Chapter 25

With the return of Seth, Kitty was hoping to remain as inconspicuous as possible; she wished to remain unnoticed, of no more consequence than a side table in the hall that was seen so much that it scarcely warranted a second look now. She hoped, perhaps in vain, that this would give her enough time to come up with some sort of plan for what she would do now.

It was clear that she could not remain here—she might not have been able to marry Seth, but she also was not going to be a spectator to the enterprise, either—but she was not sure of where she even could go. She knew that her parents had moved to a much humbler home at a much humbler address, which was a last resort. This was not born of snobbery, but rather a refusal to be a pawn on their terms. She'd had enough of their scrabbling, scratching social schemes to last a lifetime.

She had thought to throw herself at the mercy of Eva, her dearest friend, but she was still on an extended tour with her husband. There were other friends she might call on, perhaps Lady Chester, but the connection was tenuous at best. Moreover, she did not want to suffer the twin humiliations of pity and shame.

It did not matter, for there was no respite to be had for Kitty, so she had little time to formulate a plan. In fact, she had been hustled and cajoled, rather hurriedly, from the comfortable solitude of her room by O'Toole, who looked exactly as thrilled by the prospect as Kitty felt.

"Herself has asked for you to attend tea with her," the maid explained hurriedly, following behind Kitty and fiddling with the pins in her dark curls.

"Tea? Why?" Kitty asked suspiciously, hustling down the hallway and trying to push O'Toole's hands away. "What are you—it's fine, I am not going to an audience with the Queen."

"She's in a mood, you'd best take care," O'Toole warned, pulling one last pin out so that a few corkscrew curls fell loose next to Kitty's cheek. "Here—hold still," the maid instructed. With little else for warning, she reached up and whipped the white tucker from Kitty's neck.

"Elsa!" she hissed in surprise, her neck and collarbones suddenly exposed to the cold air.

"Trust me," O'Toole countered. "Herself asked that you look as fetching as possible, given the short notice."

Oh, good Lord, Kitty groaned inwardly. She had a sneaking suspicion that dogged her steps as she tripped lightly down the stairs to the main floor. Suspicion quickly morphed into a sinking sensation as she stopped partway down the stairs, craning her neck to see out to the street. As she feared, there was a carriage at the kerb, and she already knew who it belonged to without needing to ask.

"No thank you," she muttered, turning back around, but O'Toole was there, having anticipated her objections.

"Now Miss, you know you cannot do this," O'Toole said, herding her down the stairs.

"I am not some sort of performing pony that can be trotted out to entertain her guests!" Kitty hissed, objecting strenuously.

O'Toole, who had taken her by the arm with one hand, and had her other arm wrapped around Kitty's back, tipped her chin down and gave Kitty a significant look. Aren't you, though? was the silent question. Kitty had no answer.

When they were before the sitting room door, Kitty made a half-hearted attempt to dig her heels in, but O'Toole had opened the door and nudged her through before she knew what was happening. Consequently, she had the aspect of a hare that was cornered by hounds, all wide, darting eyes. Swallowing hard, she attempted to compose herself, particularly as Lady Veronica was glaring at her with a forced smile.

"Ah, Catherine, there you are," she said through gritted teeth. "We were beginning to wonder if you had forsaken us."

The other person at the table, a man with greying blonde hair, turned about. It was Sir Wright, and when his eyes met Kitty's, his mouth curled upward into a smile that looked somehow like a snake's. He stood slowly, bowing to Catherine with a sort of self-aware irony.

Catherine did not curtsy, instead dropping a more modern bow that young ladies favoured. This caused Lady Veronica's face to tighten, her nostrils going pinched. Sir Wright noticed this with favour however.

"You are a young lady who attends the latest fashions," he observed. "Though your current dress might not reflect it," he added, eyeing her drab day dress with a critical eye.

"Please forgive me," she said with forced sweetness, "I was not expecting to entertain."

"It's no matter," Sir Wright said, waving Kitty over. "The frame does not make the painting, after all."

Kitty had no response to that, for she felt certain that no matter what she said, it would be taken as encouragement. Instead, she busied herself getting settled into the empty chair at the tea table. Lady Veronica made some attempts at small talk, which Kitty ignored, and Sir Wright answered while staring at Kitty.

"Catherine, dear, have you seen the map and plans for all of the buildings that we shall be building?" Lady Veronica asked suddenly, startling Kitty into paying attention.

"I don't believe I have had that privilege, Lady Veronica," Kitty answered neutrally, unsure of where this was leading.

"Sir Wright has brought over some fascinating bits of paper you see, which we have been looking at while waiting for you," Lady Veronica continued with an indulgent smile. Kitty stared back blankly, not particularly wanting to play this particular game. "Perhaps you might care to see them," Lady Veronica continued, her smile fading a little, "as you are always so interested in the future of this house."

Kitty felt quite certain that there was a pointed message in there for her, but she could not discern it. She glanced to Sir Wright, who was watching her expectantly but curiously. "I would like to know more about it, I suppose," she answered finally. "I am not sure how much of it I will understand, of course."

"Please, allow me to accompany you then," Sir Wright said, standing and gesturing with a sweep to a large table where various folios and maps had been laid out.

