‘It would be a pleasure to be on first-name terms after all this time. Do you remember that picnic where we first met?’
‘Of course.’
‘That was nearly two years ago. I thought you a terribly dashing young soldier then.’
‘Then?’
‘Of course. Now you are more mature.’ She swept an appraising glance over him. ‘Quite the gentleman, and a member of parliament as well. Why, you are almost respectable, Arthur. The only thing missing is that fine pair of boots you were admiring in the window. Shall we go inside and have a proper look at them?’
‘Miss - Kitty, I wouldn’t presume to—’
But she had already swept past him, and was standing by the door of the shoemaker’s, waiting for him to open the door for her. Arthur hurried over, opened the door and stood to one side as she swept past, her skirts rustling as she entered the establishment. One of the staff immediately hurried out from behind the counter and bowed to the two customers.
‘Welcome, sir. And how may I help you or your good lady wife?’
Arthur coloured and glanced at Kitty, who raised a gloved hand to smother her smile. She coughed, made a sober face and gestured towards the window.
‘My husband was interested in those riding boots you have in the window. Would you fetch them, please?’
‘Of course, madam.’ The man bowed and hurried across the shop floor to the display window. Arthur turned to her anxiously. ‘Kitty, what on earth are you doing?’
‘Shhh! Arthur,’ she whispered.‘I’m having some fun. I’ve never been married before. Let’s see what it’s like.’
He glanced across at the shop assistant leaning over the rail to retrieve the boots. ‘I really don’t think this is appropriate.’
‘Quiet. He’s coming back. Just play your part and everything will be fine.’
‘What?’ Arthur felt his cheeks tingle with embarrassment.
‘Here we are, madam!’ the assistant smiled as he returned to them, holding the gleaming boots aloft. He turned to Arthur and, looking at his buckled shoes, he made a quick estimate of his customer’s size. ‘They should be a fair fit. Would sir like to try them on?’
‘Erm, yes. I suppose so.’
‘Very well, sir. Please take a seat.’The assistant gestured towards a couch to one side of the counter and Kitty bustled over to it, sank herself down and patted the cushion beside her.
‘Don’t keep the man waiting, dearest.’
Arthur winced, and then resigned himself to going along with her little game with as much good grace as he could manage. Taking a deep breath he crossed to the couch and sat down beside Kitty, and smiled at her in the indulgent manner with which he had seen real husbands smile at their wives. Arthur leaned forward to unbuckle his shoes and remove them, before taking the boots proffered to him by the assistant. He slipped them on, stood up and walked a few steps up and down in front of Kitty.The leather was stiff and uncomfortable and chafed the tendon at the back of his heel so that even though they looked undeniably elegant Arthur could not wait to be out of them. He turned to Kitty.
‘Well, what do you think, my darling?’ He added the last words lightly, but there was a little thrill of pleasure as they passed his lips. ‘I’m not really sure they suit me.’
‘They suit you admirably, Arthur dear. You must buy them immediately.’
‘Oh,’ Arthur hadn’t been expecting such an affirmation and did not want to part with twelve guineas for a pair of boots that would be excruciatingly uncomfortable. But if Kitty liked them …
‘Very well,’ he nodded to the assistant. ‘I’ll take them.’
‘Thank you, sir. Will that be cash or account?’
Arthur felt a warm flush of embarrassment in his cheeks. ‘I don’t have an account here, and don’t have the required cash with me.’
The smile faded a little from the assistant’s face. ‘That is unfortunate, sir.’
‘Yes. Would you be kind enough to put the boots aside while I visit my bank to draw some cash?’
‘Of course, sir. But a small deposit will be required. Ten shillings will suffice.’
Arthur nodded unhappily, sat down and pulled the boots off, relieved to take the pressure off his heels. He frowned as he saw that the heels of his stockings were already stretched and torn. Slipping his shoes on, he fastened the buckles while the assistant started to write a small note.
‘May I have your name, sir?’
‘It’s Simpson,’ Kitty said quickly. ‘The Honourable Miles Simpson.’
‘Thank you, my lady.’ The assistant completed the note and slipped it between the two boots on the counter. ‘Our policy is to hold the boots for a week,’ he explained. ‘After that they will be returned to the window. The deposit is, alas, non-refundable, sir.’
