Page 43 of To Steal a Kiss

“Oh, Tilda, no.” Alice stared at her, not knowing what to say but Matilda just laughed.

“Oh, don’t look so mortified. Nate has made me a wealthy woman in my own right. I’m independent, and maybe I’ll find some nice, penniless gentleman who will overlook my tarnished past and fall in love with me. It’s all I really want you know, to love and be loved in return. Well, anyway, hope springs eternal.”

Alice stared at her, knowing—as if she hadn’t always known—why Nate admired his sister so. A lesser woman might have hidden herself away in shame and let the world win. Alice would have been that woman such a short time ago. Not any longer. Matilda had inspired her too, with her bravery. Perhaps Alice had made mistakes in trying to break out of her shell, but they were her mistakes to own, and to fix. If she was to marry Nate she’d not do so out of desperation, but because she wanted to, and because he wanted her.

As if she’d conjured him with the thought, the door opened, and Nate walked in.

“My two favourite ladies,” he said, grinning at them. “Is dinner ready? I’m half-starved.”

He looked different from earlier. Washed, shaved, and immaculately turned out: every inch the gentleman. Perversely, Alice rather regretted it. She’d enjoyed seeing him a little less than perfect. It had made him seem a little less godlike. Not much, but a little.

“I imagine so,” Matilda said, smiling at him as she stood. “Let me go and see.”

She gave Alice a sly wink and left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

“Hello,” he said, staring at her in a way that made her breath catch.

He moved closer and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. He raised first one and then the other hand to his lips, kissing her fingers.

“I missed you,” he said, placing both hands upon his chest and holding them there beneath his.

“It’s only been a couple of hours at most,” she said, laughing. “I can’t believe you missed me in that time.”

He made a pained sound and winced a little. “So, I see you didn’t miss me in the least then. My poor heart.”

“Foolish man,” she scolded, laughing and moved away from him as there was a discreet knock before Matilda entered the room.

“Dinner is served,” she announced, imitating the sound of a snooty butler.

Nate laughed and offered each of them an arm apiece, before leading them into dinner.

***

26th June 1814. Baker Street, London.

“Oh, but Papa, we have to go,” Alice said, wondering at her rotten luck. “It’s all arranged.”

They’d all been due to attend the Vauxhall Gardens this evening in company with several other families of their acquaintance. Lucia and Bonnie and many of the others would be there too, as well as Matilda and Nate. Alice had hoped to meet with her friends and to find an opportunity to slip away in the crowds and spend time with Nate in private.

“I do think it’s too bad of you, Mr Dowding,” her mother said with a sniff, “to spoil our enjoyment at this late hour. How is Alice supposed to get herself suitably betrothed if we spend our evenings at home?”

Alice looked between them. Her mother had been a handsome woman in her youth, and still had a slender figure, her red hair now faded to a pale apricot which was most becoming. However, there was an air of dissatisfaction that always hung about her. It made her features appear more severe than they perhaps might, drawing her mouth into a line of displeasure in repose. Her father, by contrast, was a large ruddy face man, currently flushed with irritation.

“Dash it all, one night will hardly ruin her chances. Besides which, young Bindley is good and hooked. It doesn’t matter what happens now, we’ve all but made the arrangements.”

“Papa!” Alice replied, the colour leaching from her face in horror.

“Yes, really, sir,” her mother reproached him. “That was not well done of you, to speak of such things before your daughter.” She turned back with what Alice assumed was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry your head about it, Alice. Papa will deal with all the vulgar financial details.”

Alice felt her heart beating in her throat and, for once in her life, couldn’t hold her tongue. “But mother, I don’t—”

“I know you don’t want to consider it,” her mother said, speaking over her and waving a hand to silence any further exclamation. “But you will be a married lady soon enough, with a grand household of your own. Just think, an earl’s son,” she said with a happy sigh, before adding brightly, “and if anything happened to his brother—”

“Mother!” Alice exclaimed, shocked and horrified.

Mrs Dowding did at least have the grace to blush a little. “Well, one doesn’t like to think of it, naturally, but accidents happen, and his brother is some ten years older and still unmarried. Once his father has passed… well, you might yet become a countess one day, and any son you bore would be the next earl.”

Mrs Dowding gave a wistful sigh and even her father returned to the conversation and looked quite animated.