Lady Midnight (20 page)

"Oh, Mrs. Brown," she said sadly. "It is so hard to tell what is gossip and what is polite conversation!"

Kate laughed again, and paused to bend down and kiss the child's soft cheek. "Don't worry,
bambina.
I will help you decipher it all. Now I must find some new stockings and stop at the apothecary. You just finish your sweets."

Kate hoped that by the time she completed her errands, the Ross ladies would be gone. But no such good fortune occurred. In fact, when she stepped out of the apothecary's shop, Christina was standing by their carriage chatting with them.

Or rather,
they
were chatting to
her,
the three of them twittering like magpies in a hedgerow, while Christina seemed frozen into a block of marble. Only her eyes moved, darting desperately from side to side as if she was about to fall down in a fit. Her arms were folded tightly around a book-shaped parcel, which she clutched against her stomach.

Kate nearly ducked back into the shop, dragging Amelia with her, but she could not abandon Christina. After all, she was trained to always be pleasant in every social situation. She took in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and marched right up to the carriage.

"Lady Christina, there you are," she said cheerfully. "Is it not time we started back to Thorn Hill?"

Christina nearly sagged with relief, and her frozen figure thawed enough to allow her to turn toward Kate. "Oh, yes, indeed! It will be almost time for tea. Mother is so strict about that." She looked as if she would love nothing more than to flee immediately, but even a girl who wandered the moors alone in search of plants to dig up could not be so rude. "Lady Ross, Miss Ross, Miss Emmeline Ross, this is our new governess, Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Brown, our neighbors, Lady Ross and her daughters."

Kate gave them a small curtsy. "How do you do?"

Lady Ross lifted up a quizzing glass on a silk ribbon and examined Kate minutely before saying briefly, "How do you do?"

The two daughters just giggled.

Michael was absolutely right to reject matrimony with such a silly, kitten-faced girl, Kate thought severely. Anyone who could
giggle
on a public street was obviously not a fit mother for Amelia.

"Don't forget, Lady Christina," the one in green—Louisa—said. "The assembly is on Saturday. It will be such fun. You mustn't miss it as you did the last one!"

"Yes, dear Lady Christina," Lady Ross said. "And do bring your
dear
brother. We haven't seen him in an age."

"He is very busy, Lady Ross," Christina answered. "But thank you for the reminder about the assembly. Good day."

"Good day!" the Rosses chorused as Christina clutched at Kate's arm and hurried off down the walkway.

Kate waited until they were out of sight of the carriage full of kittens before she said, "Christina, please, slow down! Amelia can't keep up."

Christina threw her a rueful, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown. And I'm sorry to you, too, poppet!" She picked up her niece, holding Amelia on her hip as they left the village. "I didn't mean to leave you behind. I just detest talking to Lady Ross and her daughters. They haven't one sensible thing to say between them."

"Mrs. Brown says one mustn't gossip," Amelia said severely. "Especially not about the Rosses," she went on, embellishing Kate's words.

Christina laughed. "Quite right Mrs. Brown is."

"What is this assembly they spoke of?" Kate asked.

Christina pulled a face. "Oh, it is to be at the assembly rooms here in Suddley. I got out of the last one—one of my experiments was at a sensitive stage, and I could not leave it. But I'm sure Mother will make me attend this one."

"Make
you attend? Do you not enjoy these assemblies at all?" Kate asked as they scrambled over a stile and onto the footpath toward Thorn Hill. Amelia clamored to be set on her feet again, and took Kate's hand for help over the rocks and roots.

Christina shook her head. "The refreshments are always terrible—watery lemonade and stale sandwiches and cakes. The Ross girls dance every dance, taking all the suitable partners, and even if they did not, I'm a terrible dancer, anyway. So there's never anyone to talk to, and I feel like a fool standing about there."

Kate saw the exaggerated chagrin on Christina's face and gave her a gentle smile, even though she sort of wanted to laugh. Laughter would never encourage Christina to feel better about herself, and that was all Kate wanted. Kate might be no help at all when it came to plants and such, but she
did
know how to comport herself at parties. "That doesn't sound much fun, Christina," she said. "Yet assemblies
can
be survivable, I promise. They can even sometimes be enjoyable. I'll help you."

Christina shot her a suspicious glance. "How, Mrs. Brown?"

"Well, we can start by practicing dancing. We'll begin as soon as we get back to Thorn Hill. Gavottes, schottisches, reels—even a waltz, if you like."

"Can I dance, too, Mrs. Brown? Please?" Amelia pleaded, tightening her clasp on Kate's hand.

Kate laughed and twirled the giggling child around in a wide circle. "Of course, Mademoiselle Amelia! You will have to make your debut in a few years, too. Though the styles in dancing will probably have changed by then. Or you can play the music for us."

Even Christina smiled at their antics as she watched Kate and Amelia swirl over the pathway. "Mother says I'm an utterly hopeless dancer."

"Well, we shall just have to prove her wrong, won't we?" Kate said merrily.

Amelia gaped up at her. "Grandmama is
never
wrong!"

Kate kissed the child's cheek again as they started up the long drive at Thorn Hill. "Everyone is wrong sometimes, Amelia, dearest. That is why we are humans and not angels."

"
I
am wrong sometimes," Amelia admitted. "Like when I called a cow a
fromage,
but that was actually a cheese. But
not
Grandmama. Or Papa."

Kate envied Amelia her certainty of mind. She wasn't sure she herself had ever had a time when she did not see that the world was made of folly and avarice. Yet there was no more time for talk, as they came closer to the house and saw that Lady Darcy herself stood under the front portico.

