“A pleasure to meet you, Herr Spohr, Frau Spohr,” I said. “I look forward to hearing you perform.”
“Miss Worthington is a musician herself,” Sylvia said,which caused me blush.
Herr Spohr looked interested at that. “Oh? What do you play?”
“Just the pianoforte.”
His gaze turned into a gentle rebuke. “Never say just the pianoforte.
Never slight the instrument, Miss Worthington.”
“It was not the instrument I meant to slight, Herr Spohr, but rather my own skill,” I explained. “I think very highly of the pianoforte. In fact, I am a great admirer of Mozart.”
I would have said more about the great musician who had won my loyalty, but dinner was announced and it was time to make our way, with the crowd of guests, into the dining room. I saw Henry and Miss St.
Claire again. Her copper hair made her difficult to miss in a crowd.
But to my gratification, I was not completely invisible either, for Henry saw me and looked twice. I thought of Alice’s work on my hair and had to keep myself from touching it self-consciously. He threw me a questioning look, as if to ask if I was well, and I smiled back in response.
I was quite well, now that I had a plan.
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Chapter 11
My plan was not advanced one bit at dinner, as I was seated between two married men. So I took advantage of the first opportunity I could find when the gentlemen joined us in the drawing room. The man who had recently returned from India took a seat first, on one of the settees arranged in front of the fire. I hurried to join him before anyone else could claim the seat next to him.
“Mr. Pritchard,” I said. “I am very interested in talking to you about India.”
He was probably twenty years older than I, but Sylvia had confirmed that he was not married. He had sandy blond hair and was very tan. I had chosen him knowing that we would have common interests.
He took his time taking a snuff case out of his pocket, tapping it with a fingernail and then flicking it open. Looking at me, he took a pinch of snuff and said, “Yes? What about?” He held the snuff to a nostril, sniffed, then did the same to the other nostril. He dusted off his fingers and pocketed his snuff case before looking at me again.
Now that I had set the plan in motion, my nervousness had returned in full force. What was I doing? And how would I actually go about en-couraging this man to like me?
Eleanor. The thought came to me again, and I thought of all the times 84
I had watched her flirt. I thought of her smile, and the tilt of her head, and how she would stand and sit and what her hands did.
I slid closer to him on the settee, aware suddenly of the people around us. Tilting my head to one side, as I had seen Eleanor do, I smiled at him.
“I would love to hear what India is like.”
He stared at me without blinking. “Hot.”
I blinked enough for both of us. “Hot?”
“Yes. Hot.”
My smile faltered, especially as I saw the amusement on the faces of the people listening to us.
“Yes, I understand that it is a warmer climate, Mr. Pritchard. But I was hoping you could tell me something more. You see, I plan to travel there myself, very soon.” I remembered how Eleanor would lean toward a man she was interested in. So I leaned toward Mr. Pritchard.
A movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. Henry was standing there, watching us with an unsmiling expression. In fact, his expression went beyond unsmiling. His jaw was set, his eyes like steel.
“You plan to go to India?” Mr. Pritchard surprised me by actually showing some expression on his face. “With whom?”
“With my aunt.”
“Just the two of you? Alone?”
I nodded.
He looked from me to the people who were watching and listening to us, then chuckled, as if it was all a great joke. They smiled in return. Miss St. Claire smiled, and so did Sylvia, and an older couple whose names I could not remember. My face was hot. I felt sure I was the cause of those smiles and that laugh, but I could not guess why. The nervous-looking Mr. Dyer smiled the broadest of them all. I did not look at Henry to see his reaction.
“Why is that amusing to you, sir?” I forgot to smile and lean toward him.
“Two reasons.” He held up his fingers and ticked them off one at a 85
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time. “Two single ladies. Going to India alone.” He shook his head. “I have never heard of anything more foolish in my life.” He shifted in his seat, as if dismissing me, and turned from me. But my pride would not let me lose.
“I do not think it foolish,” I said, loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. “I think it is adventurous.”
Mr. Pritchard turned back to me, with one eyebrow raised, and looked me over with disdain. He shifted again, but this time he leaned closer to me. Looking straight into my eyes, he said in a blunt voice, “India is no place for girls looking for adventure. It is a hostile country.
The journey alone has a good chance of killing you. And if you are not lost at sea, you will probably die of some disease once you are there.” His eyes drifted over my figure lazily. “You are not ugly. It would be better for you to get married and save the adventures for those suited to them.”
He stood, straightened his jacket, and walked away from me. My face burned. I did not dare look at anyone, but I felt their gazes. I felt Henry’s gaze, and I was so humiliated I did not think I would ever be able to meet it again. After sitting awkwardly for a long moment, I stood and walked away with as casual an air as I could force myself to adopt.
I did not know where to look or go. I only knew I had to leave the group that had witnessed my humiliation at the hands of Mr. Pritchard.
Crossing the room, I did not have a safe harbor in mind. But then, like a ray of sunshine, I saw the gaze of the elder Mr. Brandon. He was watching me from where he sat in a corner, far enough removed from the group that he could not have overheard my conversation.
Grasping my courage with desperate hands, I turned my steps to him.
I would try once more. Mr. Pritchard had been cruel, and the nervous Mr.
Dyer had clearly agreed with him. But Mr. Brandon was kind. I could see it in his eyes.
He stood as I approached, bowing to me, and offered with an out-stretched arm the chair next to his. I smiled with relief. I had not erred in my judgment here. He was a kind man.
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“Miss Worthington, you look rather flushed. Perhaps the fire was too warm for you?”
I pressed a hand to my hot cheek, thinking of how my face burned from embarrassment, not heat.
“Perhaps.” I thought bravely of my bargain with Mama and my escape to India and the example of Eleanor. I would try again. I had to try again. I could not give it all up because of one man’s rudeness. Sitting next to him, I smiled in the way Eleanor had smiled, and I leaned toward him, and I asked him to tell me about himself.
L
“I need to speak with you, Kitty.” Sylvia stood before me. Her gloved hands were clenched into fists, and a warning blazed from her cool blue eyes.
I had just left speaking with the elder Mr. Brandon for the past hour.
Acting like Eleanor had exhausted me, and the room was much too warm.
Seeking the coolness of the hall, I had walked toward the doors when Sylvia intercepted me.
“Of course,” I said, a little surprised by her demeanor.
I followed her out of the room, down the hall, and into the dining room, which had been cleaned after dinner and now sat empty. She closed the doors carefully behind us before whirling around to face me.
“How could you, Kitty?”
I fell back a step, startled. “How could I what?”
“How could you do this to me? After everything I have done for you?”
Her face was a splotchy red, and tears made her eyes glisten.
Completely dumbfounded, I shook my head. “What have I done to you?”
She stepped toward me, pointed a finger at my chest, and said with a sob, “You have just spent the past hour trying to steal Mr. Brandon from me! After I told you I liked him! After I showed you the . . . the quote 87