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People, however, did gossip, and the talk, Nanny had told her, was that Kitty Kingsley and Harry Brentley were destined to walk down the aisle together. That had sent her into a fit of mirth. The thought of that now made her smirk, but people were always talking about something.
“Woman grown?” he countered. “Well, I didn’t quite say that.”
She wiggled her shoulders saucily. “Oh … then I am not a woman grown? I can name a few young men who definitely think I am.”
He laughed. “I would bet on that, but … look here, you don’t quite have the knack of wiggling your shoulders. If you wish to entice a man in that manner, you should daintily dip in … and bring up your gaze … like so.”
Watching him sent Kitty into convulsive laughter before she settled down and mimicked him quite successfully.
His brow rose, and he said, “Indeed … that is enough. You have the hang of it now.”
“How did you learn the knack of it?” Kitty bantered playfully.
“Sarah Anne is forever flirting with me, and that particular move is a favorite of hers. She is forever at it …”
“Sarah Anne?” Kitty laughed. “Upon my soul!” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t fall for that one. She is a bit of a tart with a mean streak.”
He opened his eyes wide and said, “Kitty Kingsley, what an unkind thing to say!”
“I wouldn’t say it to anyone else, but, Harry, it is true.” She shrugged and then glanced at him calculatingly.
“Oh, you look like a cat when you do that with those green gems of yours. Kitty, you have no idea how beautiful your eyes … you are.”
“Never mind,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “I will tell you roundly, I don’t mean to copy Sarah Anne’s style of flirtation because I don’t like her, and you should stay out of her clutches.” She put up her chin. “When I choose to use my shoulder to lure a man, I shall do so boldly as I do everything else.”
He laughed outright. “And even with dirt smudged across your face, your yella hair a complete mop and in boys’ clothing, there is no one I know, not even pretty Sarah Anne Wrigley that can outshine you.” He hesitated. “And, perhaps, Henrietta.”
Kitty blushed at that and giggled. “Absurd fellow, but you are right about Ree. She is stunning in a fashion all her own.” She sucked in her bottom lip and eyed him naughtily. “One minute you are raking me over the coals and the next filling my head, as Uncle Edwin would say, with balderdash.” She then looked down at her lap and said, “I do miss him ever so much.”
Harry patted her shoulder. “I know, Kit … I know.” He got to his feet, put out his hand for her, and said, “Nearly forgot. When I stopped by the house, your nanny asked me to look for you and fetch you home.”
Kitty opened her eyes wide. “Did she? But, why?”
“I don’t know, but she did seem anxious … well, she is always anxious, who could blame her with you as their charge?” He grinned wickedly at her and puzzled over the problem with a raised brow. “Though I must say, she was more flustered than usual.”
Kitty laughed. “Nanny is always in a fluster.”
He smiled but said a bit more seriously, “Aye, but she did seem … more upset than her norm.”
“However could you tell?” Kitty teased.
Harry snorted and said, “Years of experience with the both of you. Lord, but the capers you have involved the poor woman in. ’Tis a wonder she doesn’t have a permanent twitch. Now, come on, my girl, or she’ll break out in hives.”
“Hives? No, really, is she that upset?” Kitty’s hand fluttered. “I wonder if it is because Henrietta’s father is due this afternoon. But she didn’t seem upset about it before.”
“I’m not sure what it is, but I rather thought she was concerned,” he clucked. “Come on, let’s not keep her waiting any longer. I’ll ride with you and lend my support, if you like.”
“I do like, and it is the price you have to pay for having found me,” she bantered.
“Aye, and for my curiosity,” he said ruefully as he watched her mount her horse. He then hoisted himself up on his and said, “Come on, let’s make short work of it.”
~ Three ~
THE EARL AWAITED his grandmother at the breakfast table. He had spent an awful night worrying about the problem he had on his hands.
He did not wish to fall in with his grandmother’s plans and would rather lose all than be married by force. He wouldn’t do it. Still, he did not wish to leave his grandmother with matters in such a muddle. He had a deep affection for the old gal and wanted to smooth things over, if he could.
Minerva entered the breakfast room and stopped short. “Ah, in deep thought, are you? I rather thought you might be worrying yourself to death about our discussion.” She grimaced with the discomfort of age, took a seat beside him, rather than opposite, and touched his hand with her fingers. “My dear, dear lad. You know that you are my darling. You are all that is left to me from my son. But, like him, you are spoiled.” She put up her hand to stall his objection and continued. “I wanted him to take his rightful place in the House of Lords. But he chose otherwise. I want it for you, Brandon. I am getting on in life and would like to see you establish yourself as someone more than … than the libertine you presently display to the world.”