There was a large, unused fountain set on a round pedestal near the portico, and three farmworkers were busy cleaning it of its gathered winter detritus of leaves and twigs. Lady Darcy supervised, wrapped in a yellow cashmere shawl against the afternoon breeze.

"Be very careful to clean under the cupid," she instructed. "The water cannot flow properly if—" She broke off when she glimpsed their little party trudging up to the door. "So you are back from Suddley, Christina? I trust that all was well there."

"Of course, Mother," Christina answered, her smile entirely vanished. "I didn't cause a riot at the apothecary, or spit in the street, or anything of that sort."

"Of course you did not, dear," Lady Darcy said. "You had Mrs. Brown there to keep an eye on you."

"Lady Christina was a perfect lady, Lady Darcy," Kate said, hoping her words could have
some
weight. Christina
had
been polite, even if under duress with the Ross clan.

Lady Darcy nodded doubtfully. "And did you meet anyone there?"

"Lady Ross, with Louisa and Emmeline. Rose and Letitia were still at Ross Lodge," Christina answered, fidgeting with her book parcel. "They sent you their greetings, and said they hoped to see you at the assembly on Saturday."

Lady Darcy's eyes lit up, and the small frown creasing her forehead cleared. It was easy to see that she, unlike her daughter, enjoyed the dubious pleasures of the assembly rooms. "Oh, yes, of course! I have been so looking forward to it. I have not seen Lady Ross in an age."

"She called just a few days ago," Christina muttered.

Kate surreptitiously poked Christina in the side with her elbow, but Lady Darcy appeared not to have heard her. "You can wear that new yellow muslin gown, Christina—it is very becoming. And I know that Michael will accompany us. He will want to see Emmeline Ross, of course. But go upstairs now, Christina dear, and change your dress for tea. I can't wait to hear your new song at the pianoforte, Amelia, darling."

Christina nodded, and disappeared into the house as quickly as her feet could carry her. Kate followed at a more sedate pace with Amelia.

Well, she thought smugly, she knew one thing—Michael Lindley could
never
be interested in a giggling red-haired kitten like Emmeline Ross. He was much too sensible. She and her sister reminded Kate of some girls she had known in Venice, the Donizetti sisters, who pursued every man in the city with little success. Why that knowledge should give her such a frisson of pleasure, she did not dare to say, but the truth was that it
did.

Oh, how she wished she could be a little fly on the wall in those assembly rooms! Just to watch the dancing and hear the conversation, see the machinations of the Ross girls and know that they would never work, would be such fun. It had been much too long since she was at a party.

Chapter 11

Kate was having a remarkably fine time. She sat in a quiet, half-shadowed corner of the assembly room, watching the many young—and not so young—dancers skip happily through a reel. She tapped her slippered toes, sipped at a glass of warmish lemonade, and thought how fortunate it was that Lady Darcy's headache had kept her at Thorn Hill tonight. Well,
not
fortunate that Lady Darcy was ill, of course, but fortunate that Kate's services as chaperone were now required.

She had never been to a party in England before, and it was most interesting. There were far more people in the environs of Suddley than she would have supposed. Young ladies in pale muslins and silks mingled with young gentlemen, local squires and attorneys and curates in starched neckcloths and dark coats. They danced, and laughed, and chatted under the watchful eyes of mothers, while fathers and husbands drifted away to the card room or the refreshment tables. The musicians, local men set up on a dais with their instruments, made up for a certain lack of talent with great enthusiasm. Their joyous notes echoed to the plaster rosettes on the ceiling.

Kate had watched as Michael was adroitly cornered by Lady Ross and her pack of kittens the moment they entered the room. She and Christina had barely divested themselves of their wraps when they were neatly cut off from their escort, and he was borne away to dance first with Louisa and then with Emmeline. The glance he threw back over his shoulder, above the sea of pink ruffles and satin ribbons, was an almost comical picture of dismay. One would have thought he was being dragged down to damnation by pastel-muslin-clad handmaids of the devil. But there was nothing either Kate or Christina could do to extricate him, and it would appear unfortunately rude if he was to extricate himself.

So Kate followed Christina to what was obviously her favorite corner of the room, and they seated themselves to observe the swirl of merriment. Or at least
Kate
observed it. Christina wore a thoughtful frown on her face, as if her mind were a million miles away, and the hard, sharp lump in her reticule appeared suspiciously like a book.

At least Christina looked well, Kate thought with a certain proud satisfaction as she stole a sidelong glance at her charge. Christina had accepted Kate's gift of a jar of rose lotion, procured from the apothecary on their earlier voyage into Suddley, and her skin now appeared a bit smoother and less sun browned. She had also submitted to the coiffure experiments of Kate and the maid Sarah, sitting still while they examined the latest copy of
La Belle Assemblee
and tried various arrangements of curls and ribbons. The smile Christina gave them as they moved pins this way and that was filled with patience and condescension, but Kate was having so much fun she just didn't care.

And the results were worth it. Christina's light brown hair, streaked with pale gold from her time outdoors, was turned into smooth ringlets and caught into artful disarray with blue and white ribbons and mother-of-pearl combs. She wore a pale yellow muslin gown trimmed with small white bows, and a single strand of creamy pearls circled her throat.

She looked like a most respectable, and very pretty, young lady, Kate thought smugly as she surveyed her handiwork. Aside from the book in her reticule, its hard edges stretching out the beaded silk, Christina was perfect. Now if she would only dance. As her brother was doing.