Page 56 of The Rake's Daughter
“Your dear aunt brought your delightful Studley sisters to my literary society meetings,” an elderly lady with improbably bright red hair told him. “They were, of course, an instant success. We all adore the dear gels.” She beamed at him.
HisStudley sisters? They weren’t his at all. Nor were they “the Studley sisters.”
He wasn’t responsible for this—this travesty. He opened his mouth, ready to denounce them, to repudiate all responsibility for the party. And closed it again.
He looked for Isobel Burton among the crowd outside, but could see only Clarissa Studley, smiling and laughing, as happy as he’d ever seen her, standing with several ladies and a couple of gentlemen he didn’t recognize. Leo’s friend, Race, lurked on the edge of the group. The traitor. Why the devil hadn’t he warned Leo?
His gaze returned to Clarissa. She was his ward, his responsibility. If he disclaimed all responsibility for the party, she would be the one disgraced. As would his aunt. And it was his duty to protect Clarissa Studley. And his aunt.
He knew who was really responsible for this flagrant piece of audacity, and it galled him that he couldn’t punish her as she deserved without also humiliating the innocents involved.
Ah, there she was at last, Isobel Burton, at the center of a lively group of fashionably dressed young bloods all vying for her attention. And quite a few older ones, he observed grimly. She caught his eye and stepped away from them, deliberately placing herself between him and her half sister, cutting Clarissa off from his sight.
Elegant and lovely in a gown of the palest apricot, shelifted her chin and smiled slowly across at him, triumph in every line of her body.
Across the crowd he raised his wineglass to her in an ironic salute.
Her eyes narrowed. Her smile faltered and a line appeared between her delicate brows. Good. She was under no illusion that he was congratulating her. Still less that he was conceding victory.
No, it was a promise of things to come.
He turned away and started talking to the nearest woman. He had no idea who she was, but he didn’t care. She was both young and pretty and would provide sufficient distraction. From the corner of his eye he watched as Isobel Burton turned back to her circle of admirers, saying something that made them all laugh.
He gritted his teeth.
***
Did you see?” Clarissa murmured to Izzy. “Lord Salcott is here.”
Izzy nodded. “I know, I saw him.”
“What bad luck. I was sure he wasn’t going to return to town in time. How do you think he found out?”
Izzy shrugged, and shook her head.
“Maybe it will be all right,” Clarissa said hopefully. “He hasn’t said anything to you, has he? He saw me, but made no attempt to speak to me. And he didn’t look angry to me.”
“Oh, believe me, he was angry,” Izzy said. Furious, in fact.
“You think so?”
“I know so. But don’t let it worry you. It’s a lovely party and almost everyone came, and I, for one, have no intention of letting Lord Grumpy spoil one minute of it for me.”
Clarissa brightened. “It is a lovely party, isn’t it? Everyone is saying so. The garden looks quite magical—the Chinese lanterns were the perfect touch. They look so pretty.And hasn’t Matteo done a wonderful job organizing the food and drink? I wouldn’t have known what to do. Even Lady Scattergood is having a lovely time. I never thought we could get her out here, but Matteo’s suggestion worked a treat.”
“Matteo is a gem. Lord Salcott doesn’t deserve him.” Izzy had been observing Lord Salcott’s interactions with Matteo. He didn’t seem to be angry with him, but then he was also pretending he wasn’t angry with her, and she knew that was a lie. She would have to make it clear to him that Matteo wasn’t responsible.
But not tonight. This was her first ever party—Clarissa’s, too—and Izzy was determined that nothing and no one were going to spoil it.
The string quartet began another tune. She swayed in time with the music. Oh, how she wanted to dance, but grass and gravel paths did not lend themselves to dancing—not the proper kind of dancing they did in London. Next time she would make sure they found some way to include dancing. Perhaps they could construct a low platform over the top of the grass.
Izzy laughed at her foolish thoughts. Next time? If Lord Salcott had his way, there would be no next time. Not for her. All the more reason to enjoy herself tonight. She reached out and snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Another first—champagne.
Aware of Lord Salcott’s gaze boring into her from a distance, she turned to the nearest man and smiled.
Chapter Eight
Leo circulated through the party, smiling through gritted teeth as compliments were showered on him: how charming the Studley sisters were, how lucky he was to have the guardianship of two such sweet gels, what a delightful party it was, how ever did he come up with such an original concept—surely it was the young ladies’ idea? Such clever gels. And those Chinese lanterns, creating such an enchanting atmosphere, did he bring them back from his travels?
