Chapter 21

Keep your head down , Kitty repeated to herself, over and over like a liturgy. Do not look at him. Do your duty.

Humiliation and embarrassment did not make for good dining companions, and they soured the taste of all the food on the table. This was more than a little bit of a shame, for Cook had been given permission to flex her skills; the smells from the dishes alone would have been enough to whet even the pickiest of appetites. Glazed fruits, sugar sculptures, a large roasted joint of meat, game pies with decorative crusts, and every manner of roasted vegetable was spread across the table. Orange blossoms and lavender were scattered about the table too, peaking from between the dishes.

There were also different wines on offer, arrayed in different glasses like jewels. Sir Wright seemed pleased by this fact, taking frequent and generous swigs from the wine glasses. He ate little, taking portions from everything, tasting with relish as if he were there simply to assess the quality of the cooking.

Kitty knew that it was her job to keep Sir Wright happy and entertained, and she did her very best. She called upon all of her years of training, all of her skill in society to complete this task. It was daunting, for Sir Wright had long been in the company of the Prince Regent, and was used to that set; they had a certain reputation , and Kitty was not sure how she could keep up with that and still maintain her self-respect.

Still, she figured the safest course of action would be to laugh appreciatively at all of his attempts at humour, blushing prettily. This seemed to mollify him a bit, which was about all she could be expected to manage as she pretended to eat.

She was also grateful for Lady Veronica's penchant for large floral arrangements on the table. This allowed Kitty to pretend that Seth was not there at all, for he was completely blocked from her view. If she'd had to endure this ghastly dinner with Seth's eyes on her, she was not sure she could cope.

"Don't you agree, Miss Catherine?" Sir Wright asked suddenly, breaking into Kitty's reflecting.

Startled, she put on one of her gentle little smiles. "I'm sure that I do, Sir Wright," she said.

Sir Wright did not frown precisely, but he did lift his chin a fraction, assessing Kitty. She was not sure what she had just agreed to, but she knew that it was imperative that she be on her guard.

No time for day-dreaming , she chided herself.

"Lady Veronica has told me that you are quite a clever girl," Sir Wright said, lifting his red wine glass and swirling it about a little. "I am wondering now if she was being entirely truthful," he continued, not even bothering to look at her.

From across the table, Kitty could hear a chair scrape against the floor. Desperately, Kitty took a chance and stretched her leg out as far as she dared, tapping Seth on what she hoped was his shin. It would not do to cause a scene, not now.

"Lady Veronica is always most generous in her praise," Kitty said, turning a beatific look upon her benefactor. "For instance, she described yourself as a stalwart example of a gentleman," she continued, fluttering her eyelashes a little.

Sir Alexander quirked an eyebrow at Kitty, his mouth pursing slightly. He was caught: Either Lady Veronica was a shameless flatterer, or she had lied regarding Kitty. He inclined his head again, acknowledging the predicament.

"That's kind of her to say," Sir Wright said at last. "I am used to being invited to dinners and having young ladies flung at me from every quarter," he continued. "They seem to think that simply because I was the Prince's attaché for years that I will bring them into rarefied circles. It is nice to hear genuine praise for once, from someone who surely has no ulterior motives."

Kitty glanced at Lady Veronica, who was busy staring daggers down the table. "Oh," Kitty said with a light laugh, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin. Sir Wright's eyes followed the motion, his fingers curling a little more tightly about his wine glass. "My mother taught me long ago the best way to deal with powerful men in such high positions," she said coyly.

"Oh? And pray tell, what is that?" Sir Wright asked, turning a little more toward Kitty. A bit of his wine sloshed over the rim of his glass as he did so, landing on the white lace tablecloth. The stain began to immediately spread, unseen or ignored by the one who had made it.

"To agree with everything they say, naturally," Kitty said, lifting her eyes slowly to Sir Wright's. "And if they have become too intoxicated by wine or beauty, then to distract them until they remember their better selves again." Here she paused, and without thinking twice, she lifted a dish with little frosted cakes, each decorated with a pattern of candied rose petals on the top. "Have you tried one of these? They are most excellent. Cook always adds a splash of orange water to the batter—so delicate, but decadent."

