Riley drew a quick breath. The Everton masquerade? She'd never hoped to see the girls invited there.
Riley knew, from the reports of it that filled the papers every year, it was considered the opening gala to the Season.
The invitations were very select, and a young lady invited to it was assured of being invited everywhere in the weeks to follow.
"We accept your kind invitation," Riley said quickly.
"On the contrary, Cousin," Mason said. "I am afraid we must decline."
"Decline! Are you mad?" the Dowager asked.
For once, Riley agreed with Lady Delander.
"Mason, refusing the Everton masquerade just isn't done," Cousin Felicity told him, smiling at the Duke and nudging Mason with her knee.
"Yes," Riley added. "If the Duke is so kind as to extend invitations at this late date, we would be remiss to refuse."
Mason shook his head. "I am afraid we must."She knew only too well that stubborn set to his jaw. That same face of stone had been the one thatwouldn't listen to her protests of moving out of the theatre. But this time, Riley couldn't see one goodreason for Mason's refusal. The Everton masquerade would ensure the girls' success.
Then it hit her: he didn't want her there.
He didn't want to be responsible for allowing the notorious Aphrodite to be mixing with the ton, or evenperhaps rubbing shoulders with his cherished and chaste Miss Pindar.Her jealousy got the better of her. "Won't Miss Pindar be there, Your Grace?" she asked.Lord Delander's uncle nodded. "Yes, Miss Pindar and her mother are on the guest list and will most decidedly be there."
Riley smiled as pleasantly as she could muster. If Miss Pindar was going to be there, then so was she.
If Mason intended to marry this woman, then Riley wanted to take her measure-see what the ton
considered the perfect young lady. She told herself it was research to aid in her lessons for the girls. Yes,
just research.
Ignoring Mason's glower, she smiled at the Duke and for a moment Del's uncle's gaze lingered on Riley longer than made her feel comfortable.
Questions, confusion, and then shock flickered in his eyes as he studied her.
But before she could make heads or tails of whether the Duke had recognized her, Riley was distracted by another inquiry from the Dowager.
"How many of them are there?" she asked Riley.
"How many what?" Riley asked.
"Well, sisters. How many girls did Caro and Freddie have?"
"Three," she told her.
"Harumph," the woman snorted, and turned her glare on Mason, as if this vast number of nieces was
somehow his doing. "No wonder Caro and that rapscallion brother of yours kept them hidden away at Sanborn Abbey. 'Twould beggar any man to have three girls out in society-let alone considering your own poor finances." She shook her head. "No wonder you're after Miss Pindar's hand."
"I am hardly pursuing Miss Pindar," Mason protested, though to Riley's ears his efforts sounded half-hearted at best.
"So you say," Lady Delander sniffed.
Once again, Riley found herself in the vexing position of agreeing with the old dragon.
Chapter 12.
"Y ou can't decline the Duke's invitation," Riley said, following doggedly at Mason's heels as he retreated to his study. Now that Lady Delander and her entourage had left, she was free to speak her mind. "Think of what this could mean for the girls!"
He spun around so quickly that she slammed right into his chest-that muscled wall of Ashlin strengthRiley had no right to covet-not since Lady Delander had all but spilled the beans over his courtship withMiss Dahlia Pindar.
Still, she couldn't help but put her hands upon his jacket to steady herself. Her fingers retraced the paththey'd taken last night and her imagination only too happily recalled where that course had taken them.She looked up and saw in his eyes a hint of the same fire she'd tasted last night.
"How can you refuse?" she repeated, not sure she was asking the same question.
"I must," he said, not sounding all that convincing. He looked down at her and for a moment she thought he was going to...
Gads, couldn't she think of anything but kissing when she was around him?
She pushed off from him and steadied herself, her hands finally coming to rest on her hips. A pox and bother on his distracting hide.
"I am refusing the Duke's invitation because of the girls," he said, his gaze going over her shoulder to the
stairwell behind them.
Riley glanced in that direction as well and saw the last flash of muslin as the girls hurried out of sight.
"Come in here," he said, hauling her by the elbow into his study and closing the door behind them. "Don't
you see they can't attend?"
She yanked herself free of his grasp. "Not when what you mean to say is that I can't attend. Well if mypresence is so offensive, then I will decline the Duke's invitation and you take the girls."He raked his fingers through his hair. "Not want you there? Whatever gave you that foolish notion? I would well imagine that if you went you'd set the entire establishment on their collective ears."
Riley turned a shocked and suspicious gaze on him. Had he just given her a compliment?
Just then he took off his spectacles and began wiping them clean. As he glanced at her, she saw the rake,
not the scholar, and wondered which man she preferred.
Both, she realized. Both intrigued her; both mystified her.
"I imagine," he said, "if you worked the same magic on the ton as you did today on Lady Delander, you'
d steal the heart of every man between the ages of fourteen and ninety-four."
Riley resisted the urge to preen under his high praise. Hadn't she heard such flattering words before from
so many others? Yet it tugged at her heart that Mason thought her so beguiling and left her wanting to ask but one question: would that collection of stolen hearts include his?
Setting aside that foolish desire, she redirected their conversation back to the real matter at hand. "At
least consider taking the girls," she urged him.
Mason shuddered. "How can I trust that they will behave? Lord help me, they are hellions. Can you say
your lessons are helping?"
Lessons? she wanted to ask. What lessons? Lessons with the girls consisted of two hours of them hurling
insults at her while she resisted hurling a candlestick back at them. Still the Everton masquerade would ensure their success-and get her off the hook with Mason, if only she could get them to see that as well.
"What if they did behave?" she offered.
"Would you stake your reputation on Bea making it through an evening without consigning something or
someone to hell?"
Riley laughed. "I haven't a reputation to worry about."
"Consider yourself lucky in that regard." He glanced at her again, that odd look on his face as if he were
puzzling some knotty dilemma. "A reputation can be a hindrance to live by."
She wondered at this odd confession as he strode over to his desk. A mountain of notes covered the top.
Riley heard a quiet, desperate sigh slip from him as he eyed the very plain evidence of his financial distress.
"So will you accept?" Riley asked.
He shook his head. "I can't. Just don't tell the girls about the Duke's invitation. I can well imagine the
anarchy I'd have in this house if they found out I refused them the perfect entree into society."
Upstairs in the room directly over their uncle's study, Bea and Maggie strained to get their ears closer to the crack in the floorboards. They'd spent nearly an hour like this in the room next to the salon struggling and waiting to hear Lady Delander make mincemeat of Madame Fontaine.
Much to their chagrin, the lady had been entranced.
How would they ever be rid of their unwanted tutor if she continued to make conquests right and left?