Page 43 of The Trouble with Tigers
Kitty fingered the fine silk material and smiled inwardly. Six months ago, she would never have anticipated such joy over simply wearing a gown—and not wearing a wig.
“I can hardly believe you’re here,” the housekeeper murmured. Their eyes met in the dressing mirror and Mrs. Finney gave a wobbly smile. “I only wish you could stay longer.”
“As do I.”
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky outside. Seconds later a crack of thunder rattled the windows panes in her bedchamber.
“Why don’t you sit while I fix your hair and tell me all about your handsome fiancé. You said you’ve been staying with the baron’s friend in London town. Is that where you met your beau? He has a dashing smile, that one.”
Kitty resisted rolling her eyes. Apparently, Zeke had a smile for everyone but her.
What could she tell Mrs. Finney about him? She longed to confide all, to tell her the engagement was nothing but a sham,but she didn’t dare. Who knew how the farce would play out? What if Garrick later questioned the older lady and decided she knew about Kitty’s deception? He’d sack her with no references, or worse. Kitty couldn’t risk it.
“Lord Thurgood is the Earl of Claybourne’s grandson and heir.”
The housekeeper’s eyes widened and her fingers, busily pinning Kitty’s curls momentarily paused. “You’re to be a countess. The baron would be so proud. But don’t stop there.”
“As you surmised, I met him while a guest of the earl. Our engagement happened quite recently. In fact, the official announcement will take place at the earl’s country estate in Derbyshire, which is why we’re heading there straight away. Garrick awaits me there.”
Mrs. Finney wrinkled her nose. “I see. Didn’t realize he’d be there, too. I don’t mind telling you, his lordship was like an angry bee after you left. He’d quiet down for a bit, but whenever one of the runners he hired to find you showed up with no word of your whereabouts…” She blew air out her cheeks. “All hades broke loose. The Lord only knows how the baron’s friend—the earl—managed to keep you hidden away so well. But not so well you didn’t catch yourself a husband, eh?” She gave Kitty a bawdy wink in the mirror before setting down the silver comb and smiling at her handiwork. “There now. A regular princess.”
Kitty stared at her reflection and couldn’t resist an exultant smile. Mrs. Finney had piled her long hair high on her crown to allow the curls to spill down over her nape and shoulders. The grubby boy, Kit, was well and truly gone.
“Thank you, Mrs. Finney. It’s been a long while since…anyone styled my hair so well.”
“No? I’d have thought the efforts of a ladies maid from a fine house like the earl’s would far outshine anything I could do.”
Kitty sent her an impish grin. “No one has your touch.”
Mrs. Finney soon let herself out, leaving Kitty to gather herself before the dinner hour.
She gazed at herself in the long mirror. She may not have had a proper come-out, but at least she had the beautiful gowns her grandfather purchased for her London debut.
How excited she’d been at the prospect of her first London season. Everything had been set. Grandfather rented a house in the fashionable district, enlisted a proper sponsor.
Then Collin sailed for America. When his ship went down at sea, a debut season lost all appeal, despite her grandfather's urgings.
But she didn’t want to think of that now. Instead she’d focus on all the dresses she had at her disposal. Maybe they were no longer of the first stare of fashion, yet to her they were magnificent.
As she let herself into the corridor, an unbidden thought emerged. What would Zeke think now?
***
Zeke waited in the parlor of Hastings House for the ladies to join him. He opened his gold pocket watch, checking the time. Ten minutes to eight. He tucked the watch back into his waistcoat and stared out the oriel window. Outside, rain fell in sheets.
Kitty had suggested their early morning departure might be delayed as a result of the storm. The fact she’d been proven correct irked him. Exactly why, he couldn’t say. It would amount to no more than a few hours, after all.
But then, if he was being honest, it wasn’t the delay so much as the sense he needed to get Kitty away from here. He’d read something in her eyes as she systematically inspected each room in her home. She seemed forlorn. Almost defeated. Seeing the valiant lady who braved the streets to London, then dressedlike a lad and posed as a servant, looking like a whipped puppy bothered him.
Approaching footsteps from behind him provided a welcome distraction from his thoughts. He swung around, hands clasped behind his back, and blinked at the apparition standing in the doorway.
Kit had once and for all been put to rest.
Lady Kitty had dressed for dinner in a form-fitting gown, made of a frothy green material that matched her eyes and glinted in the flickering candlelight. Her long hair had been styled high, and soft, fat curls cascaded from the crown of her head, while delicate tendrils artfully framed her face. She looked, in a word, stunning.
He ought to compliment her, as any gentleman would. “Good evening, my lady,” he said instead.
She sent him a tentative smiled and moved toward him, her gown making soft, swishing sounds. The unique scent of her reached him before she did—rosemary and lavender. He smiled remembering the tiny bar of soap he’d unearthed in Kit’s room.
