Page 58 of A Lady's Guide to Scandal

‘Kitty!’ Cecily squirmed away.

‘Well, look at that,’ Aunt Dorothy said, coming around the table to look at the vouchers herself. ‘What a turn-up, indeed.’

‘Is it really so important?’ Cecily asked, dubiously.

‘Cecy, it would be easier for us to be presented at Court,’ Kitty said exultantly. ‘This should squash all of Mrs Pemberton’s doubts about our birth – if we have the Almack’s seal of approval, she can have no further qualms. You have done very well, Cecy, very well indeed.’

The next night, they dressed themselves with more than their usual care, Kitty’s fingers trembling over buttons. For the occasion they were to wear their very best dresses, long-sleeved evening gowns of white gauze – Cecily’s dress decorated with embroidered pink satin roses, Kitty’s worn over a striped satin petticoat that she felt was the perfect mingling of demure but dashing. Her face already being quite flushed, there was no need for Kitty to pinch her cheeks, and she instead held her cold hands against her skin to try to cool down.

They left for King Street with more than enough time to spare, but Kitty did not want to leave anything to chance this evening. Almack’s was renowned for their strict rules upon dress, behaviour – and timings. The doors closed to new arrivals at eleven p.m. on the dot, and it was even said that Wellington himself had once been turned away for tardiness. Though by hackney cab the journey would not take more than thirty minutes even on the busiest of evenings, Kitty could not bear the thought of the doors shutting on them before they had even entered. But that fate did not occur, and the three women glided into the assembly rooms without issue, their names on the list, their vouchers accepted. They were greeted by the Countess Lieven, who was most gracious, and joined the throngs inside as smoothly as if they did so each week.

Many of the faces within were already familiar to the Talbots, but it felt wonderful nonetheless to be amongst them here – the place Kitty had oft heard spoken of as the beating heart of Society. There were three spacious rooms within, the first elegantly arranged with chandeliers hanging above and chairs lining the walls for those who did not dance – although after the splendour of the private balls she had attended so far in the Season, the rooms did not appear so wondrous. But it was not Almack’s appearance that characterised its power, and she was pleased to see its effects at work immediately. When Mr Pemberton spotted her from across the room, his mouth opened in surprise. He bustled towards them.

‘Miss Talbot,’ he said in delighted greeting. ‘I had not thought to see you here, tonight.’

She smiled mysteriously. ‘Mrs Burrell was kind enough to send us vouchers,’ she said carelessly, and watched as his eyes widened – as Kitty now knew, this woman, of all the formidable patronesses, was most known for her snobbery and hauteur.

‘Indeed! I must tell Mother – you know she is a great friend of Mrs Burrell, she will be so glad to hear the acquaintance is shared. In fact, Mother was saying she should like to meet you. Will you be attending the Jersey ball tomorrow evening?’

Just so, thought Kitty smugly.

‘I will,’ she replied.

‘Very good,’ he said approvingly. ‘I hope you will save me the first dance tonight, Miss Talbot? I should very much like to have the waltz, if the lady patronesses permit it.’

He looked at her with unmistakable ardour in his eyes.

‘As would I,’ she said faintly. A young lady could only waltz at Almack’s once specifically invited to do so by one of the patronesses, and an invitation was not guaranteed – but while Kitty should, she knew, be eager for the honour, she could not help shiver at the thought. Try as she might to bully herself into overcoming this weakness, Kitty still found herself quite averse to the idea of being held so closely by Pemberton. She could see the appeal of the dance, of course, but could not escape the fact that when she imagined dancing it, it was not Pemberton she was partnered with.

As they walked towards the supper room, Mr Pemberton began to enumerate all the ways in which his family was connected – however loosely – to the rest of the Almack’s patronesses, an oration that lasted all the way through supper. Kitty was somewhat disappointed to find that, instead of the sumptuous feasts at the private balls she was by now used to attending, refreshments at Almack’s consisted only of thinly sliced bread and pound cake. But by the lack of surprise on the faces around her, she supposed that this must be quite normal – the habits of wealthy people were still so mysterious to her – and she smiled to think that she was becoming quite spoiled.

Kitty managed to escape Mr Pemberton once supper was concluded, foisting him upon Miss Bloom – really, the girl owed her some recompense for her recently announced engagement – and circling the edge of the dance floor with Aunt Dorothy, until they were hailed by Lady Radcliffe, who stood with Lord Radcliffe.

‘Mrs Kendall!’ the Dowager trilled in excitement, quite ignoring Kitty, who took the inadvertent snub without offence, as Lady Radcliffe pulled Aunt Dorothy into a low-voiced tête-à-tête.

‘Miss Talbot.’ Radcliffe bowed in greeting. ‘I would express my shock at seeing you here, and yet I find I am not all that surprised. Is there anything you are not able to do?’

She took the compliment with a smile. ‘Would you believe it was all Cecily’s doing?’ She explained the story to him.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Poetry came in useful, after all this time? By Jove, who would have thought.’

‘And to think I begrudged her education,’ Kitty said contritely. ‘Terribly short-sighted of me. I had no idea Mrs Burrell was such an academic.’

‘And what do you think of these grand halls, then?’ He widened his arms to encompass the room. ‘Do they live up to your lofty expectations?’

‘They do,’ she replied. ‘I cannot believe I am here.’

‘The food is somewhat disappointing, I know,’ he said apologetically.

‘Isn’t it,’ she said with great feeling, and they shared a laugh.

‘What is on the agenda tonight, then?’ Radcliffe asked. ‘Any further faux faints?’

‘So long as you hold your temper, that should not be necessary.’

‘Do not worry, I have already promised my mother to speak only of the weather and my health,’ he reassured her. ‘Though if your Pemberton approaches, I shall find myself tested, I imagine.’

‘You could apologise to him,’ Kitty suggested. ‘You were very rude.’