Mrs. Roper assures me she’ll be treated as a daughter and is very wanted to stay.”
“What does Mr. Roper have to say about that?”
“Diana Roper is a widow and enjoys the company of her daughter’s many young friends. This is not the first occasion she has stayed there.” Percy stared at her hard. “Now will you tell me what prompted you to leave your isolation and visit your poor English brother? Surely it is not to criticize my household or the way I father my daughter?”
She sighed and squared her shoulders. “What the devil were you thinking, accusing the duke of harming his sister? In writing of all things.”
Hunter set his teacup down. “It’s true.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Kitty shook her head. “Exeter did not murder anyone, least of all his twin sister.”
“I never said murder, but he is to blame. You were not here to see what happened after you were gone. I was.”
“You are very confused, Percy. Susanna died of influenza following the loss of a child that never lived,” Kitty insisted, repeating the story Willa had relayed by letter. “I have seen it happen myself to women with harder lives, too.”
“And if Exeter had not been so blind to Ettington’s nature, she would never have married him, and would not have perished through his excessive carnal appetites,” Percy carried on.
Kitty gaped. “She could not have been unwilling to be Ettington’s wife!”
Percy put his cup down with a thump. “How dare you!”
“I speak only the truth. I know firsthand how little she thought of the gentlemen courting her. Ettington had been discussed often and more favorably than most.” Kitty quickly placed a restraining hand on her brother’s when he would have got up. “I am sure Lady Susanna chose to marry Ettington to have his children,” she promised. “No one could have forced her into that match. She was no wallflower.”
“He made her accept that marriage by doing nothing to stop it.” Percy jerked his arms back and crossed them over his chest. He fumed in silence for several minutes. “He was too wrapped up in his own concerns to consider her happiness.”
“I am sure Exeter could not have influenced her opinion either way. Susanna had a mind of her own, and she was not shy about speaking it. You never saw her at her worst, but I have. She likely chose Ettington because he was titled, wealthy and because people would have envied her.”
Percy puffed out his chest. “Are you implying she was shallow?”
She hated to speak ill of the dead, but she could not hold her tongue any longer. Percy must understand what he believed and what was real were completely unrelated. “Susanna Berringer was the most manipulative and heartless woman I have ever had the misfortune to know.”
Percy stared at her. “You were her friend,” he accused.
“I was her companion until I was of no further use to her.”
“Is that why you stopped…” Percy wiped his hand over his mouth. “What did you do?”
“I was born poor—and she let me know how little I mattered. I realized I had deceived myself about those years we spent together. I did not belong in their rarified world. So I married and had a good life. I wished her the same happiness, but truth be told, I never yearned to see her again.”
“She saw me. She rode by a time or two after her marriage, but she always looked so sad.”
Kitty shook her head, refusing to be moved by the image Percy painted. Percy had been smitten with Lady Susanna Berringer, but he could never have been more than an amusement to the lady.
“The Duke of Exeter’s sister had a duty to marry well, and she’d known and fulfilled her destiny gladly. I am sure she was a successful wife. She was quite adept at making everyone at Grafton Park spin about like tops to do her bidding,” Kitty explained. “We were her amusements, brother, and I am sure she found others in her new abode to take our place. We were all living toys to play with when she was bored. Discarded when soiled. It is why I warned you not to make a fool of yourself over her so many times.”
Percy opened his mouth and closed it again. Something of what she’d said must have rung true for him, for he seemed momentarily speechless.
“You cannot worry about the past anymore, brother,” she added. “Please promise me you will say no more about Exeter or Lady Susanna. It is important that we forget them.”
Percy’s shoulders sagged. “You were always warning me not to depend on them for friendship. Exeter has deserted me, too.”
“We were easily fooled that we could be one of them.”
Percy squinted at her. “But you married one of them anyway.”
“Forbes was nothing like them.” She smiled. “He was a good man, quiet and kind.”
