perhaps it was in her charity’s best interest to make an appearance after all. “Yes, of course.” She smiled.
“Splendid. Will you save the first waltz for me? And the last one? And a cotillion?”
Why this sudden interest in her? Mystified, she met his twinkling gaze and decided to play along until she figured this—him—out. “Three dances with the same gentleman at the course of one evening is an invitation to be ruined, John.”
“Or married by a special license.” He grinned wolfishly. “But you’re quite right, my lovely Isabel. One dance is socializing, two are a mark of genuine affection, and three are an outrage.”
Isabel decided that Lord John was far too accustomed to women fawning and cooing over him while he basked in his golden glory. No doubt he was curious to see how fast and hard she would fall on her face and join his club of worshipers. Unfortunately for John, she wasn’t likely to start tittering any time soon. She had a feeling that not succumbing to his charms would in fact make an even stronger impression on him—which might help in enlisting his political support. “I will grant you the first waltz of the evening and a cotillion, but you shall owe me a favor.”
“Interesting.” His angelic features creased in thought; he was also smiling. “I accept.”
“Until tomorrow evening.” She curtsied elegantly and walked off the dance floor.
By the time she reached Iris, the buzz around her was almost deafening. “What was that about?” Iris gripped her arm, her voice low. “You didn’t let him escort you off the floor.”
“It’s a new tactic I’m testing out.” Isabel smiled wickedly. Sophie materialized beside her, huffing and puffing. “What happened with Admiral Duckworth?” Isabel asked.
“Lecherous old blighter! He thought that because he was short-sighted and half deaf I’d let him maul me. He didn’t know I tramped over ancient toads like him at the opera in Paris.”
Iris and Isabel exchanged amused glances while endeavoring not to laugh out loud. “Does this mean we should scratch the admiral off our potential list of supporters?” Iris asked.
Sophie sniffed with disgust. “Impertinent libertine! I hope he drowns in his bathtub.” She looked at Isabel. “How was your waltz with Lord John?”
Iris debriefed her, finishing with, “Isabel was about to enlighten us about her new tactic.”
“I’m keeping the Golden Angel guessing.” Isabel grinned. “I don’t know why he let my brother foist this introduction on him or why he thereupon asked me to dance and showed an interest in our charity, but I have every intention of finding out tomorrow at the Barrington ball.”
“I thought you’d begged off,” Iris said.
“I changed my mind. Lord John asked for three dances in advance. I need to find out why.”
“Where’s the mystery?” Sophie pouted very French-like. “A friend introduced him to a beautiful young woman, who isn’t a featherbrain, and he wants to further the acquaintance.”
“Did you ask if he would consider sponsoring our cause in the House or if he knew anyone who could obtain the lists for us?” Iris queried.
“Not yet. I did tell him about our efforts and he seemed interested. We’ll see.”
“Izzy knows someone else who could help us obtain the lists,” Sophie mentioned.
“Indeed?” Iris looked delighted. “Who?”
“It’s no one.” Isabel squirmed. “An old acquaintance of my brother’s. Some recluse.”
Sophie twisted her lips. “According to the dashing major, you knew this recluse quite well, Izzy. I am certain a resourceful minx such as yourself could contrive a way to approach him.”
“What dashing major?” Iris inquired guardedly.
“Me,” a low voice spoke behind her.
Iris whipped around, her eyes wide with terror, her complexion ashen. She and Ryan stared at each other in deafening silence. Sophie and Isabel exchanged bemused glances.
Ryan was the first to recuperate. “Lady Chilton, I believe.” He took her hand. Iris snatched it back, her light blue eyes glinting murderously. Softly Ryan said, “Don’t cause a scene, Iris.”
“Why not?” Iris hissed. “I’m amazed our patronesses allow the likes of you in here at all.”
He smiled icily. “I could say the same about you,” he murmured. “At least I didn’t…sell my assets to be here.”
Her flinty gaze flitted to his nether regions and returned to his face. “You just offer them to let. I wonder, however did you procure your voucher for this evening?”
Isabel choked. She never imagined that quiet, gentle Iris had such a ruthless streak in her.
Ryan didn’t blink. “You know me, I am my own master. As it happens, I’m shopping not selling tonight. I’m told this place offers the pick of the debutantes.”
“Oh. I see.” Iris’s sweet smile dripped poison. “You’re hunting for a fortune, then?”
Macalister’s jaw tightened. “Not so much a fortune as a woman of true nobility.”
“Interesting.” Iris tilted her head aside. “Why would a woman of true nobility want you?”
“For love?” He raised a cocky eyebrow.
Isabel decided to step in before they killed each other. “Good evening, major. How nice of you to join us. Would you be a dear and fetch me a glass of lemonade? I’m parched.”
A devilish smile lit his face. “Isabel, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Your glow brightens even the dowdiest of creatures.” Though he didn’t spare a glance in Iris’s direction, he hit the mark.
Perceiving the hurt in Iris’s eyes, Isabel wished he’d leave her poor friend alone. Nor did she appreciate being wielded as a weapon. She would get to the bottom of this later. She curled her hand around his arm. “I’ve a better idea. Let’s stroll together to the refreshments table.”
“Actually, I was hoping to lure you onto the dance floor.”
Isabel was about to refuse, but caught Sophie’s strict, prompting glare. Isabel reconsidered. Unless she cared to wipe the blood off the floor, whatever method drew Ryan away from Iris was good enough for now. She cast Ryan a charming smile. “How could I refuse?”
Yet before she managed to drag him off, he seized Iris’s dance card and signed his name next to the last waltz. “There is something to be said for vintage as well.”
“I am not dancing tonight,” Iris clipped sternly.
“Then you shouldn’t have tied your card on.” He took Sophie’s card and marked a country dance. “Tonight, no woman is safe from me. Until later, ladies.” He bowed and led Isabel away.
At the edge of the dance
