by Claudy Conn
“Indeed, my lord.” Nanny’s gaze shot to his face worriedly. “From the moment she was born. I have been her nanny … and I suppose I am still as ’tis what Kitty has always called me.” She chewed her lip nervously.
He had the impression that she wanted to say more but held her tongue. He smiled and attempted to calm her by sticking to a safe topic. “Ah, Kitty is it?” He thought, With sharp claws. He got to his feet before she could answer and asked gently, “Shall I pour you a little madeira while I pour myself a brandy?”
Nanny eyed him nervously, and he coaxed her, saying, “It will do you good, Miss Diddles. I fear we got off to a halting beginning, but, let’s you and I change all that with a little libation, shall we?”
She smiled tentatively and answered, “I rarely indulge, but, yes, I think that would be most pleasant.”
He poured her a glass and handed it to her before pouring himself a bit of brandy and toasting, “Drink hardy, Miss Diddles. I know this unusual situation has us all a bit overset. That is understandable, but I do think we shall muddle through right and tight.”
He saw her visibly relax at his words, and as she sipped her drink and he sipped his, he wondered how far from the truth he had actually spoken. Somehow, he had become the caretaker of a wild and rude young woman.
* * *
Even as she had a bath drawn for his lordship and hot water brought to her basin, Kitty stomped around in a temper. She washed with the hot water, soaped herself, and rinsed with fresh hot water. She brushed her golden locks until they did, in fact, shine in luxurious waves around her face and down her back, where they swayed against her waist.
She donned the day gown Nanny liked so much. It was old. She hadn’t bought anything new in ages. This one was especially tight around the bodice, which was too high to be fashionable and made her look like a schoolgirl. She clucked at her reflection. She wanted this earl to take her seriously, but how could he if every time he saw her she was either dressed like a dirty boy or a silly schoolgirl?
She stared at herself in the long glass and sighed. Nothing about her said ‘woman’.
She hadn’t really looked at herself in so long. A woman should have looked back at her, but instead she was, even in a gown, nothing more than a hoyden.
A footman knocked at her door, and she opened it. The older man said, “His lordship’s bath should be ready in about ten minutes, miss.”
“Thanks, Gromley. I shall go and tell the insufferable—” She cut herself off, “Indeed, thank you for all your trouble. I shall go and tell him,” Kitty answered.
He smiled and added, “Seeing as I watched ye grow up, I don’t think it would be too forward of me to tell ye, well, ye look beautiful, miss.”
She smiled at that, and for a moment her temper vanished. “Oh, dear Gromley, thank you.”
She braced herself then and left the safety of her bedroom behind, thinking if the earl had made her Nanny uncomfortable in any way, she would shoot him dead!
~ Ten ~
BY DINNER, KITTY was in a temper the likes of which she had not suffered in ages. Each time his lordship opened his mouth, it was to say something she thought odious. She retaliated in kind, and the two would end at an impasse.
He had one, only one redeeming quality, she told herself. He was kind and respectful to Nanny.
Before going to dinner, she had changed her gown and surveyed herself in the oak-framed looking glass in her bedroom.
Her image frowned back at her. Oh, her hair looked neatly brushed, but it hung about her shoulders like a schoolgirl’s. It wanted styling. And her gown, this was no better than the green gown she had worn earlier that day.
Nanny tied a matching blue ribbon in her hair, and she pulled at the wispy bangs over Kitty’s forehead.
“Perhaps I should wear it up?”
“What? Now? Not suitable, my dear,” Nanny answered.
“Why not? I am nearly one and twenty.”
“But, ’tis only a simple country dinner with no one but the earl dining with us,” Nanny answered, surprise opening her eyes wide.
Kitty studied her gown. It was a simple creation of blue muslin, dotted throughout with soft white. Its neckline was too high to be thought provocative, and it was trimmed with a simple white lace fringe. The same lace trimmed the tightly fitted sleeves at their cuffs.
