Chapter Seventeen
The polite clink of teacups echoed through the parlor as Deery served both ladies.
Grace nodded at him, and Kitty murmured her thanks.
It was, she realized, awkward as awkward could be. She sipped, sighed and put down her cup. “This is most awkward, Ma’am.”
“Call me Grace, if you would?” She put down her cup as well. “Yes, I suppose it is. I cannot imagine too many ladies are sitting down to breakfast with their brother’s mistress this morning.”
Kitty’s chin came up. “I’m sure that is true.” She looked straight at what she could see of Grace’s face. “Should I retire? I will if my presence is making you uncomfortable.”
“No.” Grace made a brief negative motion with her head. “No, don’t leave. Max brought you here, to Mowbray House. That is out of character for him, so I decided it would behoove me to make your acquaintance.”
“To find out what kind of woman would become a mistress on a wager?”
“Something like that.”
The part of Grace’s face that Kitty could see curved into a slight smile.
Kitty nodded. “I would do the same, I suppose for either of my brothers. Should they act unlike themselves, of course. Although since there really isn’t much one could label as normal in the Ridlington family, I doubt I shall be called upon to do so. Not in the near future, anyway.”
“I’ve heard of the Ridlingtons,” Grace said hesitantly. “Not all good things, I’m afraid.”
“That would be our father,” sighed Kitty. “To set the record straight, he married three times. Edmund, Simon and Letitia are from his first wife. My twin Richard and I were born of his second, and our sister Hecate is the only child of his third wife. All our mothers are gone, and all of us children were glad to see the back of our father when he passed.” She shrugged. “A terrible thing to say, but he was a terrible man. Which is why we’re all…out of the ordinary style, I suppose.”
“That bad?” Grace sounded sympathetic.
“Yes, that bad.” Kitty rose and gathered jam and butter from the sideboard. They were private now, since Deery had left them with full teacups, doubtless knowing they would prefer to be alone. Butlers were awfully good at that sort of thing.
“He was a cold hearted brute,” she continued. “He mistreated his wives and either ignored us, his children, or treated us as if we were beneath contempt. Edmund left and went to sea to get away from him and Simon became a vicar and took the Ridlington living just to escape the house.”
“And your oldest brother…Edmund…he is now Baron?”
Kitty smiled. “He is. He also has a wife he worships and they have a brand new addition in their son, Hugh, who is the most perfect child ever born.”
Grace had to laugh. “I’m sure of it.”
“We are a family, Grace, in spite of our father. Perhaps because of him. I believe we clung together as a way of providing each other with the support and encouragement not offered by a parent.”
“And you, Kitty…what are your plans for your life? You are a member of Lady Allington’s extended family, are you not?”
Kitty tilted her head. “You are well informed, Ma’am. My compliments.”
Grace sighed. “I am a voracious reader. I don’t come to town or get out into Society at all, so my news is gleaned from the news sheets. Lady Allington’s good fortune was mentioned, several times, I believe.”
That was true. “Yes, you’re quite right.” Kitty helped herself to toast. “So here you are, assessing me as a mistress to your brother.”
“No, not so.” Grace finished her tea. “I’m here because I was curious as to what kind of woman could make my brother break his one most steadfast rule about bringing any woman here.”
Kitty gazed at her. “And have you reached a conclusion yet?”
There was a long silence, then Grace moved backward in her chair a little, raising her napkin from her lap and dabbing her lips. “Not quite.” She raised her head and met Kitty’s gaze. “I think it’s time I removed this…” she touched the thin layer of silk lace obscuring half her face.
Kitty watched as she unpinned it from her hair and let it fall to her lap.
“Now you see why I don’t go out, or visit London, Kitty.”
Kitty could indeed.
