Page 18 of When the Rogue Returns
He stiffened. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly for me tosay.”
Her heart stumbled. “I need to know.”
“Oh, all right. She forbade me to invite you to the house party. And I told her that I wanted you there.” A mulish look crossed his face. “I reminded her that I am lord of Kinlaw Castle, so I can invite whomever I please. So we compromised. She said I should bring you to the theater tonight, and she would judge for herself whether you could behave with propriety in good society. If you could, she wouldn’t make a fuss over your coming to the house party.”
Isa gaped at him. Lady Lochlaw never ceased to amaze her. The woman had one set of rules for her son and an entirely different set for herself. “I don’t need to attend your house party. Don’t invite me, and make your mother happy.”
With a dark scowl, he flicked the reins. “I can’t abide those things. If it weren’t a family tradition, I’d refuse to have it. But if I do that, everyone will assume there’s some horrible reason. We’ve only just recovered from the most recent outlandish tales about Mother.”
Lady Lochlaw was rumored to have been caught in the bed of a notorious local rakehell, who happened to be married. Isa suspected that it was every bit the truth. Of course, Rupert didn’t want to hear that. She wasn’t even sure he would understand it. She wasn’t always surewhathe understood.
“I need you to be there,” he went on. “Otherwise, I’ll go mad with all the inanity.”
She laughed. “Is that even a word?”
“Of course, and you should add it to your vocabulary, as it describes half of what Mother calls ‘good society.’ Ihategood society; all they ever do is gossip. I never know whom they’re discussing, and I never care, either. If I have to hear one more word about who is sneaking where with whom, I will shoot myself.”
“You will not. You don’t even like to go shooting at your estate.”
“True.” He slumped in the driver’s seat, then shot her a sidelong glance. “Why do you ask if Mother knows about Amalie?”
She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. But Rupert never let go of a topic until he’d squeezed the facts out of it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell him the truth; that she didn’t want his mother revealing Amalie’s existence to Victor. That Victor might use his rights as Amalie’s father to force Isa into something.
“I like my privacy as much as you.” She smiled thinly. “Why do you think I live so far out of town? If your mother knew about my daughter, she might say mean things about Amalie just to anger me. I can’t have that.”
“I understand.” He sighed. “Amalie is a sweet girl—I’d hate for her feelings to be hurt by anybody.” The baron had only met Amalie a few times, but he’d always been kind to her. “Don’t worry; I won’t mention anything about her to Mother if you don’t want me to.”
“Or to your cousin, either,” she prodded as he pulled up in front of the cottage and helped her down.
“Whatever you wish,” he said, though he watched her with burgeoning curiosity while securing his horses to a tree.
Avoiding his gaze, she hurried toward the cottage and prayed he would keep his promise. When Rupert was thinking of some new experiment, he paid no attention to anything. Just as Father used to do.
A lump filled her throat. She did have a fondness for oblivious men of science.
Before she was halfway up the walk, Amalie burst through the cottage door. “Mama, can I pack my new hat to bring to school with me tomorrow?”
“MayI pack my new hat,” Isa corrected her.
Making a face, Amalie fell into step beside her. “MayI? It goes so well with my pink gown.”
Rupert joined them. “Is that the gown with the spiders on it?”
“They’re notspiders,my lord!” Amalie protested. “They’re little fleurs-de-lis!”
“They seemed awfully spidery to me when I saw them last week. I’m not saying that’s bad. I happen to like spiders.”
Planting her hands on her hips, Amalie gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You’re only saying that to torture me, since you know that I loathe spiders.”
“Then why wear something that looks like them on your gowns?” he asked in all seriousness.
“They do not look—” She broke off with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why we are even talking about this.” One eyebrow shot up as she scanned his eccentric attire. “Clearly I know more about fashion than you, sir.”
“Amalie!” Isa chided. “Don’t be impudent to his lordship.”
“She’s right.” Rupert grinned. “Fashion is not my purview. I prefer atoms to cravats any day.”
Amalie eyed him askance. “How many men named Adam do you know, anyway? You’re always going on about the Adams, but I’ve only ever met one in my whole life.”
