“Sort of…stiff. Like Mary goes when you say something rude, and she disapproves but doesn’t want to say so. I had to work on him for quite a while before he admitted that he had heard of the viscount. He was quite reluctant to tell me anything, but I could tell he was concerned, so I refused to give up.”
“Poor man,” Elizabeth remarked wryly. Kitty could be relentless when she had set her mind to something.
“But I made him tell me in the end. According to him, Lord Rutherford is shockingly loose in the haft, and not to be trusted with any woman’s virtue.”
Elizabeth frowned doubtfully. She had learnt the hard way that giving credit to the slanderous whispers of strangers was a guaranteed way of making trouble for oneself. It was on the basis of Wickham’s lies that she had rejected the only man she had ever met who she truly believed could make her happy. The present situation differed somewhat, for she knew neither Lord Rutherford nor this sergeant Mulhall—it ought not to matter what either man thought of the other. Except there was now another party involved, and it mattered very much to Elizabeth that she not be caught up in any unpleasantness.
“Did he say how he knew Lord Rutherford?”
Kitty squinted at nothing, then shook her head. “I cannot remember.”
“It makes no sense. Why would Lady Tuppence think it helpful to my reputation to be seen with a man of dubious honour?”
Her sister shrugged. “Maybe she does not know her cousin is a cad. Bad people rarely go about shouting their wickedness from the rooftops. Either way, I am not sorry. Sergeant Mulhall was a most agreeable substitute. He is so witty! I thought I might pee myself when he told me he had counted thirty-four bare bottoms in that first room alone.”
“Faith, Kitty! I beg you would exercisesomedecorum. You are nearly nineteen years old and hoping to secure a husband. No man of worth has ever been captivated by vulgar manners or a propensity to laugh oneself to incontinence at the slightest inanity.”
“Sergeant Mulhall enjoyed it well enough when I laughed.”
Elizabeth refrained from sighing at her sister’s naivety. “Good for him. Is he planning on marrying you?”
“Maybe. He has asked me to meet him for a walk in Potters Fields tomorrow.”
“What?” Elizabeth looked at her sharply. Her sister still wore the same wistful expression. “Kitty, you cannot do that. You do not know him.”
All the softness fell away from Kitty’s face. “I did not know Lord Rutherford, but you left me to meet him alone—and it turns out he is an out-and-out reprobate!”
“I did not leave you alone. At least, I did not intend to.” She stopped making excuses and blew out her cheeks in surrender. “You are right. I ought never to have agreed to meet Lord Rutherford, and I certainly should not have asked you to meet him in my stead. I am very sorry. But even more reason not to doit again—especially not outdoors, away from the safety of other people. It is entirely unsuitable.”
“But if you came with me, it would be respectable. There is no rule that says two sisters cannot walk in a park and say good day if they happen to see an acquaintance.”
“He is not an acquaintance. And thereisa rule—it says, ‘Lizzy Bennet has no wish to walk in Potters Fields’.”
“But you like walking.”
“Not there, and not tomorrow.”
Kitty, whose strides had been increasing in length and pace the angrier she grew, now stopped walking altogether and regarded Elizabeth with her jaw set. “You will not go with me? Despite what I did for you today?”
“I will not go with you because it is not a good idea. If he likes you, let him call on you.”
“He does not know where I live.”
“That is because he is not a proper acquaintance.”
“But I really like him.”
“Very well. If you are so determined it is a good idea, ask Aunt Gardiner to accompany you.”
Kitty growled in frustration. “You know she would never agree to it!”
“That is your answer, then.”
“I cannot believe you!” Kitty stormed off again, her boots banging audibly on the pavement and her angry words half swallowed up by the wind. “You are an absolute…have it your way…not go…hateyou!”
They walked the whole way back to Gracechurch Street fifteen yards removed from each other, and Kitty went directly to their room as soon as they arrived home. Elizabeth felt terrible, and not just for refusing her help. She must take responsibility for having almost introduced her sister to a libertine as well. Yet, no matter how passionately Kitty had pleaded for herchaperonage the next day, she could not have agreed to it. She had a different engagement to intercept.
CHAPTER SEVEN
