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“I wish to God he had married her for he resented me for what I did not, could not, know. I, who had never known love, entered marriage believing we could forge a future together based on a general liking and respect, which I naively assumed would blossom into love when our children were born. Nor was it only I and his other woman who suffered. The children suffered, too. Greatly. So, I beg you, consider long and hard what you are about to enter into. It can only bring the deepest pain, recrimination, and heartache.”

Kitty stumbled into the ballroom. She’d been gone for some time, and now the actors who’d been allowed so graciously to hobnob with the grandees were being chivvied to disperse.

There was Jennie in the arms of a footman, the butler at his shoulder. Mr. Lazarus looked like he was preparing to prize the pair apart, but the lad relinquished his hold at the last moment.

Kitty had little doubt Jennie would orchestrate some assignation for later.

At the far end of the room she glimpsed Silverton; head bowed as he attended to Miss Mandelton. It seemed he was attuned to Kitty’s presence, however, for he immediately whispered something hastily to his future bride before making his way toward Kitty.

She turned abruptly. No, she could not speak to him and possibly give herself away in front of everyone.

And then, to her shock, her sister crossed her line of vision. Not Araminta or Hetty whose movements she’d carefully monitored but Lissa, her full-blood sister whom she suddenly realized how greatly she missed. She reached out and gripped her arm, pulling her to the edge of the room.

“Lissa!”

“Kitty, I’ve been looking everywhere to catch you alone!” her sister exclaimed, her voice low as she glanced about her to ensure their clandestine meeting was not observed. “Did you see Papa turn apoplectic? He’s gone now, of course. Couldn’t face the possibility we might acknowledge him before he had a chance to scuttle away.”

Kitty nodded sadly. Once, she’d dreamed of making her father proud as she performed to wild acclaim. Well, she’d performed to such wild acclaim here under his very roof, but he’d been horrified and embarrassed.

And now he was nowhere to be seen, though that was perhaps not such a bad thing. She noticed Stephen Cranborne eyeing her with mild alarm. Kitty very much hoped he’d not divulge her true identity to Lady Partington, who had every reason to despise Kitty, just as Kitty had despised her until this evening.

Mr. Cranborne was her father’s heir, but Kitty had met him only once—when she’d tumbled out of a tree and landed at his feet the year before. Kitty had sought sanctuary there when she’d been trespassing and had heard her father’s voice. As she’d risen from her undignified landing, she’d declared to her father her intention to run away and become an actress. It was as if voicing the words out loud had made her dream a reality.

To Kitty’s surprise, Lady Partington was suddenly at Mr. Cranborne’ side, and for a moment, she could have sworn her ladyship briefly clasped his hand in hers before whispering in his ear.

Kitty turned, dragging Lissa away with her. Lady Partington mustn’t learn that Kitty was the daughter of her nemesis. As much as anything else, Kitty had a very strong desire that she didn’t want to cause anyone anymore hurt than had already been dealt tonight.

“Lissa, where have you been? I’ve searched far and wide for you, but after you disappeared from the Lamonts, I was at a loss until Mr. Lamont painted my portrait and I saw your name on the back of his sketchbook.”

“We cannot speak here, Kitty,” said her sister as she sought refuge in the shadows with Kitty. “It’s wonderful to see you, and I can’t wait to hear more about Mr. Lamont and about you, but nor can we reveal who we are to each other. You understand that?”

“Just as Lady Debenham is going to great lengths not to reveal what we are to her. Not that she knows who I am—other than the actress who helped her the night her baby was in danger of being delivered too early.”

“Oh, Kitty, I must talk to you, only not here. Where are you staying?”

When Kitty mentioned the name of the inn where the theater troupe had bespoken rooms, Lissa nodded after a quick glance over her shoulder. “I must get back to my charge now. Tonight was Miss Martindale’s first evening out in broader company, but it’s her music teacher, Lady Julia, whom I must ensure doesn’t create a scandal. I can see Lady Partington’s bristles are already set up. Oh, Lissa, it’s so good to see you again. I’ll visit you if I can before I leave, but at least I know where to find you.”

Chapter 8

But it wasn’t Lissa whom Kitty expectantly admitted following a soft rapping on her door later that night.

“Silverton,” she murmured, stepping aside reluctantly though her heart was at war with itself. She opened her mouth to tell him what she’d determined earlier that night, but immediately the door closed behind him, he swept her into his embrace, bringing his lips down to hers in a passionate, all-consuming kiss that brought her spirits soaring to the surface once more.

Kitty went limp in his arms as he carried her to the bed, his passion for her greater than ever, it seemed, and she responded with equal ardor, though she knew what they had could not be sustained. Not after what she’d seen and heard tonight.

He barely spoke but to murmur endearments and words of passion as he quickly divested her first of the simple night shift which was all she wore, before attending to his boots and coat.

Kitty’s heart was in danger of tearing in two. Not one word of the parting speech she’d rehearsed could she say in the face of her rising need for the one man who gave richness and meaning to her life.

But at what cost? How could she bear to share him?

“I love you, too, Silverton,” she whispered against his lips, though not so loud he could hear her. She simply had to say what was in her heart. And to show him that she was his. For tonight.

When her body was laid open to his loving, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind this last time to take her where this wonderful man took her every time. With his mouth on her breast, his right hand gently stroking her cheek, his left stroking up her inner thigh and then to that magic spot at the very core of her where her heart, body, and soul seemed to meet, Kitty clung to him, trying to muffle her whimpers of desire when he moved over her. She was ready for him. She was always ready for him for she loved him so dearly.

Silverton claimed her, bringing her to an earth-shattering climax. For a long time afterward, she lay silent in his arms, every fiber attuned to his rhythmic, labored breathing.

She must remember every nuance, the exquisite sensation of his heated skin, lightly sheened with sweat, his chest hair tickling her cheek, the wonderful essence of him wafting through her senses.

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