Free Lord Devere's Ward by Sue Swift

by turns. And Shakespeare thought women were flighty and frail, Kate thought. Old Billy had it all wrong. Men were the inconstant, flighty gender.

    * * *

    Quinn had a fit of the dismals, an increasingly frequent occurrence since he’d met Kate Scoville. He glanced over at her as he reined his horses in at the Bruton Street house. The brim of that blasted hat concealed her expression.
    Running into Bertha Staveley had been a piece of bad luck. He’d shared Staveley’s bed on a couple of occasions, and the lively young widow made it clear that she’d welcome him back. But since he’d met Kate, he’d lost interest, without making any effort to smooth the fiery redhead’s ruffled temper. He supposed he’d best call upon Lady Bertha. Yes, that was the ticket. Or p’raps he’d send ’round some flowers.
    And why had he taken Kate to Hyde Park at five in the afternoon? What had he been thinking? Nan had been right. They’d drawn more attention than a Bedlamite at Almack’s.
    Damn and blast. He’d taken Kate for a drive because he’d wanted to share her company, and for no other reason. He’d wanted to court her, like any other man…like any man other than her guardian.
    He ground his teeth. It couldn’t happen again.

Chapter Five
    The next day was marked by a visit to Anna’s fashionable modiste, Madame Mirielle. Louisa was measured for court-dress as well as for any number of ball gowns and evening dresses. Kate ordered two gowns in the lightest silk georgette for her few evening excursions, as well as day dresses in a more fashionable cut than her purchases made in Sevenoaks. She did not know for what precise events she would wear the frothy creations, gathered under the breasts and festooned with lace flounces and velvet trim, but Anna assured Kate she would rarely be at home alone.
    The first several evenings were spent with the entire family writing and addressing hundreds of invitations to the formal ball which would present Louisa to Polite Society. Kate threw herself into the preparations with vigor, finding her training from Miss Elizabeth’s School most useful.
    But Pauline grumbled and groused. “The Honorable Louisa Anna Michaela Penrose! Lou, why do you have to have so many names?” She stretched her fingers.

    “You have as many names as I do,” Louisa said.
    “You’re the Honorable Paulina Tyndale Devere Penrose. What a mouthful!”
    “This isn’t fair,” whined Pauline. “Cousin Kay and I shouldn’t have to help Louisa with her come-out. She won’t be around to help with ours.”
    “Why, where am I going?” Louisa appeared genuinely astonished.
    “Hopefully, daughter, you will be married and in your husband’s home, having his babies when your sister is presented,” said her father.
    “Gracious! You make it sound as though I’m to be transported. Any husband I have will be a part of this family, just as I will be a part of his. I’m not going anywhere, Pauline.” Louisa poked her sister’s shoulder with the stem of her pen. “Besides, I thought you did not care for the thought of a Season and marriage.”
    Kate saw Pauline wince as her parents raised their eyebrows simultaneously.
    “Whatever could you be thinking, Pauline?” inquired her mother. “Pauline?”
    Pauline laid down her pen. “It simply sounds so fearfully inevitable. I feel like Penelope waiting for Odysseus. Except I don’t know who Odysseus is.”
    “That’s the excitement,” said Louisa. She glanced at Kate. “For myself, I can scarce wait until I fall in love.”
    Kate flushed. She had an odd feeling Louisa saw more than was discussed. “Just make sure you don’t fall for the wrong person.”

    “I don’t see how that can happen,” Louisa said.
    She winked slyly at her father. “I know my parents take very great care that I never meet ‘wrong persons.’“
    “That is no exaggeration,” said Pen. “I prefer that you do not even speak to the stable boys, advice I wish Pauline would