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She had asked him once why he wasn’t married, and he had sighed. “Long story, pet.”
“Tell me,” she asked curiously.
He flicked her nose and said, “It was for the best, and now I have you.”
When the time came for her to attend school, Nanny nearly went down on her knees to beg him to send her to a select ladies seminary. He had adamantly refused, bringing in tutor after tutor instead.
When she became of age, he had planned to take residence in London for the Season and introduce her to the beau monde, but his illness prevented this, and so it was Kitty had never had a London Season.
Nanny had clucked her tongue and said, more often than not, that it was a shame that such a beauty, such a dear, sweet young lady, was buried in the country.
“But I can ride to hounds as well as any man and I can—”
“Never mind.” Nanny had cut her off. “I wanted more for you, my darling.”
“I know, Nanny, and I love you, but … I am happy,” she’d said, but at that moment in time she hadn’t been sure she was completely happy. At that moment in time she’d thought she might like to go to London and see what she could see, share a Season while her dear friend, Henrietta, was being brought out. Fate, however, had other plans for her.
Now, all she wanted was for time to go backwards so she could have Uncle Edwin once again in her life.
She sat up and looked at the sun, attempting to judge the time. “Blast, no doubt I am late,” she said to herself as she got to her feet and brushed off the leaves and twigs clinging to her high boots and breeches.
With a quiet lament, she remounted and rode the distance to the stables, where she found Nanny with her arms folded across her middle and clucking her tongue.
“Look at you. A veritable hoyden, and at your age. You are twenty years old, my dear. You can’t go about in breeches and dirt.”
“Uncle did not mind,” Kitty said, flinging her long hair out of her face.
Nanny took a clump of her hair in her hands and said, “Look at this. Most young ladies would simply die to have these yellow locks, this silky, thick hair, and you allow it to become a tangled mess around your head.”
Kitty laughed. “I will brush it when I go in and wash, Nanny.”
“Your Uncle Edwin didn’t want this for you … he wanted—”
Kitty’s brows rose and she interrupted. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Kitty, dear, he knew he didn’t have long, and it dawned on him that he hadn’t done the right thing by you because of his illness. He began making arrangements. In fact, he was obsessed with making those arrangements.”
“What arrangements?”
“You wouldn’t remember him, but his nephew visited, oh, I think twice … maybe three times in the past, and they got along quite well. At any rate, he gave his solicitor instructions regarding you … and it all had to do with the earl—his nephew, you see, and the earl’s grandmother, though I am not privy to what those instructions were. I only know of them, because he had me attend him and made me promise to make certain it all worked out.”
“No … I don’t believe it.”
“Indeed, it is the truth.” She pursed her lips. “The thing is, apparently he wrote them both again and left the letters in his drawer. We did not discover them until two weeks ago. Of course, they were mailed. Two letters, one for the dowager countess and the other for the earl.” She clucked her tongue and folded her hands into each other at her middle. “You were so distraught when we first lost him that Mr. Harkins did not want to intrude on your grief, but he sent a note around earlier saying that he can no longer put off the reading of the will … my dear, it has been months.” She eyed Kitty. “Well, we shall learn what your uncle’s wishes are when Mr. Harkins arrives this afternoon, but I think you must be prepared. He may have appointed the dowager your legal guardian until you come of age, which won’t be until you turn twenty-one.”
Kitty turned on her heel, and Nanny called after her, “Darling … what are you doing?”
“Another ride … I must go for another ride. I have to think.”
Mounted and once again allowing the breeze to wash over her, she slowed her horse from a lope to an easy trot when a familiar voice snapped her out of her daze and confusion.
“Kitty! I say—Kitty!”
She turned sharply and saw a welcome and handsome face. “Harry!” Kitty stopped her horse and waited for him to ride up alongside. “Well,” she said, eying him. “Don’t we look dapper?” She giggled and leaned over to take his gloved hand and give it a squeeze.
“Come on … sit with me a bit,” he said, dismounting with a light step before he led her to a shady spot beneath a large oak.
She followed suit, and he grinned, reached over, and pulled one of her long tresses to say, “I may look dapper, but you look a mess—a beautiful mess, though.” He laughed and put up defensive hands. “Put down your fists, do!”
