Page 87 of Rules for Ruin

The thread of disdain in her voice as she uttered the word provoked a faint smile from Effie.

How ignorant some women could be about their own source of power!

“Spinsterhood is a contradictory state,” Effie said. “Both most maligned and most desirable. In the absence of marriage, a woman retains her freedom, in law as well as in fact. She can do as she likes.”

Rather than intrigued, Miss Compton appeared appalled by the idea. “What is there worth doing without the protection of a gentleman?”

“Women don’t require a gentleman’s protection. They’re perfectly capable of protecting themselves. All they lack is the knowledge to do it.” Effie gave her a curious look. “Hadn’t you a governess to tell you so?”

“If that is what your governess taught you,” Miss Compton said repressively, “she was a very different breed from mine.”

Effie’s mouth curved with bittersweet memory, recalling Miss Corvus’s strident lectures on feminine independence. An Academy girl must be armed for the battle of life. She must know how to read and to think. She must be equipped to defend herself.

“When all the world deserts you, you will have no friend but yourself to rely on,” Miss Corvus had told them. “See that you are a fierce and competent friend. A friend to be reckoned with.”

“Yes,” Effie agreed quietly. “She was, rather.”

“My governess believed young ladies should be educated only so far as required to be a suitable helpmeet to their husbands,” Miss Compton said. “My father believes the same. It is the common way of things among girls of my class.”

My class, not our class.

Effie didn’t fail to note the distinction. Even at her most defenseless, Miss Compton was still in possession of as many barbs as a hedgehog. “Then you must educate yourself,” Effie said. “There’s no good reason why learning should stop at the schoolroom. Not when there are books, and women’s salons, and—”

“Really, Miss Flite. After last night, education is the last thing on my mind.”

“Quite so,” Effie said, undeterred. “You require diversion.” She paused to consider. “Perhaps you might accompany me to the lecture at Lady Bartlett’s on Wednesday?”

Miss Compton blinked. “To hear some frumpy bluestocking talk radical nonsense?”

“Miss Mannering doesn’t consider it nonsense. If you intend a long-term association with the family, I should think it well to cultivate those interests that—”

“Yes, I see.” Miss Compton gave a thoughtful flutter of her fan. “I suppose I might make an effort, even though I find such radicalism to be—”

“What’s this about radicalism?” Lord Compton’s voice sounded from the entrance of the drawing room.

Effie’s gaze jolted to the doorway. Her pulse quickened on a rush of trepidation. She hadn’t anticipated encountering his lordship today. And certainly not like this.

He was dressed for home in a pair of charcoal gray trousers and a burgundy smoking jacket with a velvet shawl collar. A disconcerting sight. Effie had never seen him so casually attired.

She stood as he entered, offering a flawless curtsy. “My lord.”

“Miss Flite.” He bowed to her, smiling suavely. “You are not, it is to be hoped, corrupting my daughter.”

Effie summoned a smile in return as she resumed her seat. He was teasing her, she could tell. The fine hairs on the back of her neck nevertheless lifted in warning. “Impossible, sir. You must know your daughter is incorruptible.”

“I should hope so.” He bent to press a kiss to Miss Compton’s cheek. “How is the invalid today? Not overexerting herself, I hope?”

Miss Compton dutifully accepted her father’s tribute. “Mama said it was better I should receive callers than languish alone in my rooms.”

Lord Compton straightened. “Your mother is still out?”

“She’s visiting her dressmaker.” Miss Compton settled back on the sofa. “Miss Flite has asked me to accompany her to one of Lady Bartlett’s meetings.”

“I see.” Lord’s Compton’s attention returned to Effie. His gaze held the same gleam of simmering interest he’d betrayed on the previous occasions they had met. “Tell me, how has a lovely young lady like you found herself caught up in Lady Bartlett’s toils?”

“Miss Mannering invited her,” Miss Compton replied before Effie could answer.

Lord Compton cast a repressive look at his daughter. “Miss Mannering would do better to direct her attentions closer to home.”