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* * *
The earl entered White’s and found the famous gentlemen’s club overflowing with men milling about from room to room. A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and he turned to find Lord Rodhill smirking and demanding of him, “What’s this? Hear you’ve inherited an incredible fortune.”
“How the devil that is already out is beyond me, but so I’m told,” the earl returned dryly. He did not like Rodhill and took no trouble to hide the fact.
“Aye,” Rodhill said and took a sip of port. “A fortune, from all accounts.”
The earl sucked in his lower lip as he controlled the ready retort. Rodhill was a jackanapes, and the earl fancied he knew just where this was going. He leveled a warning gaze at the
man and said, “Your point, my lord? Or do you just like to hear yourself go on about money? I can understand that, for I hear you lost a hale sum on that last pony you backed.”
A round of laughter sprang up from the interested group that had gathered around them, for the nag that Rodhill had backed to win had come in dead last. Rodhill turned a variety of shades of red and answered, “No matter. I shall recover, but you, my lord, I don’t suppose you will have time for such pleasures while playing … shall we call what you are to your new acquisition … a veritable green country wench? Imagine, making you, of all people, sole protector of a chit just out of the schoolroom.”
The room went silent, and, indeed, Rodhill himself went white for a moment, obviously concerned he had gone too far, as the earl looked ready to plant him a facer.
“Protector is a very good term,” the earl said, and no one mistook the threat in his voice. “Guardian is a better one. However, my ward is not solely in my charge, as you seem to think, but quite safely installed at Halloway House with my grandmother, the dowager Halloway.”
“Of course.” Rodhill conceded the blow with a flip of his hand. “One assumed as much.”
“Excellent. Then perhaps we may move on to more interesting topics. What news is there of Napoleon?” the earl said, much pleased with the outcome of this encounter.
* * *
After they had enjoyed a friendly chat, imbibed a good deal of hot tea, and devoured a delectable assortment of miniature cakes and small squares of buttered bread overladen with freshly made jam, Kitty sat back to watch the dowager with growing respect.
A few moments earlier, the dowager had whisked Nanny off to go upstairs and enjoy the hot bath that had been prepared for her as per the earl’s request. Again, Kitty was astounded by the extent of the earl’s thoughtfulness. A rogue and a libertine would not take the time to think of and see to the needs of someone in his service. He was always kind to Nanny, and that had been one of the first things that had made her take notice of his character.
The dowager returned to sit beside Kitty and pat her knee. “Well, child, now you and I are going on a shopping spree from which we shall not return until we are thoroughly exhausted and satisfied.”
Kitty laughed. “Shopping, now?”
“Never say you are too fatigued from your journey?” Minerva challenged.
“No, no …”
The dowager raised a brow and a deprecating eye over Kitty’s new royal blue habit, which was travel-worn from three days use. “Look here, child. I mean for you to take the beau monde by storm, and you certainly cannot do so in clothes like that!” She clucked at the notion and added, “In fact, I am persuaded that none of your things will do.”
“But, my lady, you haven’t even seen my other things.”
“I don’t have to. They were not made by Madame Toussare.” She then wagged a finger. “And we will get on much better if you call me Minnie. Now, come along.”
~ Twenty-Two ~
THE AFTERNOON WAS nearly spent, but Bond Street was bustling still, very much alive with men and women patronizing their favorite shops.
Kitty was, in fact, in a shop, run by a French woman acknowledged (she was told by the dowager) by the haute ton as a modiste of the first stare.
Kitty, though excited by all the newness of a world she had often read about, was becoming restless. She was thinking of the earl, wondering where he was and when she would be with him again.
She stood on a pedestal of sorts in her bare feet and in a silk wrapper Madame had given her to wear between fittings. The room had a large window that overlooked the famous street. She wondered idly if she would recognize herself in her new and utterly high-fashioned clothes.
In fact, a few were molded to her figure so tightly that they made her feel almost indecent, but the dowager said ’twas all the rage. They were a far cry from her buckskins and britches, and she already missed the freedom of movement her old clothes had always ensured her.
She got off the pedestal, crossed the room to slump wearily against the window frame, and said with an amiable chuckle, “Enough. No more. I can’t try on another gown.”
The dowager eyed her and said, “Kitty, you can’t imagine how pleased I am to have you with me. My darling ward Shawna married, which is what I wanted … but the emptiness after she was gone … well, you are here and so good-natured and spirited.”
Kitty took the dowager’s hand. “Oh, I too, am so happy to have you, Minnie.”
