“I’d like to wear perfume,” Celia said.
“I thought I would join your safeguarding lessons today.” This announcement was met with two gaping mouths. “If you wouldn’t mind, of course.”
“That would be lovely, Mama,” Irene said. Her gaze moved over Ginny’s morning dress in a somber and critical assessment. “You might wish to change.”
“Passez the café, síl vous plait,” Celia said with perfect French inflection.
With a formal bow, Brock considered his youngest student. “Lady Cecilia, how are we this fine day?” She appeared attired for a vigorous lesson one would expect at Gentleman Jack’s or piracy on the high seas. She had donned a shirt of snowy white. The shock was in the replacement of her skirt withknickers. “Where on earth did you locate…?” On a choked laugh, he waved out a hand, indicating her masculine dress.
Cecilia spun about and put one leg forward, bending at the waist in a bow reminiscent of the Renaissance era. “Do you like them?” She leaned in and whispered, “I stole them from one of the stable boys. I got them for Irene too.”
Irene entered right then, which was the most shocking of all. The proper Irene. In knickers. He looked her over, trying to find some sign that she had sprung from his seed. The only similarity remotely close was the gray color of her eyes. And, for the life of him, he could not remember if the late Maudsley’s were the same. He shook away the thoughts. “Are we ready, then?”
Both girls stood there staring at him with widened gazes.
Hesitating, he said, “Ladies? Is there a problem?”
Cecilia’s hand flew up and covered her mouth, while Irene stood straight and strong, and blinked—once. How curious. The skin at the back of Brock’s neck pricked, and he slowly pivoted to the door.
“Lady Maudsley?” he said on a strangled cough. She strolled in, dressed similarly to her daughters. Only her daughters hadn’t their mother’s curves. Rather than knickers, Ginny wore pantaloons that molded every arc of her shapely hips and thighs. “What the devil are you wearing?”
The girls gasped at his blasphemy.
She pulled up short, her expression suddenly doubtful. “I thought I would participate in your safeguarding instructions…” Her voice trailed off in a whisper.
Brock gave himself a mental shake. Of course she wished to participate. Hadn’t she said as much the night before? He liked the idea of Ginny being able to protect herself from riffraff and scoundrels with nefarious or unwanted intentions.
“Tell her about the hoodwinkers,” Cecilia bellowed.
“I should like to hear more about them as well,” Irene said. She spoke firmly, her hands folded before her.
“An ideal place to begin,” Brock murmured, leading the way to the seating area.
“Yesterday, we learned about mean people trying to trick us with a hurt dog or kitty,” Cecilia said.
“Er, yes.” Brock cleared his throat. “It’s important to realize, people with degenerate intentions—”
“What’s ‘d’gnrate’?” Celia asked.
“Bad,” Irene responded. “Carry on, sir.”
“Yes, well. People withbadintentions will say many things to convince someone into a dangerous situation. For example, they may offer you a sweetmeat to lure you away from your intended destination. Or ask you directions to someplace, enticing you to a busy street corner.”
Irene nodded with her normally intense, contemplative face. Ginny’s lips were compressed, her eyes expressing a solemn overpowering emotion. Fear. She was terrified.
“I do so love sweetmeats,” Cecilia said.
Ginny opened her mouth to respond. Nothing of which would prove helpful, he thought.
“As do most of us,” Brock interrupted smoothly. “The most important thing to remember is to never accept something, anything, from someone you don’t know.”
“Or trust. Don’t take anything from anyone you don’t trust,” Ginny said. Her voice trembled, and Brock respected her fear and her need to communicate. He could tell she was thinking of her late husband.
“Yes, your mother is correct. Not all villains are people you don’t know. Many hide in plain sight.”
Cecilia’s brows beetled with her frown.
Irene took her hand. “Well, I don’t trust Lord Griston,” she said.