The gown’s fitted waist, did however, display her slender figure to advantage, as it was accentuated with a wide band of blue satin. Her slippers were made of the same blue satin and covered her feet in a dainty fashion, but looking at herself, she felt a dowd. It occurred to her that if London and the beau monde were her destination, then she would take them on, and this, she was fairly certain, was not the image she meant to present.
“Nanny, this sort of gown will never do. I know we are only having a simple country dinner, but … it is … so …”
“Wrong, I know, dear, but what is to be done?”
“Well, I was with Henrietta last year when I purchased it, and then I thought it very fine, but she did not. Henrietta has already suffered a London Season, so I think, yes, I do believe she was in the right of it. So what is to be done? I don’t know, but something.”
Nanny sniffed. “And still, what is to be done at this late hour? And besides, you do look fetching, as you would in almost anything.”
“Thank you, Nanny,” she said but then pursed her lips and continued to stare at her reflection. “Well, as simply fetching is not what I am looking to achieve when in London—we must get the hang of this fashion thing. I want … stunning. Do you know why?” She proceeded to answer her own question. “Because if the earl is an example of the sort of people who are part of the beau monde set, well, if I turn out in something like this they will eat me up and spit me out, and I shall feel a fool.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “I don’t think they could break me, but I don’t want to be anyone other than who I am … and they could hurt me. So, if fashion means so much to them, then I shall learn the knack of it.”
“Spit you out?” Nanny was astonished. “What kind of talk is that? Kitty, you must learn to watch your tongue, and as to breaking your spirit?” She shook her head. “No one, I am quite certain, could ever do that. You would simply pick yourself up and brush yourself off. ’Tis what you always do.”
Kitty smiled. “I adore you, Nanny.” She grimaced as a thought settled in her head. “However, if they are all like the earl … oh my, I just might never take, even if I manage to dress well. He dislikes me I think even more than I dislike him.”
“The thing is, it was so unfortunate that he happened in on you while you were wearing those dreadful clothes, and then he set up your back with his remarks … and, oh my.” A long sigh escaped Nanny’s lips. “But, for my part, I have found him all that is gentlemanly and kind.”
“Did you?” Kitty’s eyes opened wide. “But, Nanny, he is so rude and arrogant. Also, I think he is conceited. He seems to think a great deal about himself and looks to me as though he is heartily bored with everything. Besides that, I am fairly certain he is something of a libertine!”
“Oh, my dear,” Nanny objected. “That can’t be true. Your guardian would not have put you in his care … if that were true.”
Kitty considered this for a moment. “Well, Uncle had not seen him in many years …?”
“Come, child. We are going to be late for dinner, and that would never do on his first night here,” Nanny said, standing up.
Kitty smiled and took her hand. “Indeed, and I am sorry if I worried you. I should not have done so.”
Nanny patted her hand and smiled but offered no further comment on the subject, and Kitty did wonder how it was the earl had won her dear Nanny over so quickly. As a rule, Nanny did not take to strangers.
* * *
The earl had bathed and changed into a very fine blue cutaway coat with a pale blue embroidered white waistcoat. His breeches were caramel in color and his boots, a highly polished dark brown. He tied his cr
avat intricately in the manner the Beau had recently taught him and grinned at himself. What was he doing?
He undid the cravat and adopted a more casual knot. He eyed his reflection and arched a brow with his thoughts. His ensemble had come from a tailor of the first stare, one that he would soon be able to afford. That thought slightly lifted his dampened spirits, and he gave himself one more glance. Nothing about the dandy in him, of that he was certain.
His shoulders were broad, his height mountainous, and he had a generally athletic build. He eyed his black hair, which fell negligently over his forehead and ears and was cropped at his neckline. Fine. Perhaps little miss hoyden would learn by example how one presented oneself to the world—with style!
He made his way to the library and there poured himself another snifter of brandy. As he stood slowly sipping the brew, he thought of Kitty and could not help smiling.
