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“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty, fretfully.

— Pride and Prejudice

KITTY HAD NEVER wished so fervently for rain.

“Catherine, my girl, it is time. We must walk out now. Do not make me wait.” Mrs. Gordon’s voice preceded her into the parlor of her townhouse.

Kitty stood near the settee and waited for the woman.

It would make no difference if she was at the front door with her hand on the knob, ready to open it to the sights and sounds and smells of the city.

Mrs. Gordon loved to tell Kitty to hurry, even when there was no need.

When the woman bustled in, Kitty stood, her smile firm, if insincere.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Gordon.”

She may as well have said nothing because the woman continued to speak over her.

“The Haverfords will meet us at the park, and they’ll doubtless have news to share about the Fredericksons’ visit.”

Kitty knew by now, after three weeks with Mrs. Gordon in London, it hardly mattered who they were meeting in the park.

Every day was the same. Kitty would accompany Mrs. Gordon to Hyde Park where they would rush through the walking crowds beside the carriages on Rotten Row, Mrs. Gordon pointing out important people as she noticed them.

Before long, Mrs. Gordon would find the friend of the day. As soon as the woman met up with that day’s contact, Kitty would be relegated to walking with the friend’s daughter or maid or companion. The daughters talked too little. The maids, too much.

This habit of walking in the city felt completely different from a day’s walk into Meryton with her sisters, although it had been three years since she and her sisters had all been together for such a walk.

Back in the days when they all lived at home, with a fond hope of seeing some officers, Kitty and her sisters could walk all day without feeling any effects but joy and excitement.

These days held nothing like those emotions from her past. There was no thrill for Kitty Bennet in the London parks.

Only relentless sunshine and loneliness.

And yet the strolls with Mrs. Gordon continued.

Mrs. Gordon made clicking noises with her tongue as her lady’s maid laced up her walking boots. She sounded like a clock marking off the seconds before her outing could begin.

Mrs. Gordon was a great walker. She could go for miles holding the arm of one London lady or another, heedless of Kitty’s boredom.

And for good reason. Kitty was not in London to be entertained.

She was there as a companion for Mrs. Gordon, a friend of her aunt’s, to spend all her time with the woman and serve at her whims. Little more than a paid servant, Kitty was starting to understand.

But she was glad to be in the city, even if it held few pleasures for her.

This time would be a memory she could look back on in later years.

The late spring air was whisper-light on Kitty’s cheeks as they left the town house and walked toward the park.

Every day for two weeks, the weather had been perfect.

Fourteen days of sunshine and warmth. Not a single afternoon shower that might allow Kitty an hour inside alone.

Kitty didn’t know what to think of so many pleasant sunny days in a row, but she was beginning to suspect it was punishment for her silly behavior throughout her teenage years.

Seventeen-year-old Kitty would have been thrilled at the idea of wandering through the park every day, smiling at handsome men and giggling with her sisters.

Twenty-year-old Kitty found it all rather exhausting.

Mrs. Gordon pulled her across the street by her arm, and Kitty smiled and nodded at the woman’s description of the carriage they’d just seen.

“That lavender curtain is the strangest color. Who would choose to decorate with such a terrible shade?”

Kitty looked down at her dress, made of a soft floral in almost the exact same color. Was it such an awful color? She liked it. Or she had liked it until this moment.

Mrs. Gordon had a talent for making Kitty question herself.

But, of course, Kitty was smart enough to be grateful.

Spending the Season in London was a wonderful opportunity, a chance none of Kitty’s sisters had ever been gifted.

Their father had no interest in the city, and so he’d never brought the family.

After a few weeks walking between Mrs. Gordon’s house and the park, Kitty understood his indifference.

Yes, the park was nice, but so was her home.

A group of women moved slowly along the sidewalk, and Mrs. Gordon bustled up behind them, pulling Kitty along in her wake. When the women turned out to be no one Mrs. Gordon knew, she and Kitty hustled around them with a brisk nod.

What, Kitty wondered, was the hurry?

Kitty often wondered this. Mrs. Gordon had a single speed, and nothing seemed to slow her down except sleep.

Once their feet were firmly on the walking path, Mrs. Gordon took Kitty’s arm and narrated every passerby at a whisper.

Lady So-and-So, whose town house was in a more fashionable neighborhood than Mrs. Gordon’s own.

