sweet little miss off her feet the same night she made her first curtsy at Almack’s.
By then he’d be long rid of the maggoty female installed in Kensington. He’d pay Miss Partland off and get her out of London, out of his life, out of Nanny’s parlor. He didn’t like going home as if he were a tot leaving the candy shop empty-handed. Duty to the downtrodden was well and good, but did it require such instant devotion? Courtney didn’t like feeling childishly jealous of his nursemaid’s attachment to a foundling either! He only hoped he could act the smitten swain for the occasion of the Cyprians’ Ball. Of course he could. Miss Partland wasn’t an antidote, and her ill fortune was not entirely her fault. Besides, she could make up for his miserable evening and miserable temper in one night at the Argyle Rooms.
Peeling more charitable, the viscount thought that perhaps he’d send Miss Partland to his mother in Trowbridge when their performance was done. It was respectable and it was far away. Yes, that would serve.
* * * *
So enamored of his idea was Lord Chase that he didn’t think of the impropriety of sending his paramour to act as companion to his mother. Nanny did, along with the evil of ruining a good girl’s reputation. She wasn’t having any of it.
“But it won’t be for real. Nan. Your lamb’s virtue is safe as houses, I assure you. And we’ll change her name, so no one has to know it was Kathlyn Partland at the ball. One night, and she’ll earn a year’s worth of governess wages.”
“ ‘Tain’t right, and that’s all I’m going to say until Miss Kathlyn wakes up. She won’t do it, so I can save my breath. She’s a good girl, our Miss Kathlyn.”
“Well, I aim to try, and I’ll wager she accepts the offer. She must feel some gratitude to me for bringing her here, and she needs the blunt. Besides, her life must have been so dull, she’ll jump at the chance for an adventure! It’s not as though anything interesting ever happens to impoverished tutors’ dowerless daughters.”
Chapter Seven
It wasn’t snowing, but it was so cold, the Thames was freezing over. And hell would freeze over, too, before Kathlyn Partland accepted such an outrageous offer.
Courtney had had to wait until late afternoon to see Miss Partland alone. Clucking her tongue and muttering about men having muscles where their brains should be, Nanny went off to visit her daughter. Kathlyn was on the sofa again, a blanket over her knees. Her hair was braided and coiled at the back of her neck, and she wore a high-necked, low-fashioned gown whose shapelessness was as unattractive as its muddy color. Very governessy indeed, except for the spots of high color on her ivory cheeks.
The viscount was being polite, inquiring for her health and fetching the tea things. He thought he was being subtle, too.
Kathlyn thought he was being a clunch. “You wish to hire me to be an actress? My father would have a stroke. Of course, my father did have a stroke or I wouldn’t be in this position. But no, of course not. Performing in public is not a respectable occupation, you must know.”
“Yes, but this is only for one night. Miss Partland.” He was seated next to her on the sofa so they could share the plate of scones. He tried to look sincere. ‘Struth, he was sincere. “One night, that’s all I ask of you.”
Kathlyn stirred her tea, pretending to deliberate for courtesy’s sake. “I did take part in amateur theatricals once at the vicarage. Precisely what character is it that you wish me to portray?”
“My mistress.”
The dog had sense enough to run away.
“I have never seen such a female for flying into the boughs,” Courtney said, rubbing his cheek. “I said you’d be performing a role for one night, not performing naked dances on top of a table. I did not proposition you actually to be my mistress. By Jupiter, nothing was further from my thoughts.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. You did
By then he’d be long rid of the maggoty female installed in Kensington. He’d pay Miss Partland off and get her out of London, out of his life, out of Nanny’s parlor. He didn’t like going home as if he were a tot leaving the candy shop empty-handed. Duty to the downtrodden was well and good, but did it require such instant devotion? Courtney didn’t like feeling childishly jealous of his nursemaid’s attachment to a foundling either! He only hoped he could act the smitten swain for the occasion of the Cyprians’ Ball. Of course he could. Miss Partland wasn’t an antidote, and her ill fortune was not entirely her fault. Besides, she could make up for his miserable evening and miserable temper in one night at the Argyle Rooms.
Peeling more charitable, the viscount thought that perhaps he’d send Miss Partland to his mother in Trowbridge when their performance was done. It was respectable and it was far away. Yes, that would serve.
* * * *
So enamored of his idea was Lord Chase that he didn’t think of the impropriety of sending his paramour to act as companion to his mother. Nanny did, along with the evil of ruining a good girl’s reputation. She wasn’t having any of it.
“But it won’t be for real. Nan. Your lamb’s virtue is safe as houses, I assure you. And we’ll change her name, so no one has to know it was Kathlyn Partland at the ball. One night, and she’ll earn a year’s worth of governess wages.”
“ ‘Tain’t right, and that’s all I’m going to say until Miss Kathlyn wakes up. She won’t do it, so I can save my breath. She’s a good girl, our Miss Kathlyn.”
“Well, I aim to try, and I’ll wager she accepts the offer. She must feel some gratitude to me for bringing her here, and she needs the blunt. Besides, her life must have been so dull, she’ll jump at the chance for an adventure! It’s not as though anything interesting ever happens to impoverished tutors’ dowerless daughters.”
Chapter Seven
It wasn’t snowing, but it was so cold, the Thames was freezing over. And hell would freeze over, too, before Kathlyn Partland accepted such an outrageous offer.
Courtney had had to wait until late afternoon to see Miss Partland alone. Clucking her tongue and muttering about men having muscles where their brains should be, Nanny went off to visit her daughter. Kathlyn was on the sofa again, a blanket over her knees. Her hair was braided and coiled at the back of her neck, and she wore a high-necked, low-fashioned gown whose shapelessness was as unattractive as its muddy color. Very governessy indeed, except for the spots of high color on her ivory cheeks.
The viscount was being polite, inquiring for her health and fetching the tea things. He thought he was being subtle, too.
Kathlyn thought he was being a clunch. “You wish to hire me to be an actress? My father would have a stroke. Of course, my father did have a stroke or I wouldn’t be in this position. But no, of course not. Performing in public is not a respectable occupation, you must know.”
“Yes, but this is only for one night. Miss Partland.” He was seated next to her on the sofa so they could share the plate of scones. He tried to look sincere. ‘Struth, he was sincere. “One night, that’s all I ask of you.”
Kathlyn stirred her tea, pretending to deliberate for courtesy’s sake. “I did take part in amateur theatricals once at the vicarage. Precisely what character is it that you wish me to portray?”
“My mistress.”
The dog had sense enough to run away.
“I have never seen such a female for flying into the boughs,” Courtney said, rubbing his cheek. “I said you’d be performing a role for one night, not performing naked dances on top of a table. I did not proposition you actually to be my mistress. By Jupiter, nothing was further from my thoughts.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. You did
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