Blackmoore(27)

As they left me, I knelt in front of the bird cage, looking at the dark bird up close. Its feathers were a shiny, rich black that almost looked blue in the sunlight. Its tail was forked and twitched, over and over. This was a bird I had never seen before—not in books nor in the real world. And even though I watched it for a long time, not once did it sing.

77







Chapter 10


Alice did not disappoint. As she helped me dress for dinner that evening, she arranged my dark, wavy hair with a skill our maid at home did not possess. But she did not say a word, leaving me to my own thoughts.

It was time to think through my plan. To strategize. After a few hours of wandering on my own, I had spent the afternoon with Sylvia and Miss St. Claire watching through the window as carriages drove up to the court-yard. A stream of guests came all throughout the day. They were young and old, handsome and not. Tonight we would all dine together. Tonight I would have to set in motion my plan for earning my trip to India.

The thought made my heart quicken with nervousness. My bargain with Mama seemed, in a flash, like the most foolish thing I had ever agreed to. I was supposed to convince three gentlemen to propose to me?

What madness had possessed me to make me think that was an attain-able goal? I had only ever had one man propose to me, and that was Mr.

Cooper, a decaying old man who only wanted a warm body to watch over his deathbed. He would have proposed to anyone with a pulse. But these friends of the Delafields—these were not people like Mr. Cooper. These were elegant, wealthy people who were not desperate like he was. And I was supposed to convince three of them to want me?

I felt sick. I would never win this bargain. I did not know the first 78



thing about entrapping a man. And if I failed, I would pay far too high a price. Whatever Mama had in mind for me, I would not like it. I gripped my courage tighter, telling myself that I would prevail. I would succeed at this. Failure was not an option to me. Not with what I knew of my mother’s goals and dreams and designs. She took what was not hers and swindled futures away from unsuspecting fools. Why had I been such a fool as to agree to this scheme? Why had I not limited what I would owe her if I failed?

My thoughts raced as panic took hold of me. I watched Alice in the mirror, arranging my hair, and I suddenly remembered looking into a different mirror, years ago, and watching Eleanor get ready for a ball.

“You are quite pretty,” I told her, watching from the bed as our maid Mary pinned her hair into place. I was lying on my stomach, my chin propped on my hand. Eleanor and I looked much like each other and quite like our mother—the same dark hair, the same hazel eyes. In noticing Eleanor’s beauty, I was also hoping for my own, at some future day. I was fourteen, and she was sixteen. I was not old enough to go to the ball, but I hoped to be at least as beautiful as she was in two years’ time.

“With whom do you think you will dance tonight?”

She turned her head, watching Mary’s work in the mirror. “I think I will dance with whomever I choose, of course.”

I frowned at her. “You cannot choose. You must be chosen.”

She laughed, and her gaze cut into me. “You are too young to under-stand.” I frowned harder, hating the condescension in her voice. But before I could make a retort, Mary stood back and asked, “How is that, Miss Eleanor?”

Eleanor looked at her hair, turning this way and that, for what seemed like a long time, before nodding and thanking Mary, who left the room. And only then did I say, “I am not much younger than you, you know. You could be nice and train me so that I will know what I’m doing when I am your age.”

Eleanor faced me, a kind smile lifting her lips. “Of course I will train you, Kitty. But I don’t have time tonight. I will only tell you this: you are always in 79



J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n

control. A man may think he has chosen you as his interest, but you will be the one to turn his head.”

“What do you think, miss?” Alice’s voice brought me back from my reverie. I turned my head this way and that, just as I had seen Eleanor do, and then I smiled faintly and said, “It is very nice. Thank you.”

Alice let out what sounded like a sigh of relief as she stepped back.

It was time, then. As I made my way downstairs, I thought of Eleanor’s words. She had never taught me any more than that, for I had stopped asking her by the time I was old enough, in her opinion, to know such things. But if there was anyone in the world who could accomplish this goal, it was Eleanor. So if I could simply behave the way I had seen her behave, I would be on the right road to success. I breathed deeply, telling myself it would all work out, but my heart would not slow down, and my hands would not stop their trembling.

The drawing room was already crowded when I made my way to its grand doors after winding through the west wing and down two flights of stairs. Sylvia saw me as soon as I entered and took hold of my arm.

“Come. Let me introduce you,” she said, pulling me into the room.

The fire was too hot, the room too crowded, and the stuffiness of the air weighed on me. Heat prickled through my long gloves, and I wished for a fan. There were so many gowns and so many shoulders and so many feathered headdresses. I was not prepared for the new London styles here.

I had heard of them, but I had not seen them before. The effect was dis-concerting. I felt like a bird who had wandered into some strange flock, surrounded by a different species.