Alcorne diamonds! No wonder she is not here tonight. Poor creature —her husband is reputed to be furious."
Kit pricked up her ears.
"Kit dear, why are you not dancing?" Rose came up from behind her, looking vaguely concerned. "You don't want to be a wallflower, now do you?"
In fact, that was exactly what Kit wanted to be at the moment. What did it matter if she missed one dance? She glanced at Rose to tell her so, and stopped. Sweet concern for Kit's welfare was all Kit could see and her heart melted. She was so little accustomed to someone worrying about her happiness that she had no defence against it.
Had Rose been a wallflower in her youth? Was that the reason she had never married? Had she ever had an offer? It was a pity, for Rose would have made the sweetest of wives and a truly loving mother.
Kit grimaced faintly. "My new slippers pinch a little. Don't worry, Aunt, I will join the next set, after my poor toes have had a short rest."
"Oh, dear, your poor feet." Rose peered at the odd slippers and nodded understandingly. “By all means rest for a moment or two, but it will not do if people see you sitting too long when all the other girls are dancing." She nodded encouragingly at Kit and floated off, trailing gauzy draperies behind her.
Kit resumed her eavesdropping
“In the family for generations, and you know what men are like. They'll blame whoever is convenient. And I heard she had neglected to lock the diamonds away."
Generations? Kit wrinkled her brows.
"But, Maud, I was certain someone said it was a highwayman. The blackguard bailed her up on the way home from the Parsonses' ball."
"No, no, Pearl, dear. That wasn't it at all —a robber broke in to the house in the dead of night. I had it from my dresser, who is first cousin to Lady Alcorne's housekeeper. Lifted the whole set from the dressing table in the very room where Lady Alcorne was sleeping."
"Good God! She could have been murdered in her bed!" said Hettie, who was really Lady Hester Horton, Kit learned.
"Oh, indeed! Quite, quite shocking! The state of the world today! A person is not safe in her bed."
"No, indeed? And do you know what else?"
From the corner of her eyes Kit saw the ladies lean closer.
"They say he might have been a Chinaman!"
"No! Good Heavens!"
"A Chinaman, Maud! But how do they know? Did someone see him?"
“No, but they found a torn scrap of paper near the window the rascal climbed through —and it had Chinese writing on it!"
"Chinese! But was it not a Chinaman who stole the Pennington Black Pearls?''
"Yes, that's right, Hettie. The Devenish boy saw him."
Kit smiled to herself. The Devenish boy, indeed!
"This paper, Maud. What did it say?"
"Well, they called in some chappie from —"
"All alone, Miss Singleton? Not dancing for some reason?"
Kit started and glanced up. “Oh, Mr Devenish, how do you do?'' she murmured, keeping her face blank of all expression. Drat! Apart from wishing to continue her eavesdropping, he was quite the last person she wished to encounter just now.
She hadn't expected to see him tonight. From all accounts Almack's was by no means his cup of tea. And yet, here he was, looming over her when she least expected it. And when she had no other choice but to invite him to be seated on the vacant chair next to hers. Common politeness dictated it. Drat the man. She had no wish to be subjected to more of his questions, and after their encounter in the park, she was sure he would have more.
If he'd recognised her, that is.
She looked him over, feeling almost exasperated. How did he do it? He was the most plainly dressed man in the place, as if he could not be bothered with fashionable nonsense. He wore no rings, no fobs, no seals, no quizzing glass —not even a tie-pin, a small part of her noted guiltily.
His coat was dark and plain, though subtly well cut across those wonderful shoulders. He was dressed, most correctly for Almack's, in knee breeches and his cravat was simple, though
Kit pricked up her ears.
"Kit dear, why are you not dancing?" Rose came up from behind her, looking vaguely concerned. "You don't want to be a wallflower, now do you?"
In fact, that was exactly what Kit wanted to be at the moment. What did it matter if she missed one dance? She glanced at Rose to tell her so, and stopped. Sweet concern for Kit's welfare was all Kit could see and her heart melted. She was so little accustomed to someone worrying about her happiness that she had no defence against it.
Had Rose been a wallflower in her youth? Was that the reason she had never married? Had she ever had an offer? It was a pity, for Rose would have made the sweetest of wives and a truly loving mother.
Kit grimaced faintly. "My new slippers pinch a little. Don't worry, Aunt, I will join the next set, after my poor toes have had a short rest."
"Oh, dear, your poor feet." Rose peered at the odd slippers and nodded understandingly. “By all means rest for a moment or two, but it will not do if people see you sitting too long when all the other girls are dancing." She nodded encouragingly at Kit and floated off, trailing gauzy draperies behind her.
Kit resumed her eavesdropping
“In the family for generations, and you know what men are like. They'll blame whoever is convenient. And I heard she had neglected to lock the diamonds away."
Generations? Kit wrinkled her brows.
"But, Maud, I was certain someone said it was a highwayman. The blackguard bailed her up on the way home from the Parsonses' ball."
"No, no, Pearl, dear. That wasn't it at all —a robber broke in to the house in the dead of night. I had it from my dresser, who is first cousin to Lady Alcorne's housekeeper. Lifted the whole set from the dressing table in the very room where Lady Alcorne was sleeping."
"Good God! She could have been murdered in her bed!" said Hettie, who was really Lady Hester Horton, Kit learned.
"Oh, indeed! Quite, quite shocking! The state of the world today! A person is not safe in her bed."
"No, indeed? And do you know what else?"
From the corner of her eyes Kit saw the ladies lean closer.
"They say he might have been a Chinaman!"
"No! Good Heavens!"
"A Chinaman, Maud! But how do they know? Did someone see him?"
“No, but they found a torn scrap of paper near the window the rascal climbed through —and it had Chinese writing on it!"
"Chinese! But was it not a Chinaman who stole the Pennington Black Pearls?''
"Yes, that's right, Hettie. The Devenish boy saw him."
Kit smiled to herself. The Devenish boy, indeed!
"This paper, Maud. What did it say?"
"Well, they called in some chappie from —"
"All alone, Miss Singleton? Not dancing for some reason?"
Kit started and glanced up. “Oh, Mr Devenish, how do you do?'' she murmured, keeping her face blank of all expression. Drat! Apart from wishing to continue her eavesdropping, he was quite the last person she wished to encounter just now.
She hadn't expected to see him tonight. From all accounts Almack's was by no means his cup of tea. And yet, here he was, looming over her when she least expected it. And when she had no other choice but to invite him to be seated on the vacant chair next to hers. Common politeness dictated it. Drat the man. She had no wish to be subjected to more of his questions, and after their encounter in the park, she was sure he would have more.
If he'd recognised her, that is.
She looked him over, feeling almost exasperated. How did he do it? He was the most plainly dressed man in the place, as if he could not be bothered with fashionable nonsense. He wore no rings, no fobs, no seals, no quizzing glass —not even a tie-pin, a small part of her noted guiltily.
His coat was dark and plain, though subtly well cut across those wonderful shoulders. He was dressed, most correctly for Almack's, in knee breeches and his cravat was simple, though
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