Nat eyed him as if wanting to ask a question, but instead bid him goodnight and crossed the hall to his own room.
As Oliver unbuttoned his waistcoat and prepared himself for bed, he thought about his introduction to Miss Childs. Rather than being offended by her blatant lack of interest, he found her reaction amusing. Refreshing even.
As the heir and then master of one of the finest estates in his corner of Hampshire, Oliver had dealt with more than his fair share of matchmaking mamas. They’d started the moment he finished at Cambridge, and only gotten worse since his father passed. Some of the more tenacious examples had not even waited until he removed his black armband before pouncing.
Mrs. Childs might have designs on Oliver, but her daughter did not appear to agree. Or perhaps it was part of the game. Some men would find her aloofness a challenge, but Oliver was not one of them. He preferred ladies who were open and friendly. Like the woman behind the pot.
Oliver shook the thought away as he dropped onto the end of the bed to remove his boots. Miss Childs seemed to have two faces, something he could never abide. Or, he laughed at the idea; perhaps she had an identicaltwin. After all, he did.
Not that it mattered. He intended to spend only two days in London before returning to Hampshire. With any luck, their paths would not cross again.
Mrs. Barlow’s garden party was Kitty’s third social event in as many days, and she needed a moment to herself. Unfortunately, hiding outright was not an option. Her mother had still not forgiven her for disappearing during Lady Fulbourn’s musical evening two days prior, and she dared not risk another infraction so soon. Instead, she accepted a glass of lemonade from a passing footman while maintaining her inconspicuous spot near a large hedge.
Much to her delight, it was not her mother who noticed her discreet location, but a far more pleasant option. A baroness with a fair amount of silver woven through her dark hair approached. “Lady Sampson, so lovely to see you.”
“And you, Miss Childs.” The good-natured matron came to stand beside her. “How have you been? I have not seen you since Mrs. Gibb’s card party more than a week ago.”
“Very well,” Kitty replied politely. “I had hoped to see you the other night at Lady Fulbourn’s soiree.”
“I received an invitation, but had a conflict, ”Lady Sampson explained. Instead of moving on, the baroness kept by Kitty’s side and made a few comments about the guests before adding, “You seem to have found the perfect spot for people-watching.”
“That was my intention, my lady,” Kitty admitted. She used to enjoy socializing, but after two years in London she preferred to watch rather than take part.
Lady Sampson turned and raised an inquisitive brow. “To observe, but not to be observed yourself?”
“Precisely,” Kitty confirmed. If the comment had come from another society matron, she might be concerned. But she’d spent enough time with Lady Sampson to know that the affable woman was more likely to tease gently than to censure.
“There are some fine specimens to observe, to be sure,” the lady agreed lightly as three young gentlemen walked past in their superfine coats.
Kitty smiled at the baroness’s comments, as was expected. But she felt no genuine humor in the observation. While some young women found great enjoyment in watching handsome gentlemen, Kitty watched them for other reasons. It helped her feel prepared when her mother inevitably appeared with the worst specimen available.
As if summoned by Kitty’s thoughts, her mother arrived on the arm of a slender gentleman with thinning brown hair and an ungentlemanly gleam in his eye. Suppressing a groan, Kitty stepped forward at their arrival. Lady Sampson, however, took a step to the side and turned towards another guest, positioning herself where an introduction would not be necessary. Brilliant.
“Catherine, may I introduce Mr. Percival Hicks?” Her mother turned to the man at her side. “Mr. Hicks, my daughter, Miss Catherine Childs.”
The introduction continued as so many before. Kitty went through the steps with no obvious interest or disinterest,while her mother gushed over the noble connections of the man next to her. In this case, Mr. Hicks was evidently the grandson of a baron. Kitty had met several grandsons of barons in the previous two years, as well as nephews of earls, and cousins of viscounts.
“How nice,” Kitty replied politely as Mr. Hicks told them about attending a house party in Derbyshire. In truth, escaping London for a few weeks sounded pleasant. But only if it meant also escaping supposed gentlemen who could not keep their eyes on her face.
The odious man continued with several more stories before finally taking the hint. “I believe I’ve taken enough of your time.” He turned to Kitty’s mother, who had turned an unattractive shade of puce during the exchange. “Mrs. Childs.” He then nodded to Kitty and vanished into the throng.
Kitty watched the reprobate walk away before her mother leaned in and hissed softly. “What am I to do with you?” When Kitty did not respond promptly, her mother continued, “He is an unattached gentleman of consequence. You are two and twenty, three years older than I was when I married your father.”
“But nowhere near what society would consider a spinster,” Kitty retorted before biting her tongue. Snapping back rarely turned out well. Her most successful tactic was usually avoidance.
Her mother narrowed her eyes and muttered, “Unless you change your attitude, that will likely change.” With one last scoff, the matron turned on her heel and returned to the party. Spinsterhood was exactly Kitty’s goal. If things were different, she might dream of a husband and children. But as it was, a life of solitude was far preferable to marriage to anyone desperate enough to fall prey to her mother’s schemes.
Kitty just had to somehow remain unmarried for five more years. Then she would receive full control over her dowry and could set up a household of her own. Somewhere quaint, and far from London and her only living parent.
“Your mother considers Mr. Hicks a fit introduction for her daughter?” Kitty jumped as Lady Sampson reappeared at her side.
Kitty understood the baroness’s confusion. Most mothers would avoid introductions with such obvious rakes. But Priscilla Childs had somewhat different requirements for a proper introduction. All she asked was that the man be unattached, in need of funds, and possess sufficient social connections. As far as Kitty could tell, character was not a consideration. Though instead of voicing her thoughts aloud, Kitty merely stated, “It would appear so.”
“Hmm.” She could feel Lady Sampson study her. “Predators are observant as they stalk their prey. But the prey must be even more vigilant.”
Kitty turned and faced the baroness. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing, my dear.” Lady Sampson brushed off her unexpected comment. “Though I believe it is time to get you out of London.”
