A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(75)

‘You are angry with me, and just trying to cause a nuisance,’ she dismissed. ‘Do you think I would not notice if my sister were in love?’

‘Do you think I would not notice if my brother were in danger?’ he returned, pointedly.

They glared at one another, eyes as cold as they had ever been in each other’s presence.

‘Do you know,’ she said, words hot on her tongue, ‘when we first met I thought you proud, stubborn, rude and with a sense of superiority the size of England. I had almost begun to think I had misjudged you – but I see now I should have trusted my first instinct.’

‘The feeling,’ he said coldly, ‘is quite mutual.’

They turned as one and walked away. Neither looked back.





31


Lord Radcliffe left the ball in a rage, not bothering to bid goodnight to the host or his mother. He flung himself down the front steps so fast that he ran into Captain Hinsley, who was only just arriving.

‘James, slow down – what on earth is the matter?’ Hinsley asked, looking concerned.

‘Nothing,’ Radcliffe bit out. He tried to walk on, but Hinsley gripped his arm.

‘Nothing? You’re quite shaking with rage, let me accompany you home,’ he commanded, turning to walk his friend down the path. Radcliffe attempted to shake him off, but Hinsley had his arm caught fast.

‘I’m quite capable of reaching home without a chaperone, Harry,’ Radcliffe said, voice dark with warning.

‘Of course you are,’ Hinsley said soothingly – and clearly with no intention of listening to him. He hurried into the carriage after Radcliffe, seating himself opposite his friend with watchful eyes.

‘What has you all at odds then?’ he asked again.

‘I-I got into an argument with Miss Talbot,’ Radcliffe admitted at last. ‘It started off about – about one thing, but then it led on to discussing Archie. She made a ridiculous accusation that Archie has fallen into a bad crowd – that I am so blinded by how my father treated my dalliances as a boy, that I cannot see what is right in front of me. She’s wrong.’

But Hinsley’s brow was furrowed. ‘Who’s the boy become friendly with, that’s worried her so?’

‘Lord Selbourne and his set,’ Radcliffe said impatiently. ‘But you’re quite missing the point, Harry—’

‘Selbourne? I do not like that much at all, James. You haven’t been in London for a while, dear boy – old Selby has quite the reputation now.’

‘Selbourne? He’s harmless. Why, I used to be very closely acquainted with the man – certainly fond of gambling and drinking, but not dangerous.’

Hinsley looked unconvinced. ‘From what I’ve heard, it’s a bit more than that. I’ll look into it – see if I can find anything out.’

‘I beg you – do not,’ Radcliffe snapped. ‘There is nothing to find out. Archie is not in trouble, and I would thank everyone to stop giving me unasked for advice.’

‘What if he is, though?’ Hinsley asked, not seeming to take offence at his friend’s tone. ‘Both she and I think something smoky is afoot – worth looking into, I say.’

‘My father dealt in “what ifs”,’ Radcliffe said. ‘I will not do the same kind of interfering for Archie. It does not make you a bad person to want to have a little fun, for God’s sake. Archie should be able to live and make mistakes and grow up unfettered by worries of duty and gossip.’

Hinsley held up his hands in surrender. ‘All right, all right,’ he said, looking at his friend closely. ‘What else did you and Miss Talbot argue about?’ he asked shrewdly.

‘It matters nought,’ Radcliffe said shortly. ‘I have tarried in London too long. Far too long – I shall leave for Radcliffe Hall tomorrow.’ They drew up upon St James’s Place and Radcliffe opened the carriage door immediately, without waiting for a footman. ‘This is goodbye, Hinsley. I shall write.’

And with that he walked into his house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Kitty held her emotions in all the way through the ball, through dancing a quadrille, three country dances and a cotillion; through two glasses of champagne; through the carriage ride home; through getting into bed. It was only when Cecily had begun softly snoring beside her that she let the sob that had been lodged in her throat for several hours spill quietly out into the night, like a secret.

It was so unfair, so very unfair. What an awful man. What a prejudiced, privileged, awful man. She hated him – she wished never to set eyes upon him or another de Lacy in her life.

She tossed and turned through the night, unable to cool her temper enough to sleep, but by morning, the dawn had brought her a little calm. She rose before Cecily, and busied herself about their room, opening the trunk that had lain unused underneath the window since their arrival, and folding some of their belongings inside it. There was a groan and rustle behind her as Cecily began to wake.

‘What are you doing?’ she said blearily, as Kitty packed up her least favourite evening dress – there would surely be no need for it after tonight.

‘Just a little packing,’ she murmured absently. ‘I hate leaving things to the last minute.’

‘Packing?’ Cecily sat up straight. ‘Where are we going?’