The first time she’d walked with him on their own, she said, “Thank you for bringing that parcel from Mrs. Purdey.” Another tight band around his chest loosened.
“Was it something important?”
“Only to me,” she said softly. “Just some things from my childhood, things my mother made me. Not important, as such,” she added after a minute, “but precious to me. So thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.”
They walked on in silence.
“Oh, there’s Mrs. Gastonbury—have you met her?” sheasked in a bright, chatty voice. She nodded to an elegantly dressed old lady with a cane, walking with a young woman. “That’s her granddaughter with her, Cicely, whom she dotes on.”
Leo gave her a cautious look. Was she matchmaking? “We’ve never met.”
“Well, if you ever get invited to one of Mrs. Gastonbury’ssoirées musicale—and you will, she’s famous for them—make sure you take a large lump of malleable wax.”
He gave her a bemused look. “Wax?”
Her eyes were dancing with mischief. “Mrs. Gastonbury is a darling and Cicely is very sweet and just adores performing, but try as she will, the poor girl cannot quite hit the note—any note. So take wax and your ears will thank you.”
He choked on a laugh.
A few moments later he noticed a plump fellow in tight yellow breeches making a determined beeline toward them. He was beaming at Miss Isobel.
“An admirer?” he said jokingly.
She looked. “Oh, drat, it’s Lord Giddings. Shall we walk this way?” Without waiting for an answer, she practically dragged him in the opposite direction, plunging them into a tight knot of people.
“Avoiding Lord Giddings, Miss Isobel?” he asked silkily.
“If you knew Lord Giddings, you’d avoid him, too.”
Leo did know Giddings, or at least he was acquainted with him. A member of one of Leo’s clubs, Giddings was a shocking bore, pompous and self-righteous. So he was an admirer of Miss Isobel, was he? Leo was amused. He couldn’t imagine a more unlikely match. Quicksilver and clay.
They lost Giddings in the crowd, and she continued to point out people to him. Helping Leo get acquainted withLondon society, she claimed. Rubbing his nose in how well she and her sister had infiltrated society, more like.
“That’s Lady Entwhistle,” she said, indicating a large Roman-nosed matron wearing a hat encrusted with flowers and a stuffed bird. “Also a very sweet old lady, she is an expert on her husband’s family history. They go back before the Conquest, you know. If you ever get stuck in a corner with her, I promise you, you’ll end up knowing every detail of the intervening seven centuries. Soooo thrilling.”
He smothered a laugh and bowed to Lady Entwhistle, who was nodding and smiling and beckoning him to approach. She had an unmarried granddaughter, he suddenly recalled. Pretending not to see her invitation, he hurried them away.
Isobel gave a gurgle of laughter. “Lord Salcott, I never dreamed you were a coward.”
“I’m not.”
“Look at you, running from a big bad dowager. You never know, her sweet little granddaughter might be the very one for you.”
“She isn’t,” he grated. “Now, speaking of running away, where is that charming fellow, Lord Giddings? Perhaps you’d prefer to walk with him.”
She laughed again, that gurgle of laughter that so entranced him, then skipped ahead to join her sister.
Leo strolled and nodded and bowed and smiled until his jaw was aching. Everywhere he looked he saw young females being escorted by their mothers or aunts or grandmothers, occasionally by some gentleman and, in some cases, a female who looked like a governess. Even the very young girls strolling in pairs were accompanied by some respectable-looking female.
And everywhere he looked there were gentlemen—and less-than-gentlemen—on the prowl. Both Clarissa andIsobel attracted a great deal of masculine interest. Leo made a note of those he recognized and resolved to learn about those he didn’t. Several gazetted fortune hunters clustered around Clarissa; obviously news of her inheritance was out, blast it. Thankfully Clarissa made no effort to encourage any of them; in fact she looked a little uncomfortable.
Leo’s role here was to stand close by and look grim and forbidding, which exactly suited his mood.
By far the largest group made for Isobel, mostly elegant young bucks, callow boys whom he decided were harmless. But there were a number of older men—men in their thirties and forties—some titled, most wealthy, some married and some widowed. And a good many jaded older rakes. Leo didn’t like the look of any of them.
Isobel laughed and flirted and chatted happily with them all. Even Lord Giddings, who had tracked her down again.
