‘No need to apologise, Kitty. It is only natural that you are nervous.’ Alicia smiled at her reassuringly. ‘Nonetheless, I’m confident you have nothing to fear. Now, why don’t you run along and have Mary refresh your toilette before we leave?’
If only she knew
, thought Kate as she obeyed this sensible suggestion. She wasn’t feeling nervous about the drum. Playing the debutante and meeting Alicia’s friends was something she had prepared herself for. It was no more alarming than any embarking upon any other new role.
The prospect of dancing with Randal Crawford, on the other hand, made her pulse race!
When Kate came downstairs again her companions were ready to leave. Godwin ushered them out to his comfortable carriage and, on the short journey to the Leghs’ substantial mansion in Brook Street, Kate’s initial liking for him grew. No one could have shown greater concern for their comfort or been more attentive in seeing that they were not jostled as they joined the throng queuing to crowd into the house.
Conscious of curious eyes, Kate kept her head held high as they ascended the fine oak staircase and she was introduced to her hosts.
Maria Legh was a small, bird-like woman wearing a showy profusion of Venetian lace and too much jewellery, but her smile was kind as she greeted Kate.
‘Welcome to Chester, Miss Nixon,’ she said. ‘I trust you had a good journey from America?’
Kate murmured something appropriate and then they moved on into the first of the elegant drawing rooms.
‘I don’t see Redesmere,’ Alicia declared after directing a sweeping glance over the crowd.
‘M’nevvy is always inclined to arrive late. Don’t think the boy really enjoys these kind of gatherings.’ Godwin let out a rich chuckle. ‘Too many matchmaking mamas out on the catch, if you follow my meaning!’
Realising that she had been holding her breath in anticipation, Kate gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t here to dangle after Randal Crawford, she was here to establish herself so thoroughly that Gerald Sullivan’s revelations would not be believed. The sooner she got on with the task and stopped behaving like a greensick ninny the better.
‘Charming girl, your goddaughter. Spoke to her earlier. Frederick was very taken with her too. She made him laugh! Thinks she’s got style. He can’t abide these namby-pamby misses who haven’t a word to say for themselves.’ The stout elderly woman bedecked in diamonds who had stopped by Lady Edgeworth’s chair let out a gruff chuckle of amusement. ‘Shouldn’t wonder if she sets a new trend!’
Alicia felt a tiny flicker of alarm mingling with her satisfaction as she thanked Lady Massey for her compliments. Kitty had a great deal of self-confidence for a girl of her age and, scorning the coy submissiveness currently in vogue, made no attempt to hide her intelligence or her opinions.
‘She’s a beauty too. You are going to be kept very busy, Alicia, if I’m not mistaken. But you’ll make time to bring her to our rout, eh?’
Pride overcame Alicia’s anxiety and she assented to the influential old lady’s demand with a happy smile.
Lady Massey moved away and Alicia surveyed the impromptu dance floor, which Mrs Legh had created by the simple expedient of removing most of the furniture from her second drawing room. The carpet had been taken up and the oak boards polished to a high shine while small groups of chairs had been set out at intervals around the edges of the room to enable watchful mamas to keep an eye on their darlings.
A cotillion was drawing to a close and she watched Kitty’s graceful figure with satisfaction. The child danced beautifully, an opinion she was sure Tom Egerton, her current partner, shared. One of the most notable young bachelors in Cheshire, he had made haste to obtain an introduction the minute he had clapped eyes on her goddaughter and had managed to secure two dances before her card was filled.
A smattering of applause accompanied the end of the set and the dancers began to leave the floor. Tom’s auburn head bent close to Kitty’s and Alicia felt sure that he was asking her for another dance. For a moment gratification outweighed all other considerations and then a
frisson
of apprehension penetrated her haze of delight.
Had Kitty’s Mama warned her of the impropriety of bestowing more than two dances on any gentleman? Even at a small private party like this a girl who did so would be considered fast. Perhaps the unwritten rules of polite behaviour were different in America? She should have thought to check!
To her relief she saw the sable curls shake in refusal and they began to thread their way back towards her. Tom’s expression showed his disappointment, but by the time they reached her little gilt chair he was smiling again and laughing at something Kitty had just said.
