Chapter 19 Kitty
What can be worse
Than to dwell here, driv’n out from bliss?
JOHN MILTON, PARADISE LOST
Reputation, once shattered, is like fine china—it cannot be mended.
Numb, I sat in the breakfast room, morning light casting dappled shadows on the walls as I turned the newspaper over in my hands.
The headline was unmistakable, and my heart plummeted as I read the expected words.
A wave of agony flooded over me again. Knowing such gossip would come didn’t make the moment any easier to bear.
MISS GRENVILLE AND LORD CHUDLEY: A SCANDALOUS AFFECTION?
Engagement between Miss Kitty Grenville and Lord Chudley is said to be imminent, though neither party has publicly confirmed.
Whispers abound regarding their growing closeness, despite the lady’s earlier entanglement with Mr. Sinclair.
Lord Chudley, after a losing streak in the gambling dens, needs a rich heiress to . . .
An acidic taste filled my mouth as I let the paper fall from my fingers, the truth too awful to digest.
Entanglement with Mr. Sinclair. I could still feel the brush of his mouth against mine, warm and comforting against the chill gathering force within me.
The door to the breakfast room burst open with a force that made me jump. My grandfather, his face crimson, stormed inside.
“Katherine Aurora Grenville,” he roared, his voice echoing in the room. “What have you done? Have you no shame?”
He snatched the paper out of my hands. Rage contorted his face into a mask, changing him into an unrecognizable stranger, as he crumpled it in his fist.
“Just like your mother, that minx who ensnared my son—this, this scandalous display! An embarrassment to the family, and worse—tainting the Grenville name!” His voice trembled with fury as he took a menacing step toward me. For one terrible moment, I thought he would strike me.
I did not think anyone could be so cruel—so pointed with his words, cutting me to pieces. I could only gape at him as his accusations sank into me. I was a fool. A misguided fool. Worse, I had ruined our family’s standing with my careless behavior.
My heart pounded as I clutched the armrests, trying to steady myself against the force of his wrath.
“You will marry Mr. Sinclair, and you will do it now, or you will ruin everything we’ve worked for!”
I quaked beneath his glare, all impudence and rebellious spirit gone. “He is leaving for India shortly. I have not received a marriage proposal from either man. To be fair, Lord Chudley preyed upon our family with a premature notice of our engagement. It is all false. I have not accepted his suit.”
“Your behavior cannot go unchecked!”
Pressing a hand against my chest, I rose from my chair while gulping for air as Grandfather marched past me.
I had a terrifying memory of being abandoned—ripped away from those I needed most. A vague recollection seared the deepest recess of my soul, and despite my fear of him, I reached out a hand as if to keep him from leaving.
To somehow plead my case and be understood.
He glanced at my outstretched hand with unrelenting disgust. “I wish you had never been born.”
And with that, any last cord tying me to him broke.
Freddy helped me to my room. She drew the drapes, suffusing the elegant decor with shadows, and sat beside me, holding my hand. No lectures. No admonishments. Only the ticking of a brass clock set high on the marble mantelpiece.
Aunt received a note canceling my tea visit with Lady Ashford and her bluestocking society, confirming my worst fears. Even the most enlightened of women wanted nothing to do with me.
I licked my dry lips. “You were right. I should have simply told Grandfather no.”
Freddy clutched my hand and squeezed, tears brimming in her eyes.
“Oh, Kitty, no, no. Do not blame yourself for his rage. I didn’t realize how awful the colonel truly is.
I knew he had a temper, but not to that degree.
We all heard him scream at you. No decent man would say such horrid things to his family. ”
A shudder rippled through me, and I released her hand, then rolled over onto my side on the canopied bed while clutching a pillow to my chest. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were sore and gritty, and a terrible emptiness yawned inside me.
“I fear I have destroyed everything, including any semblance of a season for you, if you remain connected to me,” I admitted.
Freddy waved aside my declaration. “Bosh. I had no chance of a proper season, and you know it. Your family was kind enough to let me accompany you.”
She leaned closer. “But Kitty, you’re not the only one at fault. Who knows what seeds of gossip Lord Chudley planted to sway you to his side? It seems he was determined to secure you in order to save himself from creditors. His behavior to Mr. Sinclair makes all the more sense.”
I didn’t reply, clutching the pillow tighter as the memory of Sebastian’s kiss played over in my mind, its tenderness both a comfort and a source of confusion—a secret I shared with my closest friend.
Freddy bit her lip. “As for Mr. Sinclair,” she said, her voice dropping, “I don’t know what to think of him. A man doesn’t kiss a woman so lightly. At least, not unless he is serious about her.”
I turned my face into the pillow, warmth rising to my cheeks. “He caught me quite unaware, yet I suppose I did invite it.”
“I suspect you’ve thought of nothing else,” she said. “Kitty . . . do you care for him?”
I hugged the pillow tighter, unable to add to my greatest fear that Sebastian would come to revile me as Grandfather clearly had. “I do, Freddy. So help me, I do.”
Her expression softened.
No doubt I would face continued shunning as that poor woman did at Lord Chudley’s ball, further injuring our family’s reputation.
Edward didn’t care a whit for the Grenville name, but to my dismay, I found I did.
I cared very much, it seemed. Nausea bucked within my stomach as I recalled the scandalous gossip rag declaring what a breaker of hearts I must be.
Grandfather had alluded to my mother in similar terms. A woman of easy virtue.
“I wish I could find a suitable cave and hide away in it for all eternity. Promise me you will guard the bedroom door and let no one in. No one, Freddy. I don’t want to see a single soul.”
She shook her head. “You cannot hide away, Kit. We cannot allow our mistakes, nor the evil of others, to define our path or our identity. The ton have far greater scandals to hide. It’s simply easier for them to point to others than examine their own black hearts.”
Her words might be true, but they offered no comfort.
Perhaps I drifted into a fretful sleep, but dimly, I thought I heard the rustle of her skirt as she went to the door and opened it a crack.
“She will not see any visitors. I don’t know what to do for her, other than pray. Tell me what to do, please. How can I help her?”
A rumbling voice . . . Edward’s? Or was it Sebastian’s?
I didn’t know. I was simply too grief-stricken to care.