‘Miss Bloom!’ she called in greeting, perhaps a little too loudly, for the girl jumped. Dear lord, the sensibility of these young London women was really far too much.
‘Miss Talbot,’ Miss Bloom responded, eyeing Kitty coldly. ‘Have you come to gloat?’
Ah. Kitty supposed having comforted Miss Bloom upon her doomed love, and then quickly afterwards pursued the object of her affections quite persistently, Miss Bloom was right to be a little off with her.
‘How are you finding the Season?’ Kitty asked, ignoring Miss Bloom’s words. ‘I saw you dancing with Mr Gray – he is a fine man.’
‘Oh, very fine,’ Miss Bloom said, with tremulous sarcasm. ‘Except that since you have situated yourself so firmly within Mr Crawton’s affections, I have no reason to resist my parents’ plans for my marriage to Lord Arden.’
Kitty’s shock betrayed her into impropriety.
‘Lord Arden?’ Kitty said, horrified. ‘But he’s awful – and quite twice your age!’
‘Yes, we all know you have made your opinion of Lord Arden quite clear,’ Miss Bloom snapped. She sighed, her face and voice softening into hopeless melancholy. ‘But it is no use protesting. It is not as if I have anyone else to turn to.’
When her eyes left Kitty’s to stare into the ballroom, Kitty knew who she was looking for. It was not her problem, the fate of this girl – this girl who enjoyed the best start in life and yet who was still, despite it all, losing in a fight that did not seem designed for many women to win, at all.
Kitty sighed again. It would not do. She reached down and seized the girl’s elbow, tugging her along.
‘What are you doing?’ Miss Bloom said in alarm.
‘You are feeling unwell,’ Kitty told her firmly.
‘I am not!’ she protested, trying to dig her heels in without otherwise drawing more attention to them.
‘Yes, you are,’ Kitty corrected. ‘You are feeling unwell – and dizzy – and are in need of fresh air. Please do try to keep up.’
‘I don’t understand, where are you taking me?’ Miss Bloom moaned.
‘Mr Crawton!’ Kitty called imperiously, and the man in question looked up from where he was examining a piece of artwork hung high upon the wall. He looked startled – which was quite normal for him – but upon seeing Kitty and Miss Bloom together his eyes widened even further than usual.
‘Miss Talbot?’ he said, quite uncertainly. His eyes darted to Miss Bloom again, as if unable to believe she was right in front of him.
‘Mr Crawton, you must help us,’ Kitty said urgently. ‘My dear friend Miss Bloom is feeling quite faint. Could you escort her to some fresh air while I fetch some smelling salts and her mother? Quick, may she have your arm?’
Mr Crawton sprang forward – Kitty was pleased to see that underneath that shy exterior clearly lay a strong sense of chivalry. ‘Of course!’ he said, looking at Miss Bloom with protective concern. ‘Miss Bloom, are you all right?’
‘Y-yes,’ said the lady, quite faintly. Her translucent visage lent itself quite well to their fiction, Kitty was pleased to see.
‘I will be back as quickly as I can,’ she promised, before leaning towards Miss Bloom and saying, in confidential but quite audible tones, ‘You must not worry yourself, Miss Bloom. I know you do not wish to marry Lord Arden, but there will be a way out, I am sure of it!’
She stepped back, satisfied to note that Mr Crawton had drawn himself up in outrage at her words. It was worth remembering how much men really did enjoy playing the hero, especially to ladies as pretty as Miss Bloom. She watched as Mr Crawton carefully escorted the lady onto the terrace, remaining within sight of the door, of course, for propriety’s sake, but perhaps beyond earshot of those who were within. The perfect situation – entirely proper and yet wonderfully intimate. Kitty was satisfied with her work, and glided back over to the refreshment table – unconcerned with fulfilling her promise of smelling salts. Kitty was sure Mr Crawton could take it from there. And though it had rid her of her best remaining suitor … she could not bring herself to regret it. She might still be as ruthless as a stoat, but she hoped to be a little kinder now, too.
Kitty was just deciding whether to nibble on a sweetmeat – to gather some much-needed strength before seeking out Mr Pemberton – when a low voice spoke in her ear.
‘I would have thought you too busy orchestrating your own engagement to make other matches,’ Radcliffe murmured.