She gathered her wits. “Oh good Lord,” she sniffed. “Don’t be nonsensical, Max. It must have had some sort of rot around the roots.”
“I know a few people of whom I could say the same,” he answered.
She looked at him then, really looked at him, his lips curved into a wry smile, humor alight in his gaze. This was the man who had touched her so intimately, had given her pleasure like nothing she could have imagined, and yet here he was, so nonchalant, as if he’d just uttered a bon mot in front of a roomful of dowagers.
“You amaze me,” she murmured.
“You must tell me why,” he grinned, taking her arm and putting it through his own. “In great detail, of course. Don’t leave out a thing.”
“We must go back,” she sighed.
“I know.” He walked her away from the deforestation. “But make no mistake, Kitty. This is a beginning, not an end. Not for us.”
She detected a note of iron in his tone and wondered at it. But the music grew in volume and the sounds of the world insinuated themselves back into her consciousness as they approached the ballroom. There was no chance for her to think, to consider her next words.
So she merely nodded. Once.
It was suddenly the most important thing in the world for her to believe in what he said.
Chapter Six
The masquerade had intensified during their absence, and Max barely managed to restrain a wince at the noise level which battered their eardrums as they returned.
It would seem the libations offered to the guests had begun to take effect, since the waltz that now played was being enjoyed with less than studied appreciation.
In fact, it bore all the markings of turning into a romp.
He felt Kitty’s hand tighten on his arm, and he glanced down at her. “Too much, do you think?”
She shot him a grateful glance. “A little, yes.” Her eyes returned to the dancers. “But I can’t see Hecate. I should find her and see if she’s ready to leave.”
“Who is with you this evening?”
“Me? I came with the Standishes. Hecate was with the Bassets.”
“Aha.” Max nodded to his left. “Well, I see Lady Bassett over there. Her propensity for large feathers can be most annoying, but at this moment I find myself somewhat grateful.”
He managed to get both himself and Kitty across the ballroom without incident, which was quite a feat of physical dexterity.
Kitty blinked as she shook her skirts. “Whew. I had no idea the waltz could be so energetic. My gown was stepped on at least three times.” She walked to Lady Basset. “Good evening, my Lady. I’m wondering if you might know where I would find Hecate?”
The older woman nodded, her massive feather making a few candles waver in the sconce a yard or so behind her. “She and Eugenia were dancing, dear. Most suitable partners, I might add.” Lady Bassett looked coy. “Their maid is ready to attend them and accompany them home when they’re finished here.”
Kitty looked at her. “You mean you’re going to leave early?”
“Well, dear,” she glanced slyly at Max. “Not all of us are lucky to have such a desirable dance partner…”
“Good evening, Lady Bassett.”
He bowed over the older woman’s hand, making Kitty jump. She hadn’t realized he was so close behind her.
“Had I known you required a partner, I would of course have made sure to add my name to your dance card.”
“Oh, you silly boy,” replied Lady Bassett with an arch smirk. “Why all of London is talking about the…the…close friendship that has developed between you and Kitty here…”
Already rather emotionally ruffled, Kitty was not best prepared to deal with such an obvious innuendo. “My Lady, I have to say—you didn’t just jump to a conclusion, you cleared four hedges, a fence and a small brook to do so. Without a horse.”
Lady Bassett’s eyes flashed and suddenly there were more than a few guests gathered around. The scent of battle seemed to set curious noses twitching and attract those who would see blood spilled. Metaphorically speaking.
“Well.” Lady Bassett harrumphed. “Obviously it’s no secret then. You are engaged in an inappropriate…what can I call it?”
“Affair?” prompted Max.
“Don’t make it worse,” said Kitty through gritted teeth.
“How sordid.” The older woman drew herself up, feather a-tremble, with a distinct aroma of sherry emanating along with her words. “You should be ashamed to be in such company, Mr. Seton-Mowbray. And as for you, Miss Ridlington, I shall surely see to it that my gels no longer associate with the likes of you.” She turned to Max. “I suppose it is quite delightful for you to have a Ridlington as your mistress. At least she has a title. Of sorts.”
Kitty sucked in a breath, and Max could see the fury shimmering over her like a veil.
“You are way beyond yourself, Lady Bassett,” she spat. “Your opinions are of no matter, your manners appalling, and I doubt your gels as you call them will thank you for this display.”
“Go on, my dear. Give it to her.” Max folded his arms with a grin.
“It doesn’t bother you?” She flashed him a quick look.
“Not at all. Why should it?”
“Very well.” She lifted that determined chin and stared at Lady Bassett. “Your daughters will doubtless find themselves some sort of acceptable husband. However, my choices in life are dictated by my desires, not my fortune. Should I become anyone’s mistress, it will be because I choose to do so, regardless of how such an act is viewed by the narrow minded and pompous chuckleheads you represent.”
Lady Bassett gasped, as did several of the onlookers. Who, Max noted, drew nearer so as not to miss a word.
He judged it was time to intervene.
“In fact, Lady Bassett, if I may be permitted to add my mite to this—er—conversation, Miss Ridlington has not yet decided whether to become my mistress.” He smiled as the most outrageous idea flashed into his brain.
Kitty was staring at him, her expression blank. Then she noticed his smile. And, to his utter amazement, she gave him the tiniest nod.
He took a leap of faith. “She will be making the decision shortly, based on the turn of a card.” He glanced around. “Gentlemen, if you would care to place a wager on the outcome, we will be in the card room within the hour.”
The music had stopped, and for a full five seconds, there was dead silence. Then the gentlemen faded away, their footsteps revealing the stampede to the card room, while the ladies fanned themselves and the soft chatter of shocked gossip began.
Kitty turned to Max. “The turn of a card?”
“You wanted to be the shocking Miss Ridlington, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…” she swallowed, “I wasn’t expecting it quite so soon.”