beautiful?”
Anne stopped and leaned toward one of the bushes lining the path, pulling Darcy in beside her. Before them were half a dozen flowers in full bloom, though Darcy couldn’t tell what color they were. They looked washed out and drab in the hazy half-light, and he could smell them not at all. It made him wonder what his cousin was admiring.
“I’m ever so fond of roses,” Anne said. “They don’t close their blossoms when the sun goes down like those haughty daisies and poppies. I think that’s quite sporting of them, don’t you? The night creatures deserve their beauty, too.”
Darcy was about to make some neutral reply when he noticed a glimmer of light just beyond the nearest flowers. The little points of light were back—two of them, close together, hovering not a foot from him. When he squinted at them, he saw that they were suspended on a lattice of thin, interconnected lines stretching from one rose stem to another.
He was looking at a web, and the lights were a spider and the cocooned fly over which it hovered.
Darcy felt the strange urge to reach out and touch them. Feel their radiance.
“Yes, I do dearly love them,” Anne said. “Day, night—it’s all the same to them.”
The two glows seemed to merge for a moment; then the fly’s flickered and went out.
The spider’s light burned on all the brighter.
CHAPTER 15
Kitty Bennet had studied under four masters in her life. Her father and a young man named Geoffrey Hawksworth had introduced her to the deadly arts. Master Liu of Shaolin had deepened her understanding and broadened her skills through years of grueling training in China. Yet it was her fourth master—her final and yet also her first—whom she found herself most indebted to now.
Kitty was drawing upon all the lessons she’d learned during her years as an acolyte to her sister Lydia.
Bunny MacFarquhar and his dandified friends were gathered around her as their toadies wrestled away the dreadful that had cleared Hyde Park just minutes before. And Kitty was doing all that Master Lydia would have done in her place.
When the men made bad jokes, she laughed.
When they gave her long, leering looks, she simpered and bit her thumbnail.
When they made disparaging remarks about her father and the comical way he’d run screaming from the unmentionable, she said, “Oh, you’re beastly!” in a tone that added, “And I just
adore
beastly boys!”
To her own dismay, it worked. With no dagger-dangling bandoliers or scabbarded katana or dowdy battle gown to hold her back, she could actually charm these wild young London bucks. Or Avis Shevington could, at any rate. In fact, it became obvious quite quickly that Avis Shevington could have a lot more fun than Kitty Bennet ever did.
Kitty had only ten minutes in Avis’s skin, however. Then the soldiers began moving in from the guard towers, and Bunny called for a hasty retreat before their most excellent joke could be ruined by those twin spoilsports: responsibility and consequence.
“I do hope I shall be seeing you tomorrow at Ascot,” Bunny said as he scooped up his rabbit, Brummell, and got ready to run.
“You can bet on it,” Kitty told him, “and count on a better return on your investment than the races will bring!”
“Ho!” Bunny guffawed, and off he went, in the company of his little troop, scampering into the trees.
Kitty turned and walked back to the barouche from which Lizzy and her father had watched her impromptu debut into London society.
“Well, it would seem we’re off to the races. La!”
“Indeed,” Lizzy said. “Well done, Kitty.”
Kitty climbed up and settled herself beside Mr. Bennet.
“It was my pleasure. Truly! Why, I’m half-tempted to stay Avis Shevington forever. Who would miss boring old Kitty Bennet anyway?”
This, of course, was a hint for her father and sister to exclaim, “We would! Never change, dear Kitty!”
They missed their cue. Instead, strangely enough, it was only
Anne stopped and leaned toward one of the bushes lining the path, pulling Darcy in beside her. Before them were half a dozen flowers in full bloom, though Darcy couldn’t tell what color they were. They looked washed out and drab in the hazy half-light, and he could smell them not at all. It made him wonder what his cousin was admiring.
“I’m ever so fond of roses,” Anne said. “They don’t close their blossoms when the sun goes down like those haughty daisies and poppies. I think that’s quite sporting of them, don’t you? The night creatures deserve their beauty, too.”
Darcy was about to make some neutral reply when he noticed a glimmer of light just beyond the nearest flowers. The little points of light were back—two of them, close together, hovering not a foot from him. When he squinted at them, he saw that they were suspended on a lattice of thin, interconnected lines stretching from one rose stem to another.
He was looking at a web, and the lights were a spider and the cocooned fly over which it hovered.
Darcy felt the strange urge to reach out and touch them. Feel their radiance.
“Yes, I do dearly love them,” Anne said. “Day, night—it’s all the same to them.”
The two glows seemed to merge for a moment; then the fly’s flickered and went out.
The spider’s light burned on all the brighter.
CHAPTER 15
Kitty Bennet had studied under four masters in her life. Her father and a young man named Geoffrey Hawksworth had introduced her to the deadly arts. Master Liu of Shaolin had deepened her understanding and broadened her skills through years of grueling training in China. Yet it was her fourth master—her final and yet also her first—whom she found herself most indebted to now.
Kitty was drawing upon all the lessons she’d learned during her years as an acolyte to her sister Lydia.
Bunny MacFarquhar and his dandified friends were gathered around her as their toadies wrestled away the dreadful that had cleared Hyde Park just minutes before. And Kitty was doing all that Master Lydia would have done in her place.
When the men made bad jokes, she laughed.
When they gave her long, leering looks, she simpered and bit her thumbnail.
When they made disparaging remarks about her father and the comical way he’d run screaming from the unmentionable, she said, “Oh, you’re beastly!” in a tone that added, “And I just
adore
beastly boys!”
To her own dismay, it worked. With no dagger-dangling bandoliers or scabbarded katana or dowdy battle gown to hold her back, she could actually charm these wild young London bucks. Or Avis Shevington could, at any rate. In fact, it became obvious quite quickly that Avis Shevington could have a lot more fun than Kitty Bennet ever did.
Kitty had only ten minutes in Avis’s skin, however. Then the soldiers began moving in from the guard towers, and Bunny called for a hasty retreat before their most excellent joke could be ruined by those twin spoilsports: responsibility and consequence.
“I do hope I shall be seeing you tomorrow at Ascot,” Bunny said as he scooped up his rabbit, Brummell, and got ready to run.
“You can bet on it,” Kitty told him, “and count on a better return on your investment than the races will bring!”
“Ho!” Bunny guffawed, and off he went, in the company of his little troop, scampering into the trees.
Kitty turned and walked back to the barouche from which Lizzy and her father had watched her impromptu debut into London society.
“Well, it would seem we’re off to the races. La!”
“Indeed,” Lizzy said. “Well done, Kitty.”
Kitty climbed up and settled herself beside Mr. Bennet.
“It was my pleasure. Truly! Why, I’m half-tempted to stay Avis Shevington forever. Who would miss boring old Kitty Bennet anyway?”
This, of course, was a hint for her father and sister to exclaim, “We would! Never change, dear Kitty!”
They missed their cue. Instead, strangely enough, it was only
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