Page 22 of Enticed By an Earl
For a moment, Kit froze. He embraced the emotions that had filled him the other night and in the day since then, as he’d packed away his ballgown and remembered. He then blew out a breath and said, “So much.”
Simply confessing those feelings aloud filled him withtrepidation, though. He wanted to be Kitty again. He wanted to be her all the time. She was who he truly felt himself to be. The intensity of that longing was so strong within him that it nearly brought him to tears again.
“I see,” Dev said quietly.
Kit had the feeling that he did see. He felt as though Dev saw quite clearly, which was miraculous in itself.
Dev took a sip of his tea, adjusted the way he sat, and tilted his head as he studied Kit. “You said that you believe your father is trying to eliminate you so that your brother might become the earl, and someday the duke, correct?”
Hearing as much stated aloud had Kit shrinking in on himself. He peeked around to be absolutely certain none of the other patrons of the tea shop were listening. They were all absorbed in their own conversations, though.
“I believe so,” he whispered, both terrified and deeply saddened by the violence of his father’s rejection. “I should never have been born into the position of earl at any rate. George should have been the firstborn. I should have been much farther down the line. My life would have been infinitely better if I could have lived it in obscurity at one of our country estates, or perhaps traveled abroad.”
“But we cannot choose the lives we are born into,” Dev said, his look still calculating. “Or can we?”
“What do you mean?” Kit asked, flushing once more.
Dev was silent for a long moment before taking a breath to break the intensity of the moment then shrugging. “You are an earl in your own right. Surely you have estates and an income attached to your title. You could do as you say and remove yourself permanently to the country.”
Kit shook his head, putting down the teacup he’d been holding without drinking from for too long. His tea had gone cold at any rate. “My father firmly controls all the purse strings in the family. He is aware that I do not want anythingto do with the London life that he has carved out for me and he has deliberately cut off the only means of escape that I might have had. I must conform to his vision of who I should be or…cease to exist.”
Dev frowned and hummed in disapproval. “He is determined to shape the world around him into something he desires, then?”
“He is determined to kill me,” Kit said, his throat constricting. “He knows I will never be the man that George is.”
Dev’s expression clouded with fury. “I have heard a great many things in my time that paint certain people as villains and blackguards, but a father intent on killing his firstborn son simply because he isn’t what he had in mind as an heir is the worst of it.”
“He may have a point,” Kit said, sagging. “What use am I as an earl or a duke the way I am?”
Dev’s eyes went wide with offense. “You are of a great deal of use,” he said. “Holding a title and managing the estates and responsibilities thereof involves a great deal more than bearing children and throwing one’s elbows out in the House of Lords.”
Kit somehow managed a grateful, if sad, smile for Dev. No one had ever supported him in quite such a manner before. No one had advocated for him or told him he was acceptable just the way he was.
To Kit’s surprise, Dev went one step farther than that.
“It is clear to me that you cannot return home,” he said, getting up and gesturing for Kit to rise with him. “I believe your life is in danger at Bedminster House. I believe you when you say your father is trying to eliminate you.”
“But what can I do about it?” Kit asked, scrambling to catch up to Dev as he left the tea shop and started out into the bright, June day. “I have been separated from any financialmeans I might have had. I have a few friends, but they are all ladies and it would be inappropriate for me to appeal to them for help.”
“All of your friends are not ladies,” Dev said, sending him a mischievous smirk as they walked side by side back toward Mayfair. “And some of your not-ladies friends have more money than they know what to do with.”
“My lord, no, you cannot,” Kit said, even as hope and deep gratitude welled up within him.
“I believe I told you to call me Dev,” Dev said, his eyes sparkling as his mischief grew.
“I do not know what you have in mind, Dev,” Kit said, “but I do not know if I can accept money from you.”
“It is not money that I am offering,” Dev said, striding toward the street corner with a broad smile. “It is something else entirely. I am offering you safety and shelter.”
“Shelter?” Kit’s stomach fluttered. Dev was not suggesting that he move into Russell House, was he? He was not aware of Dev having any sort of house or lodging of his own.
Then again, he didn’t know Dev as well as he might. Though their friendship had grown deeply close in a very short amount of time, he had to admit that he knew very little about his hero.
“Do not worry,” Dev told him. “I know precisely what should be done not only to rescue you from the misery of a life under your father’s thumb but to enable Miss Kitty Dryden to have her day as well.”
Kit nearly tripped over his own feet. Whatever Dev had in mind, he had the feeling it would turn his life upside down.
Eight
