Read Lord Devere's Ward for Free Online

arrived without his valet and has never been known to rise before noon at the very earliest, not even for a day in the field.”
    “Thank you.” Kate tied the belt around her waist.
    “At what time is luncheon served?”
    “One o’clock, ma’am. May I bring you
    elevenses?”
    “Yes, please. A cup of chocolate and a roll will suffice, and hot water for my wash.”
    “Very good, ma’am.” Bettina withdrew.
    Kate opened the curtains to look at the pleasant prospect. Below her, a wide balcony hemmed by a low balustrade divided the house from its surrounding gardens. Further in the distance, she could see rolling fields, perfect for a gallop. The sun glittered off a stream meandering through the meadows. Yes, the day had begun in a remarkably fine manner.
    Her serenity was not marred by the absence of her guardian. A less practical girl might desire eligible Quinn to dance attendance upon her, but she preferred him at work in her interests in London.
    Shivering, she remembered his odd, brooding countenance. What must he think of her, bursting into his room dressed in boy’s garb? Yes, it was best that he’d left Penrose House, for she had not the slightest wish to face that curious, penetrating gaze.

    * * *

    To Kate, living with the Penroses felt rather like slipping into a hipbath full of heated water. She conveyed her gratitude to her host and hostess at luncheon, a meal again attended by Lord and Lady Penrose, and the two eldest children.
    “Stuff and nonsense!” said Lady Anna briskly.
    “We’re delighted to have you.”
    “Mamma, shall we go to Sevenoaks after luncheon?” Louisa asked. “I need a few ells of thread-lace to trim my old bonnet. We can visit the seamstress and select fabrics for cousin Kay while we’re there.”
    Anna considered. “I am not sure Sevenoaks will have all we require. But it will be a start.” So after luncheon, the four females piled into the Penrose coach for the brief drive into nearby Sevenoaks. A charming town, Sevenoaks had an appealing Tudor ambience, boasting numerous half-timbered buildings and cobblestoned streets. The Penroses, who stood as the local squires, were well known there, and they were greeted with friendliness by the merchants with whom they dealt. Kate was introduced to all and sundry as “Cousin Kay Tyndale, come all the way from India!” The spurious Miss Tyndale was regaled by the most interesting gossip in the tea shop and plied with the sweetest cakes.
    The draper had a small establishment in the center of town, and while he did not carry the fine silks and satins the women would need for their London social occasions, he showed them plenty of wools and cambrics suitable for everyday wear. Kate hesitated before selecting colors other than black and gray for her ensembles. Despite her disguise, propriety forbade her from indulging in the bright colors which would most flatter her hair and complexion. She comforted herself with the memory that her grandfather had preferred her in vivid plumage.
    She chose a deep Prussian blue for her riding habit and several sprigged muslins for morning and day dresses. In the country, she would prefer twilled sarcenet for her dinner gowns, but she knew later, in London, only the sheerest of fabrics would suffice, with only delicate shawls to protect her from the elements. Still, she selected a stout wool for her pelisse, in a lovely warm red.
    Louisa was unable to find the fine thread lace she craved for her bonnet, but prevailed upon her mother to purchase some ribbons to refurbish the hat. “For,” Louisa told Kate, “it is quite my favorite bonnet for walks at Penrose, and I am loath to replace it.” Anna herself needed no more clothing, but she helped Pauline choose fabrics; the fourteen-year-old grew rapidly and seemed to constantly need new gowns. The visit to the draper was followed by an equally fruitful stop at the seamstress, who measured Kate, fore and aft, top to bottom. She repeated the same