Whistlethwaite and Harding made hasty apologies and took themselves off. “Strike them off the list,” Dillie muttered under her breath.
“I wonder what she’s doing here,” Julia said in a reverent whisper as the thuck, thuck, thuck of Lady Withnall’s walking cane struck the polished wood floor.
Her mother shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.” She stepped forward to embrace Lady Withnall. “How nice of you to drop by. Do join us. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Lovely,” the old harridan said, taking a seat beside Dillie, who had just dropped onto the settee that her supposed suitors had vacated. “Was that Whistlethwaite and Harding I saw dashing off?”
Dillie nodded.
“Good. Dullards, the both of them. You ought to thank me for my visit. I hope I sent them packing for good. Very dull gentlemen, indeed. Can’t think of a nice thing to say about either of them. They’re quite unremarkable. Not suitable for you, Dillie. Neither one will make you happy.”
Dillie was about to toss back a noncommittal response, but Lady Withnall wasn’t finished yet. “They’re lazy and reckless. But now that they’ve gone, let’s speak of more interesting subjects. Tell me what happened to you at the Wakeford ball.”
Once again, Dillie’s instinct was to panic. She was saved by the timely arrival of Eloise and Ian. More greetings, a slight shuffling of the seating arrangements, meaning Dillie had shot out of her seat and offered it to Eloise in the hope that her neighbor would keep the tiny demon beside her under control.
Ian greeted her mother and Julia, acknowledged their other guests, and turned to her last. His lips were slightly curled upward as he bowed over her hand. “Your eyes are wide as saucers and your cheeks are a bright scarlet,” he said quietly.
She let out a soft moan. “Lady Withnall went straight for me.”
“Why? You haven’t done anything wrong. Stay calm. Don’t you dare eep,” he warned, casting her a gentle glance that made her bones melt.
“Can I fake an attack of sneezing?”
He laughed softly. “No.”
“I don’t know why she’s so interested in me, unless she saw me and Charles by the fountain last night. Maybe she saw you toss him in.”
“So?”
Or saw Ian comforting her. Then again, nothing untoward had happened between her and Ian. He was right. She had nothing to be worried about.
Why hadn’t Ian kissed her last night? Come to think of it, she ought to have been insulted that he hadn’t tried. He was a rakehell, after all. He had a sordid reputation to uphold, yet his behavior had been above reproach. He’d been valiant and noble. That was quite rude of him. Didn’t he like her? Did he find her so unappealing?
She frowned.
His lips broadened into a smile. He re-melted her bones. Was that even a word? Could bones melt more than once?
He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Just answer truthfully. You have nothing to fear from her.”
Oh, he was so wrong! “What if I stumble?”
He suddenly turned serious. “I’ll catch you. Always,” he said in that husky, crumble-a-woman’s-resistance voice of his.
Holy crumpets! With sugar on top! Good Ian had put in an appearance again and was playing havoc with her heart. “And I’ll do the same for you,” she assured, though he didn’t seem to need her help. He handled all manner of adversity with a confident ease. Had her family spoken of her the way his family had spoken of him, she would have been in tears for days.
He went about his day as though nothing had happened.
Did nothing affect him?
Ian cleared his throat and turned away.
Lady Withnall picked up exactly where she had left off before Ian and Eloise arrived. She cast Dillie a beady-eyed glance and smiled. “As I was saying, what happened to you at the Wakeford ball, my dear?”
Dillie’s tongue seemed to swell within her mouth. Her throat began to close up tight. She didn’t know why this woman struck such fear in her heart. She hadn’t done a blessed thing worthy of eternal damnation. Were mere thoughts sufficient? She often dreamed of doing sinful things to Ian’s body. But thoughts didn’t count. How could they? She didn’t even know how to be sinful. She merely wished to be sinful with Ian.
He would have to show her how.
Lady Withnall reached across the tea table with her cane and nudged Dillie to regain her attention. “Answer me, gel. It’s a simple question. Or do you have something to hide?”
The remaining guests tipped their heads toward her, eagerly awaiting her response. They were all settled in the Farthingale parlor, a light and airy room decorated in pale blue silk. The drapes, the settee, and chairs were in compatible patterns of blue silk fabric. The carpet was a lovely, hand-woven floral on a background of pale blue wool. In contrast, Dillie’s gown was a pale rose with a simple white lace fichu at her bosom.