Oddly, that was the least of her worries. “Oh, Maryann, no one has seen or spoken to him in almost seven years, according to my mamma. She did not share the details of his last appearance in society, and I did not want to arouse her overly inquisitive nature with my probing. As for the duke, I daresay if that man read or cared to read scandal sheets, he would have responded to the ones that speculated last year that he had died, and his cousin Mr. Eugene Collins would be summoned to court and a declaration that he was the new duke would be made. Then, how about that rumor that said he had ruthlessly seduced Lady Wescott’s niece and absconded with her? Last season that furor was rabid, and the duke hasn’t even demanded a retraction or an apology. No one has heard from him. I promise you he will not see this. I would be astonished if he did.”
“And if he does?”
“He won’t,” Kitty stubbornly insisted. “But…even if he did, surely he would think it another baseless speculation of the press to be added to the many over the years. And my ruse won’t be forever, only for the few weeks remaining in the season. After my sisters have secured important matches, I will cry off the engagement.”
Maryann’s face softened with sympathy. “You’ll be ruined after.”
Kitty lifted a shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “Oh, you know I am without expectation of contracting an eligible alliance.”
Her friend considered, and Kitty schooled her expression into what she hoped was a neutral mask. She’d already cried over what the damage to her reputation at the end of it all would mean.
A possibility of no marriage and children of her own.
Even without the damage to her reputation, no gentleman had shown an interest to court a young lady like her. The past two seasons testified to that distressing knowledge. She was three and twenty. It had been remarked more than once how agreeable and sweet-natured she was. No one used epithets such as “pretty” or “sought-after.” A young man had once said she had “interesting eyes.”
Kitty thought that was the most particular compliment she’d ever received.
“I am not worried about my future. I have long seen that a family of my own is not in the cards for me.”
Her family’s lack of wealth and connections had cemented that for the last few seasons. Now her ruse would be the proverbial final nail in the coffin. On the other hand, if she succeeded in taking advantage of the duke’s connections, at the end she would have to pretend the engagement had been called off. Whispers would abound that the duke had jilted her. Either outcome would see her reputation in tatters at the end.
It is a risk I must take…for Mamma and my sisters. And I must not think the worst!
“I worry that you do not think of your own happiness,” Maryann said with a sigh.
A frightening surge of longing and an ache traveled through Kitty’s heart, and she forcibly suppressed the need for something more. “My sisters are so charming and uncomplaining. They deserve some happiness. Our papa is gone, and Mamma is still stricken with grief over our lamentable prospects and dire futures. It is up to me to secure alliances for them. We will become sought-after once it is known we are related to a duke.”
Maryann hugged her, and with a watery laugh, Kitty returned her embrace.
“We are really doing this,” Maryann vowed. “We are going to be sinful wallflowers.”
Yes, we are… And Kitty prayed she wasn’t making the most dangerous mistake of her life.
Chapter Two
Two weeks later…
Cheapside, London
“Have you seen this?” Annabelle demanded, slapping the newssheet onto the old scarred satinwood table in the center of the small and barely furnished parlor. It pained Kitty to see another tear in the side of the blue muslin spring gown her sister wore. It was only a few days past she had repaired the hems and pockets.
“I haven’t had a chance to read the papers,” Kitty murmured, popping a tart into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
“This outrageous on-dit says you are betrothed to the Duke of Thornton. A duke, Kitty. It reads ‘Lady Gamble has learned from the most unimpeachable source that His Grace, the Duke of Thornton, is betrothed to the Honourable Katherine Danvers of Hertfordshire.’ That is you,” her sister ended on an incredulous gasp.
A shock of pure fear and exhilaration tore through Kitty’s heart.
Finally, a response.
Their younger sister Judith lowered the gothic novel The Devil’s Elixir, which she’d been reading in the dim light of the single lit candle, glancing back and forth between her elder siblings. “Kitty, could this be true?”
Kitty had her sisters’ undivided attention. Even their youngest sibling, Henrietta, who had been practicing her music on a pianoforte in desperate need of a tuning, had faltered. Their mother stirred, shifted from beside the lone window in the room to perch on the arm of the sole, bedraggled armchair present in the parlor to settle her pale blue eyes on her eldest daughter. She indicated for the newssheet and it was pressed into her hands.
Her mother was visibly distressed and struggling not to cry. Lifting her shoulders, she met Kitty’s stare. The vacant, hopeless look disappeared from her eyes to be replaced by a hope so bright and painful, a lump grew in Kitty’s throat.
“Katherine, is there any veracity to Lady Gamble’s claim?”
She had prepared for this, yet there was a moment’s hesitation in her heart. For this decisive step in her deception felt more profound, more frightening than anything else. Now she was offering her family a hope that could be crushed if Kitty was not clever and resourceful. There was also a heavy fear, deep inside, that disappointing her mother would crush the remaining life from her. The very notion was unbearable, and an odd sort of pain clutched at Kitty.