‘And what about us meeting the de Lacys in the first place, hmm? What about Almack’s? You did those things, Cecily, not I. I should not have been able to do any of that without you.’
Cecily flushed in pleasure, Kitty’s confession giving her the courage to ask the question she had been dying to all evening. ‘Do you mean to keep Rupert and me apart from now on?’ she whispered.
Kitty exhaled slowly. ‘No,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But this is not without difficulty. If he even whispers a breath of your elopement to anyone—’
‘He won’t!’ Cecily protested vehemently.
‘Be that as it may. You need to understand the difficulties of this attachment – if you are to aim this high, Cecily, it is very important to think the whole plan through. To be clever about it.’
Another nod, more eager now.
‘Then I shall do my best to help you,’ Kitty said. ‘Thankfully, if Mr Pemberton does propose – which he may not, after tonight – we shall be much better positioned than we are currently upon the social scene. It might not be so implausible then.’
‘Do you want him to?’ Cecily asked timidly.
‘Want who to what?’ Kitty asked.
‘Mr Pemberton, to propose.’
‘Why of course!’ Kitty said, very brightly.
‘After tonight, I thought your feelings might be attached elsewhere,’ Cecily said simply.
Kitty shook her head. ‘They cannot be,’ she said, speaking through a tight throat. ‘It is quite impossible.’
‘Is it? Even after tonight …’
But Kitty was shaking her head again.
‘I cannot speak of it. Let us go to bed now, Cecy. It has been a long, long day.’
Despite this, after they had blown out the candles, Cecily and Kitty whispered longer still into the night. They talked of home, of their other sisters, exchanged sleepy ideas of how to secure Lady Montagu’s approval of Cecily, until – most unusually – it was Kitty who fell asleep first, almost mid-sentence.
Cecily closed her eyes, too. Her heart went out to her older sister. There was such a tragic irony to the whole thing, Cecily thought – almost Greek, really – for Kitty to discover only at this juncture that she was in love with Archie de Lacy after all.
The storm had not broken by dawn. The sisters woke late and – after Kitty had given Sally the day off, and most of their remaining coins as meagre thanks for the great service she had done their family – they spent the day sequestered in the parlour, warming themselves by the fire and watching the rain.
‘Is there anything you would like to … see, tomorrow?’ Kitty asked Cecily, as they sipped on hot chocolate. ‘The Marbles again? I know our last visit was brief. Or the museums?’
Cecily smiled, recognising this for the olive branch it was. The next day, the skies were dry and they saw much, Cecily ticking off all the London sights she had most wanted to visit. They started with the Marbles, again, and then walked almost the whole length of the British Museum, gazing at its artefacts. They spent some time browsing the shelves in the library, before finding themselves at Astley’s Amphitheatre for the rest of the afternoon. Cecily was a little disappointed to find that the Physic Garden was closed for the day, but was appeased when Kitty promised they could come back tomorrow.
‘Really?’ she asked.
‘We have time, still,’ Kitty nodded. She took in a deep breath of the warm summer air. ‘Isn’t London beautiful, today?’
‘“Earth has not any thing to show more fair,”’ quoted Cecily.
‘Just so,’ Kitty agreed.
They returned to Wimpole Street only as the light was fading to ready themselves for the evening. There they found Aunt Dorothy, calmly sipping tea in the parlour.
‘Well,’ she said, eyeing them critically. ‘Sally tells me you had an exciting weekend – though all was resolved, I take it, to satisfaction?’
Kitty was glad that Sally had not been able to keep the news to herself, for it saved her from having to break the whole story to her aunt. Though Aunt Dorothy was not looking nearly so disapproving as Kitty would have expected. On the contrary, a little smile was playing around her mouth and a pleased flush was visible on her cheeks.
‘Yes, we were lucky in the end,’ Kitty agreed, eyeing Aunt Dorothy carefully. ‘How was Kent?’
‘Not without excitement, itself,’ Aunt Dorothy said. She set down her cup with a clink. ‘In fact, my girls, I have a little news of my own. I am now married.’