Page 29 of The Rake's Daughter
“Aunt Olive, Miss Isobel is abastard,” Leo said, goaded.
His aunt stared at him a moment. “Oh, what nonsense. She’s a delightful gel, apart from her unfortunate resemblance to Sir Bartleby. And why should that prevent her from making her come-out with Clarissa? It’s not as if she has her father’s appalling personality. Not that I understand why any young gel would want to make her come-out. The Marriage Mart?” She shuddered. “Dreadful institution. But I suppose if the gels want it...” She looked at them. They nodded eagerly, and she made a helpless gesture. “See, lambs to the slaughter. I wash my hands of them.”
Leo tried one more time. “Society would be outraged if we tried to introduce Miss Isobel into the ton.”
“ ‘We’? I’m not planning to introduce her anywhere, dear boy. You know I’ve given up on all that flimflam. I don’t know why you wanted me to be present at this discussion anyway.” She rose from her chair, releasing a small avalanche of shawls. “I cannot believe I cut short a lovely long hot bath for this—”
“I wanted you here because I wish to make an announcement.”
She sat reluctantly. “Then for heaven’s sake make it, dear boy, and stop wittering on about breeding gels and storks and cabbage leaves. Nasty stuff, cabbage. Never touch it myself.”
Leo persisted. “I am going to the country for a short time. I need to visit my estate and—”
“Well, you don’t need my permission for that,” his aunt said.
“I am not asking anyone’s permission,” he ground out.
“Well then—”
Giving up on his aunt, he turned to Miss Studley with a stern look. “Miss Studley, you told me that if you could not make your come-out with your half sister, then you did not wish to make it at all. That either you would both come out together, or neither of you would. Is that correct?”
“Yes, and—”
“So be it.” He cut her off crisply. “As long as you both continue to cling to that nonsense, it will be neither of you.” He paused an instant to let that sink in, then continued. “As yet I have made no arrangements for your come-out, have found no suitable lady to sponsor you or to accompany you to appropriatetonevents. While I am away you may reflect on your choice and reconsider its wisdom. In the meantime you will attend no society events; no balls, routs or ridottos; no—”
Miss Isobel leaned forward. “Whatisa ridotto, Lord Salcott?”
He stared blankly at her.A ridotto?How the hell would he know? He’d done his best to avoid that kind of society event. Except for his travels he’d spent most of his adult life on his estate. Suddenly noticing that his eyes were dwelling on how creamy and soft her bosom was and how enticingly it was exposed when she leaned forward, he immediately snapped his gaze to an amateurish portrait of a pug on the wall.
“I have never attended a ridotto,” he told the pug. “And neither will you,” he added to Miss Studley. “Not unless you reconsider your position.”
“But that’s not fa—” Miss Studley began. Her half sister grabbed her hand, and Miss Studley stopped in midsentence.
“Are you saying Lady Scattergood is not a suitable lady?” Miss Burton asked in a dulcet voice. Honey-dark and sweet as sin. He did not look at her. Or her bosom. Or her lips.
“Eh? What?” His aunt directed an indignant lorgnette in his direction.
“Of course I’m not saying that,” Leo said. “My aunt is, of course, a perfect lady.”
“So she can take us about?” Miss Burton almost purred.
“Naturally,” Leo said with a sardonic smile in the direction of the pug. Apparently, Miss Burton had not yet noticed that his aunt went nowhere and socialized with nobody. He almost wished he could be there to see her face when she finally realized it.
Except he had resolved not to look at her. Race was right. She had a tendency to turn his brain to mush.
“What about shopping?” Miss Studley asked. “Can we go shopping?”
He shrugged. It made no difference to him. “I already said you could.” He gently dislodged a small scruffy dog from his boot and moved toward the door.
“Wait,” Miss Burton said.
Leo hid a smile. Second thoughts already. It was as he thought; once they realized he was serious, they would fall into line. He turned. “Yes?”
“What about horses?” Miss Burton said.
He blinked. “Horses? You girls ride?”
“No,” Miss Burton said sweetly, “but it might be fun to fall off. We might even find a husband that way. Lady-in-distress kind of thing.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