She had come down in her schoolgirl gown for tea earlier that afternoon, her hair a gorgeous array of golden silk around her quite extraordinarily lovely face, and stood ready to take him on. He had seen the fire in her green eyes, ever ready to deal word for word, and he had been amused.
He had, for a moment, been speechless.
To say that her beauty was riveting would not have been enough.
To say that her eyes could slay a man was an understatement.
She was exquisite, with her cheeks rosy and her liveliness every ready.
Although she was not tall, her stature was regal, and he had to admit that, when she wanted to, she certainly knew just how to conduct herself. She had taken her seat and served the tea like a seasoned London hostess, dispensing perfect commonplaces in the way of easy conversation. He had been more than taken aback.
And then he’d pinched her ire when he made the mistake of saying, “Well, I have to admit that I am surprised.”
“Surprised at what?” Her green eyes flashed at him.
“Er … well, what I meant was …” He realized the mistake but was not able to extricate himself.
“That you thought me a hoyden simply because we met while I was in britches?” Her brow was up. “That you thought I was not capable of dressing and carrying myself well?”
“Serve his lordship one of Cook’s little small cakes. He will like that,” Nanny had interjected.
“Yes, do serve me a small cake,” he had told her and couldn’t stop the appreciative grin from spreading his lips wide.
“Oh, yes, of course, my lord,” she said between gritted teeth and did just that. “How remiss of me.”
They did not speak for some moments, and when they did speak, each spoke only to poor Nanny, who sat clearly uncomfortable throughout the ordeal. Finally, Withers had appeared and said that his lordship’s barouche and valet had arrived, and he excused himself to attend to his people and his things.
Now, rested, bathed, and ready, he would have to suffer dinner with the chit. Why a part of him was looking forward to it, he could not say. Perhaps because she was a challenge. He so loved a challenge.
He had partially closed the library doors when he had entered a few moments before and looked up when he heard it open to find Miss Diddles gingerly stepping through, closely followed by Miss Kingsley.
His breath caught in his throat. She was stunning. Even in a gown that was no more than passable, she was absolutely a goddess. Her green eyes flashed at him defiantly, no doubt waiting for some criticism, but he couldn’t even speak, let alone find fault.
Her figure drew on the man in him, and he found it difficult not to stare at her lovely, full breasts and the curve of her hips. He forced his eyes up but discovered luscious lips … further up to her eyes, and those eyes looked back directly into his. Their gazes locked, and she said, “Oh, but, my lord, you have such deep blue eyes.”
He was surprised into answering, “Do you think so?”
“I daresay you have been told that before,” she said and looked away as though realizing her forwardness.
He felt a shock wave of sensation rush through his blood. She was absolutely tantalizing. The way she moved, the way she smiled, the way her green eyes sparkled, so alive with mischief and yet uncertainty. She would take London by storm and slay every man that looked into her eyes.
He looked away and greeted Nanny sweetly, pleased to note that she seemed perfectly comfortable in his company. “Nanny,” he said and attempted to ignore Miss Kingsley. “May I say you look lovely this evening?”
Nanny’s hand fluttered in the air. “Nonsense.”
He turned back to Miss Kingsley and held his brandy to her as though in a toast. “Well then, Miss Kingsley.”
“Well then, what?” Kitty’s eyes narrowed.
“Better, my dear, much better.”
* * *
The inference was clear to Kitty. His words stung sharply, for she did not take it as a compliment. A small voice in her head tried to reason with her and tell her he meant it as a compliment, but all she heard were the words, and they bit through her flesh. Better? Is that all? After she struggled and primped—better? She didn’t approve of her gown and knew it was nothing special, but, still, she felt he could have paid her a bit more flattery.
Her chin went up, and quietly, so quietly, she answered, “Ah, no doubt, this is high praise, indeed, from a London dandy!”
Nanny nearly swooned and did in fact gasp and exclaim, “Christina!”
