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his reins to Debny before one of the earl’s grooms could appear, told the dogs to stay, and then strode for the front door. It opened before he reached it, depriving him of the satisfaction of pounding on the solid oak again.
    “Good morning, Lord Glengask,” the fat butler intoned, bowing. “You’re expected. I’ll show you to the morning room.”
    As the morning room turned out to be four feet from the foyer, the taking of him there seemed ridiculous, but he would tolerate the nonsense until he had Rowena back in hand.
    “Lady Charlotte, Lady Jane, Lady Rowena, Lord Glengask,” the butler announced, bowing as though he’d just met the king.
    As if they weren’t all acquainted since last evening. The three women rose, curtsying. Since Rowena had never curtsied to him—or to anyone—in her life, she’d clearly already taken to modeling herself after the other two. That did not bode well.
    That woman stood there, as well, gazing at him as if she hadn’t a fear or worry in the world, which annoyed him further. She was everything he disliked in a female, tall and skinny and blond, like some delicate porcelain doll likely to shatter if anyone attempted so much as an embrace. Even worse, she interfered in matters that had nothing to do with her, and spoke when he would have much preferred a moment or two to think.
    “I’m so glad you’ve permitted Winnie to remain in London,” she was saying now, her mouth curved in a rather attractive smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “And we could certainly use your escort today.”
    “And where am I to escort ye to, lasses?” he asked warily, watching for another trick or trap like the one that now had him residing in London for a fortnight.
    “Mama wishes to present Winnie at Almack’s on Wednesday. She’ll be presenting Janie as well, and—”
    “Nae.”
    Lady Charlotte blinked her pretty hazel eyes, as if no one had ever naysayed her before. Likely no one had, considering the weak-headed, weakhearted Englishmen that surrounded her and that sharp tongue between her teeth. “Beg pardon?” she said faintly.
    “Nae. No,” he repeated, exaggerating the sound to make certain she understood.
    “If she doesn’t come out at Almack’s and receive her voucher to the Assembly, traditionally she won’t be able to waltz anywhere else. She won’t even be considered as ‘out,’ by more traditional households.”
    “I’ll nae have my sister paraded before a herd of spoiled, fatheaded Sasannach lordlings like a prize cow.”
    Rowena stepped forward and took hold of his sleeve, as she’d done when she wanted his attention since she was two years old. “It won’t be just me there, Ran,” she said softly. “Jane will be there, too. Every young lady who wants to have her Season goes to Almack’s first. And I do so want to dance.”
    Damnation. He’d never been able to refuse her a thing she truly wished for. Except for London, but then she’d managed that on her own. “Ye’ll be there as well,” he asked, turning to eye Jane, smaller and lighter haired than her mouthy sister. “Right there, beside her?” he asked, hating both that he didn’t know how the damned process went and that he had to ask an English chit for confirmation.
    “Yes. And a dozen or so other young ladies, too,” the younger Hanover sister said, her voice unsteady. In fact she looked at him as if she expected him to leap on her, claws and teeth bared.
    Beside her, the older sister looked much more composed as she nodded her agreement. The golden curls hanging from the knot at the back of her head swayed silkily from side to side. “This is the first Assembly of the Season. She won’t be standing there alone.”
    “And who is it gives them permission to waltz? Who are these patronesses the bloody Society page is always wagging on about?”
    “Well, it’s a group of very influential, aristocratic women. Lady Jersey, for one, and Lady Cowper, and Lady Est—”
    “Jersey. She’s