Page 7

“I am sorry to hearthat.”

— Pride and Prejudice

SORRY, MARY, KITTY thought the moment she dismissed her middle sister’s overbearingly righteous personality as impossible.

Even with the preparations she’d made, including transcribing phrases and sentences and entire paragraphs from her sister’s letters, Kitty was not a good enough actress to attempt to mean any of the words she said.

Mary herself was probably sincere, but such stuffy language without any of its accompanying conviction was more than Kitty could bear. She was glad Augustus made it clear he couldn’t bear it either.

Her relief was palpable; she felt it in her shoulders immediately. The release of stiffness gave her a moment to sit with Augustus without the concern of appearing physically, morally, and emotionally upright.

She felt like laughing again. Honestly, she felt like singing, but the thought of settling herself at the piano, unprepared and under-talented, was entirely too much like something Mary would do. Instead, she let the notebook slide from her lap to the floor, kicking it beneath her chair.

“I’m sorry about that.” She didn’t want to say any more about the past few minutes.

How could she begin to explain Mary without giving Augustus the idea that she was horrible company?

In truth, she was occasionally difficult to keep company with, but Kitty loved her anyway.

She wasn’t sure she could communicate exactly why.

For the moment, she didn’t wish Augustus to carry the memory of her being insufferable. She didn’t have anything interesting to tell him, but maybe he’d be happy to do the talking. “You mentioned the Langleys’ dinner. Was it amusing? Or, in place of that, was it delicious?”

He turned his attention from the bland painting over her shoulder to her face. If he didn’t actually smile, his features at least relaxed. He watched her for a minute, possibly wondering if she was going to break into another moralizing session.

She felt an easy smile form on her lips.

The expression was another relief. She didn’t have to hold a serious, studious appearance any longer.

Asking questions was easy, as long as Augustus would take time to answer.

And she needed him to answer. Kitty had no other personality prepared for the day.

She had no idea how brief Mary’s reign would be.

Augustus gave her an answering smile. “Do you want me to list the dishes served? Make note of the excellence of the roast or the vegetables?”

Kitty placed an elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist. She understood this was not an elegant posture, but it was relaxing, and she felt she deserved a bit of relaxation after her meticulous performance as her sister at her insufferable worst.

“I don’t think I need to hear about the menu. Not unless the meal was particularly remarkable.”

“I can always make remarks, but none of them would be worth hearing. Neither, come to that, was much of the conversation at the table. I was hoping to hear a story of adventure or a bit of town gossip, but nobody had anything of note to share, at least not in my presence.”

Kitty made a sound like a hum. “Sounds like you attended the wrong dinner. All the interesting people were eating elsewhere.”

He nodded. “Or else, when they had something scandalous to say, it was about me. Maybe they simply chose to tell their stories far from where I was seated.”

“Are you such an outrage as all that, then?” As soon as the words left her lips, Kitty wished to pull them back.

Her interest in Augustus Haverford was purely as an audience for her to try on her array of characters.

She didn’t need to know his bad habits. She had enough of an idea about him and his scandalous history to last her the whole London Season.

His response was not what she expected. He blushed. Actually reddened in his face. The effect was surprising—now he looked younger than he appeared wearing his smirk and swinging his cane. He jerked his chair away from the table as if he wanted to create a bit more space between them.

She watched him as he rearranged himself in his chair, intentionally slack and casual as if he was a bit bored by the conversation, every aspect of his usual expression settling itself back on his face.

First the eyes, narrowing into that haughty squint.

Next, he tilted his head just so to the side, the way he did when he was teasing or flirting.

Finally, his mouth curled into the familiar smirk of superiority and amusement at the foolishness of the rest of the world.

“If I’m doing my work of the Season correctly, I am precisely the outrage the women of London fear.”

Kitty couldn’t hold back a smile. “Do you mean fear as in ‘I fear the roast chicken is overcooked,’ or actual fear?”

“I suppose that depends on what you mean by actual fear.” He still wore the smirk, but it didn’t worry her.

It seemed like he meant to instill some kind of frightened feeling in her, but she was almost sure he was all bluster.

He was a guest in Mrs. Gordon’s home, and so he wouldn’t behave terribly when there was a chance Mrs. Gordon could walk in at any moment.