‘I understand.’ Arthur rose to his feet, took out his purse and handed the man the required money, and then offered his arm to Kitty. ‘Come, my dear.’
She slipped her hand through his arm and the assistant hurried to the door to open it for them as they swept out of the shop and on to the street.
Kitty pressed her spare hand to her face to conceal her laughter as she pulled Arthur along the street, out of sight of the shoemaker’s shop.
‘Simpson?’ he queried. ‘Why Simpson?’
‘Why not? It’s a perfectly admirable name. Besides, I had a wonderful governess called Simpson.’ She took her arm back from Arthur. ‘Well, that was fun.’
‘Yes. I suppose it was.’ Now that the moment was over Arthur was not sure what to do next. He had Kitty to himself and should not waste the opportunity to further their friendship. ‘Miss Pakenham - Kitty.Would you do me the honour of having some lunch with me?’ He nodded towards the better end of the street. ‘At Brown’s.’
‘Lunch at Brown’s?’ She raised her finely plucked eyebrows. ‘Well, I don’t know.What would people say if they saw me in the company of a young rake?’
‘Ah, but since we are married, there would be absolutely nothing for people to remark at.’
Kitty stared at him a moment and then laughed. ‘Well, Miles, my dear, it seems the Simpsons are dining at Brown’s today.’
They did not dare to keep up the charade when they reached the hotel’s dining room. Brown’s was the kind of establishment that drew heavily on the best of Dublin society for its clientele and Arthur had to nod greetings to several acquaintances before the maître showed them to a table overlooking the street. Arthur did not pay much attention to the food he ordered and as he ate his mind was wholly fixed on Kitty. Her conversation maintained the light-heartedness she habitually affected. When he tried to shift the ground to a more serious subject, she artfully directed the conversation back to gossip and frivolous humour. But Arthur was happy to go along with her in the way that young men are inclined to defer to women they are keen to impress.When at last he happened to glance at the case clock against the wall opposite the window, Arthur was shocked to see that nearly two hours had passed and that he was already fifteen minutes late for his meeting with John Page.
‘Damn!’
Kitty started. ‘What on earth?’
‘I completely forgot an appointment,’ Arthur blushed. ‘Kitty, I must go.’
‘What?’ She looked hurt. ‘Already?’
Arthur asked for the bill. When it arrived, he was horrified to see that it came to more than he had in his purse. Kitty read his expression precisely and reached over to pat his hand.
‘Please allow me. It’s the least I can do if I have made you late.’
‘Good God! No.’ Arthur leaned back in his chair with an insulted expression. ‘I couldn’t possibly allow that.’
‘Ah, but I have the advantage,’ Kitty smiled. ‘You can’t pay for the meal, and I can.’
Arthur cringed inside. This was awful. Quite the most awful thing that could happen to him. He had hoped to impress Kitty Pakenham, yet here he was, financially embarrassed and worse still, beholden to her in a way that no gentleman should ever be. But what could he do? There was the bill on the table before him and the rude mathematics were quite incontestable. He cursed himself for paying the ten-shilling deposit on the boots.That was at Kitty’s instigation, he reasoned. So there was at least some responsibility on her part for his embarrassment. He looked at her and nodded.
‘I insist on paying you back at the earliest opportunity.’
‘I should think so! I am not in the habit of subsidising the eating habits of others. In fact I insist that you repay your debt as soon as possible. This Saturday afternoon.You will come to tea at our house in Russell Square. And you can repay me then,’ Kitty said firmly.
Arthur nodded his agreement, and bowed his head as he rose from the table. When he reached the door he glanced back at Kitty and smiled as he saw her watching him. She flapped her hand to usher him away and Arthur hurried off to the offices of John Page.The agent was sipping from a cup of tea as Arthur was shown into his room.
Page was a stout man with a fleshly neck and heavy cheeks that were ruddy and had a misleadingly cheerful red hue. His cold dark eyes revealed his true nature, that of a pitiless individual dedicated to amassing as large a personal fortune as possible from the commissions he drew from the income of his landed clients. He rose ponderously from his chair and ostentatiously drew a heavy gold pocket watch from his fob, and raised his thick eyebrows. Arthur ignored the gesture and got straight down to business.
