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Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to be without partners.

—Pride and Prejudice

AUGUSTUS MOTIONED KITTY toward a chair close to the window.

He sat in the seat nearest her, removed a small distance from his mother and Mrs. Gordon.

The two older women spoke like they walked—fast, and with little heed for others.

What could they possibly have that needed saying?

They’d only just been together. The women’s words tumbled out and over each other.

Could they even hear what the other was saying?

Augustus didn’t care. So long as they left him and Kitty to themselves. Too much interference from his mother would spoil his plan, and even the slightest interference was too much.

He watched Kitty settle herself into the chair, her fingers smoothing the lines of her skirt over her knees. There was a crease in her forehead, as if she had been deep in thought before she was interrupted to visit with him.

A thinker. He had not anticipated this. Perhaps he should not waste any time.

He leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Might I ask you a favor?”

She practically leaped back against her seat, as if his question had pressed her as far from him as she could be without getting up and leaving the room she’d just entered.

Part of him loved how clearly shocked she was. She didn’t know what he was going to ask, but she seemed to know she wouldn’t like it. Her obvious distaste at the very suggestion of a favor gave him hope this woman was the perfect choice.

Kitty was not looking for a husband, at least not in him.

She didn’t say a word.

Instead of clarifying what he wanted from her, Augustus gave Kitty a moment to get truly concerned. Another minute for her to get the wrong idea. And finally, he gave her his most roguish smile.

Finally, she lost any patience she had and said, “What is it you want from me?”

The note of alarm in her voice made him want to laugh, but laughing could wait.

“A partner.”

She looked shocked, then scandalized, then disgusted. Watching each emotion cross her face, he sat silently. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands casually over his stomach.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said once she found her voice.

He watched the wall behind her head and drawled, “Oh, I believe you could figure it out.”

She made the expected stammers of denial. “Mr. Haverford, I don’t even know you. I’m not likely to make an alliance with you.”

“Really? What is it you mean by alliance?”

Her face pinked in a charming way as she tried not to say the words that were so clearly on the tip of her tongue.

He stretched his legs out until his shoe touched the side of hers. “You say you don’t know me. I disagree. I think you know me quite well. Perhaps you’ve even described me to a friend.”

She shook her head. “We have been apart for less than an hour.”

Kitty no longer looked horrified. Now her face was broadcasting that particular brand of embarrassment that suggested he could see something she wished he couldn’t. Perfect.

“And if you were to explain about me to someone, how would that description begin?” he asked the ceiling.

Now Kitty’s face reddened as if the very act of listening to him caused her to feel anxious.

“Allow me to guess. A flirt. A rake. A cad. A rogue. A scoundrel. A rascal.”

The litany seemed to calm her. She raised her eyes to his face. “You seem practiced in the vocabulary of ungentlemanliness.”

He gave a slight shake of his head and lowered his voice to an even more intimate register. “I am definitely a gentleman. I may be unsuitable, unbecoming, or even unacceptable. But I am always gentle.”

The blush expanded from her face to her neck and down to the hem of her afternoon dress. Perfect. Time for a new angle of attack.

“What is it you hope to gain from your Season in London, Kitty?”

She moved her eyes to his face and away and back again as if unsure where to look. “It’s easier to explain what I have no need of—and that’s any kind of association with you.”

“I disagree. I believe we could discover a mutually beneficial partnership.” He watched the furrow between her eyebrows grow deeper. She wasn’t going to ask him for the details of his scheme. Maybe she didn’t think he was serious. It was time to prove himself to her. A small taste of gentleness.

He leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me, please. What is your hope for the next few months?”

With a sound of exasperation, she said, “All I really want is to know who I am.”

Augustus had not expected to hear that. He saw a look of surprise cross her face. Maybe she hadn’t expected to say it either. Silence fell between them, and the sounds of the older women’s chatter flowed through the room for a moment before he spoke again.

He decided to tell her the truth.

“And I wish only to be left well out of any and all discussion of marriages. This city is far too interested in seeing everyone matched up and hurried off to wedded bliss.” He hoped she heard scathing disdain in his voice, rather than any latent fear of the unknown future that lingered behind his words.

He glanced at the older women before continuing. “It may not surprise you at all that my mother has shared some information about you. Once autumn arrives, you’re not staying in the city, and chances are you won’t come back for another Season. Is my information correct?”

Was that a look of relief on her pretty face? Kitty nodded, still looking away from him.

“Very well. Is it fair to assume you’re not here in a husband-seeking capacity?”

Her eyes snapped to his. “I might be. Why would you suppose I’m not?”

Augustus performed his widest smile. “I’m eligible, and you’ve given no hint you’re interested in me.”

Kitty gave a short, cynical laugh. She spoke to the wall behind his shoulder. “And if I don’t find myself fascinated by you, I must fancy no man.”

She had a point. Her statement deserved a thoughtful answer. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment, but he didn’t think more of his shocking speech was necessary at this point. “You don’t behave like you’re on the hunt. Except perhaps for a pet fox.”

At that, he saw a sincere smile cross her face, the first he’d experienced from her.

She was completely transformed. Her reserve, expected in the presence of a man who behaved in his overly bold way, melted from her.

Her posture relaxed. The planes of her face shifted into new shapes, each complementing the other, until she appeared both completely at ease and alarmingly beautiful.

“I can’t imagine what I would do with a pet fox. Nor am I particularly interested in making a match for myself. My sole purpose in coming to town is as a companion to Mrs. Gordon.”

Augustus slapped a hand against his leg. “Very well. Then, I propose you extend your companionable powers. Mrs. Gordon shouldn’t have you all to herself. Be mine as well.”

She hesitated, her lips parted as if she was ready to speak but found nothing to say. It was an extremely charming look. “I beg your pardon. I do not understand what you’re asking. Be your what?”

He glanced across the room to be certain the older women were not listening. “My companion. Attend an evening party with me. Come for a ride in my carriage. Stand up with me at a dance.”

A shake of her head so slight that it might have been involuntary was followed by a long moment of silence.

She didn’t say no.

When he could wait no longer, he whispered, “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”

“Of course I know how to dance. The lady’s and the gentleman’s parts.”

He hid his smile by looking toward a far wall. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m attached to performing the gentleman’s part myself.”

Kitty looked into his face, searching. He didn’t know what she thought she might find there, but the moment carried on too long for his comfort.

He made a circular gesture in front of himself, if only to have some way to break their gaze. “Consider each outing an opportunity to learn about the world. And if you also discover something about yourself, you’ll reach your goal.”

His distracting hand motion did nothing to remove her eyes from his. She continued to watch him. What was she waiting for?

If she wanted to say no, she could have said it several times by now.

Kitty held up a hand, and as she spoke, counted on her fingers.

“Party. Carriage ride. Dance. I’ll need one more outing. Perhaps a family dinner.”

Her request surprised him. He thought he might need to persuade her. But a meal with his mother? The idea almost dissuaded him from the whole scheme. “I’m sure we could do better than a family dinner. You’re in the best city in the world. Allow me to introduce you to the delights of London.”

“To four of them only. That’s all I need and more than you requested.”

Something had changed in Kitty. Was it her posture? She was sitting more confidently than before. Or her tone of voice? Perhaps it was that sparkle in her eye. She did not seem to either fear or despise him, which might make this prospect easier.

Or infinitely more difficult.