Sir Wright stared for a moment, his eyes flicking from the platter of cakes to Kitty's face and back again. Slowly, a strangely pointed smile began to spread across his face. "Perhaps you are more clever than I had allowed for," he said, as if bestowing a gracious honour upon her.

"Why Sir Wright, you must take care that such praise does not go to my head," Kitty said with such sincerity as to be almost nonsensical.

Sir Wright, clearly sensing her sugary sarcasm, only smiled again, arching one brow. Kitty stared back, refusing to be cowed, even though she knew that it was imperative to the part she was going to play. She forced herself to remain focused on his eyes, grey and cold, rather than the rest of his face, so sharp and angular.

"Perhaps I will have to call on you again," he said finally.

From somewhere behind the ferns and flowers on the table, directly across from Kitty, there came a choking sound. Kitty ignored it, likewise ignoring the pointed look that Lady Veronica sent to Seth.

This is as it should be , Kitty said, turning her eyes at last down to her plate. She forced herself to make a show of moving the food about on her plate again, a pantomime of eating. Thankfully, Lady Veronica came to her rescue, keeping Sir Wright engaged in conversation.

She and Veronica had come up with a carefully constructed plan: It was Kitty's job to appear innocent and beguiling, an ornament meant to keep Sir Wright's interest. When the time was right, Lady Veronica would swoop in and begin to hint around business, testing the waters. Seth's arrival, however, was an unknown quantity. Kitty, too, began to quickly realise that Sir Wright did not simply want a willing waif—there were plenty of those at court and everywhere else, willing to throw themselves at him for influence—and understood that he would find a challenge far more intriguing.

Once the farce of a dinner was concluded, complete with a dessert course of wiggling, jiggling puddings that delighted Sir Wright, the party rejoined in the sitting room. The gentlemen were offered brandy, while the ladies enjoyed cups of coffee served in delicate teacups. Under the guise of welcoming back her son, Lady Veronica left Kitty to Sir Wright's tender mercies, while she remained locked in conversation with Seth.

Kitty sat on the very edge of the settee, as if she might spring up at any moment. She did not dare to allow herself to relax or appear at ease, lest she let her guard down, or Sir Wright take the wrong meaning from her posture. To her dismay and alarm, Sir Wright plonked himself down directly next to her.

"It's a touching sight, is it not?" he asked, nodding toward Seth and Lady Veronica, who were talking in hushed tones on the far side of the room.

"It is," Kitty asked, feeling her expression soften a little. "It's nice to see someone get a happy ending."

"Is it?" Sir Wright asked. "I am not sure I would call it just that."

"Oh?" Kitty asked, lifting her coffee cup so that her hands would have something to do. "And why is that?"

"Well, the boy has returned, but their situation remains precarious," Sir Wright said with an off-handed shrug, "unless, of course, something has changed in the months he was gone." He lifted his brandy glass, peering into it as if trying to discern the future.

"I'm not privy to the family's financial status, of course," Kitty said, lowering her tone conspiratorially. "But I cannot imagine that they are in such dire straits; can you doubt it after such a splendid dinner?"

Sir Wright offered another shrug, his face somehow coming over more lean and pinched. "It was perfectly adequate, but of course, I am used to rich fare."

"What a pity," Kitty replied, tutting a little.

"I will concede that dessert was quite good," Sir Wright allowed, as if making a great concession on Kitty's behalf.

"I imagine that is because it reminded you of the Prince Regent," Kitty retorted snappily, thinking of the younger George's propensity for sugar and drink; the puddings at dinner had jiggled and shook in such a manner as to be reminiscent of the future king.

Sir Wright's head whipped around to stare at Kitty. He would have to be a fool to not understand her meaning. She could feel him staring at her, but she remained cool and unperturbed, sipping her coffee.

"And why is that?" he asked at last, his tone unreadable.

Kitty turned back around to him as if she had already forgotten the comment. "Well, as I understand it, his Highness has a great fondness of sweets," Kitty said, all apple-cheeked smiles. "You must have more than your share of wonderful treats."

Sir Wright was sitting close enough that Kitty could feel the tension leave his body. "Yes, I was fortunate enough to sample the pleasures of the Prince's table quite often," Sir Wright said. "His Highness has a great dessert chef in his employ that travels with him."

