A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(59)

Kitty let Pemberton rattle on, while in her mind she was planning the picnic she would take her sisters on as soon as she and Cecy returned home.

‘Pride is important, too, however, as my mother and I also agreed,’ Pemberton was saying now. ‘Pride in one’s family and one’s family name, you know. It is why she is so set on my marrying a proper Christian woman, with all the right breeding to help launch my political career.’

The term ‘breeding’ should – in Kitty’s opinion – only be used for livestock, and certainly not women.

‘I understand,’ she said sweetly. ‘I should very much like to meet her.’

This was true, in fact, for how else was Kitty to prove to this woman that she had sufficient ‘breeding’ to suit her? She clearly had high expectations, which would have to be met, even if only on the surface. If this was the reason for his delay in proposal, Kitty was sure she could dazzle Mrs Pemberton with … oh, biblical quotes, or something like that.

‘Perhaps,’ Kitty said with serene virtuosity, ‘we might attend a church service together.’

Pemberton beamed. ‘She should like that very much, I’m sure. Which is your church?’

Oh, bother.

‘Oh, near to my aunt’s house,’ Kitty said vaguely. ‘Very small, you know, though quite beautiful.’

She distracted him by asking him to identify a flower for her, and the resulting lecture of the Latin etymology of all the flora and fauna they passed encompassed the rest of their walk. Kitty had only a few moments’ respite before Mr Crawton was due to arrive. Though a more recent suitor than Pemberton, Kitty felt sure she could nudge Crawton, at least, towards a declaration – he seemed always so shocked whenever they spoke, so flattered each time she accepted a dance.

‘Another one?’ Cecily said in faint distress. ‘Now?’

‘Hush, dear, Kitty is negotiating,’ her aunt chided soothingly. ‘Why not tell me that wonderful little story about Shakespeare. I should like to hear it again.’

If Pemberton’s greatest challenge was his talkativeness, Crawton’s was his shyness. He walked beside Kitty quietly – with permanently wide eyes that made him look always as if he had just this moment tasted something very sharp – and was more than happy to let Kitty manage their conversation. This was certainly an improvement upon Mr Pemberton, but it also did not make the likelihood of Crawton plucking up the courage to state his intentions any greater. Kitty sighed.

‘You must tell me of your home,’ Kitty instructed him, warmly, wanting to draw him out a little. ‘You told me it was in Bedfordshire? I confess I have never been.’

Crawton did not respond. Kitty looked over at him, to find his attention had quite wandered. Their paths were about to cross with a group of chattering young ladies, and Mr Crawton’s gaze was quite fixed upon them. This was a rudeness that she would not have expected from him … until she saw that the young Miss Bloom was amongst their number. She was looking directly forward, studiously ignoring both Kitty and Crawton, but with a high colour in her cheeks that told Kitty she had in fact very much noticed them. Crawton could not take his eyes off her, even turning his head to follow the sight of her disappearing back. Kitty cleared her throat and he visibly jumped.

‘My apologies, Miss Talbot,’ he said in a rush. ‘My profuse apologies – what were we speaking of?’

‘Bedfordshire,’ she reminded him gently.

A tight furl of guilt began to gnarl in her chest – an entirely useless emotion, of course, but knowing it was useless did not seem to make it go away. Kitty reminded herself that Miss Bloom had wealth, and good birth, and – for all Kitty knew – a thousand other men she would be just as happy marrying as she would Mr Crawton. The fact that Crawton seemed to share the same affection was utterly irrelevant, and nothing to do with Kitty in the slightest.

And yet the guilt remained.

‘Nothing to report,’ she told her aunt and sister with a sigh upon their walk home. ‘Neither will say they love me yet.’

‘You cannot tarry much longer, my dear,’ Aunt Dorothy instructed. ‘Time is slipping away from us.’

‘I know that,’ Kitty said tensely. ‘It is not I who is tarrying.’

Aunt Dorothy made an unconvinced hum in the back of her throat, but before Kitty could question it, Cecily was piping up.

‘And do you love either of them?’ she asked.

‘Not this again,’ Kitty said irritably. ‘I think them both very fine gentlemen, with very fine wealth – does that satisfy?’

Cecily gave a moue of distaste.

‘That’s not love at all,’ she said, a little distressed. ‘At least I don’t believe so – what do you think, Aunt Dorothy? Have you ever been in love?’

Their aunt looked startled by the conversation’s turn.

‘Ah, just the once,’ she said. ‘Though it was a long time ago, now.’

‘What happened?’ Cecily asked soulfully.

‘We were happy for a while,’ Aunt Dorothy said slowly. ‘But then he married a young lady from his own class, and she quite naturally objected to our friendship – so that was the end of it.’

Cecily’s eyes began to shine ominously.

‘See, Cecily,’ Kitty could not help pointing out childishly. ‘Love does not always equate to happiness, you know.’