Though he could no longer deny that he wanted Selina, and she seemed as far out of his reach as she had ever been.
The dance came to an end. He bowed as Isobel curtseyed.
“It would go down well if you kissed my hand,” she said, with an excess of practicality and a total absence of passion. He obliged, pressing his lips perfunctorily to her white glove.
“Your friend Miss Whitby will be distressed. I did not kiss her hand after we danced.”
“Georgiana will recover.”
“And, with any luck, your mysterious gentleman will not?”
Isobel shook her head, golden curls bobbing. “You will not get a name out of me, Caversham. Suffice it to say that he deserves to suffer.”
Malcolm offered her his arm as they left the dance floor. Isobel Balfour perplexed him. She was exactly the age and temperament of the type of girl his presence usually reduced to a giggling mess, and yet she treated him with straightforward familiarity. She induced in him feelings of unfamiliar fondness, a desire to protect and support. The closest comparison he could make was his affection for Percy the dog, which Isobel would certainly find less than flattering.
If he had to choose a word for the way he thought of Isobel, it would have been fraternal. Brotherly. But that seemed a step too far. Malcolm had never had any siblings.
He wondered whether Selina felt this mix of pride and protection for all four of hers, all the time.
“You have done me a favour, so I shall do you one in return,” said Isobel, as he returned her to her preferred seat near the musicians. “It will do you no good to call at our house tomorrow.”
“Will it not?”
She glanced about cautiously, as though she were about to reveal a great secret. “Selina is never at home the day after a ball. That way, if any gentlemen try to call on her, they are disappointed.”
“I am struggling to see why you object to my calling her Lady Icicle.”
She held up a warning finger. “Careful, Caversham. I have warned you once already. Now, the day after a ball, Selina invariably takes Aunt Ursula out visiting. They usually go to the Dowager Countess of Aldershot, who lives in the country. It’s two hours from London.”
“I know the place. But what excuse can I make for visiting Lady Aldershot?”
Isobel sighed. “Must I think of everything for you?”
“Very well. I’ll come up with something.” Malcolm hesitated. “My lady, I think I am correct in suspecting that Lady Selina does not wish to be courted.”
“She does not.” Isobel frowned. “And I wish I knew why. I have seen her sabotage every chance she’s had of a real suitor. And now, with Alex and Anthea and Edith all married, it seems stranger than ever that Selina should be alone.” She gave him an appraising once-over, her keen eyes taking in everything from his artfully tousled hair to his polished boots. “Don’t ask me why, but I’ve decided that it would be interesting to see what happens when a gentleman is given a fair shot.”
“I am grateful that you find me worthy of the opportunity.”
“Worthy?” Isobel shook her head, grinning wickedly. “Oh, no. That is for Selina to decide.”
As though she had been summoned by the words, Selina herself approached them. Looking like the haughtiest of goddesses, despite the mess Malcolm had made of one side of her hair.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, as though they had not spoken at all that night. As though she’d forgotten that she called him Caversham, earlier, when they were alone. “Isobel,” she said, turning to her sister, “I don’t want to keep you out late. I am not satisfied that you are fully recovered from your illness.”
“I am perfectly ready to leave,” said Isobel. “In fact, the evening has been everything I wished for.” She shot a smile in Malcolm’s direction, which was almost a balm to the fact that Selina did not even glance at him as they both left.
He watched her, though, as her slender figure wove its way through the crowded ballroom and disappeared through the far door. He watched her as though she were the only woman in the room, and his mind turned over the precious information Isobel had given him, seeking a way to turn it to his advantage.
Lady Aldershot would be extremely surprised the following afternoon, to find the Duke of Caversham at her door.
11
“You cannot be serious.” Selina set her teacup down in its saucer before she spilled it in her anger. “What on earth is he doing so far from London on a miserable day like today?”
Lady Aldershot, unlike Aunt Ursula, had grown milder with her advancing years. Her rheumy eyes blinked in uncomprehending surprise. “I did not ask him, my lady. It would hardly be charitable to assail the man with questions when he is in such a predicament.”
Aunt Ursula was quicker on the uptake. “Carriages are wont to trap their wheels in the mud, when eligible heiresses are in the nearest house.”
“There is no possibility that he has done it on purpose,” said Selina, trying to believe the words as she spoke them. “How could he know I was here?”
Aunt Ursula raised her eyebrows over the rim of her teacup. “I’m sure he does not know, Selina. As you say, nobody could possibly guess that you would suggest a visit to Lady Aldershot the day after a ball.”
“The duke says the roads are simply impassable,” said Lady Aldershot, fretting at her lower lip. “You will all have to stay for the night. I shan’t be able to sleep otherwise, for thinking of you coming to harm on the way back to London.”
Selina took a deep breath, shooting a glare at Aunt Ursula. “You are too kind, Lady Aldershot. Too kind by far. I’m sure that our trusty carriage is much more robust than the duke’s phaeton.”
“I will not hear of it!” Lady Aldershot insisted, her white
