Chapter 16

Watching Lady Veronica enter a salon was a little like the descriptions Kitty had heard of tigers stalking their prey. She was not ostentatious, nor did she rely on colourful plumage; she laid in wait, watching, assessing, and picked the perfect moment to strike. She was more akin to an ambush predator than anything else. Kitty had always thought that she knew every trick there was to working a room, but even she had to admit that Lady Veronica had much to teach her.

The viscountess had chosen the place to make her re-entrance into society carefully: It was a salon-come-luncheon, casual but respectable. Much of society was still out of London, but a few were beginning to straggle back in for the holiday season. It was not an occasion that would require diamonds and tiaras, but Lady Veronica made a great effort at digging out her best lace pieces. It was Kitty's duty to stand quietly at Lady Veronica's elbow, ready to step in whenever called upon.

They remained at the fringes of the gathering, Lady Veronica accepting the greetings and condolences with equal gravity and graciousness. Kitty, meanwhile, had been given the task of locating one Mr. Archibald Maddox, a man who was carrying a significant amount of the debt regarding the development project. She had only the vaguest of descriptions, and was at last forced to rely on asking another chaperone who was attempting to be invisibly-visible.

"Might you know which of these gentlemen is Mr. Maddox?" Kitty whispered, leaning closer to the woman, her face obscured by the wide wings of her bonnet. The chaperone turned toward her, revealing a face settling firmly into middle age, and a thin mouth.

"I believe he is in the drawing room still, listening to the reading," the chaperone returned quietly, her lips barely moving. Her watery eyes flicked to Lady Veronica. "Your mistress wishes to speak with him?"

Kitty resisted the urge to correct the chaperone; she had come dressed simply, even a little humbly, at Lady Veronica's behest. She had rankled a little, perturbed that her first foray back into society was to be in a dress that was neither grey nor brown, with scarcely a ruffle or pinked trim in sight, but she quickly realised the role she needed to play. It was easy to mistake her for a lady's maid, possibly even a nurse; much like her dress, her position was nondescript, easy to change at a moment's notice.

So Kitty was content, for the moment, to let the chaperone believe her to be a lady's maid. Her time downstairs had taught her that servants had a world unto themselves, and they saw much more than anyone would like to believe. Clearly, Lady Veronica had brought Kitty dressed as she was in the hopes that she would be able to tap into this information network.

"Yes," Kitty replied, matching the tone and surreptitious manner of speaking of the chaperone. "She is most eager to do so, in fact."

The chaperone's eyes flicked in the direction of Lady Veronica, and then the drawing room in question. "Matters of banking then, I presume?"

"I couldn't say," Kitty demurred, as was only proper. "Do you know what sort of man he is?"

The chaperone looked thoughtful, considering. "I've had no dealings with him, personally, mind you," she said, leaning in a little closer, "but I am given to understand that he is partial to flattery."

"Show me a man that is not," Kitty quipped, earning her a quick huff of laughter from the chaperone.

Their conversation was cut short then, for the chaperone had to move off in order to keep a weather eye on her charge. Kitty felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with envy then, remembering her own halcyon days of being a bright young thing flitting about social events.

No time for that, Kitty said, silently sidling her way up to Lady Veronica again, who was receiving the attentions of a grey-haired matron.

"I do sympathise with you," the older lady was saying, fluttering a black lace fan that lifted a few tight curls on her forehead. "There's a great many of us that know what it is to lose a husband so young."

"You are a treasure for thinking I have lost my dear viscount while still young," Lady Veronica replied, smiling indulgently. "It is a hard thing, learning to navigate the world on one's own."

The other woman gave Lady Veronica a sidelong glance. Before she could reply in a manner that would surely irritate the viscountess, Kitty stepped forward, keeping her hands clasped low at her waist and her gaze down.

"My lady, Mr. Maddox awaits you in the drawing room," she murmured, just loud enough to be overheard. This was not entirely true, but Kitty needed a way to impart the information and extract the viscountess all at once.

Lady Veronica, without missing a beat, let out a heavy sigh. "Do forgive me, Lady Jersey," she said, laying a hand on the other woman's arm. "I must take my leave."

The viscountess looped her arm through Kitty's, as if she needed either the comfort or support of her companion. Kitty, knowing the part she still had to play, patted Lady Veronica gently on the arm. Careful to keep her face the neutral mask expected of servants, Kitty tipped her head closer to Lady Veronica's, and whispered what she had learned.

They broached the door of the drawing room, where there were still bookstands at the front of the room, but now abandoned. The guests had withdrawn to one corner of the room, where it was clear that someone else was holding court. For her part, Kitty could not keep herself from looking about hungrily at the silks and satins, the feathers in hats, and oh, the ruffles on the hems!

"Oh," Lady Veronica said quietly, her voice rife with disappointment, "it seems we are too late for the reading."

One of the fellows standing at the back of the crowd ringed around a speaker turned and gave a little bow in Lady Veronica's direction. Kitty knew him at once, Sir Hayes, the young heir to the squireship at North Downs. He had the dark hair and eyes of his father, but dressed simply, humbly even, in a grey worsted wool jacket and plainly knotted cravat. Kitty had danced with him more than once, feeling a superior sort of pity for him when she did so, as if she were bestowing a great honour upon this poor country lad.