The earl seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, and Kitty felt the blush rise to her cheeks. She was fairly certain no one had ever dubbed him a dandy, and she knew, of course, that he was not. He was what the men of his set would call a Corinthian—a sporting man—a top sawyer, but never a dandy.
He made a quick recovery, however, and said, “As it happens, I don’t suppose you would have had that high praise from a London dandy, Miss Kingsley. From me, however, it was no more, no less than what it was. I meant only that you look better out of your dirt.”
She felt his scrutiny and met his gaze. She didn’t know why he so rubbed her wrong, but he did. She inclined her head. “Thank you, my lord. Why I should think it was not high praise eludes me,” she said sarcastically.
To be fair to the man, she had been nothing more than a rough and ready urchin earlier. No doubt he had wondered how he could present such a girl. She had not looked much better in her schoolgirl gown and had hoped that although her present gown was not up to London standards it would draw more of a compliment than better.
Her temper had been stirred, but it was not yet bubbling.
“You are quite welcome.”
“So, tell me, I look better, but not quite to your sophisticated tastes?” She pursued the matter.
“My tastes have naught to do with it. However …” He inclined his handsome head and gave her a gentle smile that almost, not quite but almost, won an answering smile from her. “If you wish to feel comfortable amongst your own while in London and enjoy a successful Season, we will have to see to your wardrobe.”
This was precisely what Kitty had been telling Nanny earlier, but hearing the words out of this handsome buck’s mouth was most offensive. She was a proud young woman who had not hitherto been questioned about her style. This was all very agitating.
She snapped her fingers in the air before she knew what she was doing, and though she saw Nanny close her eyes, she said in a tone sharper than she had intended, “I don’t give a fig about fashions, and I don’t give a fig about a successful London Season.” She knew that this was, in part, not at all true. She needed to make her way in the world, as everything she had ever known had been taken away from her. Her hands were now on her hips, and that same little voice in her head warned that she was heading for trouble.
“Well, that may be for now, but I advise you to care, my girl, care a great deal,” the earl snapped, his patience evidently at an end. “As it happens, we are both bound by your guardian’s will. We may not like one another, but I am at present acting as your guardian and shall discharge my
duty, which at present is to see you through a London Season and respectably wed!” By the time the earl had reached the last word in his diatribe he appeared to be seething.
“You!” Kitty was breathless. He had openly admitted to not liking her. Suspecting that he did not like her and hearing the words were two very different matters. That temper began to bubble. Her hand moved to forestall Nanny, who was mumbling something at her back. “Are not my guardian. You were not named so by my Uncle Edwin’s will.”
“Am I not? Well then, I shall have to do something about that, shan’t I? Tomorrow, I will pay a visit to Mr. Harkins and see what can be done. For the present, I suggest we drop the subject, as I see Withers has just arrived and no doubt wishes to take us into the dining room for our dinner.” He put down his glass of brandy with a flourish and politely put out his arm for Nanny’s hand.
This flustered Nanny, but he said softly, “Don’t fret this little scene, Nanny dear. She is high-spirited and speaks before she thinks, and unfortunately I have a bit of a temper myself. Eventually she and I will find common ground, if only to please you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Nanny said, her eyes warm on his face. “Thank you, so much.” They watched Kitty march off ahead of them, and Nanny hesitated and then added, “She is all heart, you know, and that heart leads her to speak before she thinks. I know she is head-strong, but she is ever so dear … I can’t imagine why she is so angry with you.”
“Well, for one thing, I imagine she sees me as an interloper. I have usurped, or will be usurping, her home and taking on a role she believes belongs to no one but her late guardian, my uncle,” he said thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Nanny agreed, “but I don’t think it is that. There is more to it, but I can’t quite see what that is yet.”
~ Eleven ~
HENRIETTA HARKINS SAT alone in her mother’s brightly papered morning room, contentedly sipping her coffee. She had been reading a volume of Lord Byron’s work and pensively wondering about the poet whom she had seen during her last London Season. The rumor was he was having an illicit affair with his half-sister, Augusta.