A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(25)



‘I need to talk to you, James. About K— Miss Talbot. It’s terribly important, we must speak.’

Oh Lord. ‘Yes of course, old boy,’ Radcliffe said reassuringly. ‘But perhaps this is not quite the right location for a proper conversation – and from tomorrow I am away for a few days – can it wait a little?’

Archie rolled this around in his mind. ‘I suppose,’ he said at last. He fixed his brother with a stern look. ‘But I shan’t forget.’

Aunt Dorothy held her character through dinner, through the performances, through the carriage ride home – but as soon as they stepped over the threshold of Wimpole Street, she could not hold her tongue a second longer.

‘Is it done?’ she said. ‘Are you engaged?’

‘Not quite,’ Kitty answered, pulling at the buttons of her cloak. ‘But he did propose.’

Aunt Dorothy clapped her hands.

‘Did you accept?’ Cecily demanded. ‘Can we go home now?’

‘Almost,’ her sister promised. ‘I could not accept until he has his family’s approval – it would not be safe otherwise. I invited him to propose again once he has it.’

Her aunt nodded approvingly. ‘Quite so. I should not think the mother will object, if he’s insistent enough.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘But you were right to be careful about the brother. Very watchful eyes, he has – and not at all pleased with you.’

‘There is not much he can do about it now, anyhow,’ Kitty said carelessly. Throwing herself into an armchair, she hoisted one leg over the arm and sank her body into it with most unladylike dishevelment. ‘It would take a miracle indeed to force Archie to go back on his word. A few days more and I will have caught our fortune good and proper.’

Cecily let out a small, judgemental sniff. ‘I am not sure I like the way you both speak of him. Like he’s a – a fox you’re hunting.’

Kitty was too pleased to be cross. ‘Cecy, we both know very well how much you will enjoy being rich. Think of the books!’

This appeal to Cecily’s intellectual self was felt to be less morally repugnant than previous arguments, and Cecily unbent enough to smile at the thought.

‘Besides,’ Kitty said, ‘all men of his sort are destined for loveless marriages of convenience, anyway. And if some woman is going to enjoy his fortune, why shouldn’t it be us?’

Kitty’s grin was all triumph. She could not suppose anyone in the world had ever felt as relieved as she did now. She had done it. Mr de Lacy – Archie – had proposed to her. No one could take that away from her – not even Lord Radcliffe.





12


Over the next two days it was clear. Radcliffe had, indeed, capitulated. Mr de Lacy and Lady Amelia had resumed joining the Talbot sisters for their daily walks without the expected chaperonage of their elder brother – although with enough attendants that any intimacies beyond the exchange of coy glances and secretive smiles were impossible. There had been no retaliation, no attempts to force Archie and Kitty apart again, no word from Radcliffe at all, in fact. Kitty had won – well, almost. Archie had yet to formally speak to either his brother or mother regarding their betrothal – both having reportedly left London for the weekend – but he had vowed, passionately and at length, to secure both their approvals when they returned.

Kitty was in the midst of writing a second letter to Beatrice that Sunday – to reassure them that all was in hand, and that she had received a proposal – when Sally entered and informed her that Lord Radcliffe was waiting below.

‘Are you quite sure?’ Kitty asked, wrong-footed, but Sally merely demanded whether he was to be shown in or not. Kitty stammered out her assent and then, chastising herself for her nerves, stood and ran a hand through curls that were in a little less than their usual order.

Radcliffe looked rather out of place in their parlour, which suddenly appeared narrower, the ceiling lower, in the face of his presence. From the way his eyes lingered on the furniture – so expensive to Kitty’s eyes when she had first arrived, and yet so dingy compared to that of Grosvenor Square – he knew it too.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Talbot. Please do excuse my incivility in appearing without an invitation.’

Miss Talbot was gracious enough to grant the excuse.

‘How may I help you, my lord?’ she asked, with equal politeness, gesturing for him to be seated. ‘Are your family quite well?’

‘Yes, very well. A state in which I plan to keep them.’ At this he looked at her very directly in the eye and let a silence fall. They both maintained this, each waiting for the other to break it – and Kitty was grimly satisfied when it was he, not she, that spoke first.

‘Miss Talbot, I’m afraid I must now draw your acquaintance with my family to a close. Forgive me for speaking plainly, but I will not allow you to bamboozle Archie into marrying you, for no greater reason than your avarice.’

There was something about the way he spoke, with such soft contempt, that was more powerful than had he shouted at her. Kitty felt her neck grow hot. She wondered if she should protest that he had her all wrong, that she loved Archie, but something about his cool gaze told her that this would be quite useless. Instead, she let the curtain fall, observing him as calmly as he was observing her. Two gazes of assessing calculation meeting honestly at last.

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