Chapter Ten
“How goes your courtship with Miss Childs?”
Oliver looked up from his plate of eggs and sausage to find his mother watching him expectantly.
“It is not a real courtship, Mother.” At least not officially.
There had been moments, particularly on horseback and with a cricket bat in his hands, that he’d wished it to be otherwise.
But as far as he was aware, Kitty was only spending time with him to quiet the whispers.
She’d even called their courtship “feigned” the evening of the ball.
The cricket match was another matter, as he had essentially asked Arabella to abduct her.
He would, of course, have allowed them to leave had she requested it.
“Is it not?” Lady Diana made an exaggerated show of pondering while chewing a small bite of eggs. “Pray tell me, how does a clandestine cricket match fulfill Lady Sampson’s plan for you to appear as a completely unremarkable courting couple?”
Oliver choked on a bit of toast. Struggling for air, he reached for the cup of tea in front of him while Tim, most unhelpfully, slapped him on the back.
When he finally regained his composure, he ignored the comment about the cricket match.
At some point, he would ask how his mother knew.
But for now, it seemed best to redirect the conversation.
Any questions he posed risked opening himself up to further interrogation.
“I am taking Miss Childs and her mother to Gunter’s this afternoon,” Oliver explained. “That should fulfill our purposes nicely.”
It was Arabella who questioned him next. “And what exactly are your purposes?”
“To be seen as a completely unremarkable courting couple,” Oliver echoed his mother’s words.
Lady Diana blotted her lips with her linen napkin before setting it on the table. “Are you quite certain?”
Oliver fiddled with his own napkin for a moment before admitting, “I wish to know Miss Childs better. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Not necessarily,” Tim answered. “But be careful. I would hate to see you hurt, or Miss Childs.”
The arrival of Uncle Fulbourn cut off any further discussion.
As Oliver finished his breakfast and went about his day, he considered his brother’s warning.
He was not yet sure if he had the power to hurt Kitty.
She may very well be tolerating him for her reputation’s sake.
But there was no doubt in his mind that she had the power to crush him.
He could not deny, at least to himself, that he’d developed a tender regard for the spunky young woman.
He thought back to how his stomach had fluttered as he held her after her impressive cricket hit. Perhaps more than just a tender regard.
When Oliver arrived to collect Mrs. Childs and her daughter for their trip to Gunter’s, Miss Childs stepped out of the townhouse wearing her now familiar mask.
Looking at her pasted-on smile, he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness and frustration.
But rather than being directed towards Kitty, as they had been in the past, the emotions Oliver felt were on her behalf.
His heart broke for her, knowing that she could never be herself when with her mother.
The mask she wore was less deceptive than it was protective.
She felt forced to hide from society, and from her own mother.
“Are you going to hand me in to the coach, young man?” Mrs. Childs’ voice dripped with feigned cordiality.
Oliver took a step closer and held out a hand. “My apologies, madam. I fear I was woolgathering.”
Once her mother was seated inside, Kitty slipped her own small hand into his. “Woolgathering?” she whispered in a coquettish tone as she climbed into his carriage.
Evidently Kitty had noticed his marked attention as she descended the front steps. Perhaps he should have felt embarrassed, but instead he enjoyed her teasing.
Once the ladies were situated, Oliver climbed in after them and took his place on the rear-facing seat.
When he looked up and met Kitty’s eyes, her mask was firmly back in place.
All at once, Oliver knew the truth. If Kitty would ever give him a real chance, he would make it his life’s mission to ensure she always felt safe enough to throw away the mask. And never put it on again.
Voices droned around Kitty as she sat in Lady Fitchett’s drawing room while her mother enjoyed tea and gossip with her friends. Though she picked up a few words here and there, her mind was otherwise occupied as she replayed the previous few days in her mind.
Two days earlier, Arabella had returned Kitty home from their cricket match with plenty of time to clean up and dress for dinner by the time her mother arrived.
Other than an opportunity to become better acquainted with Lady Diana and Lady Sampson, who had evidently attended as well, her mother had found the charity meeting to be a poor use of her time.
