Free Danse de la Folie by Sherwood Smith

some gentlemen who is highly romantic, and ever so handsome, and rich
enough to help Carlisle out of his straits, who would see me across the
ballroom floor, and love would instantly dart into his heart. And mine, too, of
course.”
    She looked up at Clarissa, appeal in her gaze.
    “A romantical vision, and I hope it comes to pass,” Clarissa
said, shifting uncomfortably on the chilly floor. “What is in the third trunk?”
    “Three velvet riding habits, a couple of redingotes, shoes
with great paste buckles, and accoutrements like lace caps, and sashes, fans
and the like. The preposterous headdresses and so forth are up in the attic
still.” Kitty’s excitement dimmed a little, and she cocked her head to one
side. “What is amiss? Are they none of them suitable?”
    “Are there any other day dresses aside from this white
gauze?”
    “I have been using them these seven or eight years. So Mama’s
things are hopeless, then?”
    “The gauze could be turned. I suppose. Though I do not see
how, as its neck is so wide and the waist so low. The remainder... The ones
closer to the modes of today are the materials customarily worn by married
ladies.”
    “That I learned to my cost once,” Kitty said grimly, and
turned her face away as she busied herself with weighing the old finery back in
the trunks.
    Clarissa took a deep breath, wanting somehow to help this
generous, kind-hearted, romantical girl. “I think... Yes. I do believe I have a
way to resolve the difficulty.”
    Kitty’s head turned, as she hastily daubed at the revealing
tears on her eyelids. “What? How?”
    Clarissa betrayed a blush as she gazed upward. Then her lips
pressed as though she wish to hide a smile. “You shall see, I promise. Soon.”
    Kitty clasped her hands. “You would not be playing a trick
on me?”
    “Never.” Clarissa shook her head emphatically.
    “Oh, thank you. How kind you are. Not only for myself, as of
course I shall enjoy myself beyond anything, but in London, I might be able to
help Carl. I am determined that I shall find and marry a rich man. London must
be full of them , however few dukes
there may be, for I must not be thinking solely of myself. If he is rich, nothing
else matters, save that he is not cruel.”
    Clarissa, thinking of Lord Wilburfolde, reflected that there
was a vast range of possibilities betwixt handsome and cruel. Ordinary men
without the villainous proclivities of a Count Scorbini could be just as vexing
in a thousand small ways from which there might be little escape.
    o0o
    At the end of that evening, Clarissa could see the tiredness
and preoccupation in her hosts’ faces, though they strove for politeness. Being
conscientious, she rose far earlier than she might have, and professed herself
ready to retire.
    Edward promptly rose with her, yawning behind his hand. “Lord!
I trust you will forgive me, Miss Harlowe, but I am asleep on my feet. We were
up and riding long before the sun chose to rouse itself. Here, I will light the
way for you.”
    He picked up a waiting branch of candles and led the way
out.
    Kitty was not tired, either, but she had a great deal to
think about. She could see it her elder brother’s countenance that he wished to
talk to her. “Are you going upstairs, Kit?”
    “Not immediately.”
    “I had hoped to find a chance to talk to you.”
    She puckered her brow. “Oh, Carl, I do hope and trust that you are not going to tell me I cannot go, for
some horrid reason.”
    St. Tarval did not speak immediately. Kitty’s consternation
altered to surprise as her brother took a turn about the room, then stopped at
the fireplace to stare down into the flames. His profile was pensive as he
said, “I take it, then, you wish to accompany Miss Harlowe to London?”
    “Above anything.”
    He remained silent for a time, his long fingers so much like
Papa’s absently toying with the fire tongs. Seeing his profile bent so seriously,
his gaze distant from the employment of his hands, Kitty