Both girls were left with their mouths open.
Julia had invited a crush of her friends, and all Jeffrey's relatives were there. Kitty was deluged with invitations to dance and the moment the music stopped she was surrounded by men. Her eyes often sought out Patrick, who was never at a loss for female admirers. The young ones hung about him, giving him shy glances and blushing furiously when he spoke, but the older, married women vied with each other for his attention. They sent him bold invitations with their eyes and bodies and didn't even bother to conceal their blatant desire.
Kitty sought out Terrance, who had just danced with Barbara.
"What's wrong, Kitty?" he asked.
"Oh, it's just awful. I'm going to stay close by you two. You have no idea what the men here are like."
"Who? That fellow you were dancing with? What the devil did he do?"
"He kept trying to kiss me," she said indignantly.
"I'll just go and have a little word with him," said Terry angrily.
"Oh, no, don't. It wasn't just him. The last one danced me behind those potted ferns and put his hand down my bodice."
"Right here in front of everyone?" asked Barbara, scandalized.
Just then a small woman approached Barbara with a young man in tow. "There you are, Barbara, dear. Do you remember me from the wedding? I'm Amelia Brownlow, Jeffrey's cousin, and this is my son, Simon. I've been simply dying to introduce you two. Simon, this is Julia's sister, whom I've been telling you about."
The fair young man with lazy eyes smiled and bowed before Barbara. "My pleasure, ma'am."
Amelia looked pleased with herself and said, "Well, I'll leave you young people to enjoy yourselves. Have fun!"
Simon looked amused. "Mothers! Thank heavens she's gone. Please forgive her. She's bent on matchmaking, I'm afraid." He looked at Kitty and Terrance standing together. "You must be brother and sister. The resemblance is most striking. "
Barbara said, "Kitty and Terrance Rooney, our cousins from Ireland." He bowed before Kitty. "May I have this dance, ma' am?"
Kitty did not hesitate. He was only about eighteen and she thought she would be able to handle someone her own age.
"To tell you the truth, we were just going to find a quieter room somewhere. We really aren't enjoying ourselves in this crush."
"My sentiments exactly! Why don't we get some refreshments from the supper room and retire to a quiet spot, the library perhaps, and have a party of our own?" His smile was so disarming, they fell in with his suggestions immediately. They piled their plates high with an assortment of delicacies and each took a cup of punch and went down the east wing to the library.
Simon spotted a decanter of brandy and brought it to the fire. "This will taste better than that awful concoction they call punch!" Simon saluted Kitty with his glass. "You are a very refreshing change from the young women my mother usually introduces me to. They all say something very witty such as 'Shouldn't you be in school somewhere?' "
"Well, shouldn't you?" said Kitty, laughing. "Sent down from Oxford, I'm afraid."
"We've just been expelled from school ourselves," said Barbara with a laugh.
"Good! I can see we have a lot in common."
"What do you do now that your school days are over?" asked Kitty.
"Amuse myself, and others too, I might add. I think I shall make a career of it. "
"Are you independently wealthy, then?" asked Kitty.
"Not exactly rolling in it, but I'm just marking my time until my uncle, Lord Crowther, sticks his spoon in the wall. Then I'll inherit the fortune and the title," he said and smiled.
"How convenient for you," said Kitty, amused. "So your mother isn't in the market for an heiress for you."
"No, but she is trying to get me married off. Says a wife is exactly what I need to settle me down a bit."
"Surely you don't want a wife at your age?" asked Terry.
"What I want is freedom, but I'll never have it until I get rid of Mother."
"But if you married you'd have two women running your life instead of just your mother," pointed out Terry.
"Oh, no; once she fobs me off with a wife, she's bound for Europe. Can't wait to fold her tent and silently steal away," said Simon, laughing. Simon looked at Terrance and then at Kitty. "I don't suppose you'd like to take me on? You are in the marriage market, aren't you?"
"Of course she is," said Barbara.
"I've no dowry. I'm just a poor relation," said Kitty with a laugh.
