Free Kitty by MC Beaton

beginning, my child?” he said in a kindly voice. “Things are sometimes easier that way.”
    So, in a faltering voice, Kitty began to tell him her story from the beginning, her voice gradually becoming stronger and more confident under his sympathetic attention.
    She began to falter again as she described the horror of her wedding night. “My lord Bishop, I had never seen—a—a naked man before. And then he laughed at my picture.”
    “What picture, my child?” asked the Bishop in a muffled voice. Kitty tried to read his expression but his hand was in front of his face and his head was bowed.
    “Oh, it’s a darling picture. I bought it myself in Hampstead in this little shop next to Carson’s bakery. There are these two children running across a meadow with their dog and there’s a dear little thatched cottage in the distance and—”
    Kitty stopped in surprise. Tears were running down the Bishop’s dusky cheeks. He was moved by her story!
    Then in the glow from the lamp, she noticed that each salt tear was cutting a clean white line down his face, and he was laughing. Oh, God! He was laughing as if he would never stop. The harsh mocking sound reverberated around the room. There were more sounds of laughter. Then a roar of “Surprise!” as the lights were switched on and the rest of the guests burst out from behind screens in the corners of the room.
    “Oh, Cyril, you were magnificent,” they screamed to “the Bishop” who was still laughing and mopping the dark stain from his face with his handkerchief.
    It had all been another terrible practical joke.
    “What on earth is going on?” demanded an imperious voice from the doorway. One of the most elegant women Kitty had ever seen stood surveying the room with cold contempt. Pastel-colored tulle that could only have come from Paris, swirled about her body in elegant lines. Her hat balanced of top of her golden curls was a frothy confection of the same tulle. She had small eyes and a large patrician nose which seemed to emphasize her general air of
chic
rather than detract from it.
    Without waiting for a reply to her question, she walked straight up to Kitty and held out her hand encased in a pink kid glove. “I’ve come especially to meet you, Lady Chesworth,” she said in a light, pleasant voice. “May I introduce myself since no one else seems able to? I’m Emily Mainwaring.”
    Kitty had heard of Lady Mainwaring through the medium of the gossip columns. King Edward himself had called her the smartest woman in London.
    “I have called to invite you to take a drive with me,” she went on.
    Kitty nodded her assent. She would have gone for a drive with Lucifer himself in order to get out of that dreadful room and away from Veronica Jackson’s mocking stare.
    Outside, the summer sun was once again shining merrily.
    Once in her open carriage, Lady Mainwaring tied a carriage veil over her hat and called to the coachman to “spring ’em.”
    Kitty thought that nothing else could surprise her that horrid day. But she was wrong. As the carriage bowled past the lodge gates at a fast clip, Lady Mainwaring said, “I’m kidnaping you, you know.”
    Kitty gasped and clutched at the side of the swaying vehicle. Lady Mainwaring laughed. “I’ve got the best intentions,” she shouted above the noise of the rushing wind made by the speed of the carriage. “We’re stopping for lunch at the nearest inn and I’ll tell you all about it.”
    Kitty sat in silence watching the summer scenery flashing past. The hot sun was drying up the puddles in the road and sparkling raindrops hung from the wild roses on the hedgerows. She decided she didn’t care if she were being kidnaped. She never wanted to return to Rooks Neuk again.
    The horses slowed to a canter, then a trot, and turned into the pleasant courtyard of an old coaching inn.
    “We didn’t need to go as fast as that,” explained Emily Mainwaring blithely. “I just like a touch of the dramatic now and