parenthetical remark.
Fortunately for them both, after a moment, she turned away without questioning his meaning. Relieved, he took a ragged breath. Prudence dictated that, had she pressed him about it, he must make light of it—and he wasn’t sure he could make himself lie to her.
Ah, the wicked things he would like to do with her, were it ever possible!
‘At her school, girls are given a better chance in life,’ she said, following up on his previous remark. ‘Lucky them. When they finish their training, they will be able to do something useful.’
‘I wouldn’t be too envious. They may end up with respectable occupations, but their lives will be full of toil.’
‘At least they will own themselves.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps. If they marry, they will become as subject to their husband’s authority as any gently born woman.’
‘They just don’t bring a dowry for that husband to spend.’
‘True. Which means they may not be treated as kindly.’
Miss Henley fixed him with a derisive gaze. ‘I never heard of girl being treated more kindly because she brought her husband a handsome dowry. At least, not after the wedding.’
She had a point there. ‘Very well. I concede that there are disadvantages to marriage.’
‘Especially for a female.’
Shaking his head at her persistence, he said wryly, ‘You are the most bizarre woman. Most females think marriage confers protection, as well as status, upon them!’
‘Only if a woman is lucky enough to wed a superior man.’
‘There are a few such men in society, you know.’
She gave him a saucy look. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ve ever met any.’
He put a hand to his chest dramatically. ‘What, you would lump me in with Mr Null?’
‘Oh, no. You could find work as a coachman. If poor Mr Null ever lost his fortune, he’d be lucky to get a job mucking out stables. Well, I mustn’t keep you any longer.’ Stopping before the door to the school, she rapped on it, then turned to make him a curtsy. ‘Thank you for your kind escort, Lord Theo, and good day.’
Leaving him smiling as he bowed in response, she turned to walk in the door the porter opened for her.
After dispatching Miss Henley to her destination, Theo found a hackney and went on to the jeweller’s, chuckling inwardly as he reviewed the assortment of glittering bijoux the clerk brought for his inspection. Though almost tempted to ask about a chatelaine, he chose instead a handsome pair of sapphire and diamond earrings which, he thought, fit the irrepressible Miss Henley’s description of being ‘fine enough not to insult the lady, but not so opulent as to inspire hope’.
That purchase made and enclosed in a velvet box, he found another hackney and proceeded to the reading room at his club. Requesting pen and paper, he spent some time choosing just the right words to accompany the gift, then summoned a footman to deliver it. Envisaging the detonation of hysterics likely to result once the gift had been opened, he decided it would be wiser to remain at the club for the evening, rather than risk encountering Lady Belinda at some society entertainment while her volatile emotions would likely still be unsettled. And chuckled again as he recalled Miss Henley’s jibe about him being a ‘timid soul’.
Not timid, just prudent, he silently answered her, and then shook his head again at how he tolerated from her remarks that would earn anyone else who dared utter them a steely-eyed gaze, if not an outright challenge. Not that a gentleman could invite a female to a round of fisticuffs or clashing blades.
But then, he couldn’t imagine any other woman making such nearly insulting remarks. As the rich younger son of an ancient aristocratic family, he was accustomed to having females, be they young or old, married or single, treat him with courteous attention and deference, if not outright flattery. Miss Henley alone tossed out remarks that confounded, even rebuked him, her keen gaze focused on him, her raised chin almost challenging him to cut her or give her a sharp set-down.
But then, she’d done that from the start, he thought, recalling that now infamous first meeting—or rather second meeting.
He’d been riding in Hyde Park when he’d spied last Season’s Incomparable, Miss Temperance Lattimar, riding ahead of him, accompanied by another lady. Though he had no serious intentions towards the Beauty, she was an amusing companion and, as no gentleman was currently claiming her, he decided to approach.
‘Lord Theo, good afternoon,’ Miss Lattimar said, nodding as he rode up and doffed his hat. Turning to her companion, a tall, plain girl of no particular distinction, she said, ‘Miss Henley, I believe you already know this gentlemen, do you not?’
Her eyes examined him with a disconcerting directness before she nodded as well. ‘Yes, we are acquainted, though I doubt Lord Theo remembers me.’
In truth, he had no recollection whatsoever of having met her, but it would be most unchivalrous to say, so—especially as she appeared to be a friend of the divine Miss Lattimar. ‘You are mistaken, Miss Henley,’ he protested smoothly. ‘How could I forget so charming a lady?’
‘We were partners for a waltz.’ After a short pause, giving him a strangely speculative glance, she’d added, ‘At Lady Mansfield’s ball last Season.’
Theo didn’t recall it, but then, he’d danced countless waltzes over the last year and could hardly expect to remember every one. So he nodded and smiled, and said, ‘A most enjoyable occasion. You danced delightfully.’
Miss Henley gave him a falsely sweet smile. ‘Except, we were in fact introduced at Mrs Dalworthy’s soirée, where we were partnered for a country dance.’
He must have looked as shocked as he felt, for Miss Lattimar burst out laughing. ‘Shame on you, Emma, you naughty thing! Lord Theo, I’m afraid Miss Henley is a most singular female. She says exactly what she thinks and does not tolerate idle flattery.’
Embarrassment flooding his face, he’d been at first incredulous, then angry that she’d had the gall to expose his white lie so blatantly. He’d been about to return some blighting reply when he met her fierce gaze and noted that confrontational tilt of chin.
She expected him to blast her, he realised. And unlike any single female he’d ever met, she didn’t care a jot if he did.
It hadn’t been, as she later accused, his desire not to appear churlish in front of Miss Lattimar that had induced him to choose a milder reply—but rather the urge to confound her expectations as neatly as she’d confounded his.
‘So I see,’ he said drily, giving her his most charming smile. ‘How unkind of you to trick me, Miss Henley.’
‘I expect it was,
