She was not quite sure what it was she was cross about, and why she was targeting her ire at him of all people – only that she was aware once again of feeling uncomfortably seen by him, aware of that heavy gaze upon her. This gentleman notices, she reminded herself: he doesn’t just see, and she wasn’t sure she could bear it any more.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Well, let me think!’ she said brightly, beginning to take off her cloak with quick ungraceful movements. ‘I am not, as I had planned to be by the end of the evening, engaged to Mr Pemberton. I am not, as I thought I was, a sister kind enough not to disregard Cecily to such a degree that she felt elopement a natural way of getting my attention.’ She tossed the cloak to the side, uncaring of where it fell. ‘I am, however, still in possession of a large quantity of debt and – oh yes – absolutely no closer to solving any of it.’ She was fumbling now with the buttons on her gloves, but her hands were too cold to gain much traction on the silk, and in a fit of rage began to flap them ineffectually in the air. ‘So yes, I’m very well,’ she said.
She continued to struggle with the gloves until her left hand was caught in mid-air by one larger than her own. Motioning for her to hold it still, Radcliffe bent and began calmly to undo the tiny buttons along the inside of her arm. She watched him, wrong-footed. He made quick but careful work of the left glove and pulled gently at the fingertips to loosen it off her hand. It suddenly felt very intimate, though he had not touched her skin once, and despite the chilliness of the room, she felt a rush of warmth. Kitty proffered the other arm automatically when he gestured for her to do so, and stared at his bent head, the furious wind quite taken out of her sails.
It was so like him to startle her like this.
‘I hope you know – I am very grateful for your actions tonight. For what you did for Cecy,’ she said at last, as he was nearing her wrist. The last button was proving tricky, and he frowned over it. She wondered if he might be able to feel the pulse of her heartbeat through the fabric.
‘And I you,’ he said, not looking up. ‘For fetching Archie from that place. It was very brave – braver than any one person has a right to be.’
She blushed, fierily, and hated herself for it.
‘Yes, well,’ she said awkwardly. ‘He did not deserve it.’
He pulled at the right glove now, gently, the slither of silk a whisper over her skin, and then handed the pair of them back to her.
‘Life does not always go to plan,’ Radcliffe reminded her. ‘And we have both made mistakes where our families are concerned. Archie fell into real danger tonight, and I have been too distracted to notice the signs and was entirely too arrogant to accept your warning. This could have caused irreversible damage to his life and I would never have forgiven myself. I can only apologise to him and try to do better.’
They looked at one another. The room was quiet but for the crackle of the fire, and they both observed it and each other, waiting. Waiting to see what would happen next, as though – whatever it was – was quite inevitable, and they need only wait for its arrival. The silence lingered for one moment, then another. Kitty could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and she squeezed her gloves tightly between her palms. She drew in a sharp breath, unable to bear it a second longer – but then, a loud crash from upstairs interrupted them. They both looked up, listening to the sounds of Cecily stomping about.
Radcliffe picked up his hat. ‘I shall leave you to get some rest,’ he said. ‘And I shall see you Monday night.’
Archie was talking amicably to Lawrence by the curricle when Radcliffe descended, his mood seeming to be very much restored.
‘Home?’ he asked Radcliffe, a mix of relief and dread in his face.
‘Home,’ Radcliffe confirmed. ‘Let us practise what we are going to say to Mama.’
Archie groaned. ‘It’s going to be awful, isn’t it?’
‘The worst,’ Radcliffe agreed. ‘Apologise profusely – don’t give any excuses – and try to hug her as soon as you can. She loves you; she just doesn’t want to see you hurt.’
‘Perhaps she won’t have noticed I was gone,’ Archie said, though without much hope. ‘I feel such a fool.’
‘We must allow ourselves to be fools, every now and then – and especially when we are young,’ Radcliffe told him. ‘I do not even have the excuse of youth. I should have helped you more, Archie, seen that you needed someone to talk to. Though I wish, too, that you would have come to me.’