An Unconventional Affair: Forever Yours Series Page 14

  for all eventualities. Taking a bracing breath, she

  spun tales of hopes for them, of an eventual meeting

  when he returned from Scotland, and how they

  would take the last of their money and order three

  new daring ball gowns for herself, two for Anna,

  dancing slippers, and assorted fripperies. It was such

  a gamble to spend the last of Mamma’s portion, but

  she also had to look the part of a duke’s fiancée, and

  Anna had to be out in society for the plan to bear

  fruit.

  Now that the news had been announced, the

  wave of interest and curiosity into their lives would

  move unchecked.

  Her mother stared at her for quite a while, and a

  lump grew in Kitty’s throat at the emotions she spied

  in her mother’s eyes.

  “Sometimes it steals my breath and crumples

  something in me when I think of the weight of the

  responsibility on your shoulders, my dear,” her

  mother said softly, an odd sort of knowledge in her

  eyes. “You’ve always been a lively and daring spirit,

  Katherine, and for so long I’ve worried the onus of

  taking care of us would dim your charming light.

  You’ve not flinched from everything required of you

  and have taken on a burden to see this family well, a

  responsibility that should belong only to your father

  and me. My Artie would be so very proud of you, my

  dear.”

  Kitty swallowed and nodded, offering her mother

  a watery smile.

  While they sipped tea and ate sandwiches that

  had the cheapest fillings, she gave them hope, and

  in return, her family bestowed on her the brightest

  smiles she had seen since before her papa had died.

  And it was in that moment the last kernel of

  doubt died.

  I’ll not fail you.

  * * *

  Two weeks later

  Dear God in heaven…. I’ve really done it.

  Kitty had remade herself into the fiancée of the

  reclusive Duke of Thornton, was declared by the

  scandal sheets as incomparable, and was toasted for

  snagging the elusive duke. The eager reception in

  society of the news of her betrothal to a man of rank

  and fortune had sent her mother into swift recovery,

  pleasing Kitty, for she had been dreadfully worried

  she would lose her mamma to melancholia.

  Only this morning, her dear friend Maryann had

  sent a footman to deliver over a dozen invitations

  to balls, musicales, soirees, and even an invitation

  to a scandalous house party that had arrived at

  Maryann’s parents’ elegant town house in Berkeley

  Square for Kitty. They had thought it wise to drop

  hints here and there that Kitty resided with the earl

  and countess of Musgrove for the season. The small

  house her mother had managed to rent in Cheapside

  must not be discovered by the ton as her place of

  dwelling during the season.

  Kitty glanced down at the small packet of invitations

  in her hands. Oh dear.

  This one was for the Marchioness of Sanderson’s

  ball a couple of weeks from now. She had never been

  invited to that auspicious and most sought-after

  event before. It was all absurd, of course, as she was

  the same person who had been among society for

  the last three seasons. But the almost daily articles

  published by Lady Gamble had wrought changes

  Kitty and her family hardly knew what to do with.

  The articles had rambled on about the idea of

  such a match, assessing if it was imprudent or the

  society pairing of the season. The wave of interest

  that followed had been more than she had allowed

  possible. The solicitor who had executed Papa’s will

  approached her and suggested letting a town house

  in Mayfair. Kitty had nearly expired from shock

  and embarrassment, for Mr. Walker had politely

  suggested he would send the bill to the duke’s

  lawyers.

  At first, she had been confused, and then awareness

  had dawned. Financial avenues had also been

  opened to her family because of her fake engagement.

  She had denied Mr. Walker, of course. That

  night before bed, she had prayed twice as hard for

  her eternal soul.

  And now one of those startling changes was

  seated on the sofa by the fire, seemingly both nervous

  and self-assured—Mr. Adolphus Pryce. Kitty

  was pretending to quickly read the stack of invitations

  in her hands while they awaited refreshments

  so that she could take the measure of the man. He

  was thin and carefully but plainly dressed. Pryce had

  high coloring on his cheekbones, and his curly hair

  was trying to escape from his pomade into pretty

  kiss-curls at his forehead. This was a very curious

  contradiction, and Kitty wondered how he had found

  her. The card he had presented said he was a lawyer

  from a prominent law firm.

  The door to the parlor remained ajar to lend the

  correct air of respectability to their meeting. Anna

  brought in a tea tray and shot Kitty a questioning

  look. She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug, for

  she had no idea why a young solicitor from Smith

  and Fielding’s had called upon her. The painful

  cramps in her stomach suspected that the duke had

  seen the article, and perhaps she was being sued for

  misrepresentation and fraud.

  Nevertheless, tea and cakes were served, and her

  sister departed, leaving her alone with Mr. Pryce.

