Kitty turned eager eyes on him. “Are you planning to attend the Buxtons’ card party as well?”
“We are,” Caroline said.
Kitty’s eyes sparkled. “That shall begreatfun. But do remember to eat ahead of time.”
“We are planning to,” James said, but there was a tightness about his eyes. If he had been holding out for a match with Kitty, her careless words had undoubtedly dashed his hopes. Could it be the affection Caroline imagined she saw between them was one-sided?
“I look forward to our dance tomorrow, Mr. Whitby,” Kitty said.
Silence permeated the room. James looked at the floor for a beat too long before raising his eyes. “Indeed, it shall be most enjoyable. If you will excuse me, I just recalled a letter I need to write.”
Tristan stood. “I will walk you out.” He glanced back, bowing to the women. “I shall see both of you tonight.”
Caroline watched him leave, eager to see him again at dinner.
“When will you become engaged to that man?” Kitty asked the moment the door closed behind James and Tristan.
“I could ask you the same.”
Kitty’s neck flushed. “What do you mean? Has James mentioned anything particular to you?”
“No, and he shan’t while you prattle on about your father never accepting a poor man as your husband. You must know my father lost everything, Kitty. We have nothing.”
She looked stricken, her ashen face bleeding of color. “When?”
“That is unimportant. The relevant point is that James deems you above his touch.”
Kitty scoffed. “Ridiculous.”
“You mentioned it yourself, Kitty.”
She let loose a deeply frustrated groan. “I was trying todrop a hint in his ear, not push him away! How can I convince him I care nothing for that?”
Caroline stared at her friend. “You do love my brother. For how long?”
Kitty’s face softened. “From the moment he saved me in Vauxhall, I think.”
Not very long at all, then. Caroline chewed her lip. “Are you certain it’s a lasting passion?”
“I believe so.”
“Then let us put our heads together,” Caroline said. “Surely, there is something we can contrive.”
Kitty gave her an impish smile. “I might have just the thing.”
Caroline mustered up the most serious expression she could. “If it’s a matter of being discovered alone with him, it won’t do.”
She shook her head. “It is even better.”
Chapter Twenty
Harry Plumstead had replied to Tristan’s note immediately, requesting they meet at their soonest convenience before the opportunity was lost to them. Tristan conveyed this to James during the Buxtons’ card party, and they set out for Mr. Plumstead’s office on Threadneedle Street the following morning.
Rain fell evenly, making traffic light on the road. Tristan folded up his collar as he left the carriage and entered the building his driver had pointed out to him as the correct address, James just behind him.
The office smelled of burning wax. A secretary sat at a desk near the door and welcomed them.
“We are here to see Mr. Plumstead,” Tristan said.