I see that I am to be humbled much today through irony , Kitty thought dryly. Subtly, she angled herself away, not wishing to be recognised; that would not help the case that they were coming to press. She ducked her head a little, hoping that her transformation was complete enough to pass inspection.

"The reading is over, but Mr. Maddox has been kind enough to expound on some of his thoughts on the modern system of banking," Sir Hayes said lowly, tilting his head toward where the crowd pressed in.

"Oh, is that the great Mr. Maddox, then?" Lady Veronica said, raising her voice slightly. "I was so hoping to see him today; such a good friend of my late husband's."

Kitty glanced up to see Sir Hayes taking in Lady Veronica's wardrobe, a dusty lavender day dress with black velvet ribbons at her neck and wrists. It was fashionable, but clearly the garb of a widow still in half-mourning. Immediately, Sir Hayes dipped his head in recognition of the loss, his forehead creasing sympathetically.

"Please, my dear lady, allow me to take you to him then," he said, offering his arm to Lady Veronica and bowing again. "I apologise for my forwardness, as we have not even been properly introduced, but I should hate to see you grow fatigued from waiting."

Kitty quietly dug the fingernails of her right hand into her wrist, using this as a means of keeping her emotions under control. She felt well and truly guilty now, not simply because they were playing up on this kind young man's sympathies and sense of chivalry, but also because she had thought rather shabbily of him in the past. She had dismissed him out of hand because his jackets were simple and worn at the cuffs, or his weskit was plain and unfashionable. His face was long and lean, with a prominent nose and chin made worse by large, thick teeth; someone had snippily remarked once at Newmarket that he looked as if he ought to be running the course himself, and Kitty's face grew hot with shame as she remembered that she had laughed.

My whole life has become an exercise in looking through a glass darkly at all I once was and held dear, she thought to herself, feeling oddly removed from all of it for a moment.

Sir Hayes was as good as his word, and Lady Veronica laid her hand upon his elbow, smiling up gratefully at him. "What a good lad you are," she said, all motherly affection, and Sir Hayes preened under her praise.

Gently, that good fellow nudged his way up through the crowd, which parted only grudgingly. Kitty, hanging back, had only a limited view of what transpired next.

"Mr. Maddox," Sir Hayes said, his voice rising above the general din, "I have brought the widow of an old friend of yours, who wishes to renew your acquaintanceship: Lady Veronica Cluett, wife of the late Viscount Cluett."

There was a pregnant silence that followed for a moment, a little stunned on both parts. It was an unusual introduction, and Kitty could tell by the tension in Lady Veronica's back that she was not all-together pleased by it. Likewise, it seemed that Mr. Maddox was a little agog at being addressed in such a way, as it was a little untoward for women to proclaim that they wished to be better acquainted with a man, widow or no.

"I am always glad to be reminded of old friends," Mr. Maddox said at last, having recovered.

Oddly enough, Lady Veronica said nothing, which was most unusual. Kitty, growing alarmed, wriggled her way forward, through the spectators who were beginning to exchange glances and whispers at the strange scene. She sidled up next to Lady Veronica, glancing to her face and then down—down?—to Mr. Maddox.

Kitty was about average height for a woman of her age, not particularly short, but neither was she a giantess. Lady Veronica, who was quite a specimen of height, was a solid couple inches taller than she, which she emphasised by continuing to wear shoes in a style no longer in favour with solid block heels. Mr. Maddox, however, was shorter than both of them, reaching up only to about the mid-point of Kitty's nose.

Kitty knew that she should not stare, it was imperative that this man have a favourable impression of them, but it simply couldn't be helped. Compounding the problem was that the top of his head was completely devoid of hair, and shined as if a footman had come by and applied furniture polish to it. It drew Kitty's eye like a lighthouse out at sea.

Thankfully, just as Mr. Maddox's long forehead was beginning to crease in consternation, Lady Veronica appeared to come to her senses.

"Please, forgive me, Mr. Maddox," she said, her voice low and thick with some sort of emotion. "It's just that—oh, you will think me a sentimental old fool," she said, withdrawing a handkerchief from one of her sleeves and dabbing at her eyes. "I could hear my husband's voice for a moment when I saw your face, and all of the kind things he said about you."

Kitty's eyes darted back and forth between Lady Veronica and Mr. Maddox, unsure how the blatant flattery would be taken. The entire crowd in the drawing room was engrossed as well, having been pulled into this little drama. Kitty also suspected that this was deliberate, as an audience usually was a guarantee of better behaviour than in private.

At length, Mr. Maddox's face split into a grin, and he reached forward to take Lady Veronica's hand. "My dear Lady Cluett," he said, "you have been very much in my thoughts these past weeks. Please, why don't we take a turn through the house and see what we remember about your husband together?"

Lady Veronica bestowed on him another smile, which was warmly received. Deftly, she slipped her arm out of Sir Hayes', and laid her hands on Mr. Maddox's proffered elbow. An amused grin threatened to break onto Kitty's face, and she had to work to keep it contained. She was preparing to follow Lady Veronica from the room at an appropriate distance when she felt someone staring at her. Glancing up, she saw that it was Sir Hayes, who was watching her with a curious look, head tilted.

Quickly, before he could say anything to her, she ducked her head and hurried after Lady Veronica. To her great surprise, she realised that she did not want to be recognised, to cause a great scene with her return to polite society.

Who could have suspected, she mused as she glided along, silent and watchful, that there was more to life than being the gilded lily of the party.