‘My brother Richard has written to me from London to request that you realise his assets here in Ireland as soon as possible.’
Page sat up in surprise. ‘Sell everything, my lord?’
‘Everything. Starting with the house in Merrion Street. Then the Kildare estates, and finally, Dangan.’
Page frowned thoughtfully for an instant before he responded. ‘The first two shouldn’t present too much of a problem. Prices in Dublin have been steadily improving since the establishment of the parliament. However, since the trouble in France, there is a perception that Irish property is no longer the safe investment it once was. Not that anything will come of these unnatural French notions of egalitarianism, but there is a fear amongst property speculators that the Irish might revolt, and perception is everything in the property market, sir. If we sell now, the Merrion Street house should fetch a good price. The Kildare estates likewise. Dangan is the problem. It is, as you must realise yourself, not in saleable condition at present. The castle will require considerable work on it to achieve a good market price. I take it you wish to authorise me to act on your behalf in such remedial expenses?’
‘Of course, as long as the costs are contained.’
‘I’ll do my best, sir.’ He smiled at Arthur, and there was a moment of silence before Page coughed and continued politely, ‘Is there anything else?’
‘Well, yes,’ Arthur began awkwardly. ‘You see, the thing is that I’m somewhat financially embarrassed myself at the moment and—’
‘How much do you require, sir?’
‘How much?’
‘I assume you wish me to extend your line of credit?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘None at all, sir. I have, in my time, been of similar service to many young gentlemen like yourself.’
Arthur was sure he had. It was a fine way to maintain clients from one generation to the next. Arthur raised his eyes as if making a quick mental calculation.‘Let me see. A trifling amount, say forty guineas.’
Page nodded, and reached down to a drawer behind his desk. There was a rattle of a key and then Arthur heard the dull chink of the agent’s hand reaching into a large pile of coins. Page glanced at him. ‘Forty, you say?’
Arthur nodded and Page counted out the coins, in four neat piles on the desk. He pulled out a small ledger, flicked through the pages until he came to Arthur’s entry and then dipped his quill and made a note. ‘There we are, sir. On the same terms as the existing sum.’
‘Thank you, Page.That’s damn good of you.’ Arthur placed the coins in his purse and rose to leave. ‘I’m sure I am imposing on your valuable time.’
The agent opened his hands out and shrugged modestly. ‘A pleasure, as always, sir. I’ll see to that business of your brother’s at once.’
As soon as he had quit the agent’s offices Arthur made his way back to the shoemaker on Connaught Street and paid the balance on the riding boots. Uncomfortable as they were, he looked at them fondly. After all, it was thanks to these boots that he had at last been able to make some ground in his pursuit of Kitty Pakenham.
Chapter 71
The house on Russell Square was easy enough to find. The Pakenham residence was one of the more imposing and elegant houses that faced on to the square. Arthur glanced over himself to make sure that his appearance was as neat as possible. He had chosen to wear his best uniform and one of the officers’ servants at the castle had spent most of the morning polishing his boots into a glassy shine. The door opened almost as soon as Arthur knocked and a sombrely dressed footman stood aside to let him in.
‘Good God! That was quick.’
‘You are expected, sir. Miss Pakenham had me wait by the door.Your coat, sir?’
Once the footman had carefully hung Arthur’s greatcoat he led him through to the drawing room. Kitty was sitting in a comfortable armchair close to the window, pretending to read. She glanced up as her guest entered the room, and smiled warmly.
‘Hello, Arthur. Or are you still my husband, the Honourable Miles Simpson?’
‘I don’t know. That’s for you to decide.’
Kitty cocked her head on one side and appraised the young officer standing in front of her. ‘I think I like you best as you are. So shall we be Kitty and Arthur, for now?’
‘I should like that, very much.’
‘Good. Come and have a seat, Arthur.’ She waved her hand to a matching armchair on the other side of the window, and turned towards the footman. ‘We’ll have tea and cakes, Malley.’
‘Very good, ma’am.’The footman bowed his head and ducked gracefully out of the room. As soon as he was gone Kitty looked at Arthur and lowered her voice. ‘He’ll go straight to my brother Tom to let him know that you have arrived. I’m afraid my brother is trying rather too hard to be old-fashioned and respectable and will insist on acting as my chaperone while you are in the house.’