‘Thank you, Lady Edgeworth, for inviting your goddaughter to stay with you,’ he remarked enthusiastically. ‘And thank you, Miss Nixon.’ He made an extravagant bow. ‘I have never enjoyed a dance more.’
Kate responded with a curtsey, glad of the chance to drop her gaze and hide her amusement at his boyish raptures. Although her own age, he reminded her of an overgrown puppy, all bounce and enthusiasm, but she had no wish to hurt his feelings.
Somewhat to her surprise, Alicia did not encourage him to linger.
‘He is a very personable young man, but I would be failing in my duty to your Mama if I allowed him to make you an object of gossip,’ she murmured in explanation when Tom went off to rejoin his parents on the other side of the room.
There was a lull in the dancing and Alicia seized the opportunity to introduce Kate to more of the company. Trying to remember each new name Kate could feel a headache coming on. Her face ached from smiling and her throat was dry. She was tired of trying to sparkle and she couldn’t help wishing that the rooms were not so hot nor filled with the overpowering odours of perspiration, candle wax and lavish perfumes.
None of which would matter a button, of course, if the one man she wanted to see had been present!
The dancing resumed. Kate stood up for a reel with Godwin and accepted his offer to fetch her a glass of lemonade when it was over. Seeing her temporarily deserted, Tom Egerton made a beeline for her side and launched into a request that she join him over supper.
‘I know you can’t dance with me again. My mother gave me a scold. Told me I shouldn’t have asked you to,’ he muttered, colouring. ‘Nothing to offend propriety though in letting me escort you into supper, is there?’
‘I’m sorry, sir. I am already promised to Lord Redesmere.’
‘But dash it, Miss Nixon, Redesmere ain’t here!’ Tom’s round face was wreathed in protest.
Kate, who happened to be facing the door, suddenly saw that he was wrong.
Her unexpected smile dazzled Tom who was at a loss to account for it until a deep voice behind him bade them both good evening.
He spun round to behold Lord Redesmere, attired in a superbly-cut black coat. A plain white waistcoat, black pantaloons and an intricately-tied neckcloth completed the elegant picture. Tom, who was wearing his new blue coat with its wadded shoulders and wasp-waist and a bright flowered waistcoat, had a sudden uneasy feeling that he was overdressed.
Kate held out her gloved hand and Randal raised it fleetingly to his lips. ‘How do you do, Miss Nixon.’
Kate’s skin burned beneath its thin covering of white silk. Trying to ignore her rapid pulse, she frowned at him with mock severity. ‘You are very late, my lord. Had you forgotten we were engaged for the supper dance?’
‘I would never forget so pleasant a prospect, cousin.’
Tom eyed the older man with disfavour. ‘Using your family connections to steal a march on the rest of us, I see, Redesmere,’ he muttered sulkily.
Randal looked down on him from his superior height. ‘Why Tom, you amaze me! I should have thought everyone would approve of the rift in the Nixon family finally being healed,’ he retorted with a silky mockery that brought a tide of hot colour into Mr Egerton’s cherubic cheeks.
Mortified by this set-down from one whose style he secretly admired, Tom swiftly mumbled a farewell, bowed to Kate and hurried off.
‘That was not kind,’ Kate said sternly. ‘The poor boy is not up to your weight.’
‘I know. Unforgivable of me, wasn’t it, but I wanted to talk to you,’ he replied promptly.
Disarmed by his impudence, Kate let out a little chuckle.
‘How are you enjoying the party? Does it live up to your expectations?’
Kate, whose headache had completely vanished, nodded enthusiastically. ‘I think it a very elegant assembly, sir.’ An impish grin lit her face. ‘I suppose I ought not to have said that! Alicia tells me it is fashionable to appear bored, which seems a strange notion to me. At home we expect guests to try to appear pleased with their entertainment. It would be thought most impolite to complain of a
sad crush
as I have heard several people do tonight.’
‘Such ill-nature deserves a flogging,’ Randal agreed solemnly.
Amusement glinted in his brilliant eyes and Kate wasn’t sure whether he had swallowed her fiction or not. She hadn’t the least idea whether American society held such views since Kitty had not mentioned the subject, but convinced he would not be able to contradict her, it had seemed too good a chance of underlining her supposed nationality to miss.
‘You are bamming me, I think.’ Kate peeped up at him demurely through her lashes. ‘You must consider me a complete rustic.’
