Page 29 of Against the Wind

“Of course! Lady Egerton may have all of her clothes, my lady.” Mrs. de Courtenay turned to Kit. “And I’ll not hear another word about you giving up the wages you earned.” Returning her gaze to the marchioness she added, “The twins have done very well because of Lady Egerton’s expert instruction. No,” she decreed, directing her comment to Kit, “the wardrobe is yours, my dear, and the wages as well.”

“Oh, Mrs. de Courtenay.” Kit was filled with emotion. “You are too kind.”

“Nonsense, my dear. You surely deserve more than the little I can do.” Her countenance saddened. “We hate to lose you, Miss Eger…that is, Lady Egerton. You know the twins and I will miss you very much.”

“I will miss you, too.” Kit’s eyes misted over. Here she was again, saying goodbye to people she had come to love. “Perhaps when this is over we can renew our friendship.”

“Yes, we would like that. May I keep the sketches you made of the girls? They were so very good, and Mr. de Courtenay is quite fond of them.”

“Oh yes,” Kit urged. “Please keep them.”

“You are an artist, Lady Egerton?” Mary asked.

“I like to draw, people’s faces in particular. The lines form a map of one’s life, reflecting all a person has suffered or enjoyed, all they have lived through.”

Mary gave Kit a smile. “A woman of many talents, I see. And much insight.”

“It is but a hobby,” said Kit.

Mary turned to Mrs. de Courtenay. “I would propose to send men to retrieve Lady Egerton’s trunks. Those men will also come in disguise, likely as carters.”

“Of course,” Kit’s erstwhile employer said. “You may send whomever you like.”

“Before we leave, I would love to meet the twins,” said Mary. “If they are at home.”

Mrs. de Courtenay seemed pleased. “You most certainly will meet the twins, my lady! The girls would be disappointed if they missed seeing their governess one more time.”

The tea arrived just as Mary and Mrs. de Courtenay finalized plans for recovery of Kit’s clothes. And just as they began to sip from the flowered teacups, the twins burst into the room.

“Miss Endicott!” Pen shouted, running over. “We were so worried. Are you all right? Why are you dressed as a lad?”

“I am fine, Pen,” Kit assured her, rising to give the girl a hug. “The disguise was necessary, I assure you.” Seeing Pen’s sister she added, “Hello, Pris.”

Pris smiled in greeting, and Kit turned to make introductions all around.

“Lady Ormond, may I present my charges, Miss de Courtenay and Miss Penelope.” To Pris and Pen she said, “The Marchioness of Ormond.” At the girls’ puzzled looks she added, “We are both in costume. And my real name is Katherine, Lady Egerton.”

The twins curtseyed charmingly before Mary, seeming to accept easily Kit’s new name. A sense of pride welled up within her. They had learned well the lessons she had taught them.

“Lady Egerton has told me much about your wonderful daughters,” Mary said to Mrs. de Courtenay, “and I can see she was not wrong.” Addressing the twins she added, “I was eager to meet you both. Lady Egerton’s descriptions of you were charming and accurate. You are both lovely.”

The girls beamed at the praise and joined them for tea, easily induced by Mary to tell stories of their first Season. As Kit listened, the dynamic between the pair sent her back to a day she and Anne had walked home in the sunshine, their only thoughts the things to which young girls of ten and eleven years give their attention.

“You are a vixen, Kit,” her sister had said, eyes aglow with laughter.

If a vixen was impetuous and daring, Kit agreed. She had ever been quick to rise to a challenge, sometimes without thinking. On that particular day, Kit had defended Anne from some young bullies who, while taunting her, had snatched away her most precious doll, sending Anne fleeing in tears. Though Kit had come away with scrapes and scratches, she’d sent the bullies running and recovered the doll.

Another memory floated in front of her mind’s eye as the twins continued to chatter on, and she paused to consider it. “Men are drawn to your auburn hair and blue eyes,” Anne had told her years later. “I am content to be the small brown mouse in your shadow. You fight our battles, and I love you for it.”

Kit forced back tears as she tried to focus on the two young women sitting before her, the sweet blush of blossoming womanhood on their cheeks. God, how she missed Anne. The hole in her heart was a persistent wound that would not heal. Perhaps it would always be so.

Shaking off the memory, she returned to the present and heard Mary telling the twins how she had avoided her first Season altogether. They were shocked and delighted, which only led to more stories and reminiscences.

All too soon they were bidding the de Courtenays goodbye.

Kit and Mary arrived back at the Ormond townhouse to find an angry Lord Ormond hovering like a storm cloud. The marquess was clearly displeased.

“You went where?” he asked his wife, incredulous.