Miss Danworth stood next to her and Kitty said, “I do not know if it is all the bubbles, but I find champagne does lift my spirits.”
Miss Danworth had smiled but had not answered. Kitty began to conceive a different idea of Miss Danworth. She was cool, mostly. Though occasionally the coolness warmed. Her father was frightening and seemed to have a plan for her future that he would dictate. Her mother was long-dead. Her companion, Mrs. Jellops, seemed kind, though perhaps an ineffectual sort of creature.
Miss Danworth could not live in a very happy home. Perhaps she wore her coolness like the armor of the Valkyries.
Before she could think of a way to put Miss Danworth at her ease and coax back the warmness, a footman hurried toward her. “Miss Dell?”
Kitty nodded and wondered if her mother wished her to come to the card room.
The footman handed her a note, bowed, and walked off.
“From my mother, no doubt,” Kitty said unfolding it. “I hope she does not say she is tired and we leave early, I am very much enjoying Lady Hathaway’s hospitality.
Though Kitty had fully expected some missive from her mother, the writing was in a distinctly masculine hand. She nearly dropped it after reading it.
“Are you well, Miss Dell?” Miss Danworth asked.
“Well enough, I suppose,” she said, handing the note to Miss Danworth. “I only should have kept my guard up about a certain gentleman’s schemes.”
Miss Danworth read the note: “Meet me in the garden, I have proof of the true identity of Veritas.Grayson.” She folded it again and said, “What on earth?”
Kitty smiled bitterly, her amusement and levity flown from her. “Lord Grayson pretends he will solve a mystery for me which I believe I have already solved. He will reveal himself as Veritas, a gentleman who has caused no end of trouble and embarrassment to some of my friends. He will wish to laugh at my expense.”
“But you will not meet him alone,” Miss Danworth said. “It would be talked of, I’m sure you know.”
“I certainly will not. Though it appears that Lord Grayson does not mind putting me in a compromising position. I had not believedthatof him.”
As Kitty looked across the ballroom, she caught Lord Grayson’s eye. He smiled at her, as if the assignation was arranged. How naïve he must think her! She would not meet him, she would not dance with him and she would not dine with him. She had allowed her feelings to run on ahead of her, incautious and unseeing of the danger.
Now that he had been fully revealed to her—his utter carelessness of her reputation and prospects—she felt almost leaden. It was as if a black fog settled round her shoulders.
Kitty realized a very horrible truth. She was wounded by this. Not just offended, or her sensibilities shocked. She was wounded. Deeply wounded.
She had allowed her feelings to go too far. Much, much too far. She might just have allowed herself to love him. Now those feelings had turned back around to her and shot through her like an arrow.
It was terrible! He was terrible! She must stop at once. Why should she have any sort of feelings at all for such a person? Why should she care for one who cared so little for her?
A lady alone in a garden with a gentleman was tantamount to claiming an engagement, and if no engagement was forthcoming, the lady’s reputation was ruined. Lord Grayson knew it perfectly well.
“Something is not right here,” Miss Danworth said.
“Nothing is right, I am afraid,” Kitty said, willing her eyes not to water.
“Not quite what I meant,” Miss Danworth said briskly. “I have known Lord Grayson these past two seasons. He is a rascal of a flirt and I am quite sure he’s been wrong in some of it. But he has never compromised a lady. I must discover more of this. If he goes so far, we must all condemn him.”
“Do as you please, condemn or not,” Kitty said, swiping at her uncooperative eyes. “I will retreat to the lady’s retiring room. I do not yet know what to do about supper, but I will rid myself of Lord Grayson.”
Kitty turned on her heel and hurried from the ballroom.
Chapter Eighteen
Giles was notat all certain what was happening at this moment. Miss Dell had left the ballroom and Miss Danworth was coming toward him. He might have guessed that Miss Dell had ripped a hem or some other feminine emergency, had not Miss Danworth’s expression told him otherwise. She looked like murder.
She waved a paper in front of his face and said, “Do you really go so far?”
He had not the slightest idea what she talked about.
“You cannot be so obtuse,” Miss Danworth went on. “Not evenyoucan toy with a lady’s reputation in such a manner.”
