Page 11 of To Follow her Heart

“What an ill-mannered wretch,” Kitty said, a touch too loudly. Matilda, who was sitting opposite them and next to Lady Frances, widened her eyes in a warning gesture that made Kitty blush.

Mr Burton smothered a laugh by pretending to choke on his beef and took a hasty sip of wine. Putting the glass down, he turned back to her. “I’ll think you’ll find her manners are just what they ought to be when faced with conversation from an encroaching mushroom of my stamp,” he murmured.

“Well, I think it’s nothing but ignorance and rudeness. Bedwin would never act in such a shabby manner, and he’s a duke.”

Kitty simmered on Mr Burton’s behalf. She’d been snubbed for her Irish heritage often enough, and because her father’s fortunes were growing through trade. It mattered little that their family was an ancient and distinguished one; gentlemen did not dirty their hands with such things.

Apparently, it was better to let your family starve than lift a finger. What idiocy.

“We so enjoyed the fireworks at Green Park,” Matilda said to Mr Burton, giving him a warm smile.

Kitty hid a grin at the undisguised pleasure in Mr Burton’s eyes at being addressed by her.

“They were very impressive,” Tilda added. “Beautiful, too, like the sky was full of golden stars.”

“Were they?” Mr Burton said, gazing back at her with undisguised admiration. “I didn’t notice.”

Matilda blushed and turned her attention back to her dinner.

“Did you enjoy the fireworks, Miss Stanhope?” St Clair asked, picking up the conversation and drawing Harriet into it.

It had amused Kitty to discover Harriet seated to St Clair’s left. She wondered if the countess was oblivious to Harriet’s animosity, or if she’d done it on purpose when arranging the table.

Harriet, who had barely spoken since they’d sat down, lifted her head.

“I’m not sure,” she said, her tone thoughtful.

St Clair raised an eyebrow, considering her with interest. “Why ever not? Either you did or you didn’t.”

Harriet looked at the earl and scowled. “No, it is not that simple.”

St Clair sighed, returning a rueful smile. “No, Harry, it never is with you. Please, won’t you explain?”

Harriet blushed scarlet at St Clair addressing her in such an informal manner before company. Kitty could see it had unnerved her. They were childhood friends, of course, but others could interpret it as an intimacy she would never have allowed him.

“The fireworks represented the Battle of Waterloo,” she said, her tone rather stern. “And as lovely and impressive as they were, I could not help but imagine the men who suffered and died during that terrible battle. The noise, the smoke, the chaos and terror—”

Harriet broke off and looked suddenly horrified. Such subjects were not suitable for the dinner table, especially not from a woman. Mr Burton was frowning too, and Kitty wondered if he thought women ought not consider such things. She hoped not, for she would think less of him for it.

“What an imagination you have,” Lady Frances remarked, one blonde eyebrow arched a little. “I just saw the beauty of the evening and enjoyed the convivial atmosphere. I had no idea of the morbid undertone.”

Kitty decided she didn’t like Lady Frances. Judging by the way St Clair’s jaw tightened, he didn’t approve of her comment either.

“Harriet has a superior intellect, Lady Frances,” St Clair said, his expression frigid. “She feels things rather deeper than most.”

Lady Frances gave a dismissive sniff and turned back to her dinner. St Clair was still regarding Harriet.

“Must you think so hard about everything?” he asked quietly. The words were gentle, his expression one of consternation, as if he was trying terribly hard to understand her.

“It’s better than thinking of nothing at all,” she snapped and then closed her mouth, looking appalled. Kitty could almost hear her cursing herself for the outburst. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me for a moment…?”

Harriet got to her feet, causing all the men to stand as well, as she walked from the room.

St Clair started forward, as though he would go after her, which would have been quite inappropriate.

“I’ll check she’s all right,” Kitty said, halting the earl before he could set tongues wagging. She smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “She had rather a headache earlier,” she added with sudden inspiration. “I expect it’s still troubling her.”

Kitty hurried from the room, catching up with Harriet and sliding her arm through hers.