The Wild Card

by Beth Elliott

  So today Kitty was determined to enjoy her few hours of freedom. And she was genuinely excited to be visiting the sights of the great city. Together with Mrs Warrington, they drove first to Westminster Abbey, where they explored the nave and chapels thoroughly, greatly awed to see the tomb of Shakespeare.

  This was followed by visits to St Paul’s Cathedral and the Guildhall, after which all three ladies agreed they would save the British Museum for another time. As they returned along the more modish streets, Amelia described the wonderful creations to be found in the elegant shops she had visited with her mother the previous day. Kitty knew she would never be able to afford such gowns with their bead or floss trimming and lace but still, if she could see them, maybe she could get ideas to embellish some of her own plain dresses.

  She thanked Mrs Warrington for the pleasant outing, and ran up the steps to the waiting Broome. ‘Lady Picton is in the drawing-room, miss,’ announced the butler. ‘She wishes to see you at once.’

  Was it good or bad? wondered Kitty as she made her way upstairs. She wanted to set about writing her letter, while the impressions were still fresh in her mind. Everyone at home would enjoy the account of her day’s excursion. But first, she must see what her aunt wanted.

  She pushed open the door and went into the vast room. Her aunt was sitting in her usual armchair near the fire. To Kitty’s great surprise, there was a gentleman seated opposite her. He turned his head; then, as Kitty came forward, rose to his feet. She was amazed to see that he was a young man, perhaps in his late twenties. A second glance confirmed that he was extremely handsome and well made.

  ‘Mademoiselle.’ His bow was faultless.

  Mechanically, Kitty responded with a slight curtsy. She registered his fashionable appearance. As he looked at her with his lively brown eyes, she suddenly felt shabby in her simple gown. She felt her cheeks reddening and was annoyed with herself for caring. Clothes were not the measure of a person’s worth.

  ‘Pray sit down, both of you,’ commanded Lady Picton. ‘I see I have taken you by surprise, my dear.’ She turned to Kitty, ‘You must know that this young gentleman is Etienne de Saint-Aubin. He is the grandson of my dear schoolfriend, Hortense de Rochefort. And he is kind enough to visit me whenever he comes to town.’ She turned towards Etienne. ‘And this is Miss Katherine Towers, my great-niece, who has come to stay with me.’

  Etienne stood up again and came to grasp Kitty’s hand warmly. ‘It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Towers.’ He looked appreciatively at her face and smiled again. Kitty could not help feeling flattered. She smiled back, hoping that her cheeks were not too red. Then she turned her attention to her aunt. Lady Picton looked far more animated than Kitty had yet seen her.

  Sitting down once more, the young Frenchman resumed his conversation with Lady Picton. Kitty took the chance to examine his classically beautiful face and smoothly brushed dark hair. His voice was pleasant, with just a trace of a foreign accent. She was delighted to find that such a personable young man was a frequent visitor in her aunt’s house. That certainly promised to liven the place up.

  Etienne had plenty of stories and items of gossip to tell and kept Lady Picton highly amused. Kitty was surprised to find how quickly the half-hour went past. Etienne rose to his feet and bowed himself out, expressing the hope that they would soon meet again.

  Lady Picton surveyed her niece with a satisfied smile. ‘I’ll wager you found him a good-looking young man.’

  ‘Indeed, ma’am. He has a very striking appearance and in addition, he is so smartly dressed.’

  ‘Always.…’ Her sharp gaze ran over Kitty. ‘I was much impressed by your little friend’s beauty and her style. Her mother obviously has excellent taste. That blue coat was superb – and the swansdown muff.…’ She nodded and clasped her hands over the ivory head of her walking cane.

  There was a long pause. Kitty waited, her eyes wary.

  ‘The pair of you look very attractive together … but you must accept what I am saying, my dear Kitty, as I know the world far better than you do – there is a big difference in the presentation.’

  ‘Amelia is far too good a friend to mind my clothes.’

  ‘That is to her credit, but society will judge you on your appearance.’

  Kitty flushed. ‘That is v-very shallow and I have no patience with such things.’ Her voice shook. With an effort she bit back the hot words. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am, but that is what I think.’ She cast a burning look at the old lady, who remained calm, watching her carefully.

