A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(87)

Cecily smiled, recognising this for the olive branch it was. The next day, the skies were dry and they saw much, Cecily ticking off all the London sights she had most wanted to visit. They started with the Marbles, again, and then walked almost the whole length of the British Museum, gazing at its artefacts. They spent some time browsing the shelves in the library, before finding themselves at Astley’s Amphitheatre for the rest of the afternoon. Cecily was a little disappointed to find that the Physic Garden was closed for the day, but was appeased when Kitty promised they could come back tomorrow.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘We have time, still,’ Kitty nodded. She took in a deep breath of the warm summer air. ‘Isn’t London beautiful, today?’

‘“Earth has not any thing to show more fair,”’ quoted Cecily.

‘Just so,’ Kitty agreed.

They returned to Wimpole Street only as the light was fading to ready themselves for the evening. There they found Aunt Dorothy, calmly sipping tea in the parlour.

‘Well,’ she said, eyeing them critically. ‘Sally tells me you had an exciting weekend – though all was resolved, I take it, to satisfaction?’

Kitty was glad that Sally had not been able to keep the news to herself, for it saved her from having to break the whole story to her aunt. Though Aunt Dorothy was not looking nearly so disapproving as Kitty would have expected. On the contrary, a little smile was playing around her mouth and a pleased flush was visible on her cheeks.

‘Yes, we were lucky in the end,’ Kitty agreed, eyeing Aunt Dorothy carefully. ‘How was Kent?’

‘Not without excitement, itself,’ Aunt Dorothy said. She set down her cup with a clink. ‘In fact, my girls, I have a little news of my own. I am now married.’

She held out her hand, where a wedding ring was now glinting on her finger. Cecily let out a gasp and Kitty’s brows shot up.

‘Married?’ Kitty asked incredulously. ‘When? And to who?’

‘Whom, my dear,’ Aunt Dorothy corrected primly. ‘To Mr Fletcher, yesterday.’

‘Are you meaning to tell me that you eloped?’ Kitty said faintly. Was she the only one of them not to try for a clandestine wedding last night?

Aunt Dorothy clicked her tongue in remonstration. ‘Foolish child, of course not. An elopement is a young woman’s game and quite unnecessary in this instance. Mr Fletcher arranged a special licence, and we married in his mother’s church upon Saturday afternoon – all very much above board.’

There was a pause while her nieces stared at her, utterly thrown by the announcement.

‘I should have liked you both to attend, of course,’ Aunt Dorothy said apologetically. ‘But I didn’t want to distract Kitty from Pemberton. And, well, neither I nor Mr Fletcher felt much like waiting any longer.’

‘Any longer?’ Kitty repeated, feeling much like a parrot. ‘Aunt, how long has this been going on?’

‘Years, I suppose.’ Aunt Dorothy was smiling again. ‘We were acquainted long ago – it was Mr Fletcher who I spoke about that day in the park, if you remember. He is a widower now and recognised me just as soon as we spoke at the Montagu ball. I did tell you that might happen, my dear, though I cannot be at all cross about it – for we have been courting ever since.’

Kitty digested this with considerable effort, not at all sure how she felt. Foolish, certainly, that both her sister and aunt had been busy with their own love affairs for weeks – without Kitty noticing or suspecting a thing – but that was easily overcome. She’d become so used to Aunt Dorothy being theirs these last few months. The idea of Mr Fletcher taking her away from them … it made Kitty feel a little odd.

‘Congratulations, Aunt,’ Cecily said, walking over to kiss her upon the cheek.

‘Kitty?’ Aunt Dorothy said questioningly.

Kitty shook herself – now was not the time for jealousy. After all their aunt had done for them – for two young ladies who were, in truth, no relation at all – she deserved every ounce of joy the world could offer her. Kitty embraced her, a lump lodged firmly in her throat.

‘I am so very happy for you,’ she said hoarsely.

Aunt Dorothy whisked a stray tear away from her eye.

‘Darling girls,’ she said, clasping their hands and squeezing them. Then, with a decisive nod, she stood.

‘We must get ready for the evening, now,’ she said, clapping her hands. Then, with a roguish wink, added, ‘After all, it would not do for mine to be the only wedding of the Season.’





37


There was an air of finality to the silence in which they travelled across London that night – without speaking, all knew that this was likely to be their very last London ball. Whatever happened this evening, Kitty and Cecily would be returning home to their sisters, very soon. The carriage drew up to the entrance. Kitty remembered with a pang how wonderful, how strange, it had all seemed to her that first night. The memory flashed across her mind like fireworks – seeing the candles, the sea of colourful dresses and bright jewels, the taste of champagne, the warmth of Radcliffe’s hand in hers.

‘We have had quite the time, haven’t we?’ she said to Cecily, in the quiet.

‘The best,’ Cecily agreed.

They descended once more into the fray.