Christian inclined his head toward her. Mrs. Goatsocks certainly knew who was who in London Society. This was also the woman who hadn’t allowed an eighteen-year-old to run off alone and instead had risked her own safety and comfort to go with her. And he had a question for her.
“Why didn’t you talk her out of it?”
Mrs. Goatsocks’s face remained completely blank. “Talk who out of what?”
“Talk Lady Sarah out of leaving London?”
Mrs. Goatsocks’s gaze flickered slightly. It was the only crack in her otherwise impenetrable armor. “How do you know I didn’t try to talk her out of it?”
“I get the distinct impression that you can be quite stubborn when you set your mind to something, and I doubt greatly that yours wouldn’t be a match for Lady Sarah’s stubbornness.”
The chaperone pursed her lips. “You can tell that after having spent less than a quarter hour in my presence?”
Christian inclined his head again. “Am I wrong?”
A few seconds ticked by before Mrs. Goatsocks said evenly, “You are not.”
Christian allowed the hint of a smile to touch his lips. He liked this Mrs. Goatsocks. Liked her immensely. “Then I’ll ask again. Why didn’t you talk her out of it?”
Mrs. Goatsocks flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the waist of her plum-colored gown. “You’re astute, my lord, I’ll give you that. Suffice it to say I didn’t disagree with her reasons for leaving. But I am employed by the Earl of Highfield as a chaperone, and I’d be derelict in my duties if I were to allow his only daughter to run off to Scotland unattended.”
“Lady Sarah speaks highly of you.”
“And I, her. She is a special young lady.”
“I am here to ask for your blessing for my taking Lady Sarah to Northumbria to meet the Duchess of Claringdon. Do you give it?”
Mrs. Goatsocks lifted her chin a bit higher. “Something tells me that you’ll take her there regardless of whether I give my blessing.”
Christian scratched the back of his neck. “Lady Sarah values your approval a great deal. She asked me to secure it. She doesn’t want to leave you here.”
Mrs. Goatsocks straightened her already straight shoulders. She stared across the room into the fireplace. “I am not happy that my charge is no longer my charge. But I am taken ill and cannot adequately perform my duties. Lady Sarah’s reputation is of the utmost importance to me. Knowing that she will be traveling alone with a gentleman concerns me, but if you say your friends are meeting you and they will be tasked with her chaperonage once they arrive, I might be persuaded.…”
“You have my word,” Christian said.
“Very well. I see little other choice. I suppose I don’t have to ask you for your discretion in this matter.”
“Lady Sarah has done me a good turn. I owe her my allegiance.”
The chaperone merely raised her eyebrows at that. “Very well, then. You have my blessing. You may inform Lady Sarah as much. But first allow me to apprise you of how sorely you will regret it if you do anything untoward or indecent to Her Ladyship. You shall havemeto contend with. Do I make myself clear?”
Christian bowed, hiding his smile. No doubt this woman had made many a young swain cower in his boots. “You have my word as a gentleman on that score as well. She will be treated with nothing but my absolute respect and admiration.”
“See to it that she is,” Mrs. Goatsocks said imperiously. The effect was a bit ruined, however, by her wincing at the movement of her ankle on the sofa.
“Depending upon what Lucy Hunt decides is best, we might have to adjust your travel plans later, but for the time being, you’ll remain here. We’ll write to you as soon as we settle on a course of action.”
“So, the duchess is in charge of this plan, is she?”
“Do you know her?” Christian asked.
“Not personally, of course, but I daresay everyone knowsofher.”
Christian hid his smile behind his fist as he raised the back of his hand to his mouth. “Trust me when I tell you she is quite good at such things. If anyone can, Lucy will come up with the best way to attempt to return Sarah to London with as little scandal and gossip as possible.”
The chaperone’s face was a mask. He had no idea of her feelings until she said, “I’m trusting you, Viscount. Do not let me down.”
“I won’t.” Christian turned to leave, but Mrs. Goatsocks’s voice stopped him.
