Everyone nodded, and his plan was set into motion. Minutes later, Kate found herself watching Lord Bridgerton and Edwina ride off into the horizon—the very two people she had vowed should never even be in the same room together.
Even worse, she was left alone with Mr. Berbrooke and Newton.
And it took only two minutes to discern that of the two, Newton was the finer conversationalist.
Chapter 5
It has come to This Author’s attention that Miss Katharine Sheffield took offense at the labeling of her beloved pet, “an unnamed dog of indeterminate breed.”
This Author is, to be sure, prostrate with shame at this grievous and egregious error and begs of you, dear reader, to accept this abject apology and pay attention to the first ever correction in the history of this column.
Miss Katharine Sheffield’s dog is a corgi. It is called Newton, although it is difficult to imagine that England’s great inventor and physicist would have appreciated being immortalized in the form of a short, fat canine with poor manners.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 27 APRIL 1814
By that evening, it had become apparent that Edwina had not come through her (albeit brief) ordeal unscathed. Her nose turned red, her eyes began to water, and it was apparent to anyone who glimpsed her puffy face for even a second that, while not seriously ill, she’d caught a bad cold.
But even while Edwina was tucked into bed with a hot water bottle between her feet and a therapeutic potion brewed up by the cook in a mug on her bedside table, Kate was determined to have a conversation with her.
“What did he say to you on the ride home?” Kate demanded, perching on the edge of her sister’s bed.
“Who?” Edwina replied, sniffing fearfully at the remedy. “Look at this,” she said, holding it forward. “It’s giving off fumes.”
“The viscount,” Kate ground out. “Who else would have spoken to you on the ride home? And don’t be a ninny. It’s not giving off fumes. That’s just steam.”
“Oh.” Edwina took another sniff and pulled a face. “It doesn’t smell like steam.”
“It’s steam,” Kate ground out, gripping the mattress until her knuckles hurt. “What did he say?”
“Lord Bridgerton?” Edwina asked blithely. “Oh, just the usual sort of things. You know what I mean. Polite conversation and all that.”
“He made polite conversation while you were dripping wet?” Kate asked doubtfully.
Edwina took a hesitant sip, then nearly gagged. “What is in this?”
Kate leaned over and sniffed at the contents. “It smells a bit like licorice. And I think I see a raisin at the bottom.” But as she sniffed, she thought she heard rain pattering against the glass of the window, and so she sat back up. “Is it raining?”
“I don’t know,” Edwina said. “It might be. It was rather cloudy when the sun set earlier.” She gave the glass one more dubious look, then set it back on the table. “If I drink that, I know it will make me sicker,” she stated.
“But what else did he say?” Kate persisted, getting up to check out the window. She pushed the curtain aside and peered out. It was raining, but only lightly, and it was too early to tell whether the precipitation would be accompanied by any thunder or lightning.
“Who, the viscount?”
Kate thought herself a saint for not shaking her sister senseless. “Yes, the viscount.”
Edwina shrugged, clearly not as interested in the conversation as Kate. “Not much. He asked for my welfare, of course. Which was only reasonable, considering that I had just been dunked in The Serpentine. Which, I might add, was perfectly wretched. Aside from being cold, the water was most certainly not clean.”
Kate cleared her throat and sat back down, preparing to ask a most scandalous question, but one which, in her opinion, simply had to be asked. Trying to keep her voice devoid of the complete and total fascination that was coursing through her veins, she asked, “Did he make any untoward advances?”
Edwina lurched back, her eyes growing round with shock. “Of course not!” she exclaimed. “He was a perfect gentleman. Really, I don’t see what has you so excited. It wasn’t a very interesting conversation. I can’t even remember half of what was said.”
Kate just stared at her sister, unable to fathom that she could have been trapped in conversation with that odious rake for a good ten minutes and it didn’t make an indelible impression on her. Much to her own everlasting dismay, every single awful word he’d said to her was etched permanently on her brain.
“By the way,” Edwina added, “how was your time with Mr. Berbrooke? It took you nearly an hour to return.”
Kate shuddered visibly.
“That bad?”
“I’m sure he will make some woman a good husband,” Kate said. “Just not one with a brain.”
Edwina let out a little giggle. “Oh, Kate, you are awful.”
Kate sighed. “I know. I know. That was terribly cruel of me. The poor man hasn’t an unkind bone in his body. It’s just that—”
“He hasn’t an intelligent bone, either,” Edwina finished.
Kate raised her brows. It was most unlike Edwina to make such a judgmental comment.
“I know,” Edwina said with a sheepish smile. “Now I am the unkind one. I really shouldn’t have said a word, but truly, I thought I would perish on our curricle ride.”
Kate straightened with concern. “Was he a dangerous driver?”
“Not at all. It was his conversation.”
“Boring?”
Edwina nodded, her blue eyes slightly bewildered. “He was so hard to follow it was almost fascinating to try to figure out how his mind works.” She let out a stream of coughs, then added, “But it made my brain hurt.”
“So he’s not to be your perfect scholar-husband?” Kate said with an indulgent smile.
Edwina coughed some more. “I’m afraid not.”
“Maybe you should try a bit more of that brew,” Kate suggested, motioning to the lonely mug sitting on Edwina’s bedside table. “Cook swears by it.”
Edwina shook her head violently. “It tastes like death.”
Kate waited a few moments, then had to ask, “Did the viscount say anything about me?”
“You?”
“No, some other me,” Kate practically snapped. “Of course me. How many other people may I correctly refer to as ‘me’?”
“No need to get upset about it.”
“I’m not upset—”
“But actually, no, he didn’t mention you.”
Kate suddenly felt upset.
“He had a lot to say about Newton, though.”
Kate’s lips parted with dismay. It was never flattering to be passed over for a dog.
“I assured him that Newton is truly the perfect pet, and that I was not at all angry with him, but he was rather charmingly upset on my behalf.”
“How charming,” Kate muttered.
Edwina grabbed a handkerchief and blew her nose. “I say, Kate, you’re rather interested in the viscount.”
“I did spend practically the entire afternoon trapped in conversation with him,” Kate replied, as if that ought to explain everything.
“Good. Then you’ve had a chance to see how polite and charming he can be. He’s very wealthy, too.” Edwina let out a loud sniffle, then fumbled around for a fresh handkerchief. “And while I don’t think that one can choose a husband based entirely on finances, given our lack of funds, I would be remiss not to consider it, don’t you think?”
“Well…” Kate hedged, knowing that Edwina was absolutely correct but not wanting to say anything that might be construed as approval of Lord Bridgerton.
Edwina brought the handkerchief to her face and gave her nose a rather unfeminine blow. “I think we should add him to our list,” she said, snuffling over the words.
“Our list,” Kate echoed, her voice strangled.
“Yes, of possible matches. I think he and I would suit very well.”
“But I thought you wanted a scholar!”
“I did. I do. But you yourself pointed out the unlikelihood of my finding a true scholar. Lord Bridgerton seems intelligent enough. I’ll just have to devise a way to discover if he likes to read.”
“I’d be surprised if that boor can read,” Kate muttered.
“Kate Sheffield!” Edwina exclaimed with a laugh. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
“No,” Kate said baldly, because of course the viscount could read. But he was just so awful in every other way.
“You did,” Edwina accused. “You are the worst, Kate.” She smiled. “But you do make me laugh.”
A low rumble of distant thunder echoed in the night, and Kate forced a smile on her face, trying not to flinch. She was usually all right when the thunder and lightning were far away. It was only when they came one on top of each other, and both seemingly on top of her, that she felt as if she were about to burst from her skin.