Untamed Read Free

spill a drink over himself then look furtively around to see if anyone had noticed. People were people, wherever they were.
    Sylvie scanned the crowd; Kit supposed she had proved a disappointment.
    ‘Do you think the Duke will come?’ the dark-haired girl whispered to Sylvie, her voice an agony of longing. ‘Lord BenRuin could ask for a kiss and I wouldn’t even notice, if the Duke were here.’
    Kit’s attention was brought forcefully back to the conversation.
    ‘Which duke?’
    The girls turned identical looks on her. Baffled. Pitying. ‘There is only one duke,’ Sylvie said with absolute conviction. ‘Who cares what the old Duke of So-and-So does in his mouldy estate with his rheumatism and his dogs? There is only one duke. The Duke of Darlington is . . . he’s . . . he’s so . . .’
    She and her friend shared significant glances, as though she’d just delivered a full paper on all the Duke’s qualities, rather than proving him somewhat indescribable.
    ‘Is he expected tonight?’ Kit asked.
    I almost killed a man today.
    ‘I don’t know,’ Sylvie said, frustration clear on her face. She looked sideways at Kit. ‘We could always ask your sister.’
    The dark-haired girl flushed, deep and red, and she poked Sylvie in the ribs.
    Sylvie turned to her, face pulled tight. ‘Everyone knows it’s true. Even Mama talks about it, and she abhors gossip. Mrs Armitage seated Lady BenRuin and the Duke together at her Christmas dinner for a lark, and Mama said —’
    The other girl pulled urgently on Sylvie’s arm.
    ‘Lou, what the devil do you mean by —’ Sylvie looked where her friend pointed, and froze.
    Lydia was making her way over with a man at her side. Her eyes rested briefly, indifferently on Sylvie and Lou, because they were in her way. They curtseyed, mute, and made themselves scarce. A countess was not so easy to dismiss when she stood right before you, apparently.
    Kit didn’t smile at the thought. If even those girls felt they could talk about Lydia so loosely, Lydia’s world was more volatile than she had realised.
    ‘Sir William,’ said Lydia to the man at her side, ‘may I present my sister, Miss Sutherland?’
    The man wore black and white; his hair was neatly styled, his smile impeccable.
    ‘What a great pleasure it is,’ he said, ‘to meet the sister of the ton ’s darling.’
    ‘It’s a pleasure,’ Kit said. Then, ‘I mean, not to meet me, but to meet you, William.’
    He stuttered over her hand and she thought, I wish you would just give up now. Neither of us is going to enjoy this.
    ‘My sister has only been in town this past month,’ Lydia said, leaning conspiratorially into him. Kit watched his eyes devour Lydia – her smooth, golden beauty – and wished suddenly she was the savage they all thought her, so that she could spit and scratch at him.
    ‘Katherine, dear, you should not address him so informally until you become better acquainted. Oh, I see Lady Sybilla. Please excuse me.’
    Kit watched her sister leave. Did Lydia know if the Duke was coming tonight? Was she waiting for him?
    ‘Are you enjoying London thus far, Miss Sutherland?’ William asked, in that smug way they all asked it that sounded like, Has London taught you to despise your parochial home yet?
    She turned to him. ‘You must have some money, or my sister wouldn’t be throwing you at me. The more eligible the man, the worse I come off, the better the joke. She doesn’t like me very much, you see.’
    ‘I, er, ha ha, yes, very original. Very original.’
    Kit was called original a lot.
    ‘Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, Miss Sutherland?’
    She thought of what Lydia had been saying to her, just before BenRuin interrupted their tea. Make use of your disadvantage. Make him think of having his arms about you . But Sir William’s impeccable smile had become difficult for him, his gloves twisted about his fingers. This was not the man to risk being charming for.
    ‘I