An Honorable Thief Read Free Page B

Miss Singleton had agreed to take her. In fact, she must still have harboured some warm feeling towards Kit's father, for she had embraced Kit on her arrival in England quite as if she really were her long-lost niece.
    "Ah, you are wearing pearls, my love. Very suitable," said Rose. "I must remember to compliment your maid. So many girls in your position would be quite unable to resist the temptation to drape themselves with stones until they look exactly like a chandelier and I do so think diamonds are unsuited to a young girl. Pretty, of course, but so hard. Pearls, now, are much more suitable for an ingenue. '
    "Diamonds, Aunt? There is no danger of me wearing diamonds, I assure you!" Kit could not help the choke of laughter that escaped her. Diamonds! It had been as much as Kit could manage to purchase one set of good quality fake pearls before her arrival in England. Diamonds, even paste ones, were beyond her budget.
    Miss Singleton looked her over approvingly. "Yes, my dear. Very wise of you. One would not wish to appear vulgar."
    "No, Aunt Rose," said Kit demurely. What on earth did she mean, girls in your position! A vague allusion to her imposture? If so, it would be a first. Rose Singleton could be quite determinedly vague at times, particularly when it came to avoiding subjects she did not wish to discuss. But she had been so kind and generous, Kit would not for the world distress her by referring to anything the lady wished to avoid.
    She assisted the footmen to hand Rose into the coach, tuck a fur rug around her and adjust the heated bricks under her feet and then sat back, agreeably warm herself, while the coach rumbled over the cobblestones. She had learned to enjoy small pleasures while she had them.
    Outside, the night was clear and bright. The coach pulled up outside the Parsonses' town house, a grand old building, a little on the fantastical side and much embellished with Corinthian columns and odd Gothic gargoyles. It was lit, not only by gas lamps, but by flaming brands held aloft by liveried men.
    Kit stepped from the coach and turned to assist Rose down. She felt a thrill of pleasure and anticipation. Tonight she would not think of anything except the ball. Tonight she would let herself be the carefree young girl everyone thought her and enjoy all the pleasures London society had to offer.
    No doubt she would pay for it later, but then, that was life.
    "Is this not delightful?" whispered a young girl sitting next to Kit. "I never thought there would be so many people. I have never been to a ball in London before," she added confidingly.
    Kit smiled. "Yes, it is quite new to me also."
    "Are not the ladies' gowns beautiful?"
    "Yes, very," Kit agreed. "So many beautiful colours."
    "Kit, my dear, here is Lord Norwood, wishing to be allowed to dance with you. Give him your card, my dear," said Rose, smiling meaningfully at Kit.
    Thomas, Lord Norwood, bowed punctiliously over her hand. His fair hair was elaborately pomaded and carefully coaxed into the “Nonpareil' style. He wore knee breeches of a nice shade of biscuit, a heavily embroidered waistcoat and a coat which fitted tightly across narrow shoulders; his shirt points were so high and so heavily starched he could barely turn his head. His neckcloth was a complicated affair involving several knots and loops. Added to this was a collection of fobs, pins and a quizzing glass. All in all, Lord Norwood appeared the very epitome of a dandy.
    Kit handed her card over, hiding her reluctance. She had been hinting Lord Norwood away for several days now, but he seemed utterly impervious to her hints. She was not sure whether it was impregnable self-consequence which enabled him to overlook her indifference, or whether he had some other motive for making her the unwilling object of his attentions —a wager or some such. For unwilling she was: her plans did not allow for friendships of any sort, male or female. Her promise to her father was her paramount