Page 3

“And my aunt Philips is sure it would domea great deal of good,” added Kitty.

— Pride and Prejudice

MRS. GORDON’S ENERGIES finally flagged in the late afternoon, almost as soon as they returned to the town house.

She sprawled on the couch in a comfortable position as Kitty’s own mother often did. It gave her a sweet pang of homesickness, and she smiled at a score of memories.

“Well, that was a successful adventure. I have learned much about so many of our city neighbors. And you, Catherine? What did you think of our afternoon out?”

Wasn’t that just the question?

Kitty’s mind whirled with her recollection.

She could settle on nothing but her own social deficiency.

She needed more time to consider the upheaval in her thoughts before she bared any of the more private ones.

Instead, she pushed a smile to her lips and said, “It was most invigorating, but I feel my stockings caked in dust. Can you spare me a few moments to change them?”

It rankled Kitty that she needed to ask Mrs. Gordon’s permission to be alone, but she was the woman’s paid companion, and togetherness was Kitty’s current occupation.

Mrs. Gordon smiled, waved Kitty off, and sank deeper into the cushions. As Kitty walked from the room, she heard the woman’s happy sigh. With a bit of luck, the exhale would result in a nap and some blessed solitude.

Once seated at the small vanity table in her room, Kitty pulled off the stockings, which were not much dustier than they ever got after a day’s walk in the park. She looked into the oval glass and studied her face.

The trouble with having four sisters, she thought, is that you never truly see yourself.

Here were Jane’s eyes, Lizzy’s nose, Mary’s chin, and Lydia’s forehead. Surely some of these features reflected her parents, but Mama and Papa were so old. The sisters looked far more like each other than like their parents.

Any of her sisters would know how to respond to Mr. Augustus Haverford’s flirting.

None of them would have turned and run, clasped themselves to Mrs. Gordon’s side, and ignored him for the rest of the afternoon.

They’d each have come away champions of the moment, and each in her own way.

As a Bennet girl, Kitty should have won the day’s strange encounter with her own particular brand of charm, wisdom, and attitude.

What a shame she had none.

In all her years, she’d never truly found her own way of facing the world. She’d leaned on each of her sisters, all of whom were gifted with a particular adjective: the kind one, the witty one, the intellectual one, the fun one. Kitty was, in contrast, no one.

And now, without any of her sisters by her side, she felt like a looking glass with nothing to reflect.

Kitty Bennet: nobody.

She wondered if anyone at home missed her during her stay in the city.

She wondered if even her mother would be happy to have her back home.

Once she left a room, did anyone notice a difference?

Did she serve any purpose beyond making up a full set in a dance or sitting in the fourth chair for a card game?

She stared at her face in the glass again and wondered if this sulky-eyed young woman was who she was meant to be: Kitty, the morose one.

This would never do. She’d rather be a copy of any of her sisters than become the person she saw scowling in the mirror. Maybe that’s just what she should try.

Forcing herself to sit upright rather than slump in her seat, she shook off the lonely, solitary feeling and stood.

Pacing the bedroom, she considered how she might spend this Season discovering which of her sisters’ attitudes best suited her. If only there were a way to audition each of their most obvious traits without any risk.

She didn’t want to try on those attitudes and attributes in the ballrooms and dining halls of the Season.

What if, while performing as one of her sisters, she caught the eye of a young man and then was forced to continue playing a part for all the years of a marriage?

Fine, if it happened to be a part that suited her.

But until she had settled on a personality, she mustn’t risk it.

No. A lifetime of pretending would be dreadful.

She needed to decide which of her sisters’ traits were truly right for her.

Kitty needed a stage to act out her experimental personalities, but one with no consequences for her future.

Such a task would be easier, she knew, if she had a friend like herself—a young woman with little personality of her own.

Someone who would simply accept and reflect whatever part Kitty attempted to play.

The way Kitty had always done with her sisters.

Did another person like Kitty even exist in the kingdom?

She doubted it. Not that she was so unusual—only that she was rather invisible.

How could she try it? How could she practice?

If only she knew someone disinterested in society’s mores and obligations, someone who would not hold a strange and silly personality experiment against her. If only she knew someone who ignored social rules.

A gentle knock at her door called her attention away from this impossible imagining.

