She squeezed Izzy’s hand. “As for caring about your illegitimacy, I wouldn’twantto marry a man who would look down on you, or who expected me to hide my sister away like a—like a thing to be ashamed of. And if some gentleman prefers your beauty to my plain looks, so be it. He won’t be the man for me. So pooh to Lord Salcott and his gloomy prognostications. Wewillenter society—together!—and we will find ourselves a lovely husband.”
“Two husbands might be better—one each,” Izzy pointed out dryly.
Clarissa laughed merrily. “Yes, two lovely husbands!”
Izzy sobered. “We’d better go in. He said he was going to make an important announcement—he’s waiting for Lady Scattergood to finish her nap.”
“What do you think it will be?”
Izzy shrugged. “Something annoying, I’m sure.”
Chapter Four
Leo assembled them in the drawing room, this time with his aunt present. Enough shilly-shallying around. It was time these young women learned who was in charge.
He stood by the mantelpiece, feet braced firmly apart. The stern impression he’d aimed for was marred slightly by three of the little dogs sniffing interestedly at his boots. Hoping they didn’t decide to lift a leg, he tried to nudge them away; he was fond of these boots. So, apparently, were the dogs.
“Have you young ladies thought about what I said earlier? That Miss Studley must make her come-out in society alone.”
They looked back at him with politely blank expressions. He glanced at his aunt, with a faint and probably misplaced hope that she might support what he was saying.
She was busy rearranging the three—or was it four?—elaborately embroidered shawls she wore.
“Aunt Olive?”
She looked up with a vague smile. “Yes, dear?”
“You would concur, would you not, that it is not possible for Miss Burton to make her come-out in society?”
“Miss Burton? Who is Miss Burton?”
He refused to grind his teeth. “I am referring to Miss Isobel and why she cannot make a come-out.”
His aunt turned to Miss Burton. “Why, dear gel, are you ill?” She raised her lorgnette and scanned Miss Burton closely. “What nonsense, Leo. Ill? She’s not ill. The gel is positively blooming with health and beauty.”
“It’s not her health I’m talking about,” Leo said. He knew she was blooming, dammit. He didn’t need to look at her to notice. He felt it clear to his bones.
“Then what other reason is there?” Aunt Olive said.
The two young ladies, hands folded demurely, the very picture of innocence, turned their heads to look inquiringly at him. As if they had no idea what he was talking about.
“I am referring to Miss Burton’s irregular birth, Aunt Olive.”
She made an exasperated noise. “Who is this Miss Burton you keep talking about, Leo? I told you, I don’t know any Miss Burton, and I have even less interest in her birth, irregular or not.”
“I am talking about Miss Isobel,” he grated.
“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place? Make up your mind, dear boy.” She turned back to Miss Burton with a concerned expression and pointed her lorgnette at Miss Burton’s middle. “Are you breeding, dear child?”
Miss Studley made a muffled noise and buried her face in a handkerchief. Miss Burton said calmly, “No, Lady Scattergood, I’m not breeding.” She glanced at Leo, her green cat’s eyes dancing with mischief. “I have no idea why Lord Salcott would think so.”
“I didnotsay she was breeding!” Leo said.
“You did,” his aunt said. “I distinctly recall you said—”
“I said her birth wasirregular. She is Studley’snatural daughter.”
His aunt sniffed. “He could hardly have an unnatural one. Unless she really was delivered by a stork or found under a cabbage leaf, though why people persist in telling those ridiculous tales, I don’t understand. It’s not as if anyone could seriously believe—”
