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A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(59)

Author:Sophie Irwin

She and Mr Stanfield had already danced once this evening, a quadrille, but Kitty’s eyes had been drawn to him over and over through the night. Often, she would look over to find him already looking back, their gazes dragging against each other’s for long moments again and again, making her heart beat faster inside her chest. It was a flirtation that was no less thrilling for it taking place from across a ballroom and Kitty did not want to miss a second of it.

Not being able to see Mr Stanfield at that moment, Kitty cast idly about for Cecily, instead. For someone who claimed to have no interest in balls, Cecily disappeared confidently enough into the crowds these days. Was that her? Kitty frowned. She had seen a glimpse of a pink-dressed figure partially hidden by the bulk of that detestable lech Lord Arden, and craned her neck to get a better view. There were so many people squashed in the room, it was hard to see. Yes, there was Cecily … shrinking back from Lord Arden, who was quite towering over her. Kitty moved purposefully forward, cutting through the crowd like a hot knife through butter.

‘Cecily!’ she called, as soon as she was within hearing distance.

‘Ah – Miss Talbot,’ Lord Arden sent Kitty an oily smile, quite unperturbed by her sudden appearance. ‘I was just asking for your sister’s hand for the next set.’

His eyes roved avariciously over Cecily’s form and Cecily took an involuntary step back. Kitty stepped forward.

‘I’m afraid my sister’s dance card is full,’ she said firmly. Lord Arden’s eyebrows rose haughtily.

‘And yet she is not dancing now,’ he said softly, upper lip beginning to sneer.

‘Why, every lady needs a rest, my lord,’ Kitty said, baring her teeth in a smile. ‘I’m sure you understand.’

Lord Arden was not to be deterred. ‘There are many dances this evening,’ he cajoled. ‘I am sure, Miss Cecily, that you will be well rested enough for one of them.’

‘Her dance card is full,’ Kitty insisted. Weaker characters might consider the attentions of this loathsome man to be a necessary tax, but Kitty did not. ‘And I would suggest, my lord, that you consider it permanently full.’

There was an audible gasp and Kitty looked over to see an eavesdropping Lady Kingsbury clap her hand over her mouth in theatrical shock. Lord Arden turned purple with mortification.

‘Never,’ he said, voice shaking with anger, ‘never have I been so insulted in my life.’

He stalked away. Lady Kingsbury was still staring at them. Kitty looked at her, expecting to find sympathy in the lady’s face – after all, they all knew very well what Arden was – but Lady Kingsbury merely shook her head with a little smile, before quite obviously turning her back upon them. The cut direct.

‘Do you think he was very cross?’ Cecily whispered.

‘I do not think he will bother you again,’ Kitty said, not much caring if he was or not. ‘Come, let’s find some champagne.’

Yet even as she spoke, the fissures of gossip from this confrontation were spidering their way through the ball like cracks in a flagstone. Even as they picked their way through the masses in search of the supper room, a slight chill began to emanate from the crowd. She noticed that there were more eyes looking in her direction than was usual – judgemental eyes, too. She smiled at Mrs Sinclair as they passed each other, but the lady avoided her gaze. Strange – what could she have done to offend her? By the third time this had happened, Kitty began to realise something had gone very wrong.

‘What is this I hear about you being terribly rude?’ Mr Stanfield’s voice spoke quietly in her ear. Kitty turned quickly.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her heart beating a little fast.

Mr Stanfield chuckled. ‘Rumour is you gave Arden the most egregious and vulgar set down. Well done, I say.’

He seemed to find the whole thing amusing, but Kitty could not bring herself to laugh with him.

‘Do people really care?’ she asked. ‘I did not think he was much liked.’

‘Oh, you know them,’ he said with a careless wave of the hand. ‘Best not to pay attention. Anyway, I came to say farewell – I must escort my mother home.’

He left her, and Kitty stared around the ballroom. You know them, he had said. But Kitty did not. She had not expected this reaction in the slightest. After all, she had heard most of the women here complain of Lord Arden’s wandering hands at least once. And yet it seemed that the unwritten rule was that one could only condemn him behind his back and never to his face. And while the likes of Lady Jersey could be considered rude without it having consequences for her reputation, it was becoming very clear that Kitty could not.

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