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She’d long since given up combing through the packages, much to Mrs. Flanagan’s grudging surprise. For some reason, the abundance hadn’t lightened Cat’s heart. Rather, the display of Kilronan’s patronage hung like a stone around her neck. A weight pinning her to this place and this man when common sense told her to run.
She trailed a bored hand over the empty tables. Picking up then discarding the few magazines tossed about. With Aidan laid up, she’d nothing to fill the empty hours and had forgotten how to be idle with any kind of composure. Having nothing to do and nowhere to go was downright dull.
A knock at the front door drew the bustle of Mrs. Flanagan. A purr of muffled voices in the hall. Then louder. Shriller. And the drawing room door opened on the coifed and coutured figure of an elegant young woman Cat’s age, or a bit younger, with eyes of deep blue and hair like late summer wheat. She stood in company with Mrs. Flanagan and an older, nondescript lady whose features faded into the background next to the vitality of her companion.
For a moment, panic clogged Cat’s throat, and she made a desperate wish for the carpet to swallow her whole. She speared Mrs. Flanagan with a look, but the housekeeper seemed immune to her silent plea. Or perhaps she was too flustered on her own account to worry over Cat’s anxieties. She certainly looked a bit gray around the gills.
“Miss O’Connell, I—” she began in an almost apologetic tone.
“You see?” the young woman spoke over Mrs. Flanagan’s attempt at an announcement. “I knew she’d be here, Stow.” She floated forward in a cloud of expensive scent and muslin, her curves undulating in a sultry writhe that in the right company must draw every eye.
Cat was not the right company.
She fell back on the tattered rags of her upbringing long enough to bob a curtsey and offer a chair, but Miss Osborne seemed in no hurry to take a seat. Instead she did much as Cat had just done. Took a slow turn about the drawing room, her eyes roaming every nook and cranny as if mentally categorizing the contents. Her shrewd gaze lingering for long minutes on the clutter of packages. A morning gown spilling from one. Another parcel’s tissue folded back to reveal pairs and pairs of stockings and three petticoats.
Cat flushed with angry humiliation.
“Such a well-appointed room,” Miss Osborne commented, stepping around a ribboned hatbox as if she were avoiding a pile of dog waste. “A bit dull, but nothing a woman’s touch couldn’t fix in a trice. Don’t you agree, Stow?”
Stow simpered her agreement as she boggled at the wrapped bundles, less skilled than Miss Osborne at ignoring Aidan’s generosity.
Her audit apparently complete, Miss Osborne’s attention fell back on Cat, who’d remained silent and waiting and sick to her stomach.
Mrs. Flanagan tried once more. “I’m sorry, but His Lordship is not—”
“At home to visitors?” Miss Osborne interrupted. “Oh, I know.” She turned to Cat. “Mr. O’Gara told me all about Lord Kilronan’s run-in with those horrid footpads. I would have rushed over here immediately, but I was asked to sing at a charity concert last evening. And then this morning I was due to meet with some of the committee members for the Magdalen Asylum.” Her pointed gaze narrowed. “Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”
Cat’s hands curled to fists. “No, but it must be an admirable cause. I’m sure nothing less would have kept you from your betrothed’s side.”
Miss Osborne frowned, her lips pursing in a quick moue of distaste, obviously unsure whether she was being ridiculed. “Just so. But really, I wouldn’t go so far as to label him my betrothed.” She tittered with false modesty. “I mean nothing’s official. Yet.”
The woman couldn’t have been more obvious had she knocked Aidan over the head and dragged him back to her cave.
“Normally, Miss O’Connell, I wouldn’t pay a call on a gentleman’s establishment. People will gossip, you understand. But I felt I must put aside the potential harm to my reputation in order to speak with you.” She offered Mrs. Flanagan a radiant smile. “Run and find us some tea, won’t you? That’s just the thing to accompany a good woman-to-woman chat. And take Stow with you. She can help butter the toast.”
The authority behind the gentle suggestion had the housekeeper and Miss Osborne’s silent companion nipping to the kitchens, leaving Cat alone. A toy on which Miss Osborne could sharpen her dainty claws.
“Please, don’t remain standing on my account, Miss O’Connell.”
Cat all but collapsed in a chair, nerves battering her insides. “If you’re not here on His Lordship’s behalf, what brings you to Kilronan House this afternoon?”
“When I heard rumors of Kilronan’s dear cousin being newly arrived in town, I knew I must make my introductions. And then when Mr. O’Gara explained about your poor mother’s unexpected illness, I felt it behooved me to come and offer my sincerest sympathies.” Her blue eyes widened in mock horror. “To think, coming down with plague on the eve of your departure. I do hope she’s out of danger.”
Plague? Of all the illnesses in the world, Jack came up with plague? Why not just accuse her imaginary mother of flying to the moon? But Cat let none of her irritation show. Instead she offered a regretful lift of her lips and a heavenward raise of her eyes. “Yes, thank you. The doctors assure us it’s a mild case of . . . plague, so she should be up and about very soon. I’m only grateful my cousins”—she accentuated the word—“were able to house me as they’d originally planned.”
“Yes, that was fortunate, wasn’t it?” Miss Osborne’s fluttery sweetness dissolved with every passing second, and Cat tensed for a hair-pulling, face-scratching brawl. Miss Osborne had weight and height on her side, but Cat had experience and a mean left hook.
The woman settled herself upon a sofa, gloved hands resting in her lap, chin tilted at the perfect angle to showcase her elegant profile. Only her eyes glittered with a flinty stubbornness. “Can we stop pretending to each other, Miss O’Connell?”
Cat’s knots doubled. “I don’t know. Can we?”
Miss Osborne’s lips curved in another vixen smile. “I think so. You look like an intelligent woman. And of course, I’d expect no less from Aidan. When all is said and done, he does have standards.”
Ah. There was the proprietary use of his first name. She was leaving no doubts as to her future plans. Cat wished her all the gods’ good fortune.
“I understand a man’s animal nature.” Miss Osborne colored as she spoke, a beautiful blushing pink that made Cat’s teeth ache. “And as a bachelor, it’s only natural Aidan would seek the company of someone like you to sate his base needs.” Someone like Cat being, in Miss Osborne’s eyes, two or three steps below leper. “But once we’re married, any connection between the two of you must end. Do it. Or I will do it for you.” Spoken with all the cool assurance of one used to getting what she wanted.
Cat defused her menace by laughing outright. “Let me reassure you, Miss Osborne, I wish you much joy of him. By that happy day, I can only hope I’m settled as far away from Lord Kilronan as Ireland will allow.”