"Your face is your fortune. You attract men like a flame attracts moths. It comes naturally to you," smiled Simon.
Kitty blushed and drank her brandy to cover her embarrassment.
"Will you come out with me tomorrow, Kit?" Simon asked abruptly.
Terry spoke up. "She doesn't go out alone."
"Well, let's all four of us go somewhere, then."
"Oh, let's go, Terry. It would be great fun. What will we do?" asked Barbara.
Simon eyed Terry for a minute, then suggested, "We could go to Tattersall's and look at the horses."
Kitty said, "That was a shrewd hit, purposely designed to get Terry on your side."
Simon grinned and said, "Now something to amuse the ladies. Let's see. There's a spot up the river that is frozen where people are skating. There's all sorts of booths set up, chestnut sellers and fortune tellers."
"Oh, yes, please," begged Barbara.
The brandy was going to their heads and Kitty said, laughing, "You do exactly what I do, Simon."
"What's that, Kit?" he drawled.
"Plant seeds in people's minds and watch them flower." He gave her a knowing wink.
"Kitty, tell our fortunes now," Barbara begged.
"I thought we were going to get our fortunes told tomorrow, down by the river," protested Kitty, but she felt in her pocket and pulled out her tarot cards, which she had been consulting earlier in the day. "I'll do Barbara and Simon. Terry doesn't like them," offered Kitty.
"What do I do?" asked Barbara.
“Shuffle the cards and while you are doing it, make a wish and also ask a silent question which can be answered 'yes' or 'no.' Now divide them into three piles with your left hand and choose one of the piles."
Barbara picked the one in the center.
"I'll do the wheel of fortune, so place seven cards in a circle. Let me explain a little," Kitty said, knowing that Barbara loved this ritual. "These cards tell about life and death, good and evil, love and hate, strength and folly, success and failure, truth and falsehood; the whole of human experience. The cups represent love, the pentacles represent money, the wands refer to your work, and swords are the unlucky suit."
Barbara solemnly laid out the cards.
Kitty turned all seven face up before she began the reading. "Oh, Barbara, your cards are good. I can tell you right away that the answer to your question is 'yes' and you definitely will get your wish. The first card, strength, represents you, yourself. It shows a woman closing the jaws of a lion. The symbolism means that true strength lies in gentleness. You have a spiritual power that is stronger than material power. The second card, the king of swords, stands very close to you. It represents an overly stern father who inflicts verbal abuse on his children. The next card, the six of wands, means the triumphant resolution of all your difficulties. Eventually you will realize your hopes and desires by utilizing your quiet strength. The seven of pentacles is the fate or luck card. With the two of cups following, it means you will be lucky in love rather than in games of chance. The two of cups, which shows a young man and a young woman holding a loving cup, is the beginning of a romance or flirtation. It is also a time card; your wish will come true within a two. It could mean two weeks, two months or even two years. The knight of wands always has dark hair and dark eyes. He is the romantic knight in shining armor who will come into your life. Your last card, the sun, is a wonderful card filled with joy. It shows you have a sunny disposition and when combined with cups and pentacles means the beginn
ing of a long-lasting relationship."
"Oh, Kitty, you're wonderful," said Barbara, laughing.
Simon picked up the cards and reshuffled them. "God, I hope mine aren't all sweetness and light," he teased.
Kitty frowned as she turned Simon's cards face up. She didn't like them. "The answer to your silent question is 'no'; however, you will get your wish. The card that represents you is the knight of swords. An aggressive young man, headstrong, reckless, self-destructive, quick to take offense. This is followed by the chariot, which usually is a good card, but when it is reversed like this, it means self-indulgence, dissipation of energies. It also hints that perhaps soon there will be a scandal."
"Ah, the plot thickens," said Simon, laughing.
"Your third card is the hanged man. It shows a young man hanging upside down from a cross. Notice that he is neither nailed nor tied to the cross, so he can free himself at any time and straighten out if he really wants to. This is followed by the seven of wands. All sevens imply change. Social matters are disrupting your homelife. The four of cups means you have lots of friends, many parties, drinking and good times."
