A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(52)
Julia linked arms with her. “Sometimes Charles can be very blind. I shall be pleased to eventually call you a sister in name, as well as in spirit.”
“He has not even admitted he loves me,” said Verity. “He is being so ridiculous that I begin to doubt he ever will. I believe he wishes Furze House to be settled as much to pack me off there as to provide Kitty with a refuge. Oh Julia, those poor women. How can anyone be treated so cruelly? I keep seeing Hannah’s huddled terrified form in my head.”
Julia looked sombre. “She brought the hot water and the morning tea at the Cattsons’ house. She was not very bright, but she was willing and enjoyed her work. Would she go to Furze House with you, do you think? Would she be content, with Kitty living there? If not, I could ask Mama to give her a place with us.”
“I don’t know. She shook when Charles spoke, as gentle as he is. She would, I think, be happier in a household of women, and happier too, back in the country.” Verity bit her lip. “So many women, Julia, all deceived. How many more might there be? I begin to be sick of London. So much glitter on the surface and misery underneath. I shall be glad to go back to Newmarket. Perhaps when I am no longer within Charles’s vision and causing him trouble every day, he will realise he misses me.”
“It is possible,” said Julia. “Men are unfathomable. It is a wonder they manage to run the world at all. I will miss you though. How am I to carry through all my intrigues without you to scold me into better behaviour?”
“You will simply have to practise restraint, Julia, or I shall return to find the hallway knee-deep in reticules and the street outside littered with the decaying remains of baronets and officers of His Majesty’s army.”
Julia considered this. “It’s not an unattractive prospect...”
Charles made polite conversation after Julia and Verity left them. Scanning ahead, he appreciated the reason for Captain Eastwick choosing Piccadilly as a meeting place. All along the road were gentlemen lounging in doorways or standing idly passing the time in knots of two or three.
“There is Papa,” said Kitty to Ann. And to Charles, “He is in front of Savory and Moore, which strikes me as appropriate. There have been times when I have been tempted to go in and buy up their entire stock of laudanum.” She took a shallow breath. “But no more.”
“He is talking to Freddy,” observed the child. “Freddy is a fast runner, isn’t he? I saw him when we came out of Grandmama’s house.”
“That is not her own house, Ann. She is staying there with a friend. Now remember, you are not to mention anything of our conversation today, except that you helped her sort out her pretty silks and ate a great many bonbons.”
“No, Mama.”
Charles felt a surge of fury at the pinched, adult look on Kitty’s daughter’s face. Children of six should be happy and laughing, not old before their time. “Will you introduce me?” he said abruptly.
“Certainly,” replied Kitty. As they drew level with the chemist’s shop, she stood a little taller and said in a cool, social voice. “There you are, Simon. I wondered if we might see you on our way back. Mr Congreve, might I introduce my husband, Captain Eastwick? Simon, Mr Congreve is the attorney I told you of who is overseeing my sister’s legacy. He is returning to the Temple and very kindly offered to escort us along part of our way.”
“Enchanted,” murmured Charles, managing to sound polite, but harried. “I daresay I will see you again if you are visiting in Grosvenor Street while I am there.” He nodded to Eastwick. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You will forgive me hurrying off. I have a great many things to attend to, which Miss Bowman’s affairs are unfortunately taking precedence over.”
He resolutely did not look back over his shoulder to see how Eastwick comported himself with his wife, but made his way to his chambers with all despatch. He needed to send a note to Nicholas Dacre, and had also to think up a plan to accidentally meet and distract Eastwick for long enough that Nick might get Kitty safely away. If the man habitually lounged along Piccadilly looking for prey, this might be easier than he had previously thought. On the edge of his consciousness was that earlier, as Julia and Verity had turned to go, Julia had reminded him not to be late to dine. He hadn’t the remotest notion why. It was Verity’s fault, she was invading his every thought and turning him into a tattered semblance of his previously organised self. The sooner she was safely in Newmarket the better. Then he might regain his acceptance of his chosen lot. He determined there and then that if he was engaged to escort them somewhere tonight, he would confine his dealings with her to polite conversation only.
On turning into the building where his chambers were situated, he was so lost in deliberations as to how to achieve this impossible resolve that he ran into a large gentleman striding through the archway just ahead of him.
“Adam!” he cried, belatedly recognising his friend. “By all that’s wonderful. I believe you are the very man I need.”
Adam Prettyman grinned. “That’s flattering. You won’t say it when you know my purpose. Jenny has entrusted me with a great long list of household linen that I am to purchase while I am signing these new leases we discussed.”
Charles waved this away as an irrelevancy. “Verity and Julia have been buying little else for days. We can recruit them to the cause. You, however... How do you fancy reviving your thespian arts and playing a naive country fellow with money in his pocket? There is a certain card-sharp of my acquaintance who would be delighted to relieve you of it.”