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A small cluster of elderly women moved close to Kitty and moaned about being away from England. They then regaled her with tales of how to best cope with the lack of society in Sydney. Kitty hated to appear rude but she desperately needed some fresh air. The closeness of the full room and lack of food made her head swim.

She stepped into the hall, in search of a back door out into the garden, when a woman wearing a beautiful pink and black satin dress, sashayed towards her. The woman possessed dark sultry features with a glint in her catlike eyes that spoke volumes. In her small, dainty hand, she held a closed fan; this she tapped gently against her cheek. She was a sensual woman of the world and all who saw her knew it.

“We have not been introduced.” Her voice was deep, exotic.

Intrigued, Kitty paused. “No, we have not.”

The golden catlike eyes narrowed. Her gaze sauntered over Kitty. “Ahh, you are darling Benjamin’s bride–to-be?”

Her intimacy was not lost on Kitty. “Yes, I am, and you are?”

“The woman who has been keeping his bed warm.”

Kitty blinked, but other than that, she remained motionless on the outside while inside her stomach churned. “Is that so? I am much obliged, however, your services will no longer be required.”

“You think you can keep him satisfied? You, a cold, little Englishwoman?” Her throaty laugh straightened Kitty’s backbone.

“You forget, an English wildflower survives under all conditions unlike the exotic blossom that dazzles for a short time and then fades.” Kitty turned on her heel and walked blindly into the nearest room, which thankfully, was empty.

Breathing in deep gulps of air, she held onto the back of a nearby chair to steady herself. How could he? Did the gypsy-like woman speak the truth? Were the doubts she experienced in York coming true? She trembled as shock warred with her budding anger.

She spun around as the door opened.