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can’t say anything; he hasn’t even made an
offer.’ Thomas sighed. ‘Not that it’ll make any
difference.’ He’d noticed his son talking to Constance
Beresford. Thomas cleared his throat. ‘So will you be
fucking Constance Beresford tonight?’ he asked
impertinently.
Because Charles had rarely heard his father
swear so coarsely, he jerked his face around in
astonishment. He was confronted with a knowing smile.
‘Yes.’ He said simply, swallowing the shock that his
father would even know her.
‘She’s good.’ Thomas said. ‘I sampled her wares
last year, while I was still debating asking Victoria to
dance and I have to say it was a very satisfying
experience.’ He laughed then, ‘and I promise not
compare notes tomorrow at breakfast!’
‘I find that disconcerting.’ Charles said and
quirked an eyebrow at his father. ‘Both Robin and I
sampled her goods before I went to Spain and I thought
she was good then.’
‘She’s better now. Another four years
experience, it makes a great deal of difference.’
‘At least you won’t have to worry about
paternity.’
‘No. She’s barren.’ Thomas said softly. ‘We all
know it. So does Rochdale, that’s why he set her up with
the townhouse.’ He sighed. ‘I should think he’ll divorce
her next year and find a new wife to give him an heir.’
Charles looked at his father abruptly. It was
something in the tone of his voice. ‘He’s asked for Kitty,
hasn’t he?’ he asked tightly.
‘And I refused.’ Thomas said and smiled gently. ‘I
couldn’t possibly see my little Kitty married to an old
man. She doesn’t need his title or his money. He can
have one of the debs that is being pressured for a title.’
He sighed deeply. ‘I just wanted to warn you, that’s all. I
know you had a thing for Connie before Spain, but she
has become a harlot and I would hate to see you
trapped by her.’
‘I told Kitty earlier, if I wanted a wife at the
moment I’d be talking to Louise Trenchard.’ Charles said
softly. ‘All I want is a fuck!’ and they both laughed
heartily.
‘I’ll send the plain coach back for you.’ Thomas
clapped his son on the shoulder. ‘I would advise you to
lie back and let her do all the work. She much prefers it
that way.’
Chapter 5
    It was the punch bowl, this time. It was on an
octagonal occasional table. Three ladies were just filling
their cups when there was a loud crack and a leg gave
way under the weight of the huge glass punch bowl.
With graceful inevitability the bowl slid off the table,
shattered on the floor into a million razor edged shards
and the contents burst across the ballroom in a tidal
wave.
    The waltz had finished and Richard asked if Kitty
would like some punch.
She smiled coyly again and nodded her head.
‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ She murmured and
Richard held out his arm. Kitty delicately rested her
fingers on his forearm and they walked over to the
Punch. Richard filled two cups and bravely drank it while
he stood with Kitty. They continued to chat and she was
telling him about childhood escapades with Charles.
‘Well, he hid in mother’s armoire and I couldn’t
find him for well over an hour. Even Robin was
becoming impatient with him. In the end Mama told me
where he was and I flew up the stairs into Mama’s
room, yanked open the door to find him wrapped up in
so much silk that he couldn’t get out.’ Kitty took another
sip of her punch. ‘That’s awful.’ She said with a look of
distaste. ‘What on earth is in it?’ she finished as she
turned, placed her cup on the table and turned back.
She had barely taken a step when the table leg
gave a loud crack. To Richard it sounded like a pistol
shot, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the punch
bowl lilt sideways. Years of military service had honed
his reflexes and in an instant his right arm clutched at
Kitty’s waist as he swept her off her feet and forward
out of the bowls trajectory and as the contents spilled
out, he caught