"We were discussing a young woman who needs help," Estella said.
"Desperately," Thea added.
Kit's brows rose. "What sort of help?"
Estella looked at Philippa. Philippa gave the faintest nod.
"There's a young woman," Estella began. "The ton has turned against her. She's been publicly humiliated. Rejected twice, you see, and?—"
"Cast-Off Clarissa?" Kit said.
All three women looked at him.
"I heard the name at the Hartington ball." He shrugged. "Cruel business, that. I heard the full story from some chap near the card room. Fought for a clergyman, marquess refused her, clergyman married someone else while she was away." He shook his head. "Poor girl."
"Do you know her?" Philippa asked. Her nephew was not exactly shy when it came to young ladies.
But he shook his head. "I just heard the rumors. But I've never met a Lady Clarissa." To Thea, he added with a wink, "I always remember a beautiful lady."
A perplexed Thea tilted her head to the side. "Then how do you know she is beautiful?"
He leaned toward her in his seat as if letting her in on a secret. "All young ladies are beautiful in their own way. Each a flower, with her own perfume and?—"
"Alright, that's enough." Philippa turned back to Estella, but she didn't miss Kit's grin.
No one amused Kit more than Kit.
Philippa ignored the fact that her own lips were twitching as well as she addressed Estella. "What does she need from me?"
"She needs a friend," Estella said.
"She needs more than a friend," Thea argued. "She needs the ton to stop seeing her as a cautionary tale."
"And how does one accomplish that?" Kit asked. He seemed genuinely curious.
Estella looked thoughtful and her answer came slowly. "You change the story. The ton doesn't care about truth. They care about the story. If Lady Clarissa is Cast-Off Clarissa, the girl nobody wants, then the only way to undo it is to make someone want her. Publicly. Someone whose attention would make the ton reconsider."
Philippa nodded with no small amount of pride. She'd taught the girl well.
The room was quiet for a moment. Kit looked at Thea. Then at Estella. Then at Philippa.
Philippa watched him arrive at the conclusion she'd reached thirty seconds earlier.
"Someone like the heir to a dukedom," Kit said.
"Kit—" Philippa began.
"I could do it." He sat forward. The easy smile was back, but underneath it was something sharper and far more urgent. "If the duke's heir is seen publicly favoring Cast-Off Clarissa, the ton has to rewrite the story. She's not the girl nobody wants. She's the girl who caught the attention of?—"
"Absolutely not," Philippa cut in.
"Why not?" he argued.
She let out a sharp huff. "Because you are not a weapon to be deployed, and she is not some toy."
Kit held his hands up in defense. "I'm not suggesting anything untoward. I'm suggesting I be publicly pleasant to a young woman who's been treated abominably. I'll dance with her, that's all. Perhaps escort her to a few events. Let society see that she's worth the attention of someone they admire." His grin widened. "You did say I should dance with young ladies and make myself useful."
"I said pleasant," she corrected. "I said be pleasant."
