Page 104 of The Heiress's Daughter
“No, of course not,” Leo said indignantly.
“Well, don’t look at me like that—I didn’t start this nonsense. Nor do I like it.” A thought occurred to him. “Butnow you’ve raised the matter, it partially explains a conversation I had with la Windthrop last week, the night before I left town. We were chatting, and suddenly she leaned closer and in a low voice, right out of the blue, asked my opinion of tattoos—just asked me, straight out, what I thought about them. Which was nothing to do with whatever we’d been talking about.”
“What did you tell her?”
He shrugged. “That sailors and others of that ilk were welcome to them. And then she said, ‘So you’d never get one?’ and I said, ‘Of course not,’ and she exclaimed ‘Aha!’ in aEureka!kind of way, and rushed off.”
Leo pondered that for a moment. “Odd.”
“Damned odd.” Worse than odd, it had the potential to be disastrous. He hoped Clarissa never got to hear of such indelicate and bizarre speculations about him. She’d be mortified.
A footman came in, refurbished the fire and refilled their glasses. When he’d gone, Race said, “This blasted speculation has got to stop.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Perhaps when the next person asks whether it’s a birthmark or a tattoo you could explain to them that I have neither.”
Leo gave him a sardonic look. “If you think that I have any intention of assuring anyone of the pristine state of your arse, Randall, you’ve got rats in your attic. Big ones.”
That same Wednesday evening, Clarissa was getting ready to go to Almack’s. Lord Randall had said he’d be back in London by tomorrow. Clarissa couldn’t wait.
Izzy appeared at Clarissa’s bedroom door. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, almost, but I thought we were meeting downstairs in”—she glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece—“twenty minutes.”
“We are but first I have something to tell you. Something I think you’ll want to hear.” She turned to Betty. “Thank you, Betty, I’ll help my sister with anything that needs to be done now.”
Betty ran a critical eye over Izzy and gave a brisk nod. “Did Joan do your hair?”
Izzy smiled and did a quick twirl around. “Yes, it’s very elegant, don’t you think? You’ve done a good job training her. I’m very pleased.” She gave Betty a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now do run along, dear Betty. I need to speak to my sister.”
“All in good time, milady.” First Betty picked out a shawl, draped it over Clarissa’s shoulders and tweaked it into place. Izzy was practically jumping up and down, but Betty, having grown up with both girls, ignored her as she made a minor adjustment to Clarissa’s hair. She was a perfectionist and wouldn’t allow Clarissa to go out looking anything less than her best. Finally she wished them both an enjoyable evening, winked at Clarissa and left.
“What is it that couldn’t wait, Izzy?” Clarissa was excited herself. She could think of only one thing that would have her sister bouncing in anticipation like this. Was she expecting a baby?
Izzy’s eyes sparkled. “Remember my plan to find out the truth about Lord Randall’s rakishness?”
A trickle of foreboding ran down Clarissa’s spine. “The one we decided not to follow?”
“You decided, I didn’t.”
“Izzy, you didn’t!”
Izzy laughed, clearly delighted with herself. “I did. Oh, don’t look at me like that—you need to know whether you can trust him or not. And it worked brilliantly! First I made a list of every society lady who was reputed to have had an affair with Lord Randall.”
Clarissa closed her eyes. “Oh, Izzy,” she groaned. “How could you?”
“Don’t fret, there were only about twelve or thirteen. Anyway I started on the night of the rout, last week. I asked every one of them the same question.”
Clarissa sat up, horrified. “You didn’t ask them straight out, did you?”
“Of course not. Where’s the cleverness in that? Anyway they’d only deny it, only with that knowing sort of look some of them do, you know, denying it in words but their expression telling quite another story, implying all sorts of things.”
“Go on.” She dreaded to hear what thisclevernesswas.
“We told them it was to settle a wager.”
“We? Who’s ‘we’?”