He laughed. ‘Not in that gown! Celestine has excelled herself.’
His gaze was admiring as he took in the way the fluid satin flowed over her shapely curves. Its lack of ornamentation and the very plainness of the style with its low round neck, high waist and tiny puffed sleeves merely emphasised the excellence of her figure.
Happiness bubbled up in Kate. ‘Take care, my lord, or I shall consider that as a compliment,’ she warned.
‘Please do,’ he responded promptly.
‘Then I stand in your debt twice over.’ Kate lifted her posy up to her face and inhaled the delicate fragrance of the pink blooms.
‘You honour me by wearing my roses. They are a poor homage to your beauty, ma’am.’
‘Oh please don’t call me that!’ Kate exclaimed involuntarily.
He raised his brows in enquiry and Kate blushed.
‘It reminds me of all the times we have quarrelled,’ she murmured, feeling flustered.
Randal understood. ‘In that case, to continue its use would be a violation of our truce,’ he agreed softly, knowing that he had previously hurled the epithet at her in icy contempt.
A contempt he no longer felt, he suddenly realised. Whether or not she proved to be an adventuress, he had begun to like her.
She was very beautiful, of course, but it was more than that. He had desired other beautiful women and he knew the difference between lust and liking. This unknown girl had spirit and intelligence. A lively sense of humour too, which was another attribute he admired. Best of all, she did not toad-eat him!
Randal was not vain, but he was under no illusions about the power of his wealth and status. Too many young women had thrown themselves at his feet for him to think otherwise. Beauties hopeful of wedding his fortune had tried every trick known to the female imagination to lure him into the parson’s mousetrap.
It was rare in his experience to meet a girl who made it clear that she didn’t give a snap of her fingers for his good opinion. And yet he did not think she was indifferent to him. On the contrary, he would have wagered a goodly part of his inheritance that the sensual attraction which plagued him whenever she was near disturbed her as well.
Made nervous by his continuing silence Kate blurted the first thing that came into her head. ‘How did you guess I would be wearing pink tonight?’
‘I asked Celestine,’ he confessed, his serious expression lightning. ‘I wanted to be sure, you see, that you would carry my flowers.’
‘You are a complete hand, sir!’ Kate grinned back at him, relieved that her impetuous remark had not spoilt their harmony.
At that moment Mr Godwin Crawford hove into view. ‘Ah nevvy! Decided to show your face at last, have you?’ He handed her glass of lemonade to Kate and shook Randal’s hand. ‘Might have known I would find you talking to the prettiest girl in the room.’
Randal’s grin broadened. ‘You’d pipped me to the post, as usual, O most revered uncle.’
Kate sipped her lemonade and listened to their banter. It was obvious that they shared a strong affection as well a distinct family resemblance.
A fleeting sadness touched her. She would have dearly liked to have been part of a close-knit family, but only her mother had ever shown her any real affection. Her father had always been cold and her grandmother’s fondness had been a shallow thing, shattering at the first frost of misfortune. As for her stepmother! Lucy had positively disliked her, no doubt due to the fact that they were almost of an age and Kate’s presence embarrassed her.
The trio of musicians hired by Mrs Legh began to tune up their instruments for the final dance before supper, snatching Kate from her gloomy thoughts.
Randal held out his arm to her. ‘It would serve me right if you gave this dance to some more deserving candidate, but I hope you won’t.’
Kate smiled at Godwin. ‘What do you think, Mr Crawford? Shall I punish your nephew for his tardiness?’
‘Jupiter no, Miss Kitty! He is staying over at my house tonight and I cannot abide long faces.’ He took her empty glass from her. ‘Be merciful to the wretch, I beg you.’
‘In the face of such eloquent advocacy, how can I refuse?’ Kate laughed.
She placed her fingers upon Randal’s sleeve. Beneath the smooth black broadcloth she could feel the hard strength of his arm and a delicious shiver went through her.
They joined the set for the quadrille and Kate strove to control her wanton thoughts and concentrate upon the dance. Some of the figures were complicated and she did not want to make a mull of it and create a bad impression.
‘You are very quiet, cousin.’ Randal directed an teasing glance at her as they touched hands. ‘Is that because you are minding your steps?’
‘Certainly not,’ Kate replied brightly.