by Abby Ayles
Instead, dressed fairly plainly, Kitty sat holding a book in the front room, trying to eavesdrop on the guests as they arrived. She would not be able to listen in once everyone was there. The dancing was taking place at the other side of the vast mansion, and she could barely hear the music.
But people had been arriving for the past hour, and already the crowd was thinning and slowing. Soon everyone would be dancing in the ball room and she would just have to sit in the front room and read a book, like a child waiting to be sent to bed.
As the last coach pulled away and the last beautiful dress waved in the breeze and disappeared through the front door, Kitty curled up tighter in her window seat and finally opened her book.
Before she could even begin reading, the door opened with a slam, startling her.
A young woman walked in, sighing in exhaustion. She turned to the left and arranged her hair in the mirror, before inspecting her face, her jewels, and the fit of her dress. She was oblivious to the fact that she was not alone, so Kitty picked her book back up and began reading it quietly, as though she also had not noticed the other woman.
Nevertheless, she watched over the edge of her book as this beautiful young woman, with a crowded arrangement of silky, shiny, thick black hair, mellow blue eyes, and a sensual gait, preened herself in front of the mirror.
As Kitty turned the page, an abandoned book mark slid out and landed on the floor with a whisper. It was loud enough. The lady turned around and scanned the room.
Then her eyes landed on Kitty. “I beg your pardon, I did not see you there,” she said with a nervous chuckle.
Kitty shook her head. “It is quite alright, I was absorbed in my book. I am Kitty Langley,” she said.
“I am Delilah, Delilah Sinclair,” the woman replied.
Sinclair... Kitty knew that name from somewhere, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was something important, and yet as soon as she felt she was about to recall it, it slipped her mind.
Delilah had returned to her reflection and was aligning her necklace so that the clasp was once again behind her neck.
“Why are you not dancing? At first, I thought you were a member of staff, you are dressed so plainly, but your clothes look far too expensive,” Delilah observed, walking over to the fire place, sitting down before it, and slipping her feet out of her slippers.
Kitty was surprised she could tell from that distance. “I am the daughter of Baron Langley,” she replied. “But I am not allowed to attend the gala.”
“Oh, I see. Are you still a little young?” Delilah asked, placing her bare feet on a little footrest and sighing in relief. “I didn't take you for a child.”
“Not at all. I was going to be there, but I had an argument with my father, and it is my punishment to not attend the gala,” Kitty replied.
“That must have been a serious matter,” Delilah said, finally leaning back in her chair, looking into the fire.
“It was,” Kitty replied. “He had invited a Duke round for dinner, and was hoping that the young man would show some interest in me. But I accidentally mentioned my condition, and he would not have left faster if he had a pack of wolves chasing him.” She laughed nervously. “That happens a lot, though.”
“A condition, eh?” Delilah asked. “I understand that. My own father suffered from chronic stomach and chest pains. The doctors said he had a growth inside him which could not be removed. These things do get in the way of your life, and the life of your family. Not everyone is prepared for that.”
Kitty shrugged. “That is just it, there is nothing to be prepared for. I am managing my condition myself. I do not need a husband to care for me like some invalid. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. But my father does not believe so, and insists on my getting all sorts of treatment. Which, naturally, means all my suitors need to find out about the treatment, and that puts them off.”
“So you are not seriously ailing, or dying?” Delilah asked a little flippantly.
“Nothing so serious, although my father seems to believe I am at constant risk of coming to harm,” Kitty replied. “I can hardly believe that the man who spends half his life talking about how ill and frail I am has punished me for even mentioning my illness.”
“I suppose it is not an easy thing for him to manage. On the one hand he needs to defend you, but on the other he wants to make sure you marry the right man,” Delilah replied. “All fathers are a bit like that.”
Kitty pursed her lips. “I suppose so. But my father has a justification for acting this way.”
“And your mother?” Delilah asked.
“She passed away when I was a little girl. I think my father is more protective because of it,” Kitty explained.
“It must be difficult,” Delilah said, nodding. “But I am sure that you persevere.”
Kitty felt her heart warm a little towards Delilah. “I do my best. It's easier now I'm not quite as ill as I used to be. I used to be such a sickly child. My father doting over me was just what I needed back then. But now I am a grown woman. Sometimes... sometimes it feels as though my condition has moved from being a physical burden to being an emotional one.”
“How so?” Delilah asked.
“I used to hurt, and my joints were stiff all the time. But lately I only have the odd bad day. Most of the time I am no less capable than any other girl my age. And now I must pretend to still be ill, and go along with my father's beliefs, which is ruining my marriage prospects. If I were to act as well as I feel, my father would be saddened by the fact that he does not need to care for me.” Kitty sighed and sank back further into the window seat.
It was odd to talk to a stranger about this, but she felt better for talking to this wonderful young lady. She noticed that although there was a ring mark on her finger, there was no ring.
“Tell me a bit about you, seeing as you know my life story now,” Kitty said. “Are you married?”
