“I love you as you are.”
That required a kiss, even in a hackney carriage, and they arrived home probably appearing idiotic. Kittyfound she had a letter from Ruth, and sat in the drawing room to read the latest news from Beecham Dab. Yet again the lines were crossed. What new delights did Ruth have for her?
Soon expectation turned to dismay.
I’m fighting tears as I write this, Kitty, for our short time together was such a joy to me, but Andrew and I can’t deny the call. We are too comfortable in Beecham Dab, with too few demands upon us, and we know we could make a true difference somewhere else.
Andrew will urge Dauntry to support some older clergyman to the living, perhaps one who’s done noble service for most of his life and deserves a tranquil resting place. We have accepted a parish in the East End of London, so as you settle here, we will soon be there! If Marcus were still alive, we might have managed some fairly frequent meeting. There I am, crying again, but this is the right thing to do.
What of the children?Kitty wanted to protest. The East End was mostly strung along the river and inhabited by those who served the shipping trade and sailors from all around the world. Many parts were rough and crime infested.
However, she recognized the cause of the unease she’d sensed in Ruth. Not trouble in her marriage, but questions about her life’s purpose brought on in part by the death of Princess Charlotte. Kitty couldn’t bear to read the rest for now.
“Why does my life always turn awry?” she asked Sillikin, then remembered she was trying to break herself of that habit. It wasn’t hard now she had someone totalk to. A friend. She had not only love, but also friendship in marriage, which was a blessing. But they would often be apart, and now Ruth would be lost to her, too. Was it something she brought upon herself?
Her marriage to Marcus had probably been rash, but she’d seen his need and responded to it. She’d had no choice other than to move to Cateril Manor, and she’d definitely needed to escape it. Impulsively, she’d found escape, and thus freedom and purpose with the delight of Ruth nearby. Now she’d be alone much of the time in a new prison.
Why couldn’t Ruth and Andrew have moved somewhere else entirely? Birmingham, Liverpool, Africa! It would feel less cruel than their moving to London, where Kitty wanted to be but must leave.The spring,she told herself. She would be in London in the spring. That would be better than nothing.
“Bad news?” Braydon had come in.
It must be written on her face. “Ruth and Andrew have decided their path is too comfortable. They’re leaving Beecham Dab for Shadwell, the better to minister to rascals and sinners.”
“Ah. Andrew had mentioned such a thing a time or two, but I didn’t think he’d do it. Too saintly for his own good, or his family’s.”
“I know. The children. But I can understand feeling underused, unfulfilled.”
“The Abbey won’t make the most of your talents,” he agreed.
“At least I won’t be short of work,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “Will you be able to return with me and stay over Christmastide? We’ll make it merry and say a grand farewell to Andrew and Ruth. We still have a ball to arrange for the Abbey servants and tenants. After that, we’ll hold a Christmas one for the whole parish.”
“Of course I’ll return with you. How could I not? And Christmas brings mistletoe.”
That required a kiss, a lingering kiss, but it had to end. One benefit of the Abbey would be that her boudoir would be far from other rooms, and if they wanted to progress from kisses to sheets in the middle of the afternoon, no one would know.
Her thoughts turned to Christmas. “I wonder if there are any handsome young officers with nowhere to go for Christmas.”
“Kit Kat will pine for her entourage?” It was a tease, not an accusation.
“For Isabella! That would shake her out of vile servitude.”
“Perhaps too far. After being in seclusion, she’ll fall in love with one or more on the spot.”
“More than one wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Remember, she’s a considerable heiress. Make sure they’re decent fellows and would make tolerable husbands. I don’t want to have to shoot anyone.”
“Would you?”
He seemed surprised. “Probably, but I’d try to be more subtle in dissuading and disposing.”
“Sometimes I forget,” she said.
“What?”
“That you were a soldier. One day I would like to hear about your military career.”
She felt the beginning of resistance, of the marble box, but then he said, “One day. A house party is a good plan. It could even be a kind of exorcism. Would you like to go to the theater again? Blanche is performing at Drury Lane, and our box is available.”
