Kitty

Despair gripped Kitty. Could she make no impression upon him? His conviction of this false identity appeared unshakeable. What could she say to make him recognise that he was making an error, which could not fail to have serious repercussions? She clenched her hands in her lap as the curricle slowed for the turn into Edgware Road.

‘You will not believe me, but you will be sorry presently, I promise you.’

His head turned. ‘I should dashed well think I will be, if Aunt Silvia chooses to cut up rough! If I don’t get you back as fast as bedamned, as sure as check she will have gone to the Countess in hysterics, and then the fat will be in the fire, and no mistake!’

Kitty caught her breath against a rising sob. ‘I think you are mad! And if you are not put in prison for this day’s work, very likely you will end in Bedlam.’

‘Ha! Hark at the pot calling the kettle black! The only thing that would put me in Bedlam is finding that I’ve got to marry you, after all. Which is what the Countess is bound to say if she gets wind of this escapade.’

So saying, he put the horses into the corner at a speed that raised the hairs on the back of Kitty’s neck. The curricle swerved horribly and she clutched hastily at the side, fearful of being overturned. But within seconds, the vehicle had made the turn and was running straight and true down the Edgware Road.

It was a moment or two before Kitty’s fright abated enough to think over what he had said. Not that it made sense. Had he mentioned marriage? Certainly, his words bore out that he truly had mistaken her for another. Was she so much like this Kate?

He turned his head again and the blue eyes raked her. ‘What in Hades possessed you, Kate? Thought you were a biddable girl. Can’t blame you for rebelling, for I want the match as little as you do. Only why go to these lengths? Told you I had the matter in hand, didn’t I? Should have known I’m not the fellow to let myself be pushed into it when the female ain’t willing. I know my mother’s a tartar, but I ain’t about to knuckle under over this, and so I tell you!’

Kitty began to be curious, despite her lurking apprehension. ‘Is your family then constraining you to marry your cousin?’

She received a disgusted look. ‘Don’t start all that again! As if you were indeed someone other than Kate.’

The curiosity turned to annoyance. ‘But I have told you so! Why you should mistake me for your cousin, I cannot tell, but I am not she.’

‘I’ve had enough of this!’ He glanced over his shoulder to address his groom. ‘Docking, who is this female?’

Kitty turned in her seat and found the liveried fellow grinning. ‘Why, it’s Miss Katherine, me lord.’

‘And what relation is she to me?’

‘Cousin, me lord, being as your ma and her ma be sisters.’

The blue gaze swung back upon Kitty. ‘I rest my case.’

But Kitty’s attention had caught upon the manner of the groom’s address. Almost she held her breath. ‘Are you indeed a lord?’

‘Don’t be a nodcock, Kate. You know I am.’

Kitty experienced a jolting leap in her chest, and turned to stare at the gentlemen’s profile. He looked to be pleasant enough—if only she had not discovered him to be anything but!—for his features were clean cut and even, the nose straight and true, the lip rounded. She had taken in little in the brief glimpse she’d had of his hair, except that it was of pale gold. But there was something about the chin. Kitty examined the chin with a certain intentness. It was not a heavy jaw, by any means, only that chin had a stubborn jut. Which explained why his character did not match his appearance! Only he was a lord.

‘Your name is Claud?’ she ventured.

‘Devil take it, Kate, will you stop this?’

Then she had recalled it aright. ‘And you are unmarried?’

‘They could scarce be constraining me to marry you if I wasn’t.’

A daring thought occurred to Kitty, and her heart jumbled its beat. ‘Is it not the case that if you ruin my reputation by abducting me, you ought in honour to offer me marriage?’

‘Lord above!’ Claud’s horrified gaze swept hers. ‘What the deuce will you be at? You ran off only because you don’t want to marry me, didn’t you?’

The daring notion died at birth. Kitty sighed. ‘I keep telling you I am not your cousin. It is true that my name is Katherine, but—’

‘Listen!’ begged Claud. ‘I don’t know what your game is, but I’m at the end of my rope! Any more, and I’ll tie something round your mouth, so you can’t talk!’

Having no reason to disbelieve him—had not the brute thrown her pell-mell over his shoulder in that horrid way?—Kitty refrained from responding in kind and subsided into brooding silence. The pace of the curricle picked up, causing a wind to fly at her for which she was most unsuitably clad. Realisation hit, and the pit of her stomach vanished. She was being driven to London, with nothing but the clothes upon her back! She would likely die of exposure, if she did not expire from sheer terror.