Taking a deep, steadying, breath, Kitty stood as well, and passed before Sir Wright to said table. There was one map that was larger than the others, and dominated the centre of the table. It was full of extremely tidy ink drawings, plans for shops and houses, with streets laid out on a neat grid. Some of them bore names, such as a public livery and a church, and one larger home was labelled as a school.

"Is this the school Lady Veronica wished to found?" Kitty asked, tilting her head a little to try and understand the placement. It was hard to reconcile the lines on the page with the street she had stood on some weeks ago.

"Indeed it is," Sir Wright said, standing some steps away still. "And a fine endeavour it is, too; educating our youth is such an important foundation for our proud Empire."

"As long as they're boys," Kitty muttered.

Sir Wright heard her, and gave her a quizzical look. "You can't possibly expect for us to build a school for girls when so many boys are still in need of a good education."

"Why can't I? Do girls not grow to women who might benefit from learning more than darning socks? Mightn't they benefit from options ?" Kitty demanded, but instead of looking at Sir Wright, she stared straight at the viscountess, who glanced away. It was a small victory, but one that emboldened Kitty.

"I did not know that you entertained such progressive notions," Sir Wright commented neutrally.

"I entertain practical notions, Sir Wright," Kitty countered readily, whipping her head around. She'd had enough of being cowed by this man. The tone of his gaze changed a little, and he lifted his chin in response. Or at least, Kitty thought that he did, for he wore a collar that was so tall and stiffly starched that Kitty was not sure if he had a complete chin, or jaws for that matter.

Satisfied, she turned her attention back to the plans laid out before her. She appreciated the neat and tidy nature of it, the ease with which the streets might be navigated.

"So, what think you of the Viscount's ambitious undertaking?" Sir Wright asked, leaning on one hand against the desk.

"It does seem a marvellous enterprise," Kitty admitted. "Though I must confess that I have some difficulty in understanding all of the plans."

"Ah, that is because you must imagine them as buildings, and not simply squares on paper," Sir Wright said, overlaying his hand atop Kitty's. She resisted the urge to shake him off and slide her hand away, certain that he would simply enjoy the challenge. "Take this little patch here," he continued, "and now imagine that it is a house, rising up like this." He lifted their joined hands a few inches.

"I see," Kitty said. "This is to be a large structure, then?" she asked, trying hard to keep him focused on the subject at hand and not on taking liberties. Sir Wright gave her a wry smile. "I do intend to build a modest house on the property," he said. He released her hand to leaf through another stack of papers, producing a drawing of a grand fa?ade. In the margins and corners of the rendering, there were little architectural details, carving and moulding examples. The home was in the Neo-Classical style, all symmetry and exact angles with beautiful little flourishes.

"Oh my," Kitty breathed. She did not care a jot for Sir Wright, but she could not deny something aesthetically pleasing when she saw it.

"I'm glad it pleases you," Sir Wright said, stepping closer again. He was so near that Kitty could feel his breath on her ear, which made her shiver; she curbed the urge to flinch away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He was all hooded eyes and coiled energy, like a snake determined to slither up to her.

"I'm not sure why you should care a whit for my opinion, Sir Wright," Kitty said acerbically. "I am not only a woman, but nearly a servant; surely I do not warrant your consideration."

"Oh, but you do," he said, giving her another oily smile. "Might I direct your attention to that particular parcel of land, just there? No, a bit to your left. Yes, that one," he said with a nod as her fingers found the aforementioned space on the map.

"This? It is completely empty," Kitty said, her brow furrowing.

"It is," Sir Wright confirmed.

"Will there be nothing built here? It seems an odd oversight," Kitty continued, studying it.

"There might be," Sir Wright answered cryptically. "You see, I own that particular patch of land."

"You do?" Kitty asked, turning to look at him with brows raised. "Why do you not build your house there?"

"Because it is where the road that connects this new neighbourhood to London will be placed, and I've no desire to live on a busy turnpike," Sir Wright sniffed. His expression quickly changed, however, to one of such confident slyness that Kitty took an automatic half-step backward. "Though it is but a humble piece of land, it is no less significant: Without it, this new neighbourhood will have no means of connecting to London proper."

Kitty stared at Sir Wright for a moment, then down to the map again. "Then…then that means—"

"That this is the most important piece of land in all of England at this very moment, I'd wager," Sir Wright finished for her, leaning closer again. "Which makes my happiness with this deal of the utmost importance, too."

Kitty shot a look at Lady Veronica, who was busy attempting to appear busy rearranging the tea service. "Well, I am sure that Lady Veronica and his Lordship will do everything to—"

"Oh, they certainly will," Sir Wright said, his voice and posture curling around Kitty like the coils of a serpent. "But the real question is, will you prove as tractable?"

"No," Lady Veronica said at last. "The true question is, how far does your loyalty to my—our—family extend, Catherine?" She rose and came toward Kitty, holding her hands out in an uncharacteristically familiar gesture. This only unsettled Kitty more. "Sir Wright would like to pay you the great compliment of asking for your hand, and in exchange, he will approve the construction on that part of the land."

Kitty simply stared for a moment, feeling the jaws of the trap she had wandered into closing about her. She had no expectation anymore of being able to marry Seth, but she also had no desire in the least to marry Sir Wright of all people. And yet, Lady Veronica was right: What wouldn't Kitty do, not for Lady Veronica, but for Seth? He had worked so hard, overcome so much, and to have him within sight of the legacy he deserved…

And it all rested on her.