Page 10 of To Follow her Heart

Kitty looked about and Sarah bobbed a curtsey, before discreetly leaving them alone.

“Of course not,” Kitty said with a wistful smile. “I’ve told you. I’ve no interest in anyone but Luke. Everyone tells me I must forget him but it’s impossible, and I believe it’s wrong to try.” She paused then before admitting. “My family think I have forgotten him, but I cannot, Matilda. I won’t. I love him.”

“I have concluded that love is the most wretched thing,” Matilda said, taking Kitty’s hands in hers. “It either comes at the wrong time, or not at all, with the wrong man or with the right man who doesn’t know you exist, or disappears,” she added with a wry smile. “How are we to survive such caprices?”

Kitty laughed and squeezed her friend’s hands. “With fortitude and friends to keep our spirits up,” she said, forcing a cheery determination into the words. “I shall find Luke, and all shall be well, and you shall fall desperately in love with Mr Burton.”

Matilda returned a sceptical look and sighed. “Well, I am quite as determined to try to fall in love as you are to find your missing man. So… let us put our minds to it.”

They had gathered for the evening in one of the state rooms on the south side of the house. As the party was at present friendly and intimate, this smaller drawing room—still on a lavish and opulent scale beyond anything Kitty had ever experienced—was nonetheless a little less overwhelming than some of the grander and larger rooms used for more formal occasions.

Kitty looked around at the guests. St Clair, the dowager Countess and the earl’s brother Mr Cadogan were excellent hosts and had put everyone at ease. Mr Burton had been made welcome and was already conversing Matilda, who appeared to be hanging on his every word. Harriet too, looked to be taking an interest in Mr Burton’s conversation, while her brother Henry was chatting with St Clair… who was stealing covert glances at Harriet.

Kitty’s eyes widened as she remembered Matilda’s words on the night of the fireworks, that the animosity between Harriet and St Clair was not mutual. She’d noticed nothing that evening, too enthralled by the fireworks to pay them much mind but now….

So, that’s how it was.

Tucking that intriguing bit of information away to mull over with Matilda later, she carried on perusing the guests as Prue and Robert, the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin entered the room.

Though she looked every bit the duchess now, Kitty didn’t doubt that Prue’s fingers were ink stained beneath her pristine white evening gloves. A writer of some renown, she had met the duke when she’d cast him—rather cruelly—as the villain of her romantic story.

Prue grinned as Matilda and Harriet and Kitty hurried to meet her.

“Hello, darlings,” she said with a bright grin. “How wonderful to see you here! I am looking forward to this. Have I missed any gossip yet?”

Matilda laughed and slid her arm through Prue’s. “Not a thing. We were waiting for you so you could write it all down and make a scandalous novel about us.”

“Oh, you can smile, Tilda,” Prue said with a wicked glint in her eyes. “But I shall be taking notes.”

Matilda laughed as Prue turned her attention to Kitty.

“So, Kitty, the dare. Are you all prepared?”

Kitty grinned and nodded. The dare she’d picked from the hat had been to dress St Clair’s taxidermy bear—which lived in his study—in evening clothes. Harriet had filched some of Henry’s old clothes especially for the occasion.

“Harriet’s organised everything,” she said. “So, I don’t feel I can take much credit, but yes. Later tonight when the men have their port….”

***

Dinner was an informal affair, and yet the table was still the most lavish at which Kitty had ever sat. They were a little late in sitting down after some last-minute adjustments when some of the guests had failed to appear.

Jerome—Mr Cadogan—had explained that a Mr Derby, his daughter, Miss Sybil Derby and a cousin of theirs—the heir to the Earl of Trevick—had sent word that they would be late. The cousin was something of a mystery, Jerome informed them, plucked from obscurity as the earl’s last remaining heir. No one seemed to know a thing about him. He’d been abroad for many years and had only just returned to England. Jerome was interested to meet him as they were of an age, but their carriage had broken an axle en route and so they would not arrive in time for dinner whilst repairs were being made.

Kitty was more interested in the meal than another nobleman. There were enough lofty titles about the table to make her feel like an imposter as it was.

The first course alone was awe-inspiring, with dozens of dishes including crawfish soup, fillet of veal, loin of beef, petit patties, five roast chickens, pigeon fillets in a rich sauce, a turkey, and a ham.

Kitty accepted a bowl of soup and endeavoured not to look as overwhelmed as she felt. She’d been to some grand dinners over the past season, but none with so illustrious a family.

“Do you ever feel the need to pinch yourself?” Mr Burton murmured to her in an undertone.

Kitty looked up and smiled at him. “Not usually, but tonight….” She glanced around to see the Duke of Bedwin sitting a little to her left—to the right of the dowager countess and up to the head of the table where the Earl of St Clair was speaking to Lady Frances Grantham, daughter of the Duke of Lymington. “Yes, tonight it seems a little daunting.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial grin. “Lady Frances has already refused to speak with me.”

Kitty’s eyes widened with horror. “She never did!”

Mr Burton nodded, his expression wry. “Oh, it was expertly done, with the least amount of stir, but after we’d been introduced, she pretended not to have heard my opening gambit and turned to speak to Mr Cadogan.”