Page 16 of The Rake's Daughter
Was she after marriage and respectability? Not an unreasonable desire for a baseborn woman, he supposed. With her looks she could easily find a husband, even without a dowry or any kind of fortune.
But surely she wasn’t so naive as to imagine she could enter society along with her half sister? He obviously hadn’t made that clear enough to her. To them.
He scanned the garden again. Where the hell had they gone? The garden was thickly planted and crisscrossed with pathways, and he knew if he went searching for them, it would end up as a wild-goose chase. Damned if he’d chase after them.
At his feet was a cleared patch of earth where a single weed was growing. He was no gardener, but he knew that once a weed got established, it could take over. He pulled it out and tossed it aside.
He straightened, hearing the murmur of feminine voices and a laugh or two. “Miss Studley?” he called. Silence. They’d heard him, then. He raised his voice and called again.
Just as he was about to give up and leave them to the fruits of their folly, they appeared.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Salcott,” Miss Studley exclaimed breathlessly. “First I lost track of time and then I was lost—so many paths winding around. Butoh, this garden is so very beautiful. I will be so much happier living in London now I have this place to refresh myself in.”
He glanced at Isobel Burton. Her creamy complexion glowed in the fresh air, a faint, wild-rose flush tinting her cheeks. She’d taken off her hat. Dark tendrils danced in the breeze.
Catching him staring, she lifted her chin, her expression otherwise unreadable. Had she told her half sister about their conversation? Thegrubby little bribe? He couldn’t tell.
She moistened her lips with a sweep of her small pink tongue. He wrenched his gaze off her. “My aunt’s house is over there. Come along. She will be expecting you.” Matteo had directed the girls’ carriage to her address, and their luggage would already be transferred to their bedchambers.
This time, since his aunt had already been warned, he entered through the back door. The moment they passed into the main part of the house, they were besieged by the usual host of yappy little dogs. Both girls fell to their knees, laughing as they embraced the excited little beasts.
He looked up to find his aunt standing in the hallway, watching with a benevolent smile. “I like these gels of yours,” she told him. “They show a great deal of sense.”
They weren’t “his girls,” nor did he think kneeling on a cold floor to allow a bunch of excitable little mongrels to jump all over them and dirty their dresses was particularly sensible, but since little Biddy had limped painfully out with the others and was now sitting at his feet gazing adoringly up at him, he could hardly argue.
He scooped up the pathetic little creature and followed his aunt and the girls into the sitting room—the other dogs frolicking around the girls’ ankles.
Eyeing the little dog in his arms, Isobel Burton gave him an odd sideways look and quirked an eyebrow. Leo ignored her. If he wanted to carry around a battered little scrap ofcanine refuse, he would. It was nobody’s business but his own.
His aunt called for tea and sandwiches. “They’ve already had tea and cakes,” he told her. He didn’t think he could stand the sight of Isobel Burton lavishing her attention on another cream cake.
Aunt Olive dismissed that with an airy wave. “Pooh, young gels are always hungry. Besides, whatever they don’t eat, the dogs will.” She produced her lorgnette and scrutinized the girls. “Well, missy, it’s easy to tell whoyourfather was,” she said to Miss Burton. “Dreadful man. My commiserations.”
“On his death?” Miss Burton asked.
“Good God, no—that’s grounds for congratulations, I would have thought. I meant commiserations on having him for a father. I imagine he made an appalling parent. Always said he should have been drowned at birth. Same for this fellow’s father.” She jerked a thumb at Leo and added impatiently, “Well, don’t dillydally, boy. Introduce us. Which gel is which? I can’t keep calling them ‘missy’ or ‘you there.’ ”
Leo introduced them, and then his aunt introduced each dog by name—not that Leo remembered which was which, apart from the one on his lap—and they all took their seats, the two girls sitting side by side on a chaise longue.
The females made chitchat. The butler and a maidservant brought in tea trays, one of which contained a plate of biscuits and a dish of dainty triangular sandwiches. The dogs, scenting the food, immediately assumed the saintly and pathetic mien of dogs on the verge of starvation.
Leo let the conversation wash over him. He was very aware of Isobel Burton’s gaze touching on him from time to time. He was damnably aware of her. And how the hell could she unsettle him merely by being in the same room? It was... disturbing.
He watched as she leaned forward, selected a tinysandwich, and bit off a small neat bite. She chewed meditatively, swallowed, then sipped her tea.
And why, wondered Leo furiously, should that be so compelling? It was a perfectly ordinary sandwich. He took one and ate it in two bites. Ham. Nothing special.
His aunt was on one of her usual rants. Apparently, Sir Bartleby had never allowed the girls any kind of pet, which she condemned as heartless and verging on the villainous.
Isobel Burton’s vivid green eyes danced as she agreed solemnly that yes, it was quite unforgivable in a parent.
He dropped his gaze—she was too knowing, that one—and found himself watching in fascination as her long, slender fingers caressed the ears of one of the little dogs.
The girls told some sort of story about how they’d tried to tame one of the barn cats, but it was perfectly wild and would never allow them to get near enough. They told the tale together, finishing each other’s sentences. Miss Studley’s voice was light and breathy; Miss Burton’s was mesmerizing, low and melodious.
“Oh well, cats,” his aunt said, disgusted. “You should have had a puppy.” And she went into another long rant about the glory of dogs.
Isobel Burton’s fingers caressed the dog’s silky ears. She glanced at him again, and caught him watching her. Her gaze briefly dropped to the small creature on his own lap, then returned to eye him thoughtfully.
