“Of course,” said the older man, his eyes on Kitty’s bodice. “Lovely gel, quite lovely.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kitty dropped another curtsey, squeezing Max’s hand.
And so it was that the newlywed Seton-Mowbrays breezed into the Ton, heads high, looking for all the world as if it was the most normal thing imaginable. Max knew there would be comments in the morning papers—Grace would be thrilled, of course, devouring each and every word—and within half an hour gossip would be all over London this very night.
Max Seton-Mowbray had married his mistress, the scandalous Kitty Ridlington, within days of their very public wager and consequent arrangement.
He caught a few frowns and raised eyebrows as he and Kitty reached the ballroom floor, but since the orchestra chose that moment to strike up a waltz, he was certain that by the end of it, smiles would replace those shocked looks. After all, nobody wanted to appear critical of Lady Chorley’s guests by giving them the cut direct.
“Dance with me.” He pulled Kitty into the measures of the waltz, easily guiding her first uncertain moves. “You waltz, I know,” he said, looking down at her pale face.
“I do, yes,” she glanced at him. “But this is quite different, and you know it. I feel as if I have steel daggers drilling holes through my spine.”
“As do I.” He grinned. “Isn’t it fun?”
She laughed then, a bright sound that drew a few gazes. He’d hoped for that reaction and seeing her smile at him, whirling her in his arms to the delightful music…well, he was just about as happy as he’d ever been. Which was shocking, since he prided himself on his emotional restraint. It would seem his wife had ripped all that away.
“Why are you looking like that?” She pinched his thumb. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so. I’ve just discovered that I’m enjoying myself.”
Kitty shook her head. “I have married a strange man, it would seem.”
“Indeed.”
They were quiet for a while, both in perfect step, her height a match for his. The waltz was made for those who could easily lead and follow, a sinuous and flowing series of moves that took two people and joined them together for a few blissful moments.
“I want you,” said Max.
“Oh.” Kitty looked around. “Here? There may well be a quiet corner…or a conservatory perhaps?” Her lips twitched. “We broke a tree once, we could demolish an aspidistra or two, I’m sure…”
He squeezed her waist. “You will pay for that, my dear. Wait until we get home.”
Her eyes lowered. “Yes, Master,” she whispered. Then she glanced up, all naughtiness and delight.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I shall forget the reason we’re here and strip you naked right in the middle of Lady Chorley’s ballroom.”
She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. “You probably would, too. So let’s to business, shall we? I think we’ll be the topic of more than enough gossip tomorrow without adding naked frolics into the mix.”
“Right.” Max looked around them. “Weston. Lady Dorothea Weston. Yellow hair, I believe. A bosom bow of Matilda Cornwell’s, and God knows that woman is everywhere. Aha.” He nodded. “Yes, there she is. I’ve found Matilda. Let’s start with her.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Ahh, my dear Matilda. As lovely as ever. You put the Incomparables to shame, as always.”
Mrs. Cornwell was everything Kitty expected from a notorious gossip. Pleasingly plump and well into middle age, she had launched three daughters successfully, and was now enjoying the chance to meddle in everyone else’s lives. And she was blushing like a debutante as Max elegantly saluted her hand.
“Why you charming devil, Max Seton-Mowbray. Now why was I not the first to hear of your marriage? So sudden too?”
Kitty wasn’t surprised to intercept a sharp glance directed at her midsection. After all, an unexpected wedding was often preceded by the news of an impending birth. Instinctively, she stood straighter, knowing the lines of her gown would betray her slim waist and total lack of any kind of upcoming happy event.
“When the heart is involved, dear Matilda, the results are often rapid and impetuous.” Max reached out for Kitty’s hand and drew her to his side. “Once seen, is she not unforgettable? Once kissed…well, she could not remain unwed.”
“Ohhh,” sighed Mrs. Cornwell, as did several other women leaning toward the little group in order to catch some of the conversation. “A true romance. How wonderful.”
“Indeed, Ma’am,” smiled Kitty. “Max swept me off my feet.” She moved a little closer to Matilda’s ear. “And I can’t wait for him to sweep me out of my slippers.”
Matilda’s gaze raked Max from head to foot. “Mmm. I can see why.”
Max cleared his throat. “I must ask…have you seen Lady Weston this evening? We’d like to offer her our sympathies on the loss of our mutual friend, Dancey Miller-James. Such a tragedy.”
Matilda looked suitably downcast. “Wasn’t it, though? So young to be cut down like that in his prime.” She frowned slightly, turning to Kitty. “Wasn’t it your sister who was with him in the coach? Such a sweet and charming gel…”
Kitty nodded. “It was, Ma’am. We have yet to learn the details of that sad evening. Hecate sustained some serious injuries to her leg, but I’m happy to say she is slowly recovering at home in Ridlington Chase. We’re not sure if she will remember what happened though.”
Matilda tsked her teeth and looked sad. “Do wish her well next time you see her.” She paused. “I suppose you’ll be visiting your brother the Baron, soon? He wasn’t at the wedding?”
Fully anticipating the prying questions, Kitty gave a serene smile. “Sadly, no, it was a most informal affair. But we were happy to have the company of Mrs. Grace Chaney, my husband’s sister, and Sir Peregrine Hawkesbury. They kindly supported us during the ceremony.” She slipped her arm through Max’s as he stood listening. “My family has known Max for some little time. And they know me, of course.” She managed a small, embarrassed smile. “Thus this marriage will come as no surprise to them, given Max’s affections and my impetuous nature.”
“Delightful, my dears.” She eagerly devoured Kitty’s words and doubtless would regurgitate them, with suitable embellishments, for quite some time to come. “Now, dear Dorothea was headed toward the dining room earlier, I believe. If you were wanting to speak with her, you might try there?”
They made the appropriate farewells and moved away, Kitty blowing a breath quietly through her lips.
“Agreed,” said Max. “She has a good heart, unlike some of her cronies, but yes, we’ll be the romantic wedding of the year by the time she’s done with us.”
“Do you mind?”
Max snorted. “I couldn’t care less about such things, Kitty. You know that.”
“Yes, I do. And it means nothing to me either.” She looked around at a room filled with people she didn’t know. “But one thing, Max, we should go to Ridlington soon. I don’t want my family thinking I’ve shut them out of my life…” She glanced up at him.