Page 28 of A Lady's Guide to Scandal

‘Why, you must be the greenest girls in all of London,’ Mr Sinclair declared. He observed Miss Talbot for a moment under his heavy brows, before deciding to find this charming.

‘There is no need to be the slightest bit nervous,’ he reassured her, gesturing to the room. ‘Why, this is the friendliest collection of people in the whole city! You can trust us to look after you.’

Mr Sinclair’s self-appointed trustworthiness did not prevent him – once the first course was cleared away and they both turned to their other seating partner – from passing the news of the Talbot sisters’ unusual upbringing straight on to Lady Salisbury, who at the earliest convenience passed it on, too. Murmurs of interest greeted the news and by the time the second course (larger still than the first, with a goose, lobster and guinea fowl amongst the plates) had concluded, the Talbots were looked upon as something of a novelty. The hauteur began to lessen. The assembled lords, ladies and the ton began to wonder if Lady Radcliffe was not a most discerning host for having discovered such charming oddities as these young ladies. Glancing across the table, Kitty caught Aunt Dorothy’s eye and they shared a small smile of relief. Glancing down, she was pleasantly surprised to see Cecily on lively form. She seemed to be giving the young Lord Montagu a long education in Sapphic philosophy, greatly enjoying herself – as people so often do, when allowed to speak at length about their own intellect. Kitty inwardly thanked the manners of the young man in continuing his attention when he must surely be terribly bored.

The ton were not so different from normal people, and Kitty was able to observe now that she did not feel quite so under siege. Yes, they spoke in voices like cut glass, and yes, they took politeness to ritualistic levels, and the jargon was, admittedly, utterly incomprehensible – all about Eton and governesses and London, nicknames for lords and ladies you should know, but that you must not use unless you knew them too. But they ate, like everyone else, and gossiped like fiends – though it was dressed up in ribbons and bows of concern and sympathy to make it more polite.

‘Ghastly news about the Egerton boy, isn’t it?’ Mrs Burrell was saying in an undertone that nevertheless carried around the whole table.

‘What happened?’ Mrs Sinclair asked, her face concerned, her eyes bright.

‘Lost an absolute fortune at cards, the wretched creature, the whole family is up in arms,’ Lady Montagu said, shaking her head sadly. ‘They’ve had to sell a hundred acres of land to pay for it.’

‘And it couldn’t have happened to a better family.’ Lady Radcliffe looked a little ill at the news. ‘He was at Waterloo, wasn’t he, Radcliffe?’

As soon as the words escaped her lips, Lady Radcliffe appeared to regret them. The whole party quieted immediately, staring at Lord Radcliffe, who gave only a vague murmur in response. When it was clear he was not going to indulge them with a story, Lady Salisbury made the plunge.

‘My Lord Radcliffe,’ she called across to him. ‘You must tell us of Waterloo. We are dying to hear your account of it.’

‘Radcliffe is rather bored by talking about the war now,’ his mother interjected quickly.

‘Oh, I’m sure he can indulge us, this once,’ Lady Salisbury insisted. ‘Can’t you, Radcliffe? If we ask nicely?’

‘What would you like to know, my lady?’ Radcliffe said coolly.

‘What was it like?’ She leant forward eagerly.

‘Awful,’ he said, swilling his glass of wine in one hand. His voice was casual, but Miss Talbot fancied she could hear a warning within it – and by the tense look on both Lady Radcliffe and Captain Hinsley’s faces, they could too – but Lady Salisbury continued on, quite undaunted.

‘It must have been quite the sight,’ she said rapturously. ‘All the regiments lining up together, the horses, the red coats, the—’

‘Death?’ Radcliffe supplied, smiling grimly. ‘For I confess it is the death I remember most from that day, not the red coats.’

Lady Radcliffe stood abruptly from her chair. ‘Shall we retire for tea, ladies?’ she sang cheerily, and Kitty abandoned her blancmange with some sadness.

The warm regard with which the Misses Talbot and Mrs Kendall were treated over tea was at utter odds with the earlier chilly reserve of these same ladies. Only Mrs Burrell seemed unmoved by the explanation of their very protective father, while Lady Montagu and Mrs Sinclair – never to be behind on a trend – had decided the Talbot sisters were ‘the prettiest behaved creatures’ they had ever met. Kitty, for her part, leant more deeply into her character, begging for the ladies’ advice on navigating London’s social waters. Accustomed as these ladies were to young women desiring to appear accomplished and worldly in their presence, they were refreshed and flattered by so frank an acknowledgement of their lofty societal position. By the time the gentlemen joined them, Kitty had been promised invitations to three balls, all in the next month.

‘I think we can count that as a success, can’t we?’ Kitty whispered to Aunt Dorothy on the carriage ride home.

‘Yes.’ Aunt Dorothy was looking thoughtful. ‘Yes, against all the odds, I think we can.’

She turned to look at her niece, and Kitty wondered if she was going to deliver yet another lecture about the unsuitability, the riskiness, of Kitty’s strategy. But her aunt surprised her once again.

‘I still think you are quite mad,’ she warned her. ‘And I still find your relentless perseverance fatiguing. But I must admit, tonight was rather … thrilling.’ She paused. ‘All this to say: I’m in, my dear. I shall help you, however I can.’

‘Who do you want to marry now?’ Cecily interrupted, quite confused. ‘It isn’t Lord Montagu, is it? The interesting young man I was seated next to at dinner.’

Kitty raised her eyes to the heavens.

‘Cecily, I am not so ridiculous to aim at a titled gentleman, especially not one from such a powerful family – do give me some credit.’

‘Oh, good,’ Cecily said vaguely, her attention fading once more. Content to let the rest of the journey pass in silence, Kitty closed her eyes and let her head fall back upon the seat.

Across town, Radcliffe was walking home – St James’s Place being only a short stroll from Grosvenor Square – feeling similarly relieved. Miss Talbot had admittedly played her part very well – he was almost embarrassed on behalf of his set for how easily they had fallen for her wiles in the end.

Almost embarrassed, but not quite. After the grilling Lady Salisbury had given him on Waterloo, he was now very willing to leave them to their fate. And soon, he would be able to wash his hands of the entire affair. He would need to stay in town long enough to give Miss Talbot the dance he owed her, but aside from that there was no need for his further involvement, nor his presence in London. After tonight, he was quite sure that his days spent worrying about Miss Talbot would be over.

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