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her at all. Not truly. He didn’t bother to make small talk. Instead, he led her to his seats in the section reserved for the Very Important as if she were a mute prize.
    While the musicians were warming up, she dared to lean toward His Lordship. “I saw you speaking to Mr. Morris earlier.”
    “You know him?” Stowe did not sound surprised.
    “He recommended a book to me. How do you know him?”
    “The East India Company wants me to invest in a venture Morris oversees. They say he can turn lead into gold, but I have my doubts. After all, he’s Irish.”
    “Is that your only objection?” Jenny dared to ask.
    Lord Stowe’s gaze drifted over her, from her lips down to bodice, where he lingered. He smiled, the expression smugly complacent, as if he knew something no one else did.
    “Morris is successful,” he said, “but why are we talking about some grubby money manager? Especially when I find myself fortunate enough to be sitting beside London’s current beauty. I’d rather talk about you.”
    Heat warmed her cheeks over the supposed compliment. Still, it didn’t ring right in her ears. Instead, she was embarrassed by it. Nor was she surprised when a gentleman in the row of chairs in front of them leaned back to say something to Lord Stowe, and the marquess immediately forgot her. She was a bauble. A plaything. He wanted to be seen with her, but he wasn’t attentive of her.
    Was he trying to make other men jealous? Or, since as her father’s daughter she’d learned a bit about the vagaries of gambling, was he interested in upsetting the betting book at Brooks’s? What would he gain from such an endeavor?
    With startling insight, Jenny knew right then that Stowe had no intention of offering for her. He just enjoyed showing her off. After all, the man was wealthy. What was the cost of a bet for his vanity?
    Jenny abhorred the hypocrisy. Is this what her father desired for her? To be treated as if she had no value?
    Without even thinking, she stood.
    Heads turned. The German singer had opened his mouth to release the first note. He now shut it, as if affronted that she had moved. His accompanists stopped, and Lord Stowe gaped up at her.
    Jenny pressed her hand to abdomen as if she had taken ill. “Excuse me, my lord, I need a moment of privacy.” She didn’t wait for permission but shuffled past the line of ­people sitting beside her. She reached the aisle and hurried with as much dignity as she could muster for the door.
    Her mother caught up with her in the hall. “What is the matter?”
    “Where is Father?”
    Her mother’s expression grew rueful. “He has disappeared into the gaming room. He said he doesn’t wish to listen to foreign caterwauling.”
    The gaming room. Of course. There was one at every ball, every rout, every affair. He was probably gambling on the prospect of her marrying Stowe, and Jenny wondered if there would ever be an end it?
    She took her mother by the arms. “You must stop him. You must pull him away before he loses more money.”
    “My dear, you know I can’t do that to the colonel—­”
    Jenny gave her mother a shake. “Stowe is not going to offer for me. I sat next to the man. He wanted me there, but he barely even looked at me.”
    “Well, husbands can be that way—­” her mother started, but Jenny wasn’t hearing it.
    “That is not the husband I want, Mother.”
    Jenny didn’t know who was more astounded by her words—­her mother, or herself. But the truth of her stand resonated in every fiber of her being.
    “You must take him,” her mother soberly. “Do you truly believe that I don’t want what is best for you? You can escape this treacherous channel I’ve navigated all my life. If I had been wiser, if I’d had more direction from my parents, I would have married better, and that is my hope for you.”
    Jenny heard the love in her voice, the regret, and she wanted to scream. To rebel.
    Her mother continued “Stowe and his sort may be boors, but