Clarissa looked doubtful. “It’s not very chaperone-y, is it?”
“Not at all,” Izzy agreed. “Which makes her the perfect chaperone.”
Clarissa’s jaw dropped. “Izzy! How can you say such a thing? Apart from throwing us at men and telling us to kiss any we fancy, she seems to have no interest in watching over us at all.”
“She’s made sure we have partners for every dance,” Izzy pointed out.
“Yes, while she’s off dancing and flirting madly herself, instead of watching us.”
Izzy grinned. “As I said, she’s perfect.”
Clarissa laughed. “Well, I suppose she doesn’t interfere with us too much.”
“Exactly. And her frankness is refreshing. Imagine if we had someone like Milly’s mother chaperoning us, bleating on endlessly about what we must and mustn’t do.” Izzy shuddered. “We wouldn’t have a moment of peace.”
“Oh, but”—Clarissa twirled an imaginary curl—“she is second cousin to a duke, you know.”
Izzy laughed. “Yes, it’s lovely to be able to enjoy ourselves without having someone breathing down our necks.”
“You mean because Lord Salcott isn’t here?”
“Oh, isn’t he?” Izzy said innocently. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Clarissa laughed.
***
I suppose you’re feeling quite relieved,” Race said. The two friends had met for dinner at their club.
Leo looked up. He’d been miles away, brooding into his glass. The Studley sisters and their chaperone had gone to the Gainsborough ball. He’d decided instead to seek the comfort of an evening in purely masculine company. Peaceful. Congenial. Away from the social whirl.
But it wasn’t having quite the soothing effect he’d hoped for. He kept wondering what Isobel was doing, with whom she was dancing—and flirting. That swine Vibart, for instance. That wretched chaperone—the same one who refused to let him speak to Isobel in private—had told her she might flirt all she liked with Vibart. Talk about inconsistency.
“ ‘Relieved’? What do you mean?”
“To be free at last.”
Leo frowned. “ ‘Free’?” he repeated stupidly. Free to do what? He still hadn’t been able to talk to Isobel in private and it was driving him mad. Every time he got near her, that blasted chaperone had stuck her nose in. Even when he’d managed to walk with her in Hyde Park—which was hardly private, but he needed to speak to her—the wretched chaperone blithely thrust herself between them and hooked her arm through his.
Isobel had laughed—actually laughed. And then drifted off to join another group, leaving him stuck with the chaperone.
It was one thing to suggest to Isobel that they needed to be more discreet in public—which seemed to him to be an entirely logical move—but she seemed to take it as an order to treat him as if he were a stranger.
“Free of the more tedious of your guardianresponsibilities,” Race continued. “Having that chaperone must make your life a lot easier now you don’t have to play the eternal guard dog.”
Leo grunted.Easier? Hah!But all he said was “I do have to keep playing the guard dog. I’m getting requests for the girls’ hands already.” And that was driving him mad, too.
Race stilled. “Anyone we know?” he asked after a minute, his tone casual.
“Wasters, mostly.” And a couple of quite respectable offers from men who nevertheless weren’t nearly good enough for Isobel.
“ ‘Wasters’?” Race repeated. “You mean for Miss Studley?”
“Mmm, yes, her, too.” Leo nodded. “The usual fortune hunters.”
“And you said... what?”
Leo gave his friend a surprised look. “I refused the lot of them of course. It’s early days yet. There’s plenty of time.”
