“He understands,” said Papa. “Eligible men, of course. He’ll know who’s most suitable, in the circumstances.”
“Eligible men,” said Marchmont.
“We shall give Zoe an opportunity to dip her toes into the social waters in a small way, among those disposed to accept her, before she tackles the mob at the Queen’s House.”
“Dip her toes, yes,” Marchmont said. “I beg your pardon if I seem preoccupied. I quite agree, and I should be happy to help you with the guest list, but the present time is inconvenient. Zoe and I have an appointment to see a man about a horse. Then we must have her measured for a saddle and riding habits.”
“Ah, yes,” said Papa, “I meant to attend to that. We had a bit of a to-do yesterday, I understand. Threw Priscilla into a panic. But Zoe always did that, I reminded her. You remember, don’t you, Marchmont?”
“Yes.”
“You needn’t worry about the horse, Papa,” Zoe said. “Marchmont will take care of that. But he’s right. We cannot stop now. I must change out of these contraptions.”
“In any event, I should want some time to decide exactly who merits the honor of meeting Zoe before the Queen does,” said Marchmont. “I’ll send a list tomorrow.”
“Splendid,” said Papa. He clapped Marchmont on the shoulder. “Well, then, run along, Zoe. Mustn’t keep the horses waiting.”
“I beg you,don’t run,” said Marchmont. “But do make haste.”
There was only one man in all the world whose opinion and respect meant anything to Marchmont.
To debauch that man’s daughter—under his roof!—was the act of the most swinish of scoundrels.
He and Zoe had had a narrow escape. The error must not be repeated. Marchmont must be on his guard against her at all times, because she was not going to guard herself.
Besides, she wanted to meet other men.
Marchmont stuffed the hooped petticoats and the frothy silk gown into the special mental cupboard. He stuffed the low-cut bodice there, too. He shut the door and turned his mind firmly to Zoe’s horse and saddle and habit.
She wanted to meet other men, and rightly so.
Her only trouble was an inability to say no.
She simply needed close chaperonage.
She must have realized this, because when she came downstairs a miraculously short time later, she had her maid with her, armed with the ever-present umbrella.
He and Zoe behaved with unfailing correctness all the way to Tattersall’s and during the time they spent there. They did not relax propriety for an instant, all the time at the saddlery and thereafter, during the purchase of a dozen riding dresses, the first of which was promised for Monday.
The errands completed, Marchmont took an immaculately polite leave of her and she of him.
Then he went home and drove himself mad selecting and discarding the names of eligible gentlemen. After which he dressed and went out and got very drunk.
The following morning, while nursing a headache, he tore up the list and wrote another one. He tore that up and wrote another. Two dozen tries later, he summoned a footboy to deliver the list of recommended invitees to Lord Lexham.
Marchmont did not return to Lexham House. She didn’t need him, he told himself. Her sisters would ready her for the presentation.
Perhaps he’d see her at the dinner party. If he decided to go. If he had nothing better to do. He wouldn’t be needed there. Her parents could watch her well enough. She’d get no opportunities to not say no.
She wanted to meet other men. She was quite right. It was perfectly reasonable. He should have thought of it himself, in fact.
He did not ask himself why he hadn’t.
Nine
Lexham House
Evening of Thursday, 16 April
