herself. Now Jenny might figure out where she took herself off to.
But if her sister suspected anything, she didn’t mention it. “I wanted to warn you about the holiday ball.”
Kitty shrugged out of her cloak and draped it over the back of the green wingback chair near the window. Though she acted like she hadn’t a care in the world, her ears perked up as she unfastened her walking gown and pulled it over her head.
Jenny fingered a pink silk ribbon that hung from the pale gray sarsenet day gown she’d retrieved from the rosewood armoire. “Mother’s invited most of the neighbors, and you know what that means.”
“I made out the invitations with her,” murmured Kitty, accepting the gown her sister held out. She knew exactly who had been invited. She’d even taken care to craft Lord Strathern’s invitation herself, hoping he would notice the neat penmanship.
Unexpectedly, thoughts of the note she’d penned to Hugh popped into her mind. She’d penned the first one with precise strokes as her governess had taught. But when she’d sent the second missive, afraid of being caught, she had hastily scribbled the words across the page. What had he thought of that? Warmth swelled within, and the corners of her lips lifted as she drew the sarsenet over her head with a swish.
“…don’t know why Mother chose to invite those harpies, but there you have it.”
“H-harpies?” What on earth was Jenny talking about?
Jenny sighed with exasperation. “Penelope and Cicely. Have you listened to nothing I’ve been telling you?”
“Pen—” Kitty stared at her sister as a veil of horror stole over her. “No. That can’t be right. Cicely was invited with her parents, but Penelope is staying with her aunt and uncle in London. There’s a gentleman…”
Jenny grimaced, shaking her head. “Not any longer, there’s not. Lord Westin seemed to take offense at Lady Penelope’s waspish manner when he overheard her telling Miss Anne Hammell that she expected him to make an offer for her over the holidays.”
She tittered, but Kitty barely heard it over the blood rushing in her ears. “But I thought… that is, they made the perfect couple…”
The titter became a bark of unladylike laughter. “Yes, apparently everyone but Lord Westin thought … In truth, she’s quite fortunate she hasn’t been ruined with the way she took liberties, dodging behind her uncle’s back, sneaking out without her chaperone.”
Kitty snorted. “I have no doubt she believed she could assure herself of Lord Westin’s cooperation had she been ruined.” If she had to see the quarrelsome Lady Penelope over the holidays, at least she could imagine how desperate the other girl must have been, and how wise of Lord Westin to break off with her before his good reputation was ruined. In the middle of tying the pink ribbon, she glanced over at Jenny and frowned. “How do you know all of this?”
Jenny offered a smug smile. “My dear, I have many sources in the city.”
Kitty thought of her father’s insistence that she join him and her mother for tea. “I don’t suppose you have any idea why Father and Mother have requested I join them for tea…?”
Jenny raised one fine eyebrow. “I expect because it’s the civilized thing to do.” With a secretive smile, she lightly tripped from the room, closing the door with a soft thunk.
“Oh, she knows all right,” muttered Kitty, picking up her hairbrush. One thing her father would expect. When she joined them for tea, she’d best be at her utmost presentable. Once she’d wound her hair into neatness again and pinned it, she added a jeweled comb at the back of her head. Then, after drawing a deep breath to fortify her resolve, Kitty strode to the door.
In the drawing room, she found her mother sitting in one of the crimson damask chairs near the window, a spool of thread rested in her lap and a silver crochet hook glinted between her fingers. A tray with a pot of tea and a plate of
But if her sister suspected anything, she didn’t mention it. “I wanted to warn you about the holiday ball.”
Kitty shrugged out of her cloak and draped it over the back of the green wingback chair near the window. Though she acted like she hadn’t a care in the world, her ears perked up as she unfastened her walking gown and pulled it over her head.
Jenny fingered a pink silk ribbon that hung from the pale gray sarsenet day gown she’d retrieved from the rosewood armoire. “Mother’s invited most of the neighbors, and you know what that means.”
“I made out the invitations with her,” murmured Kitty, accepting the gown her sister held out. She knew exactly who had been invited. She’d even taken care to craft Lord Strathern’s invitation herself, hoping he would notice the neat penmanship.
Unexpectedly, thoughts of the note she’d penned to Hugh popped into her mind. She’d penned the first one with precise strokes as her governess had taught. But when she’d sent the second missive, afraid of being caught, she had hastily scribbled the words across the page. What had he thought of that? Warmth swelled within, and the corners of her lips lifted as she drew the sarsenet over her head with a swish.
“…don’t know why Mother chose to invite those harpies, but there you have it.”
“H-harpies?” What on earth was Jenny talking about?
Jenny sighed with exasperation. “Penelope and Cicely. Have you listened to nothing I’ve been telling you?”
“Pen—” Kitty stared at her sister as a veil of horror stole over her. “No. That can’t be right. Cicely was invited with her parents, but Penelope is staying with her aunt and uncle in London. There’s a gentleman…”
Jenny grimaced, shaking her head. “Not any longer, there’s not. Lord Westin seemed to take offense at Lady Penelope’s waspish manner when he overheard her telling Miss Anne Hammell that she expected him to make an offer for her over the holidays.”
She tittered, but Kitty barely heard it over the blood rushing in her ears. “But I thought… that is, they made the perfect couple…”
The titter became a bark of unladylike laughter. “Yes, apparently everyone but Lord Westin thought … In truth, she’s quite fortunate she hasn’t been ruined with the way she took liberties, dodging behind her uncle’s back, sneaking out without her chaperone.”
Kitty snorted. “I have no doubt she believed she could assure herself of Lord Westin’s cooperation had she been ruined.” If she had to see the quarrelsome Lady Penelope over the holidays, at least she could imagine how desperate the other girl must have been, and how wise of Lord Westin to break off with her before his good reputation was ruined. In the middle of tying the pink ribbon, she glanced over at Jenny and frowned. “How do you know all of this?”
Jenny offered a smug smile. “My dear, I have many sources in the city.”
Kitty thought of her father’s insistence that she join him and her mother for tea. “I don’t suppose you have any idea why Father and Mother have requested I join them for tea…?”
Jenny raised one fine eyebrow. “I expect because it’s the civilized thing to do.” With a secretive smile, she lightly tripped from the room, closing the door with a soft thunk.
“Oh, she knows all right,” muttered Kitty, picking up her hairbrush. One thing her father would expect. When she joined them for tea, she’d best be at her utmost presentable. Once she’d wound her hair into neatness again and pinned it, she added a jeweled comb at the back of her head. Then, after drawing a deep breath to fortify her resolve, Kitty strode to the door.
In the drawing room, she found her mother sitting in one of the crimson damask chairs near the window, a spool of thread rested in her lap and a silver crochet hook glinted between her fingers. A tray with a pot of tea and a plate of
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