  ‘You yourself have just commented on Etienne’s fashionable dress. There is no doubt that fine feathers make fine birds.’

  The angry reply died on Kitty’s lips. Indeed, she had felt shabby just now when she saw his elegant appearance. She realized that smart clothes did indeed convey a message. But now her feeling of humiliation grew. She could not afford to buy new dresses.

  Her aunt nodded. ‘I think you are sensible enough to understand what I am saying. Now then, child, I would not bring this subject up if I did not plan to do something about it. It vexed me very much to see you set off on your trip today at such a disadvantage.’

  She rose painfully, leaning heavily on her cane. ‘I declare, the idea of a shopping expedition is most entertaining. We shall take Miss Dilworth with us.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  That night, Kitty dreamed of new dresses and bonnets. She smiled in her sleep and woke with an unusual feeling of pleasure, knowing she was going to have some really fashionable clothes. But before she even opened her eyes, she felt that something was wrong. There was the sound of shovelling and brushing as the housemaid cleaned away the ashes and made up a new fire in the grate.

  Kitty listened and frowned. Surely she could hear crying in among the other slight noises. Quietly, she raised her head. She saw a small figure, hunched over the grate, a hand pressed to her lips as she tried to stifle her sobs. Kitty sprang out of bed and knelt down beside the weeping girl.

  The maid gasped in dismay. She shrank back from Kitty, rubbing a hand across her eyes.

  ‘Whatever is wrong? Are you ill?’ asked Kitty gently. ‘Come now, do not be afraid.’

  ‘Sorry, miss, fer disturbin’ you,’ whispered the girl, ‘I won’t be long gettin’ this fire to light.’ She fumbled with the coals. Another tear ran down her cheek.

  ‘What is your name?’

  The maid looked terrified. ‘Oh please, miss, you ain’t gonna tell the ’ousekeeper on me. I’ll get the fire goin’ in a moment.’

  Kitty put a hand on the thin shoulder. ‘Of course I will not say anything to anyone. Just tell me your name. I want to help you.’

  The grey eyes widened. ‘Why?’

  Kitty smiled. ‘I cannot see you in such distress. Are you unwell? Do you have the toothache?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘No, miss. It’s me little brother, Sam. ’E’s terrible poorly with a fever.’ She choked back another sob.

  ‘And can your parents not take him to the hospital? But you still have not told me your name?’

  ‘It’s Martha, if you please, miss – an’ no, me dad’s gone fer a soldier an’ me mam ’as no money.’

  ‘Very well, Martha, I will help you.’

  Martha stared at her in disbelief. She shook her head. ‘You can’t,’ she said with conviction. ‘I ’as to work ’ere an’ you can’t get to my ’ome.’

  ‘Oh, I think I can see how to organize that,’ replied Kitty cheerfully. ‘When I go out, I need a maid to accompany me. I shall ask my aunt if you may go with me. Everyone else is so old, they find it difficult to walk very far.’ She gave a little laugh. After a moment Martha smiled back at her. ‘So that is agreed,’ said Kitty. ‘Do not cry any more. It will take a day or two to arrange but I promise you we will go to your home and help your brother.’

  Martha could not say a word but her face shone with new hope.

  At the start of the shopping expedition Kitty felt very uncomforta
ble. She was torn between the embarrassment of accepting this generosity from her aunt and the dread that any clothes chosen for her would be hopelessly old-fashioned and make her plight even worse.

  On first entering Madame Louise’s boutique, Kitty’s heart sank because this lady also looked rather stricken in years. However, she quickly noticed that the balldresses on display in the showroom were extremely elegant. Kitty stared in awe at them while her aunt and Miss Dilworth held a long conversation with Madame Louise.

  Kitty was then ordered to parade up and down in an endless selection of coats before all three ladies exclaimed at the bottle-green pelisse.

  ‘Ravissante!’ exclaimed Madame, ‘but it needs a dress also in green.’ She beckoned an assistant forward, and selected a pale-green cambric gown, which, they all agreed, completed the outfit to perfection. Lady Picton appeared to be enjoying herself even more than Kitty, who, to her own dismay, had soon suppressed her usual opinion concerning the vanity of expensive clothes.

