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The thought soured Jason’s jovial mood. Why must either the wife or the husband be subjugated? Perhaps it was a concession married people gladly made to keep their spouses content.

“There you are, my dear Miss Audsley. Come. Come. Let me have a look at you.” Grandmother held out both of her hands and wiggled her fingers in a summons. “I pray you are no worse for wear for having sacrificed yourself on my behalf.”

That brought a chorus of subdued murmurs, and a becoming flush flared over Lenora’s cheeks.

“I’m not a hero,” she whispered fiercely to Jason. “I wish everyone would stop making a to-do about it. I dislike the attention.”

It took but a minute to make their way to his grandmother. She patted the seat beside her, which another woman had kindly vacated. “Sit beside an old woman and indulge her, won’t you, dear?”

With a polite nod, Lenora settled beside Grandmother. As there were no more vacant chairs, Jason stationed himself beside the maroon and gold divan, one hand resting on the carved rosewood back.

Her merry walnut-brown eyes shining, Grandmother took Lenora’s hand. “I knew there was something special about you the instant I laid my eyes upon you.”

Lenora cast a short glance in Jason’s direction before smiling at the elderly woman.

“Thank you, my lady. I only did what anyone would have done.”

“Pshaw.” Grandmother waved her hand in the air. “We all saw how those cork brains behaved. Cowards, every last one.”

It was the truth.

“I don’t see any of them here today,” Grandmother said. “They’re probably afraid my grandson would out their spinelessness.” She leaned in, speaking earnestly. “Miss Audsley, I haven’t a doubt I would have sustained a serious injury or worse if it hadn’t been for your bravery.”

“My lady,” a stout woman in a gown of an indeterminable and uncomplimentary shade of brown interjected in haughty disbelief. She pressed a hand to her substantial bosom theatrically. “Are you implying Miss Audsley saved your life while others stood by and did nothing at all?”

“Indeed, Lady Clutterbuck. That is precisely what happened. Miss Audsley held those two ruffians off until my grandson arrived.”

Grandmother bestowed a doting smile upon Jason.

He still hadn’t told her of his possible voyage to India. A journey that didn’t seem half as enticing as it had mere days ago. His attention shifted to Lenora’s slightly bowed neck topped by vibrant red curls.

She hates this.

Lenora truly detested all of the attention.

“Grandmother, you asked me to remind you to invite Miss Audsley, her mother, and the Earl and Countess of Keyworth to supper Saturday as a way to express your appreciation.”

Jason gave her a lopsided boyish smile, praying she wouldn’t expose his taradiddle.

Blinking owlishly for a moment, his grandmother’s sharp gaze drifted to Lenora before she jerked it back to him. He knew the instant she understood. Approval shone in her eyes.

“I had forgotten. I’ve been too busy retelling the story of Miss Audsley’s heroic actions.” She chuckled and shook her head, giving Lenora a fond smile. “The cat’s out of the bag now, however. Do say you’ll honor an old woman’s dearest wish, Miss Audsley, and join me for dinner Saturday.”

Grandmother speared Jason a telling glance, and he felt sure he’d be explaining himself on the way home. Only, he didn’t have an explanation.

“I should like that very much, my lady,” Lenora said without waiting for her brother’s approval. She had a backbone and an independent streak too.

By that time, Lord and Lady Keyworth had neared. From the deep lines riveting Keyworth’s forehead, he’d heard the exchange and was not pleased. He couldn’t very well refuse to accept, or else he’d appear churlish. After all, no one but he and Jason knew the precise nature of their conversation in the study the other day.

Keyworth hadn’t breathed a word about Lenora staying away from Jason. Only the reverse. He couldn’t entirely prevent the pleased twitch of his lips but wasn’t lackbrained enough to permit a full-on smile.

The earl could only be pushed so far.

“Dinner would be lovely,” Celestia chimed in, looping her hand through Keyworth’s arm and hugging it to her side. “I believe you possess an extensive collection of antique writing utensils, Lady Darlington-Pope. As a scrivener, I’ll admit to a deep curiosity about them.”

If memory served him correctly, Jason believed Ronan Brockman had mentioned that Lady Keyworth’s father and uncle were scribes and her ladyship was an accomplished amanuensis herself.

“I do indeed, Lady Keyworth.” Grandfather had permitted her that one minor entertainment. “I even possess an Egyptian reed pen and a Roman stylus. I would be honored to show them to you Saturday.”