  “How may I be of assistance, Mr. Pryce?”

  He hurriedly gulped down his tea and settled

  the teacup and saucer atop a small scraped walnut

  tablet. His apparent discomfiture relaxed her.

  “Miss Danvers,” he started, tugging at his cravat,

  which truly seemed as if it were choking the man.

  “I am a part of the team that handles His Grace the

  Duke of Thornton’s affairs.” At that pronouncement,

  his chest puffed with pride, and he sat a bit straighter

  on the sofa. She dearly hoped it wasn’t the lumpy

  cushions affecting his posture.

  Kitty clasped her cup, the warmth soothing to

  the chill forming in her heart. She had to cleverly

  handle him without his awareness. A hysterical laugh

  bubbled in her throat, and she swallowed it down.

  How complicated her ruse got day by day. “Yes?”

  “Ah…my superior has tasked me to…ah… We

  recently became aware our client is betrothed to you.”

  She pinned him with an unflinching stare. “Yes?”

  “The team has tasked me to, ah…” He blushed,

  and her throat went tight. “I’m to make discreet

  inquiries… Ah, that is to say we were not aware the

  duke had intended to take a duchess.”

  The team wanted to find out if the engagement

  was real. Of course.

  But why had they approached her and not the

  duke directly? Could it be that he was reclusive even

  with the people who managed his estates?

  “Has A
lexander not informed everyone of the

  happy news?” she asked with a small smile, desperate

  to portray a serene countenance, hoping her

  probing was on point. Kitty was very deliberate with

  the intimate use of the duke’s name, and Mr. Pryce

  stiffened. “Why haven’t you written to him? I am

  sure he will respond. He did promise it.”

  “He did?”

  She took a sip of her tea and then responded

  graciously. “Of course.”

  Mr. Pryce’s shoulders relaxed. “My superior Mr.

  Fielding did send an inquiry to the duke, but we’ve

  received no reply.”

  “How odd, and perhaps not so unlike His Grace.”

  Kitty hoped the duke was an indifferent correspondent

  and she hadn’t just blundered. Her pause was

  deliberate. “But how may I help your office?”

  He glanced around, his gaze landing on the wornout

  sofas and the threadbare peach carpet. “It took

  some time to find you, and I did not expect to see

  the fiancée of the duke residing in Cheapside.” The

  man was now watchful, his light blue eyes calm and

  calculating.

  Her composure was rattled, and she took a delicate

  sip of her tea, her thoughts churning furiously.

  “My father’s solicitor’s office is currently seeking a

  more suitable establishment at the duke’s behest. Mr.

  Walker of the Dunn and Robinson firm…you are familiar

  with them?”

  “I am,” he said tightly.

  “Yes, Mr. Walker found the most delightful town

  house in Mayfair, but I am afraid Alexander was

  not at all pleased with the selection. I believe his

  words were that only the very best was suitable for

  his betrothed.” There, that would explain why she

  still resided in Cheapside, and yet the terrible sense

  of unease lingered. There were days she hated the

  depth of deception she weaved, and today was such

  a day. Why did this man have to show up here?

  Still, better him than the duke…

  Adolphus Pryce blanched, and he sat straighter

  on the lumpy sofa. “His Grace…His Grace went to

  another firm to handle this matter?”

  The man’s shock had alarm flipping in her belly

  and a realization dawning. They had been concerned

  because the duke hadn’t used their offices to draft

  up any sort of agreement, or even an offer of the

  marriage contract. They were worried the duke

  may not be satisfied. Of course they had thought it

  prudent to investigate these new rumors. It occurred

  to her then they must have investigated the other

  past rumors as well.

  Drat. She frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

  “It was my suggestion to go with that firm, for they

  dealt with my papa’s estates. Alexander does indulge

  me, shamelessly.” She paused in the act of selecting a

  cake. “Do you believe your firm is capable of finding

  a house that would please His Grace?”

  Relief lit the man’s eyes, and he nodded eagerly.

  “Of course, of course, Smith and Fielding is always

  honored to cater to His Grace’s needs. We will get

  on the matter right away. By the end of the week, I’ll

  find a town house in Piccadilly or Grosvenor Square

  and open a line of credit for you, Miss Danvers,

  at various shops. You may assure His Grace you

  will want for nothing, and the offices of Smith and

  Fielding will gladly serve all your needs.”

  A line of credit? Dear God. This was going too

  far.

  But who would genuinely believe she was the

  fiancée of a duke as powerful as Thornton if she

  lived in Cheapside and wore last season’s modes? Or

  only the three new ball gowns recently procured?

