Chapter 1 #2
“Ladies marry far too young these days,” Lady Everly said, taking a small biscuit from the plate on the table beside her. “While I do understand the need for haste for a man who needs an heir or a lady of meager fortune, none of you need worry about that.”
Kit lost the comfortable smile he’d settled into. “One could argue that I am in need of an heir of some sort, if only to appease my father,” he said. “But truth be told, the thought of getting that heir leaves me cold.”
Georgiana and Alice hummed in sympathy. Lady Everly reached over to pat his hand as it rested on the arm of his chair.
If he were honest, Kit had considered offering for either Georgiana or Alice’s hand in the past. They were noblewomen, and though his father would have preferred he marry the daughter of a duke, he would grudgingly approve of either of them.
But Kit knew beyond all doubts that he would never be able to do what was necessary to give them children, and he did not wish that sort of a cold marriage bed on his friends.
“It is a pity any of us have to marry at all,” Alice said, though Kit suspected she only said as much to make him feel better. He knew full well that for all her independence of mind, Alice wished to be a wife and mother.
“Seeing as none of you need to be led to the altar with any haste, let us turn our thoughts back to the coronation,” Lady Everly steered the conversation with consummate ease. “I have never seen so many families remaining in London this late into the season before.”
“But of course everyone has remained in London,” Georgiana said, her expression turning lively again as the conversation returned to merry things. “No one has any wish to miss out on a moment of this historic event.”
“Imagine. A queen!” Alice said with a sigh.
“I daresay a woman will do a much better job of leading this country than men have done for the last several years,” Kit said, relaxing into the idle gossip once more.
“Of course, Lord Melbourne actually leads the country,” Alice said with a sly smile. “And I have it on good authority that the man is a libertine and a rake.”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Everly said with a knowing nod. “ Especially in his younger days. The tales I could tell….” She touched a finger to the side of her nose.
“I love a good rake,” Kit said, settling in with his cup of tea. “They are simply delicious.”
“Did you hear about what Lord Windermere did at The Royal Theater last week?” Georgiana asked, leaning forward a bit. When both Alice and Kit leaned in, she went on with, “He brought his mistress to a performance! The two of them sat together, in full view of everyone.”
“The theater is so deliciously wicked,” Alice laughed. “I wish Mama would let me attend more often.”
“Yes, the theater always has been a rogue’s gallery,” Lady Everly said, as delighted with the gossip as the rest of them. “It is the ideal place for rake-watching.”
Kit laughed. “I shall have to attend a performance as soon as possible, then. Which rakes should I look out for?”
“Lord Avelthorpe, of course,” Alice answered right away. “He is one of the handsomest men in all of London by my reckoning.”
“And one of the most in debt,” Lady Everly said with something of a warning look for Alice.
“I like the look of Lord Deveraux Ogilvy,” Georgiana said with a devilish light in her eyes. “He is both handsome and dangerous.”
Kit’s heart gave a slight stutter. He knew Lord Deveraux Ogilvy, or at least he knew of him.
Lord Deveraux was the third son of the Marquess of Russell and was vaguely part of the same circles his own family was part of.
His mother always spoke of the man with a measure of disapproval and his father had always seemed somewhat intimidated by his reputation.
There was something about the man that marked him as formidable but not quite worthy, but Kit had no idea what that could be.
All he knew was that Lord Deveraux was incredibly handsome, with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and strong arms. His features were pleasingly chiseled, his eyes were a stunning blue, and the few times when Kit had been in the man’s presence, he’d had a difficult time containing his admiration for the man’s form.
“Lady Russell is one of those hosting a ball during the week of the coronation,” Lady Everly said, pulling Kit out of his thoughts. “I could arrange for you all to have invitations, if you’d like to attend.”
“Oh, yes, please!” Georgiana said enthusiastically. She sat a bit straighter and added, “Mama would have to approve, of course, but I cannot imagine she would deny an invitation from a marchioness.”
“My mother certainly would not,” Alice added.
“I will see what can be done,” Lady Everly said with a nod. “And now, let us discuss what we shall wear to all these balls.”
Kit let out a breath, feeling as if he had finally found the place where he belonged. He was uncommonly lucky to have found a group of friends who both knew and understood him and who did not abhor his abnormalities. Instead, his three friends embraced who he was and who he wished to be.
His father likely would have called the constable on the lot of them if he knew just how Kit was able to deport himself and how accepting of that Lady Everly, Georgiana, and Alice were. Taking tea and gossiping with the other ladies was the exact opposite of everything he wished Kit to be.
But that was who Kit was. He was gentle and refined.
He was as feminine as it was possible for him to be with the physical form he’d been born into.
If he could change that form and become something and someone else entirely he would in an instant.
He knew, deep in his soul, that he belonged in the world of women, as one of them, far more than he did in the world of men.
He stayed in that comfortable place where he could be himself for as long as was possible.
Georgiana and Alice left so that they could attend supper at their own homes, but Lady Everly invited Kit to dine with her.
The afternoon turned into evening and the sun began to set before Kit summoned his courage to leave the one place where he was happy and where he could be himself to return to the house that was a home in name only.
“I do wish there was more I could do for you,” Lady Everly said as she made her goodbyes in her front hall. “I know how trying this life is for you.” She rested her hand on the side of Kit’s face.
Kit had washed off the powder and rouge in preparation for returning to the life he’d been cursed with and leaned his face into her touch.
“Thank you, Lady Everly,” he said, still allowing his voice to be soft and feminine. “You’ve no idea what your friendship means to me.”
“Have a care, my dear,” Lady Everly said, stepping back so that Kit could go.
He hated leaving. He hated stepping out of the one place he felt safe and into the darkening world. The last thing he wanted was to rejoin the family that despised him, who he truly was, but he could not see any way out of that life.
He thought about his options as he walked away from Berkeley Square.
He’d longed to leave his family home to set up some sort of house, or even rooms, for himself, but despite his title of Earl of Castleton, his father kept a tight hold of all purse strings associated with the family.
Kit could not access a penny of his income, and he had no way to earn income of his own.
The only possibility for independence and a life lived the way he wanted to live that he could see was to marry, but that brought so many other difficulties with it that?—
Kit’s thoughts were cut short as a thick-set man dressed all in black, his face concealed by a scarf, stepped out of the alley between two houses.
Kit could not see his face, but his shape was exactly that of the man his father had whispered to at the boxing hall.
Without warning or making demands, he launched himself at Kit, slamming a fist into his gut.
Shocked by the attack and by the wretched pain that radiated through him, Kit did nothing but gust out a breath and double over. The attacker came at him again, slamming a hand into the side of his face, then wrestling a stunned Kit into a position where he held Kit’s head and shoulders.
For one, terrifying moment, Kit knew that his attacker was going to snap his neck. He had the strength and the hold to do it. That was it, that was the moment he would die.
A second later, his attacker was wrenched aside by a third man. Kit was so stunned by the shift that he barely heard the man’s shout of, “Unhand him!”
Kit stumbled to the side, losing his balance and spilling to the path. His head spun and the world refused to make sense for a moment. He thought that the new man and the attacker had words or struggled, but within moments, his attacker ran off into the darkness.
Kit groaned and clutched his stomach, wanting only to weep at the terrifying turn of events.
“Are you well?” the man who had swooped in to rescue him asked.
Kit was not well. He had not been well in years. But as he turned his face up and gazed at the man who had rescued him, his heart skipped a beat.
He was staring straight up into the handsome face of Lord Deveraux Ogilvy.