“Then why show me?” She asked in a soft voice.
“Because I trust you.” He reached out and placed a hand on top of hers and then summoned all of his courage. “And because when I ask to court you for real, I want you to have the utmost confidence in my motives.”
Kitty ducked her head before returning her eyes to his. “You wish to court me for real?”
He picked up her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “If you’ll allow it.”
She teased her lower lip in a most distracting fashion. “I think I would like that.”
The sound of a carriage pulling up in front of the townhouse caused them both to sit up straight. “My mother is home,” Kitty muttered.
Sure enough, the familiar figure of Mrs. Childs alighted from the carriage and approached the front door. Oliver knew she’d been shopping with Lady Sampson, because he’d asked it of the baroness. He was not sure how he could thank the kind woman for all her help over the previous fortnight. But he would need to think of something beyond just fulfilling her request for that evening.
“I should go. But I assume I will see you at Lady Sampson’s dinner tonight?” Oliver did his best to suppress his smile as he stood.
Kitty studied his face for a long moment. “There is so much mischief in your eyes, I could almost mistakeyou for your brother.”
“I should hope not.” Oliver gave her one more kiss on the hand before bidding her farewell. After exchanging the necessary pleasantries with Mrs. Childs, he set off down the sidewalk, lighter than he’d felt in years.
The townhouses of Mayfair inched by as Kitty listened to her mother prattle on about their invitation to Lady Sampson’s dinner party. Being included in an intimate dinner party hosted by a baroness was a fulfillment of Mrs. Childs’ lifelong ambitions. Though she would never dream of bringing it up, Kitty knew their invitation had nothing to do with her mother, and everything to do with her own connection to Oliver Linfield. Feigned connection? No longer feigned connection?
Though it had been constantly on her mind, Kitty had not mentioned their conversation in the front parlor to another soul. Not that she could mention it to her mother without explaining everything about the past fortnight. But she did not know who Oliver had told. Did his mother know that he intended to court her for real? Her stomach did a flip at the memory of him pressing a soft kiss to her hand.
Somehow, through all the ups and downs of the last few weeks, Kitty had developed tender feelings for the master of Blackthorne Park—not because of his beautiful estate, connections to his uncle, or rather impressive investment portfolio. Though she still could not believe he’d managed to keep the last bit from London gossips. No,she felt drawn to Oliver Linfield because he was deeply kind and treated her as though her thoughts and feelings mattered. That he was handsome did not hurt either.
At long last, Kitty found herself entering Lady Sampson’s drawing room as a footman announced their names. A dozen faces turned to look at them, some familiar, some not. Lady Diana sat with Lady Fulbourn on one side and Arabella on the other, with several other women facing them on another sofa. Of the gentlemen standing in the corner, only Lord Sampson’s sons, Mr. Mitchell Aldridge and Mr. Joseph Aldridge, appeared to be under the age of forty. Where were Oliver and Tim?
Lady Sampson appeared at her side and looped her arm through Kitty’s elbow. “Come, I have an introduction to make.”
They approached an elegant woman of an age with the baroness, silver streaking her light-brown hair. “Elizabeth, may I present Miss Catherine Childs?” She then turned back to Kitty. “Miss Childs, this is my dear friend Elizabeth, the Dowager Marchioness of Boxwood.”
Kitty dropped into a curtsy and then smiled at the dowager. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
“And you, Miss Childs,” Lady Boxwood returned, a twinkle in her eyes. “May I present my longtime neighbor and friend, Mr. Owen Davies?” She gestured towards the gentleman next to her.
Before Kitty could continue with the pleasantries, a throat cleared. She turned to the doorway just as the footman announced, “Mr. Oliver Linfield and Mr. Timothy Linfield.”
Two identical men stepped into the room. Kitty blinked twice, but the image before her did not change. Oliver and Tim not only resembled each other, they appeared identical. Theyeach wore a black jacket with matching trousers and a royal blue waistcoat. Their cravats were exact copies of each other, and their hair appeared to have been recently trimmed into the same style. The only difference was that one sported a green stickpin in his mathematical knot, and the other a red.
“It is a game they have played since childhood,” Lady Sampson explained. “Though I believe this is their first time since their late father passed away.”
“Can anyone tell them apart?” Lady Boxwood asked, her eyes still studying the identical figures before her.
“Their mother and sisters usually can, but even they have been fooled a time or two.” The baroness looked over to where Arabella sat next to her mother-in-law. “To my knowledge, only Mr. Timothy’s wife has never lost the game.”
“Lords, ladies, and gentlemen,” the brother with the green stickpin stepped forward with a big smile. “We invite you to join us for an evening of frivolity.”
That must be Tim.
The second brother stepped forward. “Or not. It is up to you.” He sounded just like Tim as well.
“A few ground rules before we start.” Now the first brother sounded like Oliver.
“No asking questions that only one of us would know.” The twin with the red stickpin instructed in the same cadence and tone.
The brother with the green stickpin then returned to sounding like Tim. “Meaning no questions about the estate or the church.”
They then spoke together. “And no asking Mrs. Arabella Linfield for help.”