  Her embarrassment returned, however, when, instead of going home, her aunt ordered the coachman to take them to a milliner’s shop. Kitty felt she had tried on every bonnet in the shop before her aunt and Miss Dilworth were satisfied they had chosen the most becoming hat and muff to match her new coat.

  During the journey back to Grosvenor Square, Miss Dilworth offered to run up a couple of gowns from lengths of material stored in the house. ‘It will be a pleasure to put them to good use, my lady,’ she assured her mistress. ‘I know we have a bale of primrose-yellow silk, which will suit Miss Kitty very well – and there is also some checked muslin for morning dresses.’

  ‘Such excitement!’ exclaimed Lady Picton, when Kitty had helped her back into the house and she was settled in her favourite armchair. ‘This is a welcome change from our usual routine, and I sense that the staff want to play their part in turning you into one of this year’s most fashionable young ladies.’ She took a sip of sherry and added, ‘If young Etienne can be modish – and on his tiny income, my dear – so can you.’

  ‘How does a Frenchman come to be in London at this time of war between our two countries, ma’am?’

  ‘His family were émigrés, my dear. They lost everything during that awful revolution. His parents had to leave all their estates and possessions behind. I fancy they have led a wandering existence between here and Holland over the last twenty years.’

  That evening she sent for Kitty to come to her dressing-room. Kitty had just tried out a new hairstyle, combing her hair back, with a few curls allowed to fall over her ears, then sweeping the rest into a knot on the top of her head. Lady Picton considered the effect and nodded.

  ‘Excellent! You have achieved the current fashion and it suits you well. Now then, what jewels do you have?’

  ‘I have a coral necklace, ma’am. Or else I use a knot or two of ribbon.’

  ‘Very becoming, but I think you need a little more than that.’ She opened a massive jewellery box on the table beside her and fumbled in it with her rheumaticky fingers. ‘Now, let me see… Sir Geoffrey was always most lavish in his gifts. But heaven knows, it is long enough since I’ve worn any of ’em. The only parties I attend are card parties.’ She looked up at Kitty’s horrified face. ‘It’s all right, girl, they are only for you to wear while you are here,’ She picked up and discarded a number of heavy, old-fashioned brooches and collars.

  ‘Ah, here it is.’ She pulled out a small bag and put it in Kitty’s hand. ‘Put ’em on.’

  Kitty clasped the pearl necklet round her throat and peeped in the mirror. ‘Oh, Aunt, how pretty they are.’ She turned her head, admiring the lustre. ‘Oh, thank you – I promise you I shall take great care of them.’ Impulsively, she bent and kissed the old lady’s cheek.

  ‘There, there,’ said Lady Picton, blinking rapidly. ‘Just the thing for a girl to wear. And now you have arranged your hair into this new-fangled style, you are beginning to look smart.’

  Kitty tied the strings of her new bonnet under her chin. She looked at her reflection in the long mirror. Her eyes sparkled back at her and she could not resist a smile of pleasure. Surely M de Saint-Aubin would find her sufficiently modish in this outfit. The bottle-green cloth pelisse with its black braid trimming fitted her tall figure perfectly.

  ‘Well,’ she told her reflection, ‘I hope I am smart enough to impress Monsieur de Saint-Aubin. I saw him sizing up my dress when he was introduced to me. For all my ideas on valuing the inner worth of a person, I am being influenced by this fashionable world.’

  She wrinkled her nose over the dilemma. But it was time to join her aunt for a drive to Hyde Park. They were soon seated in the landaulet, which was drawn by a matched pair of horses. Kitty wondered if they were also elderly. She noticed that the rather portly coachman had grey hair.

  As the coach set off at a sedate pace, Kitty said impulsively, ‘You are being very kind to me, Aunt. I do hope this is not too fatiguing for you.’

  ‘Nonsense, child. I frequently go out to take the air or to visit friends. This is a luxury for me to have company. It has been a long lonely time since your great-uncle died – we never had any children. If only your mother—’ She broke off and then added quicly, ‘The house is far too quiet. Does us good to bestir ourselves.’