Delilah pursed her lips. “I am not.” Then, she fell silent.
Kitty paused, waiting for Delilah to add something else. Especially considering the little white line left behind from wearing a wedding ring many years. But she said nothing.
“Are you engaged yet?” Delilah asked suddenly, before Kitty could say anything else. “You look about the right age.”
“Like I said, my father manages to scare all my suitors away. Or, well, I did so this time. But generally it is him,” she replied. “I don't think any one of them stayed for long enough to get to know me as a person.”
“Oh,” Delilah said, sounding a little disappointed. “I would have thought that, what with you being so pretty, at least one would have given you enough time to prove yourself. I have trouble believing that all young men would be so superficial.”
“Alas, it seems that they are,” Kitty replied.
“You will find the right man eventually,” Delilah said with conviction. “There is no doubt plenty of men out there who would give their right arm to be married to someone as lovely as you.”
Kitty laughed nervously. “No young man would have me, not as I am now. Between my treatments and my father's exaggeration of my illness, none have been brave enough to stay.”
“And why would you want to settle for the sort of man who runs for the hills when he faces even the smallest challenge? If you ask me, your circumstances are a blessing, as they will drive away all but the most serious of suitors,” Delilah mused.
“And what if nobody is serious?” Kitty asked.
“Then would you not rather be a spinster, than married to a coward? I know I would,” Delilah replied with a smirk.
Kitty just sighed.
“But that is beside the point. The right man will come along, you'll see,” Delilah insisted. “And he shall be everything you ever dreamed of and more.”
Kitty smiled. Delilah was such a wonderful person. How could she be so warm, so kind, so encouraging to someone she had only just met? Although they had barely been talking half an hour, Kitty felt a
strong affinity for Delilah, as though she were discovering a sister she had never had.
“Thank you for being so kind to me,” Kitty said softly.
“Not at all, I am just telling you the truth. Sometimes we cannot see the truth since our emotions get in the way of our senses, hiding things that are in plain sight. So, like a blind person, we need to have the truth described to us, so that we will recognize it,” Delilah explained.
“So you truly believe one day my prince will come?” Kitty replied with a laugh.
“I do, I honestly do,” Delilah said.
“I just wish he would hurry up. Or I shall be a hundred on my wedding day,” Kitty replied.
“But perhaps then you would both be so old that your ailment will be of no concern to him,” Delilah said. “I am sorry,” she added hastily, “that was in poor taste.”
Kitty laughed. “No, it is also true. Perhaps when I am not so young I can find a man who understands me. Or perhaps, if I look after myself well, I shall soon be considered in excellent health for my age.”
Delilah laughed too now. “Perhaps so. You just wait and see. He will find you.”
A head of shiny blonde hair stuck in through the door. “Delilah, come back to the dance. Duchess Haskett is asking after you.”
Delilah nodded and the blonde head lingered in the doorway, beckoning excitedly with a lily-white arm. “I must go,” Delilah said, turning to Kitty. “I've had a chance to rest my feet and made a friend. I hope I shall see you again soon.”
“I also hope we shall meet again soon,” Kitty replied, watching as Delilah slipped her perfect little feet into her slippers and all but floated out the door.
She was so in awe of Delilah's grace and beauty that she did not pick up her book again until the door had clicked softly shut.
Chapter 4
Several weeks passed and slowly Kitty's father forgot about her disobedience and she enjoyed some of the few freedoms that he did not consider “too much” for her. She was now able to go out into the garden, free run of the house including the dogs' room, and, most importantly, to entertain guests a couple of times per week.
Although her heart still yearned for more, for now she was just glad not to be stuck in her room with nothing to do but read. She loved her books, but even at the resort she enjoyed more variety than one room and a shelf of books day after day.
Her friend, Duke Haskett, had come to visit her shortly after the gala, and his wife, Mary, had promised to spend more time visiting Kitty. She was a wonderful woman, and kept true to her word, regularly stopping by with flowers, books, sweets, and little trinkets, to brighten up Kitty's day.
Dr. Allen was not exactly company, but it was nice to have him around. He rarely had much work to do with Kitty, as most days she needed no care at all, but he would make sure he was seen to administer oils for her joints, and to prepare her special herbal teas, to let Baron Langley see that Kitty was looked after.
Baron Langley too was more present, and he spent long days talking to Kitty, reading to her from his paper, and teaching the dogs new tricks, much to her delight. Although it got frustrating at times, in some ways it was nice that he still saw her as his little girl
Whereas many young women did not have a relationship with their father as they grew older, instead bonding with their mother, Kitty had grown very close to her father. And not having any male heirs to pass the title onto, Baron Langley was pleased to teach Kitty all about his responsibilities and rights.
She would listen to him intently, imagining herself in the future as a spinster, Baroness Kitty Langley, fulfilling the same position.
So she was not short of good company.
But the person who Kitty longed the most to see had not yet made an appearance. Helena Keats, her childhood playmate, was still very ill.
