A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(89)

‘I think I am quite a different person, now,’ he continued, eyes not leaving hers for a second, ‘for having met you and … I like who I am, who I have become, around you.’

Kitty’s fingers tightened in his. Every word he uttered was like a strike of lightning straight to the chest, fierce and unrelenting – she was not sure she could bear this, bear hearing him say such things to her, if it did not change anything.

‘You asked me once,’ Radcliffe went on, gaze fixed intently on hers, his voice hoarse, ‘whether your birth would matter if your feelings were true. I didn’t answer you then, but Miss Talbot – Kitty. You must know that it does not matter to me any more.’

She sucked in a breath that felt more like a sob. ‘It doesn’t?’ she asked. The music was rising around them, the dance almost at an end. They spun into one final turn, losing sight of one another for one breathless moment, before he pulled her back into the circle of his arms.

‘No,’ he said.

The music stopped. The dancers curtsied and bowed to one another. Kitty stepped back blinking – Radcliffe’s hands lingered upon her as though he did not want to let go, and the room felt colder once he had. She clapped, still feeling stunned – and then she spotted the unwelcome visage of Mr Pemberton behind Radcliffe, approaching rapidly, his face grim.

‘Quick,’ she said to Radcliffe. ‘Let us take a turn in the garden, before—’

‘Before what?’ he asked, offering his arm nonetheless.

‘Nothing,’ she said, but she was unable to resist another glance over his shoulder at Pemberton, and Radcliffe caught it. They hastened towards the garden doors, and were lucky enough to find it empty, lit only by the stars and the candlelight streaming from the windows. As soon as the fresh air hit them, Radcliffe stepped back.

‘Have you not— Are you still expecting a proposal from Mr Pemberton?’ he asked her, his even voice not quite able to hide the hurt within. Her heart ached to see it. Why had Pemberton chosen that moment to appear, why … She could lie, but she found she did not want to.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am.’

He turned to face the garden for a moment, as if to gather himself. ‘Right. I own, I confess I thought you might have called things off, since the other night. But I see that was foolish of me.’

His eyes were colder now, as he turned back to face her. ‘May I ask if you are planning to accept his offer of marriage?’

‘My lord,’ she began, voice shaking. ‘Nothing of my situation has changed. I still need to leave London with a rich man as my fiancé, or I will have to sell the only home my sisters have ever known, and find some other way of supporting them, all by myself. I thought … I had thought that this no longer mattered to you.’ She waved a hand towards the ballroom, as if to encompass all that he had confessed within.

‘I did – it doesn’t,’ he said, running a hand over his face. ‘But to find you about to accept another man’s proposal is— I do not like it.’

‘I don’t know what you want from me then,’ she cried, casting out her arms. ‘For I cannot make my situation any different. I must marry. And so far, I have no promises.’

He would not look at her.

‘Ask me then,’ she said, voice raw, ‘ask me if I should like, if I should want to marry Pemberton, were the choice only about me?’

He looked up. ‘Would you?’

‘No,’ she said, voice cracking. ‘Now ask me, whether I should still love you, were the choice only mine to make?’

He took a step forward. ‘Would you?’ he said again.

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘I will always choose my sisters. I will choose their need more than my want every day. But I want you just as much as I need money. You see me, in my entirety – the worst and the best of me – as no one else ever has.’

She stared at him, full in the face – without artifice or pretence, her face open and full of emotion. He was closer now. Close enough to reach up and touch her cheek with light, careful fingers.

‘Would you – would you like to marry me, Kitty?’ Lord Radcliffe – James – asked, voice like gravel.

She gave a helpless little laugh at the absurdity of the question – as if he did not know.

‘I would,’ she said. ‘But first, I feel I must inform you that I come with four sisters, a badly leaking roof, and a veritable ocean of debt.’

He had started to smile now, and once begun it did not seem to stop, overtaking his whole face.

‘I thank you for your honesty,’ he said cordially, and she laughed. ‘May I reassure you that I am desperate to meet your other sisters, the roof sounds charmingly rustic, and the debt does not faze me.’ He paused. ‘Of course, I understand that you will need to see my accounts before committing yourself,’ he went on, and she laughed again, loud and bright.

‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ she said. ‘As long as you can promise you’re absurdly rich and you’ll pay off all my family’s debts.’

‘I am absurdly rich,’ he repeated. ‘And I will pay off all your family’s debts.’

‘Why then by all means,’ she said, grinning up at him, ‘I would indeed like to marry you.’