Grumbling, Kittie straightened her back to an uncomfortable stiffness as the maid helped get her into the gown she was meant to wear that evening. She was tired and had far more interesting things to do than attend a ball and try to make a match with some wealthy and obnoxious man.
Richard had been insistent that she could not miss the ball, telling her that she was expected to make an effort and look for a man who could truly appreciate her, someone who might be worthy of marrying one day.
But Kittie would have much preferred to stay home and read, indulging in a book or two and pretending that the rest of the world had no reason to bother her. She hated the expectations Richard placed on her and couldn’t understand why it was so important to him that she find a husband.
Kittie often thought about the family business and frequently wished that Richard would consider how she might be an asset. After all, she was clever, and she knew how to handle finances well. She was always careful not to spend too much when it was unneeded, and she gave him accounts whenever necessary.
She also had many ideas as to working with investors and she was certain that, once she understood Latin, she would be able to move on to other languages. If she could speak the languages of the countries in which they traded, she might be able to handle more accounts and letters for Richard.
Unfortunately, he would never value her in a role like that and she knew it. No matter how hard she might try and fight for respect, Richard would never see her as anything more than his sister to be married off as soon as possible.
“Are you all right, Lady Montague?” the maid asked.
“Oh, yes, I am sorry. I simply hate getting dressed for these events. I know it must sound foolish to you. What woman would not wish to dress up and go be entertained by gentlemen who vie for her affection? It would seem that I am as broken as my brother thinks I am,” she muttered.
“You are not broken, Lady Montague. You simply have different interests than your brother would like,” the maid said sweetly.
Kittie nodded, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. But Richard didn’t think that way. He thought there was something wrong with her since she wasn’t more like Jane.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry or that she had no interest in society. The fact was, she simply preferred the part of society that allowed a woman to have an intellect and she much rather enjoyed conversing with men about their studies than their preferences in finding a wife.
Before long, Kittie and Richard made their way into town and to the ball, with the ride in the coach rather silent between the two of them. As they arrived and walked into the grand house before them, Richard gave Kittie the same lecture he so often did.
“Be sure to show your best side only. Do not complain about the event and do not complain about stitching. Discuss things of interest to the older women so that they might insist their sons dance with you,” he said, leaning towards her so that she was the only one to hear his words and she grinned placidly at the other guests she passed.
“I know all of this, Richard. Have you not seen how hard I try to present myself the way you wish? I remain silent about nearly everything I think and feel,” she said, rather grimly.
“Please, Kittie, just go and do what you are meant to,” he said.
She grimaced and made her way into the party, looking for Jane. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find her and wondered whether or not Jane had been unable to attend, after all. It would be a terribly dull evening if her dearest friend was not there.
Kittie meandered throughout one of the smaller rooms and saw Lucy Ellis at the pianoforte, entertaining a group of young men. Her blonde curls bounced as she played, and she let out the occasional girlish laugh as she tapped out a jaunty tune.
Aware she would never be that sort of woman, Kittie eyed her with a strange sort of envy. It was not envy that she could not play so well or that Lucy had the attention of all those admirers. It was not jealousy over her beauty either.
Rather, Kittie coveted Lucy’s contentment. It seemed so strange to be happy in this stale little life. Enjoying nothing more than the attention of men who liked her for only her appearance and willingness to conform to whatever society demanded, it was a sad way to live. Kittie imagined it was rather dull and she didn’t want to ever suffer that sort of smallness.
Nevertheless, she knew she could fight for an eternity and never have the same happiness that Lucy had.
“Lady Montague, there you are! Oh, I had sincerely hoped I might find your cousin. Is she here by any means?” Lord Glenn asked, drawing near to Kittie with eager eyes.
“I fear I have not seen her yet,” Kittie said. “It would appear that she is running late.”
“Ah, very well. I am sad to hear that. Perhaps I shall find her later. Will you please be sure to tell her to come and find me if you see her?” he asked.
“I will,” Kittie promised, although she hoped that Jane would be clever enough to stay away from him.
She watched him go and find another young lady, with whom he immediately began to flirt, sharing little compliments and making the young lady laugh. Kittie realised she was different from these other girls. She did not garner the same sort of attention and it made for a terribly dull evening. Wishing she had been allowed to stay home, Kittie decided to find a way to make herself comfortable regardless of what Richard demanded of her.
She slipped through the halls, greeting anyone she knew and saying a friendly hello. No one asked her for a dance, much to her relief, and she was able to pretend as though she was not even there. Richard would have been furious, but Kittie didn’t see how he could know whether or not she was obeying his demands. When she glanced into the ballroom, she saw him dancing with Lady Prince.
He gazed at Lady Prince with interest and the young woman, just a few years older than Kittie, looked at him as though he were the only man in the world. Kittie hoped that Richard would find a wife soon so that he would give her and Henry a bit more freedom to enjoy their own lives. It didn’t seem reasonable to hope for, but she couldn’t stop herself.
She continued wandering through the house until she found a room very close to the maids’ quarters. It was dark but as she slipped inside, she fumbled around until she found an oil lamp.
Kittie lit the lamp and saw that the room was precisely what she had hoped for. There was a large, leather chair that looked incredibly comfortable and she made her way over to it, sitting down and sighing in relief. She opened her small purse and pulled out the miniature book of poetry that she had brought with her.
Ever since Kittie had begun trying to teach herself Latin, she had spent the past few months working her way through this small book. She still understood only a small portion of the pages, but it was more than she had known previously, so she considered it progress. It was important to her that she become an expert and she was beginning to realise that her efforts were not wasted.
She indulged in the book, settling in and enjoying the quiet of the room. She could still hear the noise of the people outside, the sound of the pianoforte floating from the other side of the house and the orchestra in the ballroom coming from the other. The leather smell of the chair mingled with the remnants of cigar smoke and she realised that this must be one of the rooms the man of the house frequented.
Nevertheless, for the moment, she had it all to herself. Kittie was thrilled to sit there, trying to make sense of the words on the page in front of her.
“Ad astera…” she read. Suddenly, the door opened behind her and Kittie gasped, jumping up from the chair.
“Katherine!” Richard hissed, angrily. He kept his voice down, clearly trying to avoid being heard by the people outside the room and down the hall. The look on his face was fierce and Kittie knew she was in grave trouble, that Richard was unlikely to forget about this indiscretion any time soon.
“R-Richard. I am sorry, I just needed to—”
“Enough,” he said, entering the room and closing the door behind himself. “This has gone on far too long. You are supposed to be out there, trying to find a husband. And instead, I find you cooped up in here with a book? What has gotten into you? Do you not realise how important it is that you find a husband soon? I cannot believe you would shame me like this, that you would disregard everything that I am trying to build for our family.”
“I just wanted a moment to myself,” Kittie said, looking at him with worry in her eyes. She silently prayed he would show her compassion.
But it was clear that he was too angry for that.
“Enough. I am sending you home. Better you shame me there than here,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the door.
Although she was glad to be leaving, Kittie knew this wasn’t over. Her brother would hold onto this anger for a while and, once he got home later, Kittie would have no choice but to accept whatever consequences he leveraged against her.