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at you, please let me know, Stephen.”
    His deep laugh made her smile in return. “I would like to think I can call on you without having to hide behind your skirts.” He paused. “Though your skirts are exceptional.”
    Perhaps this could be more than mild fun. Stephen was a member of the nobility, after all, and didn’t have any scandal attached to his name. “Thank you. It’s something of a new style I’m trying.”
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    “Please continue with the effort.” He gazed at her, admiration clear in his light blue eyes. “By God, you are lovely. And that is another thing I’ve been wanting to tell you for the past year.”
    She had the abrupt desire to punch each of her brothers in their arrogant noses. Already tonight she’d managed to have more fun and excitement than her brothers had allowed her since she’d turned fifteen—which was when Melbourne had decided it was time she stopped behaving like a child. In an instant he’d put a stop to her racing about barefoot and practicing her fencing with Zachary, and so many other things that it made her want to cry when she thought about them. Six years later, and she’d finally won her freedom again. Now, thanks to Stephen Cobb-Harding, she had a direction to go with it.
    “Perhaps you would care to escort me to Hyde Park tomorrow, then, Stephen?”
    His charming smile deepened. “Might eleven o’clock be acceptable?”
    “Eleven o’clock would be perfect.”
    “Valentine!”
    At the strident feminine hiss, the Marquis of Deverill looked away from the ballroom floor. “Lady Franch?”
    “Lord Franch isn’t feeling well, and he’ll want to leave early,” Lydia said, from her tone not for the first time.
    “Gout?”
    She edged closer. “I have no idea. Probably. So we must hurry.”
    A burgundy gown swirled by and vanished into the crowd of dancers again. “Hurry?” he repeated, shifting his gaze to the Griffin brethren. None of them were dancing, and none of them were looking at their sister.
    Eleanor
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    had been right. Something significant had happened.
    Something that had allowed her to pour herself into one of Madame Costanza’s famously decadent creations. And considering the results, he could only applaud the change in the Griffin weather.
    Lady Franch moved closer still, so that he could feel her breath warm on his cheek. “Hurry to give me your cock,” she whispered.
    “Apologies, Lydia, but I need it elsewhere this evening.”
    He could practically feel the vibration of her abrupt annoyance as she turned to follow his gaze. “Lady Eleanor? Simply because she’s wearing that rag? You’ve never even looked at her before.”
    “I’ve never seen her before,” he returned absently.
    It was so odd. Though he’d known Eleanor Griffin for years, most of their encounters had consisted of light bantering and the occasional bit of frivolous nonbrotherly advice, generally concerning how to avoid entanglements with blackguards such as himself. He didn’t consider her a sister, mainly because he didn’t have siblings and didn’t care to acquire any through social adoption. Far too much of an obligation and a burden, family members were.
    Since this afternoon, though, Eleanor had abruptly become…interesting.
    “I don’t suppose I can do anything to distract you from the little upstart?” Lady Franch queried, her tone edged with frustration. Lord Franch would owe him a vote of thanks for tonight, no doubt. The old fool’s birthday had just come early.
    “I’d hardly call the Duke of Melbourne’s sister an ‘upstart,’ but actually I’m merely curious about her presence and appearance,” he returned. “What would cause Mel-Sin and Sensibility / 37
    bourne to escort her here, and then not pay any attention to what she does?”
    Except that the brothers, or the duke, at least, were paying attention. He’d lay a wager on that fact. They simply weren’t taking any action about it. And that