Archie spluttered. Radcliffe inhaled his snuff rather more sharply than he had intended.
‘I don’t have one,’ Archie admitted, turning to his brother and asking, ‘should I?’
‘No,’ he replied calmly, at the same time as Miss Talbot continued, ‘It would help you scare such fellows off, in future. Shooting is not so hard, with a little practice. Forgive me, I believe my aunt requires my attention.’
She bustled off, glad to be free of them both, and they stared after her – for once, quite united in their speechlessness.
17
Miss Talbot did not expect to be able to find a husband in just one night – she might be green, but she was not so naive as that – but she was pleased to have attracted a good deal of attention so far, aided immeasurably by her association with the de Lacys.
While many of the men she spoke to would of course be motivated more by curiosity than anything serious, she fancied that at least some of them might call upon her the next day – and she made it very clear that she would be amenable to this attention. Favourable first impressions established, all that was left was the dancing.
As per their arrangement, she had held the first spot in her dance card free for Radcliffe, but even as other couples were seizing the hands of their partners, she could not spot him in the crowd. If she had saved the first one for him in vain – well, he would not like the consequences. She scanned the crowd for his tall figure. The crowd parted a little, and she spotted him walking towards her – rather as one might approach the gallows – and he proffered his hand in invitation with a faintly ironic bow.
‘I believe I am promised to you for this dance?’ he said, voice courteous but words a wicked twist on the usual declaration. She took his hand graciously, wishing she were able to give him her best scowl.
‘You took your time,’ she said to him sweetly, with a tight grip upon his arm.
‘I’m being blackmailed, you see,’ he explained politely, as he escorted her towards the dance floor. ‘The anxiety of which does not lend itself to punctual timekeeping.’
‘You would have been more anxious had you not upheld our deal,’ she said serenely.
‘A gentleman’s honour can always be trusted. I only wish they might say the same of a lady’s,’ he rejoined.
Kitty forbore from returning a riposte, aware, as they took their places – they were to start with a country dance – of hundreds of eyes upon them. She smiled, for the first time this evening with genuine feeling. Yes, this would do quite nicely. The elusive Lord Radcliffe, nary glimpsed in polite society for two years, now dancing with the unknown – and very dashing – Miss Talbot? This would put her firmly upon the map.
‘You are looking very pleased with yourself,’ Radcliffe told her, without pleasure. ‘I cannot believe that dancing with me will do so much for you.’
The violins struck up. He bowed, she curtseyed.
‘You are a man and know very little besides,’ she said dismissively. ‘This is everything.’
They moved silently for a few beats, as the steps of the dance brought them together and then apart.
‘Have you a shortlist yet?’ he enquired, when they were next within intimate speaking distance. ‘Of possible victims?’
‘If you mean suitors,’ she answered, ‘then not as such. I have conversed with so many men this evening it is difficult to keep track.’
Coming from another, this would be the most shameless boast – but Kitty delivered it in tones of mild aggrievement that made clear to Radcliffe she truly was distressed by the challenge of keeping so many names straight in her head.
‘Mr Pemberton and Mr Gray seemed most particular, however,’ she went on. ‘And Mr Stanfield of course is very charming.’
‘Lord Hanbury didn’t make an impression, then? Or Lord Arden?’ he said, with a smirk upon his lips. ‘I saw you conversing with them both at length.’
‘I am a realist,’ she told him primly. Lord Arden, it was already clear to Kitty, was quite the biggest lech in the whole of London. ‘Besides, I would never set my sights upon a lord.’
He looked a little surprised at this.
‘A titled man has far less freedom to choose his own path,’ she explained. ‘It would not be a sensible move.’
‘For once we are in agreement,’ he said. ‘Any man with a title would consider it his duty to find out everything about his future wife – and not a single one of my acquaintance would countenance such a background as yours.’