Sir John finally exited his abode three hours after they’d arrived. Giles had been on the verge of giving up, and LaRue claimed he would faint in one more minute of fresh air. Now, the fellow strode down the street in the opposite direction as if he had some important matter to attend to. Giles assumed he was on his way to some library or other to collect more dusty facts for Miss Dell. Well, he would not get away with whatever he was trying to do.
All they had to do now was wait for the charwoman.
*
Kitty had onceagain received an unexpected summons from her father. As she hurried to his study, she prayed it was not another book arriving. On the other hand, it might be even worse. What if it had come to her father’s attention that her name had been the subject of a wager in a gentlemen’s club? Or perhaps he had heard that Lord Grayson had been unmasked as Veritas and he wondered how she’d been fooled with all the rest?
The facts pointed to Lord Grayson, though something in Kitty’s mind had set up a small rebellion, arguing against it.
While she had told nobody of her ideas, that did not mean that someone else had not exposed Veritas using other clues. Sir John might even have done it. It was clear enough that there was enmity between the two gentlemen—if Lord Grayson accused Sir John of being Veritas as some sort of red herring, might not Sir John also be suspicious of Lord Grayson? There would be much talk after Lady Blakeley’s masque—might some of that talk include noting that there had been a certain gentleman wearing a very large V? Might some of that talk reach Sir John’s ears and he leap to a conclusion upon hearing it?
Lord Penderton was behind his desk with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Ah, Kitty, do sit down.”
Kitty did as she was bid and waited for her father to speak.
“I have received a note from Sir John Kullehamnd,” he said. “The gentleman wishes to call on me.”
Kitty was taken aback. He had proposed doing so and she had clearly told him not to do it. Certainly, he did not suggest an interview on her account.
The idea that he would not dare so much began to crumble. She got the awful feeling that Sir John might have decided to do what he liked, regardless of her opinion.
“Of course,” Lord Penderton continued, “there might be any number of reasons for his call, but as he does not name them I am convinced it is in regards to you.”
“I am afraid it might be so, papa,” Kitty said, “though I told him there was no need for anybody to call on my father at this moment.”
“I see,” her father said. “You were as clear as that, and yet he insists?”
“That is what I think, though as you said, there might be some other reason for it.”
“If there is not, if our surmises are correct,” Lord Penderton said, “why would the fellow ignore your wishes?”
“I believe,” Kitty said slowly, “that it may be because he does not put much stock in a female’s opinion. I only discovered it recently, he is…highhanded, is what I would call it.”
“I would call it forceful, and I do not like it,” Lord Penderton said. “He does not even really request an interview, he writes as if it is a foregone conclusion that I will see him.” He looked over the letter and laid it down. “May I assume you do not like him?”
“Yes, you may,” Kitty said. “I tried to like him, but I do not.”
“I am glad, my dear,” her father said. “When a woman marries, she puts herself in a man’s power. Of all the unhappy marriages I have seen, the cause is usually that the lady has married a man who exertstoomuch power.”
Though Kitty would not have expected her father to be so astute on this particular subject, he had summed up all of her misgivings about Sir John. She would have been in his power and as far as she could tell, he did not mind wielding that power.
“Can you imagine how the baroness and I would have got on if I attempted to exert control over her? If I dictated and directed?”
A giggle escaped Kitty as she really could not imagine such a circumstance.
“You may indeed laugh,” Lord Penderton said, smiling. “The notion is absurd. Your mother and I get on well because we allow each other to get on how we like. I would no more inform her of what her opinions are than I would howl at the moon. You are well to be clear of Sir John.”
“How should I be clear of him, though?” Kitty asked. “I told him not to approach you and he has anyway. What will you say to him?”
“I shall not say anything at all. I will write that I am not currently arranging any interviews and that should be sufficient. He will get the hint unless he is an absolute block of wood.”
Kitty was certain her father would know best how to handle the situation. It would be awkward to encounter Sir John afterward, but she fully expected he would say nothing of it and that would be the end of it.
The door opened and Hidgson stood in the doorframe appearing red in the face and entirely put out.
“I am sorry to disturb, my lord,” he said. “There is a gentleman at the door who refuses to be turned away. He is insistent that he must speak to you and claims he wrote ahead of time and you are aware that he would arrive. He says his name is Sir John Kullehamnd.”
Kitty felt herself go as cold as ice. It had been disturbing that Sir John had gone against her clearly stated wishes and written to her father. But now, he had come to the door?
