Page 22 of A Lady's Guide to Scandal

‘Very well then.’ He inclined his head in mock courtesy. ‘Your parents were … acquainted before their marriage, were they not? In fact, your mother made quite a lucrative career out of being … acquainted with several gentlemen, I am told. As did your “Mrs Kendall”.’

Kitty did not speak. She was not even sure she was breathing, though her heart was beating loudly in her ears.

‘And when your father decided to marry his mistress,’ Radcliffe went on, in that same soft voice, ‘his family would not approve of the match – understandable, I suppose – and banished him from London to avoid the scandal. Quite the fall from grace for him, I should imagine.’

A silence fell in the aftermath of these words.

‘May I ask, my lord,’ Kitty refused to allow her voice to tremble, ‘how you came to develop this delightful little theory?’

His eyes were bright with triumph. ‘My tiger, Lawrence – useful chap, does far more for me than just holding the horses – heard the whole from your Mr Linfield’s manservant a few days ago. Did you know that was why Mr Linfield broke off your engagement so suddenly? I’m afraid your father confessed the whole to the Squire while deep in his cups one night shortly before his death. After such a revelation, the Linfields could not countenance the marriage.’

Kitty jerked her head in a forceful shake, even as the words rang horribly true. So that was why she had lost Mr Linfield, why his parents had thrown Miss Spencer in his path so hastily – because Papa had revealed the family secret, after all their years of keeping it safely hidden. She felt a hot rush of despairing rage – at her father, at Radcliffe, at the whole world for landing her in this mess.

Radcliffe took a pinch of snuff with a graceful twist of his wrist, and the casualness of this action – when she was suffering from such a shock – so infuriated Kitty that it quite crystallised her thoughts.

‘And what exactly,’ she asked coolly, marshalling herself once more, ‘is the relevance of my mother’s background to this discussion?’

Radcliffe raised a single brow. ‘I find it hugely relevant,’ he said calmly. ‘I do not imagine – honest though you may have been about your family’s financial destitution – that you have divulged the scandalous details of your parentage to Archie. And Archie, kind-hearted though he is, would not take such a revelation warmly. A love affair is exciting, to be sure, but Archie has been raised with an admirable dislike of scandal. And should the news spread, you will not find this city a welcoming place.’

Kitty clenched trembling fingers into a fist. ‘And I suppose in order for the news not to spread, you would have me leave London?’ she asked bluntly.

‘Oh, I am not so heartless as that.’ He shut his snuffbox with a decisive snap, as if readying himself to leave, the deal done. ‘You may decide for yourself where you go, and when. You may even attempt to seduce another member of the ton – it matters not to me,’ he said carelessly. ‘But I would ask that you leave Archie, and my family, alone.’

Silence again. Kitty supposed he could have been more ruthless in his victory, more vindictive. Were she in his shoes, she would have seen him off on the morning post personally.

But then again, was it so kind? The London Season was about to begin in earnest, and without any proper connections, Kitty could only exist on its peripheries, where the very wealthy did not frequent. Pointless. And with limited funds, expensive. She would instead have to commit herself to one of Aunt Dorothy’s original choices for her. Two thousand pounds a year was not to be sniffed at, after all … She thought of the easy way the de Lacys treated their wealth. As if it were barely worth their consideration – simply a fact of life, much like the air they breathed. What she wouldn’t give, for her sisters to have the same security …

‘Do we have an understanding, Miss Talbot?’ Radcliffe drew her attention back to him. His tone was not unkind, now. Did some part of him feel a measure of sympathy for the loss he could see in her eyes?

‘An understanding,’ she said slowly, pausing over each syllable. ‘Yes, I think so. I understand that you feel you need to expose me to be rid of me. And I also understand that, in response, I will take Archie to Gretna Green to be married there. I feel it is safe to assume, given the affection you bear him, that upon our marriage you would do your best to hush up the scandal of our elopement.’

Radcliffe, famed for his poise and calm on even the bloodiest of battlefields, felt his jaw drop.

‘Gretna Green?’ he repeated, foolishly.

‘I own the thought of travelling such a long way on a Sunday to be rather daunting – but if it is truly necessary, I imagine I will be up to the task. After all, needs must.’

Radcliffe found himself gaping at her incredulously.

‘Needs must,’ he echoed faintly. He stared at her, seated so primly upon her seat, a vision of elegance masking an evil soul.

‘Miss Talbot,’ he began again, over-emphasising the ‘t’s as if resisting the desire to spit it at her. ‘I have never in my life encountered a woman so lacking in female delicacy as yourself. I cannot fathom how you have the gall to sit there threatening my brother’s virtue like some … some two-penny theatre villain!’

‘Two-penny?’ she repeated, a little hurt. ‘I must say that feels awfully unkind.’

He stared at her, helpless, before – all at once – dissolving into laughter. She stared at him warily. Was he having a nervous breakdown, perhaps? His family was inclined to sickliness, after all.

‘Would you like some tea?’ she offered cautiously, this seeming the only recourse open to her. He let out another bark of laughter.

‘That would be simply marvellous, Miss Talbot,’ he replied, with a courteous bow of his head. She went out of the room to call for Sally, and in a few moments returned – Sally carrying a tray, and Miss Talbot following behind with cups. He watched her pour, the echo of his laugh still upon his lips.

‘I seem to have underestimated you once again,’ he commented matter-of-factly, as Sally closed the door behind her. ‘And so, we find ourselves at an impasse. I cannot allow you to marry my brother. I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep him from you, but I should like to avoid an unpleasant scene on the road to Scotland.’

‘I have no other alternative,’ she said simply and without embarrassment. ‘I would make him a good wife,’ she added cajolingly, looking up at him through her eyelashes. For a beat, he appreciated how easily she must have ensnared Archie.

‘Doing it a little too brown,’ he said mockingly, and the coy look was replaced with a scowl. ‘Surely you must be able to find yourself another rich young man to target?’ he pressed, wondering what it said about him that he was willing to sacrifice any other man in London, to rid his family of this cursed woman.

‘You say that as if it’s easy. The hallowed halls you walk in are impenetrable, my lord. I only met Archie by chance, and I don’t suppose another such opportunity will simply fall into my lap. For it to be worth me giving Archie up … I would need introductions. Invitations. Patronage, for want of a better word.’