“So you say, but how would I know?” Percy complained. “He took you away to marry you, and you never came back till now.”
Kitty had to hide her regret about that. “Are you saying you missed me?”
“Impossible as it seems, yes.” He looked so surprised at that, too.
Kitty sipped her tea and hid her smile. She and her brother had never been outwardly affectionate. It almost hurt to say nice things to each other. “I missed you, too. Not that I will repeat that ever again.”
Percy smiled crookedly. “You must have been really worried about Exeter to come all the way from Ireland.”
“I was worried about my barking mad brother,” Kitty admitted. “If you do not let the matter rest, I swear I will still have you examined for madness.”
Although she uttered that with a humorous tone, she meant it. Percy did not seem deranged at this moment, but only time would tell if anything was really wrong with his mind. Provided he left the Duke of Exeter alone, she would leave him be here, too. She would still make a few discreet inquiries and pay close attention to him during her stay, though. “I am sorry Susanna did not care for you the way you wanted her too, Percy.”
“I loved her,” he insisted with a sigh. “I would have done anything she wanted. I would have run away with her and married her over an anvil, too. I would not have cared if Exeter disapproved and chased us all the way there. He can go to the devil.”
“Susanna would never have done such a thing as marry over an anvil in Gretna Green. She was quite scathing of love matches begun that way. She had been too aware of her family’s importance to risk causing a scandal herself. If she had married you, she would have been unhappy. Is that what you wanted?” She gestured at the room around her. “Would you have had her living like this? Waiting for the next explosion to blow out a window? She was meant for more than this, and you know it. Besides, you were not unhappy with your wife, were you?”
“No. Marianne was a good woman. The best I could hope for. She kept me in line and the house tidy.” Percy subsided, his jaw working. He shook his head suddenly. “What will you do for the rest of your visit? I gather you are too proud to stay here, since I see no luggage.”
“Willa has graciously allowed me to stay with her.”
“Willa again.”
“She is worried about you, too,” Kitty promised. “You do realize that what you put in your letter was quite mad.”
Percy chuckled. “A walnut short of a fruitcake?”
“Something like that.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “You must forget Susanna, and Exeter, too. Promise me you will. If he found out what you accused him of, he would be quite angry with you.”
“Of course I won’t say anything.” Percy smil
ed, and the expression sent a chill through her. “We could not have the distinguished Duke of Exeter upset now, could we?”
“No, we certainly could not.” She poured tea, hoping he understood. “Now tell me more about my niece? I cannot wait to meet the girl.”
Chapter 5
Sinclair slathered butter on his fresh morning bread, frowning out the window of his large and very quiet bedchamber. He had not slept yet. He was still trying to figure out what his encounter with Kitty might signify. He had experienced a definite pull of attraction toward her last night, even before he’d known her identity. But her reappearance had completely thrown him off balance, and he’d spent the night thinking about the past endlessly. He’d lost someone dear to him when she’d married, and he could not stop the endless round of questions, why being the most frequently recurring.
Her return was also the worst timing possible.
How could he concentrate on hunting a bride for Teddy when he might run into her again? He had spent all morning trying to remember who she knew in the city and where they might meet by chance again. If he was not careful, Teddy might notice his distraction, and his heir needed to believe Sinclair’s only care was he at this time.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, striving for calm. Sinclair clearly remembered the day he’d learned Kitty had chosen to marry Lord Forbes, ending their association before he could make it permanent. Susanna had been scathing in her assessment of the match, but he’d been too shocked to pay attention to very much of what she’d said. All he’d known was that Kitty had left the country.
Left him.
Her return unsettled him in the worst way.
Teddy strolled in, his hands full of the day’s mail. “Invitations upon invitations.”
“Charming,” Sinclair said then stuffed the last bit of bread into his mouth.
“You will want to look at this before you go out.” Teddy handed him a note that was not sealed. “Lord Wade sent it last night. The Earl of Acton will marry at last.”