Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy (6 page)

Daunted, Kitty nodded.

"Edward Kingsman believes himself in love with Polly Cooper, general maid at your house. As you pointed out, she is really not worthy of this honor-"

Kitty opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it.

"Or at least," he amended with a smile, "could be said to be flattered by it. All the same, his regard is genuine. I gather that in the five years she's been in service at your house you've given her extra education. Apparently, she would be able to hold her own in a much higher level of the servants' world."

"
Pol is the equal of anyone," Kitty said.

"
In the eyes of God, I am sure you are right," he responded smoothly. "I, however, am not sure this match is wise, though I would certainly be willing to arrange matters so that Ned could marry and stay in my service. You, too, have doubts, as any sensible woman must. But it is hardly fair, Miss Mayhew, to forbid a match before we know if it is based on a genuine attraction."

Bludgeoned by reason, Kitty relented just a little.
"So what do you suggest, my lord?"

"
A courtship. I suggest we permit them to meet and learn about each other just as people of our own station would."

Such a marriage would be a wonderful thing for Pol, if it worked out.
"I would like to believe that Mr. Kingman's intentions are honorable, my lord, but I can't put blind faith in that. What if we permit them to meet and he is less than honorable?"

"
He gets her with child? I'd make him marry her, never fear."

"
But would that be fair to her? Foolish though it is, a woman can be seduced without the man being an ideal husband. I wouldn't want Pol trapped for life with an unpleasant and even resentful man because I allowed her too much freedom."

"
I rather thought we'd outlawed slavery," he murmured.

"
I beg your pardon?"

"
If we can regulate the freedom of others, does not that make them slaves?"

"I would never have taken you for a radical free-thinker, my lord."

"
You'd be astonished by the workings of my mind, my dear Miss Mayhew. Why not become acquainted with them as we allow our slaves to assess one another?"

"
What?" Kitty was sweating, and the heat was stimulated by something in his eyes.

"
I'm suggesting that we let Ned court Pol, and that we act as chaperones. I'm sure it will be a tedious duty, but in the process we can each learn something of the other's mind."

"
Chaperones," echoed Kitty. "But why two? One would suffice."

"
Are you willing to entrust Pol to Ned with only me as guardian?"

Kitty most certainly was not.
"Then perhaps I should be the chaperone."

"
But can I abandon Ned to that arrangement?"

Kitty glared at him, but could see he meant to be difficult about it. And really, there was no reason to be nervous. She and Lord Chatterton would be chaperoned by Ned and Pol.

He smiled slightly, as if he could read her mind. "I'm living here with just the one servant. It puzzles you, doesn't it? If you agree to my plan, I promise to explain all."

"
I don't indulge in vulgar curiosity," Kitty lied. "But as you say, it is only fair to allow Pol and Ned to become acquainted. How is it to be arranged?"

"
I suggest that each evening we four gather, alternating houses. We can talk, play cards, do whatever amuses us for a few hours. After some days of this, surely everyone will be clearer in their minds."

"
Everyone?"

"
Ned and Pol will know their minds. And we will know whether to approve or not."

Kitty was still unaccountably nervous.
"I would think you would have other things to do with your evenings, my lord."

"
Not just now, no. Well, Miss Mayhew?"

"
How long is this to go on?"

"
The servants here will begin to return on January 6th, the day after Twelfth Night."

"
Mine will be back on the 7th."

"
So, we have ten nights."

"
It seems an imposition on you, my lord."

"
No more of an imposition than it is for you, Miss Mayhew."

"
But I live very quietly, especially now I am in mourning. You..."

"
I?" Humor crinkled his eyes. "I need a break from my life of endless dissipation. Have pity, Miss Mayhew. Ten days of healthy suppers with very little wine and early bedtimes -- I'll be fit as a fiddle by Twelfth Night."

He was fit as a fiddle now, no one could deny that. Kitty hadn't really thought of it, but he didn't look like a worn-out libertine.

That was irrelevant anyway. She must do what was best for Pol. She didn't think of her maid as a slave, but she did feel some responsibility. She could no more agree to her wandering about with a man unchaperoned than she could agree to such behavior for a young sister.

If she had a young sister, then chaperoned social activities would be exactly what was called for.  She could see no reason to refuse the plan, though a part of her wanted to.

Very badly.

Another part of her, however, was suddenly looking forward to the next ten nights more than she could ever have imagined. She was very curious about this man.

"Very well, my lord. But I reserve the right to put a stop to the plan if necessary."

"
And I the same. Perhaps after a few unclandestine meetings, both Ned and Pol will find the magic fading. Familiarity, after all, is said to breed contempt."

"
And `Sweets grown common lose their dear delight,' my lord? I think I understand your purpose now."

"
And your Shakespeare caps my Aesop. You understand all too little, Miss Mayhew, despite your scholarly upbringing. So, tonight. Your house or mine?"

Kitty rose, pulling on her gloves to hide her fluster at the simple question.
"Yours," she said, since she wasn't ready to have him invading her territory. "But what will people think to see me visiting your house every other night?"

"
Not to mention my coming to yours. Perhaps," he said, pulling the bell-rope, "through the garden and mews, like a hopeful tom? There's actually a gate, if you care to unlock it."

Kitty wished he would stop making these suggestive remarks. They didn't mean anything, but they unsettled her, and he knew it. She feared he not only intended this courtship to cool Ned and Pol's ardor, but to provide amusement for himself in teasing her.

