Aware they were awaiting his response, Leo dragged histhoughts back to the issue at hand. “But are you young ladies not looking for husbands?”
“Oh, yes indeed,” Clarissa said brightly. “And we’ve met quite a few gentlemen, haven’t we, Izzy?”
Isobel smiled a siren’s smile. “We have.”
“But when your half sister’s secret is discovered—” Leo began.
To his amazement, Clarissa laughed. “Don’t you see? That will make a fine husbandly test.”
“Test?” He frowned.
“Do you think I would marry any man who looked down his nose at Izzy? Who would try to separate us? Who would not welcome her into his family?” Clarissa gave a delicate snort.
“And if you get no offers at all? If all your suitors evaporate overnight?”
Clarissa’s smile was sad, and a little cynical. “I think you’re forgetting my inheritance, Lord Salcott.” There was a short silence, then she added, “If that is all?”
Leo nodded. “You may go,” he said, but when both girls turned to leave, he added, “Not you, Miss Burton. I wish to have private speech with you.”
She raised an imperious eyebrow at him, and he found himself adding, “Please.” Something had changed in the last half hour, and he could no longer regard the two young women as flighty, irresponsible creatures that he could—and should—order around, as befitted a guardian.
He might disagree with what they’d done, but he found himself unwillingly respecting their acceptance of the inevitable consequences.
Clarissa immediately took Isobel’s hand again and faced Leo, her chin raised. “Whatever you say to Izzy you can say to me.”
“It’s all right, ’Riss,” Isobel told her quietly. “Go. I’ll explain later.”
Reluctantly, Clarissa left.
***
Once Clarissa had left the room, silence fell. Izzy seated herself in an armchair this time. She had no idea what Lord Salcott wanted to talk about. From the grim expression on his face, it wasn’t to pick up where they’d left off last night in the summerhouse.
Shame about that.
So what was it? Surely he’d said all he could on the subject of her going about in society.
Stern and forbidding looking, he stood glowering down at her for the longest moment. His damp buckskin breeches clung like a second skin to his long, hard thighs. His jaw was unshaven—she longed to feel its roughness against her skin. His hair was damp, tousled and unkempt. His boots were mud spattered, and a thin smear of mud lay unnoticed on his cheekbone.
Every other time she’d seen him, he’d been dressed immaculately. Now he loomed over her, rugged, rumpled—and magnificent.
He cleared his throat, and she looked up expectantly. “About last night,” he began, and stopped. He went to straighten his neckcloth, and then frowned, seeming to realize only now that it was wet, and that he was, in fact, quite wet himself.
“Are you sure this can’t wait until after you’ve changed?” she said.
“No. Better to get it out in the open now,” he said curtly.
Get what out in the open?she wondered.
“The thing is... the thing is—” He cleared his throat again. “It will not work.”
Just as she was about to ask him what would not work, he said in a rush, “I don’t know what game you and that female thought you were playing last night, but I must make it clear once and for all that I will not be jockeyed intomarriage, no matter how loudly you claim you’ve been compromised.”
Izzy gasped. “What?”
He glanced at her and gave a nod of grim satisfaction.
“I don’t know how the two of you contrived to arrange for us to be caught like that, but I find it despicable in the extreme, and I refuse to fall for such a shabby little scheme.”