Mrs. Gordon’s housemaid, Jenny, bobbed Kitty a curtsy. “Mrs. Haverford and Mr. Augustus Haverford have come to pay a call. Your presence is requested.”

Kitty stared at the girl’s retreating back. Augustus Haverford? Here? In the house? And what did “Your presence is requested” mean? By whom? Mrs. Gordon? Augustus? Why would either of them wish her to be in the room?

In a moment, Kitty’s confusion turned to interest.

Augustus Haverford, the unapologetic rake, might be the perfect person upon whom to practice her range of possible personalities.

He certainly didn’t care for any of society’s niceties; he’d shown that by his behavior at the park earlier.

He was flirty and shocking, and he made no apology for either his words or his actions.

Kitty didn’t mind at all what a cad like him thought of her.

He might be the perfect audience for her performances.

Another glance into the mirror was followed by a flurry of straightening her dress, patting down her hair, and the quick pulling of new stockings.

She slipped her feet into shoes without much thought.

She wouldn’t put in a grand effort to look like anyone but herself because Mr. Augustus Haverford was not interested in her any more than he was interested in anyone else.

Which, if her interpretation was correct, was not at all interested.

Even so, she wasn’t going to walk into Mrs. Gordon’s drawing room appearing mussed or wrinkled or weepy. Kitty took a deep breath. Did actors on the stage feel this flutter of nerves and excitement before beginning a performance?

Which personality would she try on first?

Ought she start with the oldest? The thought rattled around in her mind before she discarded it.

Imitating Jane’s sweetness would take some preparation and thought.

Most people, Kitty knew, did not react to others the way her oldest sister did, with a gentle smile and sweet consideration.

Jane’s every response was sincere kindness.

Such a routine would require planning and practice.

Her youngest sister would be much easier to imitate since they’d spent most of their hours together for all the years of growing up.

She felt her steps lighten as she prepared to act like her fun-loving sister. A full-faced smile. Shoulders thrown back and head high. Loud laugh at the ready.

As soon as she entered the drawing room, she swallowed down the brazen grin.

She could never act like Lydia in front of Mrs. Gordon.

Especially not if her own audacious flirting would be met by Augustus Haverford’s similar shameless attitude.

The two of them would shock the ladies, and Kitty would be shut into her bedroom, possibly for the rest of the Season.

No. The performance of Lydia’s personality would have to wait. Kitty would need to choose something else for this drawing room visit.

The problem was, after the moments of planning to be brash and loud, she couldn’t think of a single trait appropriate to be witnessed by Mrs. Gordon and her visitors.

Nothing.

She stood, feet rooted to the floor, and watched as Augustus Haverford unfolded himself from his seat on Mrs. Gordon’s blue silk chair. Goodness, had he been this tall earlier today as they walked out in the park? He moved languidly across the floor and held out his hand.

“Miss Bennet. What a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

Without his overt flirting and the distractions of a public park, Augustus spoke gently. His hand, held out and waiting for hers, was large, and she was sure her fingers would disappear within his own if she allowed him to take her hand in his.

She couldn’t allow him to touch her in any way more intimate than a polite handshake. He was a rake, a cad, and a scoundrel. At least he had acted as such at their only meeting. But now he smiled gently and stood politely, waiting for her to accept his offered hand.

She had no reasonable excuse to avoid this politeness, at least not one she could easily explain to Mrs. Gordon.

Kitty stretched her hand toward Augustus without a word, and he held the tips of her fingers with the gentlest touch, stepping closer and bringing her hand to his lips.

His eyes never left hers, and she couldn’t force herself to look away.

He was terribly handsome. She’d never seen eyes like his, and his eyebrows were remarkable.

There was a lock of hair that threatened to fall down his forehead, but it hung there in place like a held breath.

Oh dear. This was not what she had anticipated.

As he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, she felt a thrill of something zip through her fingers, up her arm, and straight to her brain, addling it even further.

All thought of how any of her sisters would have reacted to such a greeting left her head. She had no idea how she ought to respond, so she simply returned his smile and said, “Hello, Mr. Haverford.”

His answering smile held a hint of danger, and Kitty knew at this rate, she would surely fail at her task. She must make a plan, and until she knew exactly how one of her sisters would respond, she must say and do nothing at all.

What could be simpler?