A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(46)

Kitty blinked at her.

‘Set her cap?’ she repeated, a little incredulous. ‘My lady, you must be mistaken. Cecily has no notion of setting her cap at anyone.’

Lady Radcliffe squeezed her arm, gently. ‘Perhaps you have not noticed that she has danced twice with Lord Montagu, just this evening alone, then? And twice too at the Sinclair ball. It does look a little fast, my dear.’

Kitty blinked again. Dear lord, was two dances in one evening really such a claxon symbol of marital intent to these people? She wished Radcliffe had felt the need to share that detail with her. She thanked Lady Radcliffe profusely, and looked wildly about for Cecily. Ah. There she was. Speaking to Lord Montagu, Kitty noted with exasperation, which did not help her case and … and looking quite about to dance with him a third time. Kitty did not run across the room, but she most certainly hastened.

‘Cecily!’ she said brightly. ‘And Lord Montagu, how do you do? Lord Montagu, I am afraid your mother is looking for you – she quite wants to speak with you most urgently. Perhaps you should find her?’

Lord Montagu looked perplexed and a little cross at the interruption, but slouched off, nonetheless.

‘Cecily,’ Kitty hissed. ‘You weren’t to know, but you must only dance with a man once an evening. More than that is to be considered awfully fast by these people.’

It was Cecily’s turn to look perplexed. ‘How terribly prudish,’ she said, only mildly interested. ‘It sounds most foolish to me – why, in Ancient Greece—’

‘But we are not in Ancient Greece!’ Kitty interrupted, a little shrill. ‘We are in London, and these are – these are the rules.’

‘But I like dancing,’ Cecily complained. ‘It is the only bit of all this that I like.’

Kitty did not have time for this. She cast about for Lady Jersey again, but the lady was nowhere to be seen. The grandfather clock in the corner struck eleven, and the sound of its twangs audible even over the hubbub of the evening made Kitty feel quite distressed. Time was running out – tonight – this week – in general. She had to get the vouchers.

Just then she spotted Mrs Burrell across the room. Thank goodness. She did not know a single woman with whom she was conversing, but that surely did not matter – she had met Mrs Burrell before, and after all, she was the lowest ranking lady amongst all the patronesses.

‘Come, Cecy,’ she commanded, marching off towards her.

‘Mrs Burrell,’ she greeted the woman with a deep curtsey. Mrs Burrell looked at her without any discernible sign of recognition.

‘We met at Lady Radcliffe’s soirée last week,’ Kitty reminded her.

‘Oh … yes,’ Mrs Burrell said at last, in a glacial drawl. ‘Miss Tallant, wasn’t it?’

‘Talbot,’ Kitty corrected, but from the little glint in the lady’s eye, she felt suddenly sure she knew that. ‘I just wanted to tell you,’ she persevered, ‘how magnificent I think your dress.’

Compliments were always safe, surely?

‘Thank you …’ Mrs Burrell said, with the same disconcerting slowness. She made a show of looking Kitty up and down. ‘I also like … the embroidery upon your fan.’

It was praise so specific that it felt as damning as an insult, and from the smirks around her – and one audible titter – this had been noted by all the ladies present. Kitty felt her face grow hot. She opened her mouth – to say what she didn’t know – but was interrupted again.

‘I believe that woman is trying to catch your attention,’ Mrs Burrell pointed out coolly. ‘You should go to her before she … overexerts herself.’

Kitty glanced over to see Aunt Dorothy gesturing to her vigorously. She glared discouragingly, but her aunt continued the insistent summons.

‘Do not let us keep you,’ Mrs Burrell said sweetly, and there were titters again. Curtseying a farewell, they retreated, Kitty’s face aflame.

‘For goodness’ sake, put your hand down,’ Kitty hissed at Aunt Dorothy. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’

‘You were embarrassing yourself,’ her aunt hissed back, seizing her arm and leading her away from the dance floor. ‘One cannot simply walk up to persons such as Mrs Burrell, even I could have told you that. She is the highest stickler imaginable and everyone is quite terrified of her, even Lady Radcliffe finds her daunting. You were about to receive the most humiliating of set downs.’

‘But we have met before,’ Kitty complained. ‘How else am I meant to secure Almack’s vouchers if I cannot speak to these ladies?’

‘Rid the notion from your mind, I beg of you,’ Aunt Dorothy said sharply. ‘It is never going to happen, and you cannot bring it about by these methods.’

‘And you said this wouldn’t happen, either, and look where we are!’ Kitty couldn’t help saying hotly, gesturing to the ballroom around them. ‘When will you start believing in me, Aunt?’

Aunt Dorothy appeared to keep her cool with considerable effort.

‘It is not a matter of belief,’ she said with forced patience. ‘There is a reason Almack’s is considered exclusive, even amongst polite society, and there is no point wasting energy chasing the impossible. You already have several wealthy gentlemen dangling after you – is that not enough?’