Kit lifted his drink. It wasn't his problem? That was…debatable. But no matter who ought to take responsibility, the fact of the matter was, there was a ruined young woman with child staying in Gage's boardinghouse, and someone had to make sure they were cared for.
He took a sip of his drink, and when he realized Gage was still watching him with a frown, he added, "I'm handling it."
"And by 'handling it,' you mean you've convinced your aunt to pay you for escorting some young woman around London?" he said.
Kit set down the glass. "How do you know about that?" Worry had him straightening. "Are people saying that, or?—"
"No, no, of course not." Gage let out a huff of laughter. "Rumor has it you're smitten with the girl."
Kit sank back with a sigh of relief.
"But I happen to know you," Gage continued. "And your aunt. And…" He arched his brows meaningfully. "I am well aware of your predicament."
Kit nodded. Of course Gage would piece it together.
"Besides, it's my business to know everything that happens in this city." Gage leaned back in his chair. "The Dowager Duchess of Ashworth's nephew, publicly courting Cast-Off Clarissa. It's been the talk of every drawing room and card table for days."
Kit lifted his glass. "Then it's working."
"It's certainly generating conversation." Gage studied him. "Is Lady Clarissa aware?"
Kit's brows arched. "Of the financial arrangement? Yes. She overheard me negotiating the fee with my aunt, actually."
A flicker of wary amusement crossed Gage's face. "How did she take it?"
Kit opened his mouth, but paused. He wouldn't say she'd been hurt, but he could still remember the hard look in her eyes when it had come up. With a little wince, he said, "As expected."
"But she still went along with it." Gage's voice held a hint of disbelief.
Kit shrugged. "We both have a predicament. And we're in a position to help each other," he said. "Simple as that."
And yet…
He looked down into his glass.
It didn't feel all that simple at the moment. Not because playing the devoted suitor was difficult. On the contrary. It was easy. Almost too easy. He'd found himself looking forward to their next rendezvous. And when his aunt decided it would be at the Woosters' ball, he'd actually been a little disappointed.
A ball meant he'd have to share her time and attention. And that was…not ideal. But also necessary, of course. They were never meant to maintain this flirtation forever. That was the whole point.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there frowning into his glass, but Gage's next comment brought him back to the present with a start. "The mistress. Clementine. She's asking for you."
Kit stilled. He'd been keeping his distance. But he supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise that she'd want to meet.
"She's frightened, Kit. You're the only person who's shown her any kindness, and—" Gage paused, seeming to weigh his words. "She doesn't understand why you're helping her."
There are times I wonder the same. He shook his head. Of course he knew why he was helping the girl. It was for the family name. To keep up appearances. That was all.
"She wants to know…" Gage stopped, his expression guarded. "She's asking to speak to him."
"No."
"Kit—"
"It's for her own good, Gage." Kit's tone was harsher than intended. He softened it slightly and aimed for a tone of droll amusement. "He's already made his feelings clear on the matter. Best she hear the edited version from me than my father's crass story about how his mistress grew too tiresome."
Gage was quiet, but he was clearly waiting for more.
"It's the right thing to do," Kit said. "That's all. Someone needed to help the girl, and no one else was going to."
