“Only the two stops?” Lady Fitchett chimed in.
Kitty shook her head. “There was a bakery next to the apothecary. It had the most wonderful apple tarts.”
Three stops were not an extended shopping trip, but neither was it suspiciously short. Her own mother had spent an hour or more looking at just ribbons in a haberdashery before moving on to the lace and other trimmings. Kitty had no doubt that the three women in the room with her could fill an entire afternoon with just three stops.
Mrs. Craughton looked mildly annoyed at Kitty’s lack of details, something she must have expected given Kitty’s habitual avoidance of gossip. But instead of pressing, her mother’s friend caught on to the thread about tarts and began asking for suggestions of what to serve at her next garden party. Grateful for the reprieve, Kitty returned to her own musing.
The cricket match had been the most fun she’d had in a very long time. She could not deny the immense sense of satisfaction she’d felt when not a soul could hit off of her once she found her rhythm. But it was the feeling of safety as Oliver Linfield held her in his arms that dominated her memory.
Over the events of the previous few days, Kitty had accepted the fact that she’d misjudged Oliver Linfield. He was neither cold nor dismissive, simply uncomfortable in company. As far as his excuse for misleading her at the circulating library, she was inclined to believe him. He’d not meant to hurt or embarrass her. He’d simply made a poor choice when faced with few good ones.
The name “Oliver Linfield” hitting her ears caused Kitty to snap back to the conversation. For a brief moment, she feared she’d spoken it aloud. But no, it was Lady Fitchett who had mentioned the dark-haired gentleman.
“I heard his last visit to London was to meet with creditors,” Lady Fitchett half-whispered, as if sharing a dark secret. “He was trying to negotiate an extension before his debts were called in.”
“Few landowners made a profit last year, with the crop failures.” Mrs. Craughton shook her head in overdone concern. “It could be enough to ruin a man who already had debts hanging over his head.”
Though she’d not thought about them in days, Kitty was well aware of the rumors of Oliver’s insolvency. Kitty glanced at her mother, who looked positively gleeful at the news. She probably assumed that his financial situation made him easier to catch.
Though she knew it would be better to keep her mouth firmly closed, Kitty could not help but defend Oliver. “I spent a morning at Blackthorne Park during my recent visit to Hampshire. The outbuildings were in good repair and the tenant cottages were well kept. It appeared to be a well managed estate, with no neglect at all.”
“But did you go in the house?” Lady Fitchett asked as all three women leaned forward as if it would help them hear her answer more clearly.
“I did not,” Kitty admitted. “There was a canopy with tables underneath for the food.” She had not told her mother the full story of how she spent her time at Blackthorne Park. Mrs. Childs would never understand the workday, nor did Kitty want to be lectured for riding around in the back of a farm cart delivering lemonade to tenants. Despite the fact that the request had come from a baroness and the sister of an earl, her mother would not find her actions ladylike.
“Lady Diana mentioned yesterday that she was undertaking renovations on the house,” Kitty’s mother added to the conversation.
For just a moment, Kitty thought her mother’s words were in defense of Oliver Linfield. Then Mrs. Craughton latched onto the topic. “Of course, ‘renovations.’” Her mother’s friend spoke with a sickening sense of satisfaction. “Everyone knows that is the first excuse for keeping visitors away if one wishes to hide missing furnishings and bare walls.”
Lady Fitchett jumped in with another tale of a family who had hidden their financial troubles, and Blackthorne Park was forgotten for the moment. At least by the rest of the party.
Kitty did not like the idea of Oliver hiding his financial situation. Not that she was foolish enough to take the gossip of Priscilla Childs and her friends as absolute truth. But the possibility existed.
Marrying a gentleman who needed her dowry had always been a possibility. There were younger sons who lacked their own resources, and penniless heirs who were the victims of the mismanagement of previous generations. But genuine affection and honesty were both required to make the situation palatable.
A sincere suitor who might be in need of funds was one thing; a dishonest fortune hunter was something else entirely.
The question was, which was Oliver Linfield? And perhaps more importantly, when had she begun thinking of him as a true suitor? Their arrangement was meant to be feigned.
Kitty sat in the front sitting room, watching the street out the window. Oliver had promised to arrive at half-past two, and it wasalready after three. If he did not come soon, they would miss their opportunity to walk through the gated garden around the corner before her mother returned from her shopping excursion.
At long last, a hackney pulled up in front of the house, and a familiar figure jumped down and bounded up the stairs. After Edwin admitted him to the house, Oliver kept his hat and gloves but handed the liveried footman a brown leather satchel.
Instead of waiting for him to be announced, Kitty stepped into the foyer. “Good afternoon, Mr. Linfield.”
“Miss Childs,” Oliver bowed. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a meeting with my man of business, and it took far longer than I expected.”
His man of business? Another meeting about debt, perhaps? Kitty mentally chastised herself. She’d determined not to assume until she could have a frank conversation. “Shall we?”
They walked side-by side with Polly close on their heels until they reached a wrought-iron gate. Kitty retrieved the key from her reticule and allowed them inside the gated garden. It was not large, but the trees were in full bloom and flowers ran alongside the gravel walkways. Next to the gate sat a fine iron bench. Kitty turned to her maid. “Why don’t you have a seat while Mr. Linfield and I wander?” The entire garden was visible from the bench, so there really was no need for her to trail behind them. After a long moment, Polly agreed.
Once her maid was situated, Kitty took Oliver’s offered elbow as they set off down the path. She attempted to keep her voice light as she asked, “And how was your meeting with your man of business?”
“It went very well,” Oliver responded without elaborating.
Kitty kept her eyes on the path in front of them as she replied, “I’m so glad to hear it.”
They exchanged several more inane pleasantries before Oliver pulled them to a stop. “What is the matter?”