  If she refused this offer, would they then write

  to the duke? Vast holdings such as the Duke of

  Thornton’s had several stewards and solicitors

  dancing attendant to his orders. Minuscule affairs

  were not brought to his notice. If she rejected this

  offer and insisted her father’s solicitor would deal

  with the matter of a town house, the office of Smith

  and Fielding would feel compelled to bring the

  matter to the duke, for fear of losing even a bit of his

  patronage.

  Doubts once again rose in her. But would they

  not also alert the duke that they had found her

  suitable apartments? “I cannot credit that Alexander

  did not respond to your office’s queries. I will speak

  with him.”

  Another grateful sigh issued from the man. So

  their client was an ogre, was he?

  “That would be very satisfactory, Miss Danvers.”

  Mr. Pryce then opened a slim black leather case

  and retrieved a sheaf of paper, a small inkwell, and

  a pen, then got down to business. He was quite

  thorough, even demanding to know the type of

  drapes she desired to frame the windows, the furniture

  required for each room, and if a seven-roomed

  town house would be sufficient for her needs. They

  discussed how many servants she would need to

  staff the house and the shops she would need for

  the lines of credit. An hour later, Mr. Pryce departed

  with a confident spring to his steps.

  She dropped the faded damask silk curtains as

  the hackney rolled away down the street with Mr.

  Pryce. The web she had woven had just gotten so

  frightfully tangled, Kitty doubted she would ever be

  free.

  She hugged an arm around her waist. There was a

  ball to prepare for, and she must not dawdle.

  When the news had appeared in The Scruntineer,

  she had found the gumption to visit one of London’s

  reigning modistes and ordered three new ball

  gowns and most delightful riding habits for herself

  and Anna. Then she’d suddenly been offered a

  considerable discount on the bill and found that they

  were able to add some new day outfits as well.

  Being the duke’s fiancée had more than one

  advantage.

  That night she had cried in her pillows, for her

  heart had been heavy with uncertainty at using the

  last of the monies Papa had left. Come winter, they

  wouldn’t have two shillings to rub together.

  Now a line of credit was being opened at the

  most famous shops in London. She would have to be

  very careful not to make any purchases, even if the

  situation became dire. While she would borrow the

  man’s reputation and connections, taking money felt

  sordid and far too nefarious. But what was she to do

  about the town house? Kitty fretted as she made her

  way from the parlor, down the small hallway, and up

  the stairs to her bedroom.

  I will pay him back every penny, she vowed.

  …

  Several days later, Kitty strolled through Hyde

  Park with Ophelia. The day was quite dreary for a

  spring afternoon. The morning had dawned cold;

  intermittent rain had fallen in a listless, icy drizzle.

  That had not prevented numerous
callers from

  descending on her newly occupied town house.

  Her mother had been beside herself at the duke’s

  generosity, even though such a gesture stretched…

  more like shattered the bounds of propriety.

  Her mother had sniffed and declared that it

  was not as if the duke intended to reside under the

  same roof. And he was the soul of kindness and

  gentlemanly honor to be so concerned with their

  welfare. “Of course, no man of his stature would

  have his fiancée’s family living in Cheapside!” her

  mother had declared, marshaling them to pack their

  few belongings like a general.

  Still, Kitty had not expected the bevy of nosy

  bodies who had descended a few hours ago. Her

  mother had basked in the attention and had taken

  to her role as hostess quite effortlessly, managing

  cakes and refreshments adroitly and keeping the

  conversation surrounding the mundane and light

  gossips, skillfully deflecting all questions pertaining

  to the duke.

  A suffocating dread had risen inside her. The

  success had felt too surreal, too alarming, with unalterable

  consequences stalking her, promising ruin

  and scandal. Kitty had mumbled some nonsense and

  had escaped as if the devil had been nipping at her

  heels.

  Grabbing her bonnet and parasol after donning

  sensible walking shoes, she had made her way from

  the house. A carriage had paused by her several

  minutes later; she had been quite glad to spy

  Ophelia, and her dear friend, sensing her turmoil,

  had suggested a stroll through the park despite the

  inclement weather.

  They walked along a winding path, and Kitty

  was grateful the park was not overly crowded. Dear

  Ophelia appeared resplendent in a fetching dark

  green pelisse and a walking dress a shade lighter, but

  there was a bit of forlornness about her eyes.

  “Are you well, Ophelia?” Kitty asked softly. “It

  has been several days since we last spoke.” And it

  made her wonder if Ophelia was perhaps hatching

  her own daring plan.

  “I believe we should call a meeting of our group

  soon. Perhaps a saloon of sorts? There is much I

  would like to discuss with everyone, and I can sense

  that you are troubled.”

  “Oh, we shall,” Kitty declared, truly wondering

  how everyone fared. “There is much to discuss.”

  Ophelia slid her a considering glance. “And can

  your troubles wait until then?”