Free Kat, Incorrigible by Stephanie Burgis Page B

should be afraid of me.
    I lifted my chin and glared straight at Mr. Gregson as I took the footman’s hand and stepped out of the carriage as daintily as any duchess.
    Mr. Gregson’s lips curved into a smile.
    “My dearest Margaret,” Lady Graves cried. She swept across the drive to take Stepmama’s hands. “It’s been a positive age since I saw you last. How wonderful you look! Quite as young as ever. Sir John and I are so very pleased you could join our little house party.”
    She and Stepmama exchanged cooing cheek-kisses, and then she drew back to include the rest of us in her smile. It was meant to appear gracious, I supposed. I couldn’t focus on it, though, not with Mr. Gregson hovering in the background and smiling so much more ominously.
    “And these must be your charming stepdaughters,” said Lady Graves. “What lovely young ladies they all are.”
    “Mm,” Stepmama said, and coughed into her glove. “Ah, yes. Indeed they are. Rosemary, may I present my husband’s daughters to you? Miss Stephenson”—she nodded to Elissa, who smiled wanly—“Miss Angeline, and …” She gave me an admonitory glare. “Miss Katherine.”
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Gregson’s lips tighten as if he were holding back a laugh. Stepmama looked as if she’d just bitten into a sour apple. But she needn’t have worried this time. I curtsied as politely as the others and smiled up at Lady Graves as sweetly as if I were the most angelic young lady in existence.
    Stepmama’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, Katherine is too young to participate in the house party, but I hadn’t the heart to leave her behind.” Hadn’t trusted Papa to keep me in order , she meant. But I didn’t correct her as she continued, “Perhaps she can stay in the nursery quarter with your own children, Rosemary, and—”
    “Oh, no, my girls are in Scotland with my sister for the month, and the boys are off on a shooting party with their friends from Eton. You know how boys are. No, of course Miss Katherine mustn’t be locked away while everyone else enjoys themselves. I’m sure she’ll be no trouble, will you, child?”
    “No, ma’am,” I said in my meekest voice.
    She smiled and touched my hair lightly. “What a very daring haircut you’ve been given. Rather like one of the ladies I met in London this past season, Lady Ca—but no, perhaps I’d better save that particular story for your stepmama and older ears than yours.” She withdrew her hand, sliding a mischievous glance at Stepmama. “I must say, though, that style does suit you, for all its radicalism. Perhaps you’ll be a Society fashion-setter one day too. You may practice tonight in my drawing room.”
    “Kat will do very well on her own,” Stepmama said. “She—”
    “Nonsense.” Lady Graves stepped back, her smile quite as steely as any of Stepmama’s own. “It is very good of you to try to look after me, Margaret, but I have made my decision, and I really will not be dissuaded. I’m certain Miss Katherine will make a charming addition to our party. It is always helpful for young girls to have some experience in the public eye before they are thrown willy-nilly into their London debut, you know. Now.” She gestured toward the house. “Won’t you all come in and refresh yourselves? Your rooms are prepared and waiting for you.”
    “Thank you, Rosemary,” Stepmama murmured, in a tone of pure vinegar. “You are too kind.”
    It was the first time I’d ever seen Stepmama overruled by anybody. I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with hiding my reticule from Mr. Gregson’s keen gaze.
    He bowed politely as we started toward the door, and coughed. This time it was a polite, harmless cough, the kind you might cough if someone had stepped on your toe by accident and you wanted to alert them without seeming rude. It stopped Stepmama in her tracks, and she looked to Lady Graves with a questioning arch of her eyebrows.
    “Ah,