Free Gilt by Katherine Longshore Page B

hoarse with awe. “New gowns?”
    And even I heard the unasked question:
For us?
    “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Cat said, stepping into the room and whirling in a dizzy spin. “Can you believe the dried-up old bat finally broke down and got me something nice?”
    “It must have cost a fortune,” Joan breathed, but disappointment washed her face.
    “And it’s all for me!” Cat grinned. “Not a hand-me-down. Not something cut from someone else’s leftovers. Mine. Made especially to fit me.”
    I couldn’t quench a spark of envy. Cat and I had always been the same. The same age. Both unwanted daughters. Both wearing castoff clothing. And suddenly she was away at court, meeting new people, wearing new gowns. I was beneath her, just like Mary Lascelles said. A sickly petulance overtook me.
    “Jesus, Cat,” I muttered. “How many times can you put
me
and
mine
into one breath?”
    Joan squeaked. Cat fixed me with a glare like a rapier thrust. I felt it pierce me. My envy mingled with anger and shame. I wanted to take back what I had said. I wanted to say more.
    She approached me with a swagger like a lioness ready to pounce.
    “I am the face of Norfolk House at court. The duchess can’t have anyone believe her house or her family is shabby. I represent the entire Howard family. I
need
new clothes. Do you deny me that?”
    “Of course not,” I said. “No one is happier than I am that you’re finally getting all you deserve. Beautiful clothes. Jewelry. A man you love.”
    She stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Then snapped, “Get out,” over her shoulder, and Joan and Alice disappeared as quickly as dandelion fluff on the wind.
    “Who told you?” she asked, her voice more deadly than ever. “No one knows.”
    “Francis,” I whispered, my voice a paroxysm of nerves.
    “Francis
Dereham?
” she asked.
    “Yes,” I said. “He saw you at court. Then he came here to get his old job back. I spoke with him.”
    “
Francis?
” she repeated, and her eyes opened wide, radiating surprise, or possibly fear. “He’s here?”
    “No, the duchess sent him to Horsham,” I said, confused and shaken. “He said you were in love. That you sent him away.”
    “I told
no one
.” Her voice rose to a shout. “What did he say about me?”
    “He said you loved a man named Thomas Culpepper,” I said.
    Cat began to giggle. The giggles came in little puffs at first. Then in a surge, like bubbles from the bottom of a pond. And suddenly, she was giggling so high and so hard that she couldn’t catch her breath and had to bend over, hands on her knees, eyes streaming.
    This wasn’t the Cat I knew. The Cat who whispered dreams in my ear at night. The Cat who sneaked around Norfolk House, kissing and canoodling with Francis in the chapel. This Cat jumped from one extreme to another. This Cat didn’t like me. This Cat was frightening.
    “Cul-Cul-Culpepper?” she gasped.
    “That’s what he said!”
    “Silly Kitty.” She took a stinging swipe at my cheek.“Culpepper is in the past. Culpepper is no one. He was just a . . . nothing.” Her eyes unfocused a little, “Though so
seductive
.”
    She shook her head as if to clear it.
    “No, Kitty, I have a better catch now. I have everything I want right here.”
    She opened her tiny hand and showed me her empty palm. Then she snapped her fingers shut like a coffer.
    “It’s all I’ll ever want, Kitty,” she said. “It’s all I’ll ever need.”

C AT STAYED, THE EPICENTER OF A WHIRLWIND OF FABRICS AND FITTINGS , ribbons and pearls. She and I reached a truce that hinged on us both keeping silent regarding Francis, Culpepper, and her mysterious new man. And William. I wasn’t ready to share my unblemished feelings for him. And I wasn’t sure she would approve. We’d never had secrets from each other before, and it felt odd and strained. The awkward tension made me mute on all but the most mundane subjects.
    Fortunately, the duchess embarked on a campaign of cleanliness