Saving Lord Berkshire - Laura Beers Page 0,6
able to speak freely around is your solicitor, Mr. Kendall.”
Edward clenched his jaw. “I am well aware of that fact, and I find it quite disconcerting.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Kendall is beneath your notice.”
Kitty’s jaw set determinedly. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t speak to the man when he comes to call.”
“That is precisely what it means,” he stated.
“It would be unfathomably rude of me to ignore Mr. Kendall, especially since he has been nothing but kind to me.”
Edward frowned as he gestured towards the door. “Shall we?” he asked, growing tired of having the same argument with his sister. “The coach awaits.”
“I don’t know why you insist on us taking a coach. Lady Fitzroy’s townhouse is only a block away,” Kitty muttered.
“Because it is not proper for us to walk to a soirée,” he reminded her.
Kitty stopped next to him and glanced over with a quizzical look. “Aren’t you ever tired of being proper?”
“No.”
“That is a shame, brother,” she said, brushing past him.
Edward followed his sister through the entry hall until she stopped to retrieve her pink shawl from Garvey.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly as the butler moved to open the door.
As they stepped down the stairs, Edward offered his arm to his sister, and he couldn’t help but notice that her back was rigid. He assisted her into the coach before he moved to sit across from her.
“Out with it,” he demanded.
Kitty pressed her lips together. “I’m tired of going to these afternoon teas, evening parties, soirées, and balls. It is not a reflection of who I am.”
“How else do you expect to find a husband?”
In a hesitant voice, she replied, “I am not entirely sure that I want a husband.”
Edward leaned back against the bench, astonished by his sister’s remarks. “What woman wouldn’t wish to secure a husband? A husband brings security.”
“I daresay you never listen to me,” Kitty admonished. “As I have said on multiple occasions, I don’t want a life in Society.”
He humphed. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he responded, his tone scolding. “You were born into this life.”
“That doesn’t mean I belong.”
“Of course you belong,” he asserted, his voice rising. “You are the daughter of a marquess.”
Kitty shifted her gaze towards the window. “But I’m not happy.”
Her sad words softened his heart. “You just need to find a suitor, and all will be made right again. I’m sure of it.”
“It is not that simple.”
Edward nodded. “It is,” he insisted. “A suitor will make you happy.”
Kitty nibbled her bottom lip. “What if…” Her voice stopped.
“ ‘What if’ what?” he prodded.
“What if we spoke to a matchmaker?” she asked softly.
He reared back slightly. “You would consider that?”
Kitty lowered her gaze to her lap. “I know I sound rather silly and contradictory, but, if I do marry, I want it to be for love. Like in the books that I read.”
“Love is such a trivial detail,” he attempted.
“No, it is the most important,” she said. “I had a friend from boarding school that hired Miss Blackmore to secure her a match.”
“I take it that Miss Blackmore was successful?”
Kitty nodded. “She was, and my friend seems blissfully happy with her choice.”
“I am not opposed to speaking to a matchmaker, but perhaps we should speak to someone other than Miss Blackmore,” he suggested.
Kitty looked at him with a baffled expression. “But Miss Blackmore is the finest matchmaker amongst the ton. Why wouldn’t we speak to her first?”
“I heard she can be rather difficult to work with,” he tried, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“From whom?” Kitty asked. “My friend said that she was a delight to work with, and they became fast friends.”
“It matters not since I have heard Miss Blackmore is not taking on any more clients at this time,” he lied.
“Oh,” Kitty murmured. “Then I suppose a matchmaker was just wishful thinking on my part.”
“There are other matchmakers in London,” he tried.
Kitty turned her gaze back towards the window. “Not like Miss Blackmore. I just thought,” she hesitated, “she might even be able to help me overcome my shyness.”
Edward heard the sadness in her voice, causing his heart to break. “If it means that much to you, I can try to arrange a meeting between you and Miss Blackmore.”
“Have you met Miss Blackmore then?” she asked eagerly.
He winced. “I have,” he replied, keeping his words vague.
“What is she like?” Kitty inquired.
Thankfully, before he could respond, the coach jerked to a stop in front of Lady Fitzroy’s townhouse. The coach door was opened, and he exited first. He reached