“Yes,” came a low male voice from behind her. “Subtlety is wise but hardly the only option. Parasols at dawn perhaps. I hear they carry quite the poke.”
Rose’s ire flared and she set her shoulders as she stood, turning to face Thomas Ashton. “What do you want, Newbury?”
“Rose!” Ann snapped, smacking her arm. “Rude!”
Rose tilted her head in acknowledgment, ignoring the twisted grin on the man’s face. “I apologize. Good evening, Lord Newbury. May I present my friend, Miss Ann Blackburn.” She looked at Ann. “Is that polite enough?”
Ann nodded, and Rose turned back to Thomas, who had reached for Ann’s hand, planting a gentlemanly kiss on her gloved knuckles. Rose brushed their hands apart. “Now. What the bloody hell do you want?”
Gasps sounded up and down the row behind Rose, and Newbury looked as if he were about to choke. Red spots bloomed on his high cheekbones, and his dark eyes gleamed. He gave her a little bow. “Lady Rose, I came to make you an offer.”
She gritted her teeth. “I appreciate your thinking of me, but I’m afraid I must decline.”
He blinked. “You have not even heard it.”
“No matter. I’m not interested.” She turned and prepared to sit.
“Not even if it gave you the opportunity to expand on that earlier encounter?”
She paused in her descent, which made her lose her balance, and she dropped on the chair with an abrupt thud, causing it to scoot backwards several inches with an appalling screech. Ann reached to steady her, as did Newbury. She glared at them both as she straightened and pulled the chair back into place.
Newbury pressed his lips together as if he were fighting a sneeze... or something.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, my lord.”
He seemed to gather himself together a bit. “May we speak more privately?”
Rose stiffened. Being alone with Thomas Ashton would definitely not be good for her nerves. His presence among the spinsters was disconcerting enough. He stood entirely too close, and Rose hated the way her heart raced. “Absolutely not. Make your offer.”
He gave a single nod and a quick glance at Ann. “Very well.” He held out a dance card. “This is Lady Elizabeth’s list of partners for the evening.” He held it so that only one name was revealed. “Do you know this gentleman?”
Rose glanced at the name, the familiar fury rising up in her again. Rose tried to keep her face stoic, but her eyes narrowed as she looked up at Thomas.
“Ah. So you do know him.”
“Barfield.” The word came out of her like spittle.
Ann gasped. “Felton Barfield? Lord Broxley? We were just—”
Rose cut her off. “And you’re letting Beth dance with him? How could—” She stared at the card in his hands again, the very name rankling in her gut. Her fists clenched. “What kind of brother are you?”
“One who doesn’t enjoy embarrassing his sister. We cannot exactly stop the dance without denigrating Lady Elizabeth. But we can prevent anything else from happening. Robert will be watching from the sides. And I’ll be on the dance floor. Preferably with a partner who would not mind the disruption if this... gentleman... misbehaves.”
His meaning hit Rose like a broadside shot, and her gaze snapped back to his face. His eyebrows rose in the unspoken question as he waited. “You are asking me to dance.”
“For a cause to which you yourself seem to be dedicated.”
“She’s our lioness.” Ann’s quiet words were a gift of friendship.
Newbury tilted his head, peering at Ann. “I beg your pardon?” He returned the dance card to his coat pocket.
Rose looked at her friend, feeling the heat rising in her face. “Ann—”
Ann smiled with a sweet warmth, disregarding Rose and addressing Newbury. “The spinsters. The debutantes.” She paused and shrugged. “At least the ones who have been out a season or two. The new ones do not yet realize how much they need her. Rose has an entire network of gossip and information. She ferrets out who are the scoundrels with nefarious motives and passes the warnings. Even taking action when necessary.” She nodded toward Denis Northey, who was smoldering near a statue of the Egyptian god Ra. “None of us would have the nerve to confront a nobleman like him. But Rose knew what would happen if that man managed to get your sister out on the terrace alone. She felt honor-bound to stop it. I know that if she had married, Rose would one day be a dragon of theton. Instead, she helps protect us when the men in our lives whoshouldbe our guardians just take us for granted or”—she gestured up and down the row of chairs—“they have relegated us to the sides of their world.”
“Ann—”
“If she sounds rough or brusque... if she curses... it’s because she has had to deal with some true degenerates, some who have ruined even her closest—”