"Fancy that," Kitty said, her voice a little flat. It was difficult to carry on a neutral conversation when discussing the profligate who would inherit the throne. Kitty had never been particularly fond of him, finding his excess distasteful.

She could feel Sir Wright watching her again with those cold, grey eyes of his. Idly, Kitty wondered how someone who dined with the Prince as regularly as Sir Wright allegedly did could sport such hollow cheeks and thin frame.

"You don't fool me, you know," he said suddenly, taking Kitty quite by surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, setting down her coffee cup a little harder than was wise on the saucer with a clatter.

"You have all the outward appearance of a sweet little English rose," he said, his eyes boldly sweeping over her from head to toe. It was all Kitty could do to keep her lip from curling in distaste. "But you are a sharp little thing, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure I take your meaning, Sir Wright," Kitty said, tossing her head.

"Do not try that demure, fawn-eyed act with me," he said, leaning closer. Instinctually, Kitty shifted backward and sideways, feeling the arm of the settee pressing against her side. "You might wish to pretend that you are a sweetling, all smiles and rosy cheeks, but there is something lurking within you. I wager that you have quite the razor-tongue in your mouth," he continued, his gaze flicking boldly down to her lips, which Kitty pressed into a thin line. "I wager it would not take much persuasion to turn you into quite the formidable little fighter."

"Persuasion?" Kitty repeated, drawing herself backward as much as she dared without looking as if she were actually fleeing Sir. Wright.

He leaned closer still, looming, one bony arm across the back of the settee now. Kitty could smell the brandy on his breath, and it made her nose wrinkle a little. "I think that all you would need is a little nudge, with the right man to guide you, and you could cut a swathe through the ton."

"And I suppose you believe you are that man?"

Sir Wright did not smile so much as leered at Kitty. "I know that I am." He shifted closer, angling his torso so that Kitty was truly trapped.

I wonder how much trouble I will be in if I kick him in the shin? Kitty thought wildly. She knew logically that she should not, that too much was riding on him having a good opinion of the household. And yet, the temptation was there, as well as a healthy dose of righteous indignation.

"Sir Wright," a deep voice said flatly from behind him.

Seth , Kitty sighed inwardly.

Frowning a little, Sir Wright turned a little to address the interruption, and then was seized abruptly upward. It was only after the fact, when Sir Wright was standing before Seth, that she understood what had happened: Seth, in a pretence of familiarity, had taken Sir Wright by the hand and hoisted him upward, shaking it all the while as if they were great friends. Seth still had hold of his hand, refusing to release him.

"Can't thank you enough for paying a call this evening," Seth was saying. "It's such a relief to know such men of your calibre of honour were watching over my household."

Fascinated, Kitty watched as the expression on Sir Wright's face changed from one of annoyance to realisation, and then to a poorly concealed grimace. She glanced down to their clasped hands, and saw that Sir Wright was clearly trying to wrangle his hand free. Seth, implacable and unconcerned, merely maintained a steady grip. Though he showed no outward signs of effort, his expression serene even, Kitty had little doubt that Seth could quite easily crush Sir Wright's hand to the consistency of one of the puddings they had just eaten should he so choose.

"It was my privilege to do so," Sir Wright responded tightly. Under the low candlelight, Kitty thought she could see beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Seth replied evenly, finally releasing Sir Wright's hand. "I have already rung for your carriage—I know what a busy man you are, and we shouldn't keep you for the whole evening."

Sir Wright nodded, and to his credit, he did not rub at his hand as he clearly wanted to. He settled for flexing his fingers, bowing stiffly to the assembled. "Thank you for a most…illuminating evening," he said. "I will be calling again to resume our negotiations." He paused, then turned his icy eyes to Kitty. "And to conclude our conversation."

Kitty, so that she would not stick her tongue out like a misbehaving schoolboy, smiled with her teeth clamped tightly together and dipped her head instead. Sir Wright seemed to be placated by this. He turned and exited the sitting room, clearly attempting to pretend that his departure was his own idea all along.

"Was all of that really necessary?" Lady Veronica said into the heavy silence that followed. The ticking of the hall clock followed her words, marking the passing of the seconds with infuriating regularity.

"Yes. It was," Seth stated at last, turning slowly to glance at Kitty.

His tone brooked no argument.