A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(42)
‘But I shall be at the Sinclair ball,’ she added. He bowed his head over her hand.
‘Then I shall make sure to be there,’ he promised, smiling.
Kitty bade him farewell, and he left. She allowed herself, just this once, the indulgence of looking forward to seeing him again.
Miss Talbot had not expected to see Lord Radcliffe for the rest of the Season. In fact, Kitty hadn’t thought she would ever set eyes on the man again in her life. She was surprised then, to spot his tall figure loitering by the back of the Sinclairs ballroom later that week. How fortuitous – she made a beeline for him at once. After two further gentleman callers had enquired whether she could be found at Almack’s the next Wednesday, Kitty knew she must find out more about how one secured a voucher. Radcliffe would surely know.
She greeted him brightly, and he returned her greeting without enthusiasm. Still, Kitty persevered.
‘Who is it that issues the vouchers for Almack’s?’ she asked directly. He raised his eyes to the heavens, as if searching for patience.
‘Princess Esterházy, the Countess Lieven, Mrs Burrell, Lady Castlereagh, Lady Jersey, Lady Sefton and Lady Cowper,’ he listed, ticking them off on his fingers. ‘They meet each week to decide who shall be on the list – though I do not think much of your chances.’
‘Why is that?’ she demanded. ‘Is there something I ought to be doing differently?’
‘I believe,’ he said slowly, taking out his snuffbox at a glacial pace, ‘I very much believe … that my patience has run out, Miss Talbot. I will no longer permit you to treat me as a lending library – take yourself away, now.’
Kitty felt a spike of frustration. ‘Just this one last question!’ she insisted.
‘No,’ he said, calmly availing himself of some snuff. ‘Go away before I start shouting to the room that you are a blasted fortune-hunter.’
She scowled at him. ‘I must say,’ she said hotly. ‘If you had even an ounce of kindness, you would try a bit harder to be useful to me. Why, it would cost you nothing to help – to explain about Almack’s and just tell me who is who and suchlike. I do not think you very charitable, my lord.’
His eyebrows had risen higher through this tirade, and once she had finished, he shut his snuffbox with a decisive snap.
‘By George, you are right,’ he said, with a maniacal gleam to his eye. ‘Most remiss of me – going forward, I shall dedicate myself to your cause, Miss Talbot.’
‘You will?’ she asked, a little wary at this change of heart.
‘Oh, I shall be your most loyal servant,’ he assured her.
Kitty had been right to be wary, as it quickly became apparent that Radcliffe’s offer was motivated by an extremely evil spirit of mischief. For the rest of the evening, he affixed himself to her side like an irritating shadow, whispering ‘helpful’ commentary in her ear regarding every gentleman she spoke to or looked at.
‘Now to your left you will see Mr Thornbury,’ he was now saying, sotto voce. ‘Four thousand pounds a year, not bad at all, but quite mad, you know. Runs in the family – he’d shoot you within the week, thinking you were a fox or somesuch. That gentleman, on the other hand – not mad at all, so a point in his favour. But quite riddled with pox, I hear. How does that weigh with you?’
She tried to ignore him, but it was like having a particularly loud and irksome fly buzzing around her, sufficiently distracting that she could not help tuning in despite her best efforts. When strapped for inspiration on damning tidbits about a passing young man, he would just whisper ‘rich’ or ‘poor’ into her ear.
‘Would you stop that!’ she hissed, after it became apparent that her policy of ignoring him was not working.
‘I am merely trying to be of use to you, my dear Miss Talbot,’ he replied, all faux-contrition, ‘I am endeavouring to be charitable, and I do not think that involves allowing you to speak to a loose fish without fair warning.’
‘Someone will hear you,’ she whispered threateningly.
‘Well then, I hope they may also take the warning,’ he said, generously.
She cast about for a saviour and grinned widely at an approaching gentleman – who unfortunately appeared to find the expression alarming rather than inviting and swerved away. After she had seen this same action repeated several times, she realised with horror that, ‘People think we’re courting, now! For goodness’ sake.’
Luckily this seemed to shock Radcliffe out of his amusement, and she used the distraction to throw herself into the crowd. Really, was it not enough for him to have ruined her efforts once – was he to be a constant curse upon her? Kitty found herself next to the refreshments table and stood for a moment, pretending to admire the feast but in truth spying for a new dance partner. She spotted Lord Arden oiling his way across the floor towards her, and turned quickly around. She caught the eye of a glamorous dowager – her ample bosom heaving with jewels – and as the lady was smiling at her in obvious invitation, Kitty was forced to approach, though reluctantly.
Kitty had developed a respectful distrust of these sorts of ladies during her time in London. As far as she could tell, the negotiations around the construction – or destruction – of potential marital alliances were performed entirely by these highly motivated women on behalf of their charges. The work might be subtler than a siege – introductions arranged, conversations manipulated, and adversaries degenerated all with a light hand – but it was as cut-throat and as planned as any military campaign.