Page 71 of Gambling with the Earl
Her sister stopped walking and looked at her enquiringly. “How so? He was the earl, and you were just a servant.”
“We spoke, often. I even sang for him.” A hard lump formed in her throat as she put it all into words. “He protected me from his uncle, the Earl of Darkmoor, when he came to visit. If Guy hadn’t helped me, he would have…” Kitty shook her head, unwilling to go further. “He was suffering from an injury he sustained in battle, and I tended to his wounds.” She gulped back tears as she tried to explain it all.
“And?” Rosalind raised her eyebrows, her expression wise beyond her years.
Kitty ducked away from her knowing gaze. “And so much more.”
“You kissed him?” Rosalind’s voice was breathless and her cheeks tinged with pink.
“I did.” Kitty put her hands to her face, hiding her shame. She wouldn’t say anything further to her innocent sister, though part of her longed to tell of how Guy had set her body on fire with hislove-making. He made her feel things she’d never dreamed of. Sensations she would never again experience.
“Did he take advantage of you?” Rosalind asked, her face pointed and anxious.
“No.” Kitty shook her head fervently. “Nothing like that. He told me he loved me.” Tears were streaming down her face now. “And he said he would find a way for us to be together.” Her voice broke at the memory, and she sniffed again. Her hands fumbled in her pockets for a handkerchief but came out empty.
Rosalind gasped, her eyes wide as she took it all in. “He told you he loved you?”
Kitty nodded, abandoning her search for a handkerchief and using her sleeve instead.
“And do you love him?” Rosalind pursed her lips and pointedly handed over her own handkerchief.
“I do.” The words came out on a wail of anguish as she finally admitted the truth in her heart, pressing her damp face into the lavender-scented folds of cloth.
“But Kitty, this is no cause for grief. If two people love each other, they can find a way to be together.” Rosalind’s voice was full of optimism. For her, life was so simple. They had reached the highest point of the garden, from here the land dipped down towards the sparkling sea. As if mindful of the painful memories it would bring, Rosalind turned them both around so they were facing the green sweep of lawn and the familiar outline of Shoreston.
“Not always,” Kitty insisted, dabbing her eyes. “Not when one person has lied to the other.” This was the crux of it. The act she would never forgive herself for. The black beams of her childhood home blurred in front of her. She was deaf to the melodic tweeting of the birds and oblivious to the golden slant of the sun’s rays.
“Nonsense,” Rosalind tutted impatiently. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Kitty shook her head. “I put my fear and distrust before everything else. He was so angry.” She recalled the coldness in his voice when he ordered her to leave and she shivered, despite the warmth of the day.
Rosalind put her blonde head to one side and regarded her thoughtfully. “Won’t he have had time to calm down, by now?”
“I couldn’t go back.” Kitty started pacing again, wringing her hands in agitation. “I couldn’t face him.”
“I think you’re going to have to.” Rosalind folded her arms decisively. “Or you’ll spend the rest of your days regretting it. Come inside, I have an idea.”
*
“Here now.” Rosalindplaced the dress reverently on the bed and stood back to admire the shimmering silk. A splash of colour in the otherwise plain bedchamber. “This will look beautiful on you,” she declared.
Kitty felt flushed and untidy, but she couldn’t help reaching down to run her hand over the rose-coloured gown. The silken fabric pooled beneath her fingers as she gently touched a row of impossibly tiny pearl buttons. This dress was from another age of happiness and wealth. It had belonged to their mother, worn only for the most special occasions. Since Isabella’s death, Kitty had been keeping it safe for Rosalind. She’d imagined fetching it out for her sister’s engagement ball.
“I couldn’t wear it,” she declared. “I’m too tall, and I’m the wrong shape as well.” She snatched back her hand, embarrassed.
“Youwillwear it. And when the Earl of Rossfarne sees you, he will be so overcome he will sweep you into his arms and forgive you everything.”
Kitty ignored such a romantic flight of fancy. “This dress is meant for someone dainty and elegant, like you.” She was better suited to the servant’s dress she’d worn in Rossfarne Castle.
Her sister pretended she hadn’t spoken. “You need a pendant to go with it.” She flicked a glance at Kitty. “Maybe one of the Answick jewels?”
“No.” Kitty backed away and held up her hands as if warding off a curse. “Not them.”
Rosalind let out a peal of laughter. “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded. “But we will find something. And before that, you will sit still and let me fix your hair. You won’t leave this bedchamber until I’ve transformed you into the lady you were always meant to be.”
Rosalind stood on tiptoe until she could reach Kitty’s shoulders and lower her forcibly into a waiting chair. Kitty opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. Her determination to eschew her mother’s lineage hadn’t brought her good fortune of any kind. A small part of her mind suggested that mayhap it was time to embrace it? Still, she couldn’t help sighing deeply as Rosalind fussed over her.
“This doesn’t feel right,” she stated. Since Rosalind’s birth, Kitty had been the one to stand in attendance.