"Ah, better and better," said Simon with a grin.
"The ten of swords has many meanings," said Kitty. "What an awful card-the poor man has ten swords stuck into his back," said Barbara.
"It's not always a death card," assured Kitty. "It can mean the dark arts, the underworld. When coupled with the hanged man it means you have gotten so deeply involved in wrong activities you cannot find your way out. The devil means more self-indulgence and being chained by materialistic values. Your possessions can come to possess you if you put money before people."
"My character is laid bare!" grimaced Simon.
The library door opened and Patrick came in with a married woman. "Sorry, we thought this room would be empty," Patrick apologized.
"That's obvious," said Kitty stiffly. "Simon, I should be delighted to go with you tomorrow. Shall we go back to the party now and leave these older people to themselves?" Kitty asked tartly.
Barbara and Kitty were sharing a room and when they were in bed, Kitty asked, "Who was that with Patrick tonight?"
"Just one of his flirts, I imagine. Probably sowing the last of his wild oats before he settles down," she said, giggling.
Kitty caught her breath. "What do you mean?"
"Well, nothing's been said, of course, but I think he has his eye on Samuel Haynsworth's daughter, Grace."
"What makes you think that, Barbara?"
"Fabulous dowry, bleachworks and all that, she's wallowing in it," Barbara said and yawned.
"I should have thought he'd prefer someone prettier than Grace Haynsworth," said Kitty in a small voice.
"And I thought I was naive! Patrick will always have a pretty face tucked away somewhere. Marriage won't put a cramp in his style."
Try as she might, Kitty was unable to fall asleep as she thought about what Barbara had told her. Kitty prayed silently, Help me to get over this terrible hurt . . . help me to stop loving him.
Chapter 13
When Patrick arrived at Cadogen Square
for the third consecutive evening at the same time as Simon, Kitty, Terry and Barbara, he shouted at Julia, "For God's sake, they're like two pairs of Siamese twins! Don't you think Barbara's becoming too serious about this Simon Brownlow?”
"Men are so obtuse," said Julia, laughing. "Barbara has eyes only for Terrance Rooney, my dear."
"Good God, don't you think you'd better put a stop to it then?" he demanded.
"You needn't get your shirt in a knot. Barbara fully realizes an unequal marriage is beyond the pale, and I assure you it's all very innocent."
"So I suppose that means young Brownlow is dangling after Kitty!" he exploded.
"They're just four children having a little fun. All they ever do is laugh and play silly jokes and go racking about the town sightseeing and wearing off all that vulgar energy people have before they reach twenty."
He sighed and said, "I suppose you are right, Julia. I must be getting old. It's just that I have to go to Bolton again in a couple of days. The Rose Banks project has to be completed before they break ground next month. Perhaps I'd better have a word with Barbara before I go, just to be on the safe side."
After breakfast the next morning, Patrick managed to get her alone for a few minutes before she went jaunting off for the day. "Barbara, I want you to behave yourself while I'm away. Don't go off alone with young Terry. There's safety in numbers, remember, so just stick close to Kitty and you'll be fine." He hesitated, then said, "By the way, this Simon chap behaves himself, doesn't he?"
"Oh, yes, that's why Kitty likes him so much. He isn't forever sending her mooning looks and touching her and stealing kisses. We're all such good friends," Barbara said earnestly. Patrick looked relieved.
"Are you planning to get engaged, Patrick?" asked Barbara, avidly curious.
"To whom, pray, Miss Inquisitive?"
"Grace 'Rose Banks' Haynsworth, of course," said Barbara, laughing.
“I could do worse," he said noncommittally.
"Aren't you going to say good-bye to Kitty?" she asked tentatively, watching his face closely.
"I've run after Kitty for the last time! She knows I'm leaving. She'll have to come to me, not the other way round," he said finally.
While the girls awaited Simon, who was taking them to Madame Tussaud's, Barbara said to Kitty, "I managed to worm out of Patrick that he's planning to get engaged on this trip North."
