Page 86 of The Irish Gypsy
"Our glorious Kitty!" cut in Jim.
Patrick sprang up. "How the hell do you knowKitty?" he demanded.
"She sailed with me from Liverpool last year,that's how I know her."
Patrick groaned and sank down, his head inhis hands. "She's been sold as a slave, probably shipped to one ofthe islands."
Big Jim let out a bellow of laughter that wasdeafening.
"What in Christ's name are you laughing at,you bloody fool?"
"A slave! That's bloody rich, that is! Well,the laugh's on both of us, boyo. I wasn't good enough for her, andby the looks of it, you weren't good enough either. She sold out tothe highest bidder, Patrick, my lad. She's a bloody duchess!"
"Duchess? Make sense, man!" Patrick demandedangrily.
"Two months back I made port at St. Kitts andwho was sailing for England but the Duke of Manchester and hisduchess. Traveling like a bloody queen, she was, with enoughsodding baggage to sink a freighter."
Patrick sat stunned.
"What you need is a woman. Come on, I wasjust on my way to Dirty Annie's."
"Dirty Annie's be damned!" replied Patrick."I'll take you to the fanciest goddamned whorehouse inCharleston--La Maison de Joie."
Chapter 24
After a week's rest in London, Kitty waslaunched into a whirlwind of social activities that dispelledforever her fear about being accepted. They were immediatelydeluged with invitations by those who were vying for a returninvitation to the Duke and Duchess of Manchester's. Charlescouldn't resist showing off his son for all their visitors. Kittyallowed him to show off his new son because it gave him obviouspleasure and pride.
The first thing Kitty had done on her returnwas to make sure Terry took their grandfather to her estate inIreland. After that, every moment was taken up with fittings fornew clothes, making the rounds of the shops for new pieces for thehouse, and entertaining Charles' friends.
They went to the ballet, the opera and thetheaters. Kitty began to enjoy herself. At first she had beennervous of society, but Charles encouraged her to be herself andshe bloomed under his encouragement. She didn't affect any airs,but spoke to any and all with her natural exuberance. Charleschuckled to himself when he heard two of his friends discussing herat a party. "Remember this: The bluer the blood, the bluer thelanguage, I say. The girl's descended from royalty--wrong side ofthe blanket, of course."
Sometimes Charles accompanied her shoppingand she became very familiar with Hatton Garden off Bond Street. Itwas a dark shop with a room behind where they kept their stock ofdiamonds, and the tellers in Coutts' Bank knew her on sight.
Men were very attracted to Kitty, but soonshe acquired a witty repartee that kept them in their place.However, there were one or two ready to step over the line themoment she gave them the slightest encouragement. At buffetsuppers, they rushed to help her select the tastiest dishes.
"Do try some of the cucumber salad, my dear,"said Lord Macklesfield, standing much closer than he needed to.
She fixed him with a direct look andanswered. "A cucumber should be well sliced, dressed with pepperand vinegar and thrown away."
"Touché, my dear," he said with anappreciative twinkle. "You can't blame a chap for trying!"
Granville, a rather small man, overheard themand cautioned Lord Macklesfield, "Patience is bitter, but it bearssweet fruit."
Kitty winked at Lord Macklesfield and said,"Never listen to a man with short legs--brains too near hisbottom."
"I won't tangle with you, your Grace; yourtongue has a decidedly sharp edge to it," he said and laughed.
The Duke of Portland, whose job it was toengage all the royal footmen, saw Kitty coming toward him. Heturned to Lady Chatham and said, "Here comes an angel, and by GodI'd like to clip her wings. I do believe she fancies me, you know.She always singles me out for a compliment or two."
Kitty gave him a dazzling smile. "How do youdo it?" she asked sweetly.
"Do what, my dear?" he bridled.
"Delude yourself practically every day ofyour life."
Lady Chatham hooted with laughter. "You'reincorrigible! Come, let's find that husband of yours. I think hewent into the card room with the dowager Duchess Gresham."
"Good God, not that horsey woman! Did shehave Mr. Weatherley's stud book under her arm?" she asked withhorror.
