A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(7)
Verity nodded, and now she was not smiling at all. “Do you know Reverend Milsom? No? You are lucky. He has pale, fervent eyes, an encroaching disposition and an unrelenting conviction that he is the only way to salvation. He was most persistent about suggesting private prayer sessions if Mama was finding it a struggle adjusting to widowhood, until I artlessly mentioned that she only had the use of her pension and this house whilst she remained a widow and would lose both if she remarried. His visits have now become satisfyingly infrequent and I would like to remove her from Kennet End before some gossipy person spreads the word about my uncle’s annuity.”
Charles regarded her with exasperation. Not only was there was nothing more likely in a country neighbourhood, it was almost the one circumstance that would reconcile him to their transition to town. “For someone who claims to hardly stir from the house, you have a profound knowledge of human nature,” he said, sounding huffy even to his own ears.
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to tell me what is it you really want to do in London?”
Instead of answering at once, Verity put her head on one side and studied him, as if weighing him up. It was oddly disconcerting. “I am going to look for Kitty,” she said.
It was the last thing he had expected. Charles was taken aback, both by the statement and her air of quiet determination. “Kitty? Your half-sister? Is she missing then?”
“I do not know. After she eloped - for which I really cannot blame her, considering how vital and good-humoured Captain Eastwick was, compared to the dry-bones Papa intended marrying her to - Papa refused to have her name mentioned at home. He didn’t make the least push to follow them, and he forbade anyone to read her letters, should she send any. I miss her, Charles. I loved Kitty very much. I want to know where she is. I want to know she is happy.”
Charles wrinkled his brow, trying to recall the facts. “Captain Eastwick... was he a serving soldier? Suppose he is stationed somewhere distant?”
“I believe he had been injured in Spain and was already invalided out of the army when he came to Newmarket, but if that is not the case, then I can write to her. You will know how to discover the regiment. I think, though, that Kitty is in London.”
“But, Verity, it’s been years, surely?”
“Seven. I know it seems unlikely, but when we were at St George’s for John and Selina’s wedding, I thought I glimpsed her on the pavement amongst the other people. I promise it was not because I was looking for her, because I had no idea she might be there.”
Whatever else his least welcome client was, she was not fanciful. He tried to push away the feeling of foreboding that, for good or ill, he was about to become embroiled in one of Verity’s schemes again. “You had better tell me,” he said heavily.
Verity beamed at him. “You know that there are always people gathered outside a church, out of curiosity or just to see the wedding finery? I was looking around after we came out, because anything was better than the smugness on Selina’s face as she accepted congratulations, and I saw Kitty. She was watchful and still, the way I have sometimes seen her, and she had a small girl by the hand. I was sure it was her. But she disappeared. I scribbled our direction on a page torn from my pocketbook and tucked it into the palings where she had been standing and I thought perhaps she would contact me, but she never did.”
“The woman you saw was most likely a cut-purse, ready to take her chance with a distracted wedding party. I am afraid I see many such instances during the course of my work.”
She shrugged helplessly. “Maybe so, but I cannot not try, can I? She looked, I don’t know, thin.”
Thin. Charles said slowly, “Have you thought that perhaps the elopement was not everything Kitty had hoped for? Some men, especially if the woman is unhappy at home and supposes herself in love, can be very persuasive.”
“Do you mean she may not be married at all?” Verity bit her lip. “Then even more must I tell her Papa is dead and she can come back and live with me and Mama. And the child too, if it is hers.”
“Even if, in the eyes of society, she is ruined? That will reflect on you and your mother. Your chances of making a good match would be virtually nil.”
“Charles, she is my sister. Mama brought her up as a daughter and still grieves for her loss. How should I care for my reputation if Kitty is in need?”
“John might have something to say on that head.”
“John always has something to say. The dower house is Mama’s for life so long as she remains unwed. Kitty can live with us until we find somewhere else. And if it effectively disposes of Reverend Milsom’s advances on Mama, so much the better. Will you help me?”
Charles raised his eyes briefly heavenwards. She already knew he would help. Mr Tweedie might depend on him to do the right thing, but Charles never had been able to resist Verity. It was one reason he had not wanted this commission. He sighed. “We will go to London and I will put you in the way of an investigative agent I have used before,” he said. “More than that, I cannot promise.”
“Thank you.” She peeped up at him. “Is this rational behaviour?”
The carriage had turned in at Rooke Hall. Verity’s timing was faultless. Charles felt a momentary relief that there was nothing more she could ambush him with. He smiled. “In my eyes it is.”