  If only my mother – what? Kitty longed to ask but did not feel she knew her aunt well enough yet. But she took comfort from the knowledge that her aunt had definitely warmed to her over the past few days.

  They now turned into the park and the coach slowed down to a crawl.

  ‘It seems as if all of London is here.’ Kitty’s gaze wandered over the throng of people walking or on horseback, all mingling and exchanging greetings and gossip with each other and with the occupants of the many coaches.

  ‘This is where you have to be seen, girl, if you want an entrée into society.’

  They had made only one turn around the carriageway when Kitty spotted Amelia. She was riding in a phaeton driven by a very fashionable lady. Kitty waved and the two carriages drew to a halt abreast of each other.

  ‘How very smart you are, Kitty,’ said Amelia, but Kitty was staring at her companion.

  ‘Caroline!’ Kitty saw at one glance that Freddy’s older sister was dressed in the height of fashion. Her braided pelisse of light-brown velvet enhanced her guinea gold hair, elaborately curled under a dashing hat with ostrich plumes clustering round the brim.

  Lady Caroline Bannister inclined her head to Lady Picton, then turned her gaze to Kitty. She smiled. ‘So in the end, you gave in to the lure of London, Kitty. What was it you used to say about more worthwhile causes?’ She took in the new green pelisse and bonnet as she smiled teasingly at her young friend.

  Kitty decided to ignore this comment. ‘Oh, it is good to see you, Caroline. You look well – and so smart.’

  Caroline raised her delicate brows. ‘Of course, I am always in the latest mode. And you see I have persuaded Millie to join me, so she can make some new acquaintances.’ She looked back at Lady Picton. ‘It would give me great pleasure, ma’am, if you and Kitty would join my dancing party on Thursday next.’

  Lady Picton looked pleased. ‘Why thank you. For myself, I do not go out to evening events any more, but if Miss Warrington’s mother will chaperone Kitty, she may attend.’

  Everyone was pleased with this arrangement. They were just bidding each other farewell when a smartly dressed young man approached Caroline’s phaeton, raising his hat with a decided flourish.

  ‘Why, Etienne!’ Kitty noticed that Caroline looked very pleased to see him. ‘I thought you were out of town.’

  ‘I was, but am so glad to be back.’ he said with an expressive look. He now registered the occupants of the other carriage and bowed with exquisite courtesy to Lady Picton. Kitty had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen, then gleam with appreciation as he took in her new finery. He liked it. She would not give up her principles, but at this moment it was important to be able to compete with Millie an
d Caroline. She felt a rush of gratitude to her aunt.

  Etienne came over to take her hand and kiss it. Amazing, decided Kitty, what a smart new bonnet could do. Before he could speak, Caroline was inviting him to her soiree. When he accepted, Kitty’s happiness was complete.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘Deuce take it, Weston! That is the fifth wafer you have hit in a row. Are you practising for a duel?’

  Theo looked up from inspecting his silver-mounted pistol. There was a gleam in his blue eyes. ‘If you are offering me one, Johnny.…’

  ‘Oh not I, not I,’ spluttered Mr John Denton, his pale-blue eyes bulging with horror. ‘No match for you, assure you. Just fascinated, watching you demolish those wafers.’

  By now, Theo had reloaded. He aimed again and hit the sixth wafer.

  ‘It is no use to be a soldier if you are not able to hit your target,’ he remarked, turning away from the shooting range. He sighed. His leg was still damnably sore and stiff after the fall from Nimrod on the ice. Impatiently, he dragged himself back towards the bench and sat down.

  Another young man stepped forward to the stand, ready to shoot. Theo watched in silence for a few minutes as the newcomer fired several shots. Somewhat to his surprise, Johnny Denton sat down beside him.

  ‘He is not in your league either,’ remarked Johnny, nodding towards the red-faced young man, who had not yet hit a wafer. ‘In fact, you are one of the best. Good job too,’ he added darkly, ‘if all they say about you is true.’

  Theo glanced at him frowningly. ‘What do they say?’

  Under that stare, Johnny drew back a fraction. ‘Oh,’ he stammered, ‘it is well known that you are quite a wild blade – and the ladies all mad for you.’ He coughed, ‘Fact is, they are all in a twitter now word has gone round that you are back in town.’