“N... no. Well, he might have been at first, but that soon passed.”
Clarissa gave her a searching look. “So you just talked?”
“Yes.” Izzy felt her cheeks warming under her sister’s intent gaze.
For a long moment Clarissa remained silent, then she gave a little crow of excitement. “Isobel Burton Studley, Lord Salcott kissed you, didn’t he? Oh, don’t bother to deny it! I can tell.” She snorted. “ ‘Talked’ indeed.” She leaned forward excitedly. “So tell me, what was it like? Was it horrid, like Lord Pomphret’s warm snails, or was it wonderful?”
“Wonderful.” Izzy sighed. “No, better than wonderful.”
“Oh my. Your first proper kiss. I’m so envious.”
Izzy pulled a rueful face.
Clarissa’s excitement dimmed. “So what went wrong?”
“Milly interrupted us.”
“Millydid? That wretched girl. What on earth was she doing outside at—what time was this?”
“After two. But it wasn’t the interruption so much, it was what she said and the horridly salacious way she said it.” She told Clarissa what Milly had said, and how Lord Salcott had interpreted it, and what he’d accused her of this morning. And what she’d told him in response.
By the time she’d finished, Clarissa’s eyes were sparkling with indignation. “The horrid suspicious beast! How dare he imagine you’d be a party to such a nasty trap! I’ve a good mind to go over to his place right this minute and blister his ears good and proper!”
Izzy laughed and put a calming hand on her sister’s knee. “No, don’t, love. I’ve said enough to him already that I suspect his ears are still burning. Now, how about we go for a nice long ride, put Lord Salcott right out of our minds.”
Clarissa gave her an odd look. “What? Now?”
“Yes, of course now. Why not?”
Clarissa gave a gurgle of laughter and pointed at the window against which rain was pelting. “He has put you in a state, hasn’t he? It’s been raining like that all morning.”
“Oh.” Izzy was a little embarrassed, but joined in the laughter. “Well then, let us send a note over to Lady Tarrant and see if she’d like some help entertaining the children. They won’t like being cooped up inside, either.”
“Oh yes, lovely idea,” Clarissa agreed. “I’ll write that note this very minute.” She slipped off the bed and hurried to the door, then paused and looked back. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that kiss, sister dear. You haven’t told me nearly enough. We never-been-kissed spinsters need detail. Between ‘not like warm snails’ and ‘better than wonderful’ there’s an enormous gulf of possibilities. I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to share, but not for long.”
Chapter Ten
Race arrived just as Leo was coming downstairs to breakfast. Race wore all the appearance of a man who had slept badly. Or was, perhaps, still the worse for drink. Leo’s mood lightened.
“Matteo has hired a new cook—Neapolitan, so lord knows what we’ll get for breakfast,” he told his friend. When he’d visited Naples, breakfast was usually just coffee and pastries, which, although tasty, didn’t fill a man up.
“As long as there is good Italian coffee, hot and strong and plentiful, I don’t care,” Race said.
“Feeling a touch delicate, are we?” Leo said with spurious sympathy.
For answer Race gave him a baleful look.
Leo laughed.
Breakfast started with ale—“hair of the dog”—followed by an endless supply of truly excellent coffee, hot and strong. Then came bacon and eggs. The eggs were scrambled and contained some kind of foreign cheese, but theywere delicious. And to follow there were pancakes, hot and sweet and stuffed, some with a sweetish soft cheese and some with jam. There was little conversation, only the sound of eating and drinking.
When they were finished, Race sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Now, that’s what I call a breakfast. Hang on to that cook, or I’ll steal him myself.”
“Mm.”
Race eyed Leo thoughtfully. “A breakfast like that should have put paid to that mood you’ve been brewing, but it hasn’t. It’s not just the party is it? What’s got you in a stew?”
“I spoke to the girls this morning.”