Mrs. Whatsit, who stayed in a street nobody wished to pass by, much less live in.

Nods to those above her station, nods to those below.

To the people she knew well, Mrs. Gordon would give a warm smile and a cheerful hello, but she did not stop.

This stroll in the park had a purpose, and the purpose was to meet with Mrs. Haverford and whichever daughter or maid she chose to accompany her.

Maybe today, the daughter would be interesting. Or at least politely chatty.

If so, she would be the first of the park-met daughters to be so. None of the daughters of Mrs. Gordon’s friends seemed to have any interest in a decent conversation with Kitty. Or maybe she was the one who was incapable of holding a discussion.

Kitty watched a fox streak across a small grassy section of parkland and into a stand of bushes.

Seeing a fox at home was nothing out of the ordinary; there was a den under the stone wall on one side of her parents’ property.

But here, the streets were full of carriages.

There were no vast meadows outside the city parks.

How did foxes get into London? And why did they stay?

She stifled the temptation to run after the fox, find its den, look for newborn kits. This would not be proper park behavior. Mrs. Gordon would not understand. And Kitty had no wish to try to explain herself.

Midway through their circuit of the park, Kitty heard a high-pitched singsong voice.

“Oooh, hello.”

A woman in a voluminous pink dress waved her arms. A group of several people walked with her, but none of the others offered such an eager welcome.

Mrs. Gordon raised a hand in reply and spoke to Kitty from the corner of her mouth.

“That is Mrs. Haverford. She does tend to make a scene, but she knows absolutely everyone. Quite delightful company.”

Mrs. Haverford walked nearly as fast as Mrs. Gordon, so the groups met in only a moment.

Mrs. Gordon released Kitty’s arm and took Mrs. Haverford’s instead.

Some fluttering accompanied the greeting, and with minimal fuss, the whole company was turned to walk in the direction Kitty and Mrs. Gordon had just come from.

In no hurry to connect herself to a daughter or maid, Kitty allowed herself to fall to the back of the pack. Passing the stand of bushes, she watched the leaves for another sighting of the fox.

In her concentration, she fell farther from the quick-moving leaders. Not a nose poked from the shrubbery, but Kitty continued to slow as she stared.

A deep voice startled her from her contemplation.

“Considering running away?”

Kitty spun around to see a young man in a neatly pressed day coat, his cravat in perfect order, a silk handkerchief in his breast pocket. His dark hair was brushed fashionably back from his forehead, drawing attention to thick eyebrows over deep brown eyes.

His mouth quirked into half a smile as though he shared a joke with her, or perhaps made one at her expense.

“I doubt you’ll find a comfortable situation there in the shrubbery.

If you’d care for a seat, I’ll look out for a convenient bench.

Unless, of course, you’d prefer to sit on my knee.

In that case, I’d happily find a place for the two of us to get to know each other.

On second thought, maybe the shrubbery is perfect. ”

What in the world? Did he mean what she thought he meant?

If so, this man was one to avoid. His words signaled a bad actor.

Not to mention his approach. He spoke to her without an introduction.

But Kitty didn’t want to make a scene. Perhaps he was actually only offering her a place to rest. It was a strange offer, but she didn’t know him. Maybe he was sincere.

Kitty wished she were the kind of girl who had quick, witty replies at the ready. One of her sisters was practically famous for such wit. Kitty, however, spluttered a few words before saying, “I don’t need a seat. I’m hunting a fox.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how foolish they sounded. “Not hunting, of course. Stalking. I mean, watching. Looking.” Her words poured out of her like water from a pitcher, and she placed a hand over her mouth to stop the cascade.

The man watched her with that same half smile on his face, one of those rather magnificent eyebrows perched slightly higher on his forehead than the other.

She felt her cheeks heat and kept her hands over her mouth, suppressing any further foolish words.

With an incline of his upper body, the man leaned closer and whispered, “I rather prefer a woman on the hunt.”

Kitty gasped at the brazenness of this stranger. She’d been right. He was a cad. And she had absolutely no idea what to say to him. How should she respond so he understood she was not the type to be taken in?

“I am no such thing, sir.”

His smile only increased. A very fine smile, if a bit dangerous-looking. Wicked, that’s what he was. She took another careful look at his handsome face before she ran to catch up with Mrs. Gordon and her companions.