Page 7 of To Steal a Kiss

Too late now. Far, far too late.

So, now he tried to make amends. Matilda had lost her father and her future the very same night, and whilst his father’s sins were not his, he might have saved her reputation. If only he’d not gone out that night, if only he’d gone to her at once… if only the Marquess of Montagu wasn’t such a cold bastard, and far too powerful to touch.

Instead, Nate lavished his sister with every luxury she could possibly want, anything to ease the guilt at having stolen her future from her. She ought to have made a grand match by now, beauty that she was. She ought to be happily married with children at her feet, the only thing Matilda had ever really wanted.

Instead he’d condemned her to a life where she would never catch the eye of a respectable man, not as a wife at least. She never told him how many men had made indecent proposals, but he knew they did. Still, she faced them down. Wherever possible, she went out and mingled with those who shunned her, holding her head high, daring them to say it to her face. God, but he admired her courage, even as it broke his heart.

So, now she’d have him play besotted fool to her mousy friend, a creature too timid to find a man by herself. Well, if that was what Tilda wanted, he could hardly refuse. He just hoped to God the girl wasn’t too insipid; he’d never been much of an actor.

With a grimace, Nate shook his head, and finished his drink.

***

14th June 1814. The Ransoms’ Ball. London.

Alice clutched at the glass of ratafia in her hand, so tightly it was a wonder she didn’t shatter it, though dropping it was more likely, given the way her palms were sweating. Less dramatic perhaps, but just as embarrassing and far more in character.

“Do stop fretting, Alice,” Matilda said, low enough that only she could hear. “There’s nothing to be worried about. It will be marvellous.”

“Who is he?” Alice asked, finally getting up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing her ever since she’d agreed to this madness. Whether or not she had the courage to hear the answer was another matter. Running from the room, from the building, and possibly from London seemed a far more appealing prospect.

Where could she go and hide? Grimsby, perhaps? She’d never been there but it sounded grim and awful, the kind of place that could swallow up a wallflower, so she’d never be seen again. Alice felt a rush of fondness for it.

She was losing her mind.

“Someone I trust,” Matilda said, her blue eyes full of reassurance. “A good man, and a handsome one too. Just don’t fall in love with him,” she added, a teasing note to her voice.

Alice gaped at Matilda in astonishment.

“I’m more worried about stammering, fainting or possibly throwing myself off the balcony, though all three are a distinct possibility,” she muttered. Of all the idiotic, hare-brained schemes—”

“Hello, Alice, Matilda.”

Both women looked around as Kitty Connolly greeted them. She was a pretty girl with thick dark hair and laughing eyes and had gained a place among the ranks of the Peculiar Ladies by simple virtue of being Irish. No amount of dowry and beauty could make up for such a crime in the eyes of the ton.

“Is it true you’re going to complete your dare tonight?” Kitty asked, clutching at Alice’s arm.

“W-Well—” Alice stammered, wondering if this might be the time to talk her way out of it.

“Yes,” Matilda cut in, giving her a stern look. “Yes, it is.”

“How exciting!” Kitty exclaimed. “Tell me everything, who is…?”

She trailed off, eyes growing wide as they focused on something, or someone, across the ballroom. Alice thought she caught a flash of red hair in the crowd.

“Kitty?” Matilda asked as the colour drained from Kitty’s face, only to be replaced by a bright flush across her cheeks. “Are you quite well?”

“I-I,” Kitty stammered, breathing hard. “I thought I saw someone… I….”

Without another word, she took off, careering across the ballroom, knocking into people left and right, heedless of their exclamations and curses.

“Whatever was that about?” Alice asked as they stared after her.

“I have no idea and, really, who knows with Kitty?” Matilda added, shaking her head. “Of all our number, I feel I know her the least.”

Alice nodded, frowning at the dark-haired girl as the crowds swallowed her up. Kitty was something of an enigma, but one thing Alice did know about her was that she was brave. To Alice, she seemed utterly fearless. No doubt she wouldn’t think twice about meeting a strange man on a balcony. Alice, by contrast… thinking was the only thing she’d done, the only thing she’d ever do, as she simply couldn’t go through with it.

“Matilda,” she said, spurred on by anxiety and desperation. “I can’t… I just—”