Page 57 of The Rake's Daughter
His jaw ached from smiling and pretending to feel pleasantly host-like and hospitable when he actually felt like punching someone, preferably one of those callow young idiots clustering around Isobel Burton, or better still those older jaded roués who edged too damned close, eyeing her with speculative interest.
And where had Race disappeared to? His supposedly good friend, who’d allowed this party to go ahead knowing full well Leo had forbidden the girls to attend any society entertainments, and yet had failed to inform Leo of whatwas happening. Race certainly deserved a punch on the nose. He knew his crime, too, for he’d managed to avoid Leo all evening.
“Lord Salcott?”
He turned to find a plump, dark-haired, fussily dressed matron beaming familiarly. A younger version of herself stood by her side, smiling coquettishly up at him. He sighed and tried to plaster a polite expression on his face.
“Mrs. Gertrude Harrington, Lord Salcott, and this is my daughter Millicent,” the woman prompted him, adding with delicate emphasis, “MissMillicent Harrington. We’re your neighbors.” She waved in the direction of one of the other houses that bordered the garden.
Leo bowed and murmured a greeting.
“Delightful to meet you at long last, your lordship, isn’t it, Milly dear?”
The girl simpered. “Yes, Mama. How do you do, your lordship?”
“Such an oddity of life in the city that one may live a stone’s throw from a dear neighbor and yet never see each other,” the woman said.
An advantage of city living that had only just occurred to Leo.
“And such a delightfully unusual party. I wonder how you gained permission to hold it here in our gardens—there has never been anything like this held before, and as far as I know, none of the other residents were consulted,” she said, sour beneath her smiles.
Ah. Leo would no doubt receive a raft of complaints from the neighbors in the morning. Delightful.
Her smile widened. “But what does that matter when you have such a distinguished collection of guests gathered here? Her grace and I were chatting with the countess earlier. They were both very complimentary about Milly’s new hairstyle—weren’t they, Milly darling?—but I’m not so sure.” She laid a hand on Leo’s arm. “What do you think,your lordship? You gentlemen are so much better than we ladies at knowing what suits us.” The woman eyed him expectantly; the daughter preened and tried to manufacture a blush. Leo edged away. The woman’s grasp of his arm tightened.
“I’m afraid I never notice such things,” he said bluntly.
The woman and her daughter laughed delightedly as if he’d uttered some brilliant witticism. “Oh, indeed, your lordship, so true. How delightfully masculine. And shall we see you at Almack’s in the near future? We have vouchers, you know. As I was saying to the princess just now, it is such a relief knowing that the patronesses insist on absolute exclusivity, and we are protected from the importunities of—”
Leo fixed his gaze on a bush over her shoulder. “Excuse me, madam, Miss um, I must speak to Mr.—oh, there he is.” He bowed curtly and strode away looking decisive.
He’d invented the fellow he was supposedly looking for, but as luck would have it, he came upon Race. He pounced on him and drew him into a secluded corner. “What the devil are you doing here, Judas?”
Race delicately detached Leo’s grip from his coat and smoothed the crumpled fabric. “Hands off, barbarian, this coat is new. What was the question again? Oh yes, why am I here? Because you invited me.”
“You know perfectly well I did no such blasted thing. I knew nothing about this affair. Why didn’t you warn me what the girls were up to?”
Race shrugged. “None of my business, is it, old chap? I’m not their guardian, am I?”
“I’m not theirguardian at all, only Clarissa’s.”
Race gave a knowing smile.
“What?” Leo snapped.
Race gave him an innocent look. “Nothing. Just that Miss Isobel is the first young woman in which you’ve shown an interest since Lavinia What’s-her-name.”
His words caused a curl of irritation in Leo’s belly. “Nonsense,” he said brusquely. “I have no interest in that young woman.” It was a lie: she was rapidly becoming an obsession. But he didn’twantto have an interest in her. That way madness—or at least danger—lay.
All the way back to London he’d been thinking kind thoughts of her, unjustly condemned by her father, loved by those who truly knew her. But now, here in this fragrant evening garden, luminous by lamplight, and in her element among the distinguished guests—it wasn’t just her flagrant disregard of his instructions, but her lighthearted, mischievous,triumphantresponse to his anger. It drove him wild.
And the knowledge that he wanted her regardless drove him even wilder.
“I’m merely doing my duty—my unasked-for and unwelcome duty—by her half sister.”
Race smirked. “Of course you are.”
Ignoring the annoying smirk, Leo returned to the issue at hand. “Which is why I asked you to keep an eye on them while I was away.”
