“Are you here to claim it from me?” She stood up straighter, as if prepared to defend her right to the alcove. As the top of her head did not even reach his shoulder, she was anything but intimidating. There was also a gleam in her eyes that made Oliver suspect he was being teased. Two could play that game.
“While tempting,” he squared his own shoulders theatrically, “I am afraid my honor as a gentleman demands that I surrender this fine shelter to you.”
“That is very gallant of you,” she nodded before donning an overdone look of concern, “Can you make it to the other alcove without being seen?”
“Alas, it does not have a large enough gap.” He’d only been ten years old the last time he’d attempted to hide behind the second potted plant. Even then, it had been a tight fit. “No, I believe I must brave the crowd and return to the party.”
The young lady gave a firm nod. “I wish you courage, then.”
“My thanks.” Oliver nodded grandly before stepping back out into the open. Part of him felt disappointment that he’d not been able to hide for more than a few moments. But the strange interaction with the young woman had somehow served the same purpose. He really felt as though she had granted him the courage to face the evening.
When Oliver reentered the drawing room, Nat came up alongside him and whispered, “Smiling twice at the same social event? Did I bringthe wrong brother?”
Oliver forced his face back into the mask of indifference he normally wore when out in society. “Is that better?”
“Much.”
A few minutes after Oliver returned to the drawing room, Aunt Fulbourn announced the next portion of the evening. All the guests began moving towards the chairs that had been arranged in several rows at the side of the room. As he and Nat found seats near the side of the second row, Oliver could not help but wonder if the young woman from the alcove would slip in the back or spend the evening in hiding.
Kitty let out a deep breath as she leaned the back of her head against the alcove wall. When the strange gentleman had first invaded her hiding place, she’d felt a wave of terror at being discovered. But then her reaction quickly changed to amusement when she realized he had also wanted a place to retreat.
Perhaps he had been hiding from an unwanted admirer? With his dark hair and golden-brown eyes, he was more than handsome enough to attract the attention of the fairer sex. Though she would never admit it aloud, her own heartbeat had sped up when he entered the alcove, and not just from fear. It had then achieved a full gallop when he returned her teasing.
After one last calming breath, Kitty slipped back into the foyer. If she stayed any longer, her mother might suspect she’d been hiding. And that would lead to yet another lecture on proper behavior and doing her duty to society. In truth, Kitty was not hiding from societyas a whole. She was, in fact, hiding from her mother. The woman had done little besides embarrass herself, and Kitty, since they’d arrived in London from Lincolnshire two years prior.
Kitty usually resorted to hiding in plain sight at social events. It was amazing how many people failed to take notice of someone who was behaving in a perfectly unremarkable manner. But when she spotted the alcove after stepping out of the crowded room to catch her breath, she could not resist. She knew her slight frame could slip behind the pot easily enough, but she’d never imagined that a fully grown man could do the same. Especially one who must have been close to six feet tall, or even a hair over.
After pausing at the entrance for a moment to assess the scene, Kitty slipped into the drawing room of the Countess of Fulbourn. She was still unsure how her mother had managed to secure such a prestigious invitation. But she suspected it all came down to Kitty’s rumored dowry. Money opened doors that would otherwise be closed to the daughter of an unimportant country gentleman. And her mother did everything in her power to take full advantage.
“There you are, my dear.” Her mother’s voice sounded unnaturally high, as though she were trying to feign pleasure. As Kitty would have guessed, she stood with Lady Fitchett and Mrs. Craughton, the two biggest gossips in London. Though, to be fair to the baronet’s wife, she was not as vicious as her friend.
Kitty greeted all three women, who nodded in response and then returned to their half-whispered conversation.
“A large estate in Hampshire, you say?” Mrs. Craughton addressedLady Fitchett.
“Large,” the woman confirmed with a solemn look on her angular face, “but nearly insolvent, from what I hear.”
“How did such a gentleman secure an invitation?” Kitty’s mother asked, clearly intrigued.
Kitty held her breath, hoping the answer was not a connection to Lord and Lady Fulbourn.
“Did you not know?” Mrs. Craughton replied. “Oliver Linfield is the nephew of Lord Fulbourn. His mother, Lady Diana, is the earl’s elder sister.”
Kitty’s mother perked up, just as Kitty’s stomach dropped. She knew exactly what would come next. Her mother had spent the previous two years determined to find a connection to a title. Not the title itself; even Priscilla Childs knew Kitty’s dowry was not quite that large. But a connection that would raise her own standing in society. A younger son. A brother. A nephew, apparently.
Her mother had always been more interested in the finer things in life, while Kitty spent her childhood following her father around his country estate. But since becoming a widow, Mrs. Childs had developed something of an obsession with joining the higher echelons of society. Though it hurt to admit, Kitty knew well that she was merely a pawn in her mother’s schemes. The woman’s focus was and always would be herself.
While Kitty half-listened to the surrounding conversation, Lady Fulbourn stepped to the front of the room and announced the musical portion of the evening. After taking a seat towards the back, Kitty spotted the young man from behind the pot. He sat several rows in front of her. A perfect spot for observation, while she would be unlikely to be noticed.
The musical performances were perfectly fine. Kitty did not find them painful, which was all one could really ask. But in truth, her primary attention was on the dark-haired gentleman. He occasionally leaned over to whisper something to his companion, but otherwise looked politely bored with the entire evening. Perhaps he’d not been hiding from an admirer, simply from the evening in general. The thought amused her.
Once the last notes of music came to a close, Lady Fulbourn invited the guests to enjoy one last refreshment before the evening wound to a close. Kitty’s mother shot from her seat and vanished, likely spotting someone she wished to greet. Or worse, introduce to Kitty.
Sure enough, within two minutes, her mother returned on the arm of a portly gentleman with a mix of silver and dark strands combed across his otherwise balding head. Though thoroughly unmotivated to face yet another introduction to an unwanted suitor, Kitty put on a perfectly polite smile and fully faced the new arrivals.
“Catherine, have you met Mr. Rodger Hasler?” Her mother turned to the man at her side, who was likely closer to her own age than Kitty’s. “Mr. Hasler, this is my daughter, Miss Catherine Childs.”
“A pleasure, Mr. Hasler,” Kitty lied while dropping into the bare minimum of a polite curtsy.