Besides, Kitty knew she was the one who chose to continue this conversation. He was not pressing his company upon her. When she thought about it honestly, she knew she was hoping to amuse him just a bit. It was possible his smirk was a reflection of true enjoyment.

“Oh,” she said, twisting a loose lock of hair around her finger. “I’m sure you can think of the things most people are afraid of. Rampaging wildlife, destitution, dangerous ocean currents. Things like that.”

He made a humming sound as he nodded. “I see. Or boring Sunday sermons. Tedious dinner company. Long walks in bad weather.”

Kitty shook her head, still relaxed and smiling.

“I’m not afraid of any of those things. In fact, much of my childhood included days full of all three of your supposed fears.

I’m adept at either ignoring or escaping them all.

Except the long walks in bad weather. I’d never miss a chance to wander outside in the rain, hair streaming water and my shoes thick with mud. That’s one of my favorite things.”

It was only when she realized Augustus was staring at her that Kitty understood the mistake she’d made. She’d forgotten to adopt the attitude of any of her sisters. She’d spoken plainly, and his reaction was clear. He was obviously amazed that anyone would be so foolish. So boring. So ordinary.

She needed to change the subject immediately. And she needed him to be the one to talk.

“You mentioned being disappointed at the Langleys’ dinner last evening. Has there been a function you particularly enjoyed recently?”

Please , she thought. Please, please, please talk until I can figure out how to be clever like Lizzy.

“Tell me, do you enjoy the ballet?”

That was no kind of answer to her question. “I’ve never attended. But I always liked dancing.”

“Are you a trained dancer, then? A preparation in case you need to earn your fortune?” Augustus must be teasing her, surely. No one would suggest such a thing in a serious way. Dancers were even less proper than singers or stage actors, their lives on display. Not to mention their legs.

“Of course not. My parents couldn’t even bother to get us a governess; they certainly weren’t about to arrange lessons for something as scandalous as ballet.”

“Is it such a disgrace? To be a performer?”

Kitty wondered what each of her sisters might say to such a question. Augustus didn’t seem like he was testing her, merely making conversation.

“I suppose it depends on your family’s expectations.”

“And what are your family’s expectations?”

“When it comes to performers, I suppose they hope I stay in the audience seats and far away from the indelicate lifestyles of the players themselves.”

“Have you met many actors? Opera singers? Ballet dancers?”

What was he suggesting? Did he think there was something indecent in her behavior or her connections? That she would connect herself with people whose lives were on such display? “Of course not.”

He brought a hand to his face and ran his fingers along the edge of his jaw. “You’re in London now. There’s not a better city in which to acquaint yourself with artists of all kinds.”

“Are you suggesting you are in a position to introduce me to dancers and singers and actors?” Kitty felt a thrill run up her spine, but she wasn’t sure if it was a shudder of excitement or fear.

Augustus tilted his head from left to right, as if he didn’t much mind one way or the other about the level of respectability of his connections. “If you are interested in seeking associates who are involved in the arts, I might be able to connect you.”

The arts . That certainly sounded more impressive and proper than speaking about performers in the dismissive, derisive way her parents might.

And what a thrill. None of her sisters knew anyone in the arts.

“Do you know, I believe I might be interested in exactly such an introduction.”

“Is that so?” His words drew out long and slow. He held her gaze. He seemed to be able to see beyond her face. Not through her but inside her. She’d never been looked at like this before. Not by anyone.

Her nod was small, but he noticed it and returned a nod of his own.

Kitty watched the smile stretch across his face and felt herself blush.

Should she look away like one sister might?

Laugh at him like another sister would? With that gaze and that smile, Augustus was turning what was probably an innocent conversation into something thrumming with feeling.

She didn’t know what the situation deserved, but she didn’t feel up to playing a part for the moment.

She simply maintained his eye contact and waited.

Moments felt like hours as they watched each other smile.

At last, there was a clatter from the nearby stairway. Mrs. Gordon was making her way to the sitting room.

Augustus straightened and turned his chair slightly away from Kitty.

“Very well. I will return here tomorrow evening to fetch you. Let Mrs. Gordon know you are accompanying me on an outing. If she requires particulars, you can explain I’m keeping the details a surprise and that you’ll be home quite late. ”

Before Kitty could ask or clarify or argue, Augustus stood, executed a short bow, and walked out of the room, passing Mrs. Gordon at the door.