Norman watched as Kitty took the letter, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar seal. Her fingers paused at the edge as if considering whether or not to open it in front of everyone.
Beside her, Cynthia leaned closer and squinted at the script. Her voice rang out, shrill and curious, “Is that from her? The friend with the… unconventional habits?”
Eleanor gave Cynthia a sharp look, but it was too late. Several heads had already turned.
Kitty’s spine stiffened. She tilted the envelope slightly away from view and pressed her lips into a flat line.
Norman’s jaw tightened.
He was moving before he could consider what would be best. His brandy was forgotten nearby as he crossed the grass, taking long, steady strides toward them. Kitty was already being scrutinized, and he would not let her fend off an entire audience alone—not over a single letter.
She had the right to receive correspondence without suspicion.
He was halfway there when he heard Eleanor speak—quietly, not to him, but to Kitty in a tone laced with warmth.
“…he has always strived to maintain their family’s spotless reputation,” she said. “Even by sacrificing his needs, his comfort—everything. That’s what makes it so difficult to see him like this. He finally wants something. For once in his life.”
Norman slowed his pace. He hadn’t expected to be the subject of their conversation.
Kitty said nothing, but her hand had stilled on the envelope.
Norman stood at a short remove, just beyond the blanket, the dying light casting his shadow toward them. Eleanor looked up and let out a small, delighted gasp. “Oh, look who we’ve summoned.”
Kitty turned slowly, her expression unreadable.
He cleared his throat and inclined his head. “Ladies.”
“Brother,” Eleanor said, recovering smoothly.
Kitty, however, merely held the letter in her lap and said nothing.
Norman hesitated, unsure what he had intended to say. He could not very well admit he had charged over to defend her against the mention of an eccentric friend. It sounded foolish now—excessive.
“I noticed the footman,” he said, lamely.
Kitty raised her brows. “Then you must have excellent eyesight, Your Grace.”
That earned a muffled snort from Eleanor, who was clearly enjoying herself.
The three of them bathed in the golden hush of a sunset that seemed to lengthen every pause between breaths. He glanced once more at the letter in Kitty’s hand. “Is everything all right?”
She looked down at it, then folded the envelope and slipped it into the pocket hidden in her gown. “Quite. It’s a letter from an old friend.”
“She has a reputation,” Norman said carefully, “for being… unconventional?”
“Unconventional does not mean immoral.”
“No,” he agreed, “but people love to blur the two.”
“I’ve learned that well enough.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes were fire.
He sighed. “I didn’t come here to chastise you.”
Kitty gave him a look that was almost a challenge. “Then why did you come?”
Norman hesitated. Eleanor, bless her, stood and gave them both a brisk nod. “I think I’ll go see whether Andrew has begun hoarding pastries again. You two… talk.”
She rose and slipped away without another word, leaving behind a silence that instantly felt louder than the entire garden party.