Before she could put words to any of this, however, Ned was there being informed of their plans. Kitty immediately felt ashamed of her earlier suspicions, for no one could doubt the shining delight that lit his face.

Just as Pol's face had glowed at merely speaking of him.

It was undoubtedly that plague called love.

So be it. As Kitty left the house, she decided to try to make this match work for Pol -- regardless of Lord Chatterton's cynical intentions.

((---))

By way of exploration, Kitty returned the back way, finding that a narrow footpath from the mews led down the back of the gardens on
Suffolk Street to Charles Street. It was clearly a well-used shortcut. As Lord Chatterton had said, there was a gate in her garden wall, but it was firmly locked and covered by ivy. She remembered it now from childhood explorations, but wondered if it could be opened after all these years.

She took the path down to
Charles Street and returned home to explain the plan to Pol. Again, it was as if a candle lit behind the girl's eyes, they shone so.

"
Oh, Miss Kitty. Thank you! I know he's above me, but he's such a lovely man...." Tears started. "Thank you. Thank you!"

Kitty gathered the girl into a hug.
"Don't make your eyes red, dear. And mark, this is just to let you become acquainted. You might find you don't like him so well, or he you."

Pol sniffed and blew her nose on a handkerchief, one of the ones Kitty had given her as a present.
"I know that, miss. But at the moment, I just want to be able to spend time with him. I think of him all the time. I know it's daft, but I do. All the time."

Kitty laughed.
"Sounds like love to me, Pol. It can fade, but why not enjoy it while you can?"

And that, she thought, was good advice for herself. She knew she was thinking of Lord Chatterton far too much, and was intrigued by his teasing ways. If she accepted that it was just in fun, she could enjoy it and give as good as she got.

Memories of that nighttime kiss flickered. She could bear a repeat of that, too. Perhaps while Ned and Pol were exploring their love, she could enjoy a safe little flirtation with a dashing nobleman. It was a chance not likely to come her way again.

And she could satisfy her curiosity, too. She did want to know why he was lurking almost alone in that magnificent house over Christmas.

"Very well," she said to Pol, "but if you want to go a-courting, we'd best find a way to open that gate. The gentlemen might be happy to climb the wall, but I most certainly am not."

It wasn't too hard. An old bunch of heavy keys provided one that turned the lock, though it took some squirts of oil to get it moving with ease. Kitty made short work of the ivy with a pair of garden shears, whilst Pol dug up two small bushes that had been planted where the path should be.

Kitty surveyed their work with satisfaction, but then laughed. "You know, we really should have made the men come over and do all this."

"
Oh no," said Pol. "I think we have to each take care of our own ground."

And that, thought Kitty, was very wise indeed.

Chapter Four

That evening, Kitty decided that she hadn't been in such a fluster since her first dance as a girl of sixteen. And it wasn't even as if she had anything to be flustered about. Not only was she a mere chaperone tonight, but her wardrobe offered only four black dresses, all of virtually the same plain design. None of them was suited to an evening with
a lord.

An evening with a lord.

She acknowledged that she wasn't merely a chaperone. Lord Chatterton seemed inclined to flirt with her, and she intended to enjoy the experience.

She was still in mourning, however, so she squashed the temptation to add some jewelry, and arranged her hair in its normal smooth knot high on her head. Then she grimaced at her plain reflection.

He might have been inclined to flirt with her in the garden, when she was roughly dressed and her hair was flying loose. Now, however, she was Kitty Mayhew again, a woman men showed no amorous interest in at all.

How tempting to dress wildly and leave her hair flowing loose. She laughed at the absurd idea.

She did wish her hair would hold a curl, however. For fashion, she needed tight curls around her face, but she'd learned young that nothing would compel her hair to hold curls for an evening. She'd had nearly a decade to become used to that fact, so why was she even thinking of digging out her mother's old curling iron?

Irritated by her own folly, she set her black straw bonnet firmly on top of her hair and went to find Pol.

She had to admit to curiosity as to what her maid would wear to go courting. Over the years, Kitty had given her a number of gowns to alter and refurbish for herself. Pol was shorter, and so the gowns did fit with a little letting out.

Kitty was pleased to see that the girl had not given in to any extravagant impulses. She wore a cream muslin gown that Kitty remembered, but which was now pleasantly trimmed with embroidered red flowers around hem and neckline and on the inset panel at the front of the bodice. The low neck was filled with a soft, white fichu. On her head she wore a red cloth toque that enclosed all her hair but a few curls at the front, and they were disguised by a pretty pleated frill.

It was just the sort of headdress a nimble-fingered lady could make for herself, and very fetching. Kitty couldn't help thinking that such a frill would soften her own looks without curls.

"
Pol, you look delightful," she said honestly. "I think perhaps I should promote you to lady's maid."

Pol's color was already excited, and now it deepened.
"I do like to make pretty clothes, miss. But..."

Kitty grinned.
"But you're hoping not to be in my employ much longer. Very well. Let's go on our adventure."

Merely adding large warm shawls to their outfits, they slipped out the back door and crept across the dark garden. Kitty felt like a housebreaker and the crunch of frosted grass beneath her half-boots sounded like a fusillade of arms loud enough to wake their neighbors. She half expected one to fling up a window, crying,
"What's amiss? Who goes there?"