Kitty's heart constricted painfully, but she strived to sound disinterested as she murmured, "Really?"
"I asked him to say good-bye to you, but he said you'd have to chase after him this time."
Kitty seethed with indignation but was determined not to let it show. "Barbara, men are like carriages--one doesn't have to go chasing after them because there will be another one along any moment."
Samuel Haynsworth was closeted with his daughter in his office.
"Now listen to me, Grace. This is our last chance. Patrick
O'Reilly is coming down this weekend and I want to make absolutely sure of him. He's a genius for ramrodding new ideas through, but if I lose him, I'll lose Gardiner and Bazley too. You know the bleachworks are so debt-ridden that I've come close to bankruptcy."
"That's been entirely due to bad management, Father. It's not your fault."
"It's my fault because I put the wrong people in charge.
But your brother is out now and that's why I'm so desperate to get O'Reilly. He's aggressive and hard-nosed with nerves of steel when it comes to taking chances in business. If he's behind it, Rose Banks will be a roaring success and put an end to our financial woes. The least you can do is help me snare him!"
"Father, Patrick O'Reilly can have any woman he wants." "Exactly! And that's why it's going to take more than looks and blushes to interest a young stallion like him. A little slap and tickle won't satisfy a lusty man, Grace. Get him into bed, girl! There's no man breathing who's a match for a woman with her mind set."
That same afternoon Patrick had been having an interesting discussion with Messrs. Gardiner and Bazley. He was surprised that they were toying with the idea of withdrawing their support from Rose Banks because of the state of Haynsworth's affairs. Patrick managed to assure the two millowners that their venture would be an unqualified success. He was annoyed With Samuel Haynsworth. The state of the business didn't bother him very much, because he knew with proper management it could provide a lavish living, as it had in the past. That Haynsworth had tried to put one over on him by keeping him in the dark about his financial troubles didn't sit well with Patrick. At dinner he avoided a frontal attack but decided to observe Haynsworth more closely. Sam's manner was so bluff and hearty that Patrick had a hard time hiding his amusement. It was glaringly obvious that the older man was pathetically trying to cover up something, and Patrick relented toward him because he was reminded of his father. His attention fell on Gr
ace. She had the angelic look of a girl just emerged from the convent. He wondered how he could get her into a receptive mood without wounding her delicacy. He pondered whether he was doing the right thing to contemplate marriage to her. Would she shrink in horror at his touch, her maidenly modesty outraged? He thought, Well, I must get over the first hurdle. "Would you like to show me the plants in the conservatory, Grace? Your father tells me you know all their Latin names."
Her innocent blue eyes fixed on his as she smiled her acceptance and arose from the table.
"Like a lamb to slaughter," thought Patrick irreverently. For the first time in years Patrick was a little unsure of himself. Should he declare himself first, or let his actions speak for him? As they stood in the green twilight admiring an exotic orchid, he gently drew her to him and softly touched her lips. Her tongue darted into his mouth expertly and he was so amazed that he wondered if it had really happened or if his imagination was playing tricks on him. He decided to put things to the test once more. Very tenderly he drew her toward him and gave her a chaste kiss, but she slid her body against his so invitingly it was obvious this wasn't her first encounter with a man. Patrick was at once shocked and intrigued. It was like making love to a nun; arousing because of its sinful quality! He was fascinated to see how far she would be willing to go.
Samuel Haynsworth came to the door of the conservatory in his hat and coat and announced, "I have to go out. I promised to visit an old friend of mine who's confined to bed. Grace will entertain you. Why don't you take Patrick upstairs to your sitting room? I'm sure you'll be much more cozy up there."
"All right, Daddy. Don't hurry back on our account. I'll keep Patrick amused," she promised and rubbed against him again. It was so patently obvious that they were being left alone together; Patrick thought that perhaps Haynsworth was trying to palm off not only a damaged business but also a soiled daughter.
Grace took his hand and led him upstairs to her rooms.
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