Kitty hoped they would not need to distract her again, because they might need to find another method.
The previous afternoon had included ordering ices from Gunter’s.
The treats were delicious, and the version of Oliver who arrived was perfectly polite and accommodating.
But Kitty could not help but miss the version who teased her before sending an absolutely abysmal bowl in her direction.
Not that she blamed him. After listening to her mother offer her opinions on every flavor of ice in the confectionery, she too struggled to do anything beyond hide behind her mask.
Mrs. Craughton interrupted Kitty’s thoughts by addressing her directly. “I understand you went shopping with Mrs. Linfield on Tuesday.”
“I did,” Kitty replied, grateful they’d stopped on the way to the Hazelwood’s townhouse.
Her next words might be slightly misleading, but they were the absolute truth.
“We started at the haberdashery, though we only left with a bit of ribbon for our efforts. I found the apothecary very well stocked with sweets and other supplies. I purchased a peppermint, while Mrs. Linfield is partial to lemon drops.”
“Only the two stops?” Lady Fitchett chimed in.
Kitty shook her head. “There was a bakery next to the apothecary. It had the most wonderful apple tarts.”
Three stops were not an extended shopping trip, but neither was it suspiciously short.
Her own mother had spent an hour or more looking at just ribbons in a haberdashery before moving on to the lace and other trimmings.
Kitty had no doubt that the three women in the room with her could fill an entire afternoon with just three stops.
Mrs. Craughton looked mildly annoyed at Kitty’s lack of details, something she must have expected given Kitty’s habitual avoidance of gossip.
But instead of pressing, her mother’s friend caught on to the thread about tarts and began asking for suggestions of what to serve at her next garden party.
Grateful for the reprieve, Kitty returned to her own musing.
The cricket match had been the most fun she’d had in a very long time. She could not deny the immense sense of satisfaction she’d felt when not a soul could hit off of her once she found her rhythm. But it was the feeling of safety as Oliver Linfield held her in his arms that dominated her memory.
Over the events of the previous few days, Kitty had accepted the fact that she’d misjudged Oliver Linfield.
He was neither cold nor dismissive, simply uncomfortable in company.
As far as his excuse for misleading her at the circulating library, she was inclined to believe him.
He’d not meant to hurt or embarrass her.
He’d simply made a poor choice when faced with few good ones.
The name “Oliver Linfield” hitting her ears caused Kitty to snap back to the conversation. For a brief moment, she feared she’d spoken it aloud. But no, it was Lady Fitchett who had mentioned the dark-haired gentleman.
“I heard his last visit to London was to meet with creditors,” Lady Fitchett half-whispered, as if sharing a dark secret. “He was trying to negotiate an extension before his debts were called in.”
“Few landowners made a profit last year, with the crop failures.” Mrs. Craughton shook her head in overdone concern. “It could be enough to ruin a man who already had debts hanging over his head.”
Though she’d not thought about them in days, Kitty was well aware of the rumors of Oliver’s insolvency. Kitty glanced at her mother, who looked positively gleeful at the news. She probably assumed that his financial situation made him easier to catch.
Though she knew it would be better to keep her mouth firmly closed, Kitty could not help but defend Oliver.
“I spent a morning at Blackthorne Park during my recent visit to Hampshire. The outbuildings were in good repair and the tenant cottages were well kept. It appeared to be a well managed estate, with no neglect at all.”
“But did you go in the house?” Lady Fitchett asked as all three women leaned forward as if it would help them hear her answer more clearly.
“I did not,” Kitty admitted. “There was a canopy with tables underneath for the food.” She had not told her mother the full story of how she spent her time at Blackthorne Park.
Mrs. Childs would never understand the workday, nor did Kitty want to be lectured for riding around in the back of a farm cart delivering lemonade to tenants.
Despite the fact that the request had come from a baroness and the sister of an earl, her mother would not find her actions ladylike.
“Lady Diana mentioned yesterday that she was undertaking renovations on the house,” Kitty’s mother added to the conversation.