Page 11 of In Search of a Husband
Best Regards,
Miss Katherine Bancroft
Kate slipped the envelope into the pile of mail and sighed. Now all she had to do was pack and tell Charlotte.
But first, she would need more lemon cakes.
CHAPTER 2
Kate squinted,pushing the needle through the linen, paying attention not to pick up her last emerald stitch to finish thep. Two more letters to go.
She glanced at the ornate cherub clock on the mantel, waiting. Then she shifted her weight, lying back on the pink sofa with a cushion stuffed under her side to prop her up as she continued her embroidery.
Kate wished for something to happen. Anything, really.
Instead, she was a social pariah who, at twenty and six, was firmly on the shelf with little hope of rescue. And after yesterday’s fiasco with her mother, she thought it best to remain out of any situation that would only draw more attention to herself.
She hadn’t the stomach to check the gossip rags later.
Now on to thee.
The door opened as Charlotte whooshed into the drawing room at—Kate glanced once more at the clock—near seven in the morning.
It felt as if it had been ages since she had last seen her friend yesterday at the school. Felt even longer since she had such fun.
“Late night, Duchess?”
Charlotte brushed back the few bouncy blonde curls by her temple and exhaled before collapsing back into a brocade armchair. “Why must Lady Colter insist on so many dinner courses?”
“She wishes to impress you, no doubt. Beyond that, I believe service à la russe is popular in London now.”
She had read all about it. There were a great number of things Kate could tell Charlotte about theton, none of them overly interesting of course.
Charlotte buried her face in her hand and forced out a lifeless laugh. “I don’t know if I can stomach anyone attempting to feed me another lobster, and it’s not even the start of the Season yet.”
Soon, though.
Soon London would be a swarm of activity, and Kate would be watching as if she were a wallflower, alone and shunned from the excitement. All because of a man.
Kate rolled over to her side and set down her embroidery. “Charlotte, are you well? It’s not like you to complain about… well, anything.”
For all intents and purposes, Charlotte was her oldest and dearest friend in the world and also the wisest. She was the stable force that balanced out Kate’s brash spontaneity and Lily’s unbridled curiosity.
Except with Charlotte running the Gairdner’s Seminary for Young Girls at Moore Hall while Lily was away in Venice, it felt as if Kate was well and truly alone.
“Oh, fine.” But then her friend laughed, shaking her head. “You know? I am not sure if that is true.” She rubbed her brow and sighed. “I wish to return to Stonehurst. London is exhausting.”
Normally Kate would be excited to hear such a sentiment, but today, she felt a small pang of guilt.
“What are you working on?” Charlotte asked, sitting up and reaching across the small table to fetch her friend’s embroidery.
“Bollocks? Strumpet? What’s this?” Charlotte shot the embroidery hoop down to her lap with an incredulous laugh. “Katherine Bancroft, this is a sampler of curse words!”
“I am very proud of it. My stitching has improved remarkably.”
Charlotte giggled, handing it over to Kate once more.
“It’s not as if someone will see it.” Kate tossed it aside and rose. She had been up for two hours and there was still so much of the day left to conquer. But conquer what? Besides the stack of Charlotte’s correspondence, there wasn’t much to keep her occupied.