They had met through Dr. Allen, before he became their private family doctor. Back then he was a consultant for five families in the area, and one day, when visiting his office, Baroness Langley had bumped into Lady Keats. Although Lady Keats was several ranks below Baroness Langley, the two of them found they had much in common and soon became the best of friends.
Which meant that Kitty and Helena would play together a lot as children.
Both being sickly, they never left the playroom, and barely did anything, but they enjoyed it. It was nice to be able to play with another child that had their own energy and movement restrictions.
With time, Kitty had learned that Helena could not move her legs effectively or breathe very well because at the age of two a cart had run into her, crushing the lower portion of her back and ribs. She had regained some mobility, but would never walk normally again.
They found solace in one another, but whereas Kitty grew stronger and stronger as she received increasingly effective treatments, Helena only got worse and worse. It reached a point where Helena became bedridden, and besides the odd walk in a wheelchair, she barely left her house any more.
Nevertheless, they had remained friends. Although not as close as they were before, they never forgot one another and remained in contact through letters, visiting each other as much as possible.
But Helena had neither stopped by nor written a letter inviting Kitty to visit in all the time since she had returned. And now Kitty was worried.
One night she woke up with a sense of dread. As though something absolutely terrible had just happened. She sat bolt upright, unable to get back to sleep at all. Something was very, very wrong.
As soon as she heard him walking down the hallway, she threw on her bed coat and went to find her father.
“Daddy,” she said, walking into the drawing room, “have we not had any news from the Keats family at all?”
“Not a bit, I'm afraid. I suppose they are busy. Or in London again,” he replied.
“But it has been nearly three weeks since I returned,” Kitty sighed. “Surely they should be home by now?”
“I am not sure, I have not heard much from them,” Baron Langley said. “Not since you last left for the resort, at any rate. I am sure they are simply busy. Helena's condition does require a lot of upkeep. More than yours. No doubt they will reach out to us when they are ready for visitors.”
“Or perhaps their letters have been lost in the post,” Kitty replied.
“If you are that worried, how about you write to her?” Baron Langley said. “You have permission to use my study before breakfast, to compose the letter.”
Kitty felt a little excited. The study was not always open to her. “Thank you, I shall do that immediately.”
Her father's study was a big, brown room with not much light and not much room to move around in. It was so full of different files, books, and stationary items, Kitty sometimes wondered if he had just bought an entire book store.
Settling into the vast leather chair behind the desk, Kitty sat down to pen a letter for Helena. The post would arrive later that morning, so perhaps she would be able to send it with the mail man.
“My darling Helena,
I hope that my letter finds you well. It is only that I have returned from my treatment at the resort and I was wondering if you should perhaps like to visit. Or perhaps I should visit you?
Please write back to me and let me know how you are!
Your dear friend, Kitty.”
Folding it into the envelope and rushing downstairs, she got to the door just as the post man knocked. At the second knock she swung the door open, startling him and causing him to drop the letters he was holding for them.
“I have a letter for you to take with you,” she said.
He shook his head a little. “And I have a letter for you, miss,” he replied, leaning down and picking up the three envelopes from the floor. “Two for your father, but one for you.”
They exchanged letters and as he walked off, Kitty's heart beat faster. Perhaps this was from Helena? Then she could rest easy, knowing her friend was well.
Kitty looked at the letter in her hand.
The handwriting was, sadly, not Helena's. It wasn't that of anyone she knew, for that matter. The letters were big, looping, and beautiful, in a thick ink which left folded ribbon-like lines behind, like an inscription beneath an artist's drawing.
Kitty put her father's two letters on the dresser beside the front door and tore her own letter open.
“Dearest Kitty,
Please forgive me, I have asked Duke Haskett for your address as I need your assistance most urgently. My little brother has foolishly injured himself whilst riding down country roads last night. He is in great pain and needs someone to care for him.
Unfortunately, he rejects all medical care. No matter what I have said or done, he stubbornly refuses to have a doctor or nurse care for him. It is only after arguing with him the better part of the night that he agreed to a normal person, with some experience handling such conditions, becoming his in-house nurse.
The problem now is that I do not know of anyone else who could perform this task. And then I thought of you. You have lived with aches and pains much of your life. Perhaps you would be able to persuade him to care for himself? And to nurse him back to health?
I know it is a lot to ask, but my little brother really needs help, and it may be the only way of assisting him.
I beg of you, please consider my request.
Yours sincerely,
Delilah Sinclair.”
Kitty was so surprised she read and re-read the letter a few times over. She didn't even hear as her father walked into the hallway.
“What have we here? Why are you standing by the front door? There are cracks under the door, you will catch cold,” her father said.
“I have received a letter from Delilah Sinclair,” Kitty said. “But it's ridiculous.”
“That name rings a bell,” Baron Langley remarked. “I think Delilah Sinclair was present at the gala on the night you were punished.”
Kitty nodded. “Yes, she came and spoke to me. Seemed a lovely young woman. A friend of yours?”
“No, she was someone important, I can't quite put my finger on it... What is she like?” Baron Langley asked.