The shock of her enforced capture had in fact receded, although Kitty could not subdue the leaping apprehension. That she had been mistaken for another could not be in doubt, and what would happen when her captor discovered it, she dared not think. Not that she was in any way to blame! If there was any justice, this Claud must acknowledge it. Surely, he would make her reparation? At least he must find a way to send her back to the Seminary.

That he would opt to send her back was all too likely, Kitty reflected a little despondently. He showed no sign of being attracted to her. He clearly did not wish to marry his cousin. And since Kitty evidently resembled her, she could not suppose he would wish to marry her either. A pity, for she desperately wanted to marry a lord! Still, it might not be comfortable to be wed to a stranger, and it was apparent that it would be difficult to bring this Claud up to scratch.

Besides, he was a brute! She recalled the rough treatment she had received at his hands—and the recent threat—with a resurgence of outrage. Oh, but she would serve him out for it! Only wait until he discovered his mistake. For discover it he must, sooner or later. However much she resembled his cousin—

The thought died. Kitty’s pulse did a rapid tattoo and shot into a wild thumping that echoed in her ears. Why had she not thought of it at once? If she was this alike to an unknown female, there could be only one explanation. She had stumbled inadvertently upon a member of her lost family.

Buried in his own thoughts, Claud, Viscount Devenick, paid scant heed to his cousin beside him, although she came within the scope of his ruminations. His temper had cooled, but he was at a loss to account for Kate’s freakish conduct. Not that he would question her again. If she meant to persist with this ridiculous masquerade, it would only drive him up into the boughs. Thank the Lord she had ceased her nonsensical arguing. Did she think he truly would have gagged her? Should have known him better. Clearly she did not, as this escapade proved. Silly chit hadn’t trusted him!

He reminded himself that she was only eighteen and just out this season. From the vantage point of five and twenty, it was clear how readily this escapade could put the cat among the pigeons. Faced with a niece who ran away rather than marry her cousin, ten to one his mother would force him to the altar on the pretext that Kate had blasted her reputation.

Not that he was such a nodcock as not to realise why Lady Blakemere had taken this notion into her head. If it hadn’t been for Grandmama’s promised legacy to the girl to give her a decent dowry, the scheme would not have occurred to the Countess. As if he hadn’t enough money of his own! And all his mother would keep saying was that the Dowager Duchess’s money ought to be kept in the family. A pity he had no brother instead of three sisters. It would have made sense for a younger son to dangle after the loot. But not for Claud to tie himself up in matrimony to Kate, of all girls under the sun!

She was comely enough, but what man wanted to wed his cousin? Besides, she was a thought too much of a milk-and-water miss for his taste. Which made her conduct today all the more incomprehensible. He’d never known the chit to be so flighty, nor to face him down as she had. A faint stirring of interest rose up. Perhaps there was more to young Kate than he had thought. He turned to glance at her, and found her studying him, her dark brows lowering. Claud shot instantly to the attack.

‘What are you scowling for? You should be grateful to me.’

She continued to stare at him, a pout forming on her lips.

‘Lost your tongue?’ demanded Claud crossly. ‘Answer me, can’t you?’

It was too much. Kitty lost her temper.

‘Answer me, can’t you!’ she echoed, in almost exact imitation of his tone. ‘Why should I answer you, when you can think of nothing better to do than to threaten me? Is it not enough that you have dragged me by force into your carriage?’

‘That was your own fault, Kate. Why couldn’t you come quietly? Fought like a wildcat!’

‘And I would do so again!’

But to his utter bewilderment, the chit abruptly burst into tears. Claud was thrown into instant disorder. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

‘Hey, no need to turn into a watering pot!’

‘Yes, there is,’ sobbed Kitty, hunting frantically for her pocket-handkerchief. ‘You don’t know what you’ve done, and I can’t tell you. Except that it is terrible!’

Unable to find the handkerchief, Kitty recalled that she’d had it in her hand when this infamous Claud had come upon her. It must have been lost in the struggle. She sniffed, turning on her abductor.

‘And you made me lose my handkerchief!’

He transferred the reins to his left hand and dug the right into a pocket of his frock coat. ‘Here.’

Kitty snatched the snowy white pocket-handkerchief he presented to her and defiantly blew her nose, wiping away her tears. The desire to weep was receding, but she did not return the handkerchief, instead jerking it between her fingers in a nervous fashion. The wind had begun to make her feel chilled, reminding her of the woeful lack in her costume. She looked round at the author of her plight.