“The more fashionably late we are, the better,” was all he said, though, and Alexandra relaxed a little. Perhaps the devil meant to behave himself this evening, after all. If that was the case, it would be the first time he’d done so, but after that kiss she was certainly willing to give him the benefit of her wavering doubt.
Chapter 6
Lucien considered riding his horse to the Howard soiree and leaving the females to follow in the coach: Not having to listen to the Delacroix ladies prattle for half an hour was tempting. Even more appealing, though, was the notion of Miss Gallant cooped in the small passengers’ compartment with him—two additional relations present or not.
And so he sat beside Aunt Fiona as the coach rumbled toward Clifford Street and Howard House. With Mrs. Delacroix’s orange hair hidden beneath a beige hat and her rotund figure disguised inside a stylish rust and beige evening gown, she could almost pass for an aristocratic matriarch—as long as she didn’t open her mouth.
Once he’d dumped Rose and Fiona into the care of Miss Gallant and their hosts, Lucien intended to busy himself elsewhere. Not gaming, drinking, or slipping away for a smoke, though—he’d save those pleasures for later in the Season, after he’d secured a bride.
At an event this deathly boring, several respectable females were likely to be present, and Lady Howard had invited at least two of the prospective brides from Mr. Mullins’s list. A little tête-à-tête with a proper female should prove—to him and to Miss Gallant—that once a woman scented money and a title, she would happily marry a crooked old fence post, much less him.
Across from him, Rose and Alexandra talked in low voices, no doubt going through one last rehearsal before they arrived. He didn’t envy Alexandra her task, though she seemed to have more than enough fortitude to see it through. Thank Lucifer they weren’t trying to marry Aunt Fiona off again. He doubted he had enough money to convince the governess to see to that job.
Though he hated to admit it, Miss Gallant had been correct on at least one count—he should never have encouraged her to wear a Madame Charbonne gown. It had nothing to do with her complaint that she didn’t look like a governess, though she didn’t. It was simply that he couldn’t keep his eyes, or his overheated imagination, off her.
“Is there anyone in particular to whom you wish to present Rose this evening?” Alexandra asked, meeting his gaze.
“My friend Robert Ellis, the Viscount of Belton, will likely be attending. He’s been curious to meet cousin Rose.”
Alexandra’s gaze sharpened. “And why is he so curious?”
From her expression, she had guessed the answer to that, or at least she thought she had. “Why should he not be?” he returned coolly, daring her to accuse him of something improper. “Wouldn’t you be curious to meet the Earl of Kilcairn Abbey’s only living relations?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she answered grudgingly. “Though you don’t seem to encourage discussion of that topic.”
Lucien narrowed his eyes. “Don’t I?”
“No, you d—”
“Why shouldn’t this Lord Belton be curious about my daughter?” Fiona cut in. “She’s an angel. You should be happy to show her off to your friends.”
“Is the Viscount of Belton unmarried?” Rose asked, chewing her lower lip.
At least she seemed to want to be married and out of his care as much as he wanted her to be. “Unmarried and looking for just the right female to change that circumstance,” he answered.
“Of course, that is not the purpose of this evening, is it, Lord Kilcairn?” Alexandra said stoutly.
“Do we have another purpose?” he asked, giving her a skeptical glance. “I know this isn’t for my health.”
“Yes, we do have another purpose. Rose,” Miss Gallant said, turning to his cousin, “please remember that tonight is just to get you comfortable with gatherings of theton. One thing at a time. It will be a small, informal party, as Lord Kilcairn has told us. You will have time for chatting, but you mustn’t let any one person—male or female—monopolize your attention.”
Lucien hid a slight grin. “Do I get to monopolize anyone’s attention?”
“I’m sure you may do as you please, my lord.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
Alexandra blushed. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, I’m so nervous I doubt I’ll be able to say a word,” Rose put in.
“We can only hope the occasion will equally affect your mother.” He slouched, annoyed. He should have had Rose and Fiona ride horses, so he and Alexandra could converse undisturbed.
“My Rose will show herself very well,” Fiona stated, “and everyone will know how proud we are of her.” She adjusted her elbow-length gloves. “Though I do wish that Charbonne woman had thought to add feathers to her ensemble. Feathers in the hair add such a touch of elegance, you know.”
“Perhaps on a more formal occasion,” Alexandra soothed.
“Or a trip to the London zoo.” Lucien brushed aside the window curtains and glanced out at the growing darkness. “No doubt the headgear would impress the baboons. You might want to stay clear of the ostrich pen, though. Bad form, to stare at an animal when you may be wearing one of its relations.”
