"I tell you this for your wellbeing," Templeman was saying in his usual pompous manner, one plump hand smoothing back his mane of greying hair. "You must have a care for your reputation. Gentlemen have an aversion to marrying a woman who is thought unchaste."
As Constance bravely sucked on her lower lip, Katherine nearly choked. "No one would dare imply that Constance is less than a lady," she informed Lord Templeman. "Emma, Bixby, or I attend her every minute a gentleman visits. She is always chaperoned when she goes out."
Lord Templeman leaned back with an audible creak of his corset. "One can never be too careful. Just associating with someone like Borin might be enough to darken her name."
Constance's limpid eyes widened.
Katherine frowned. "What do you mean? We have heard no bad report of Lord Borin."
"Well, certainly, you wouldn't," Templeman replied with a smug smile. "These are tales passed among gentlemen, if you take my meaning."
"I thought a real gentleman never boasted of his conquests," Katherine countered, remembering something she had heard Sir Richard tell Eric when he had asked about a certain lady.
"And a lady never admits to understanding the reference," Templeman sneered. "But perhaps I berate the wrong person in Constance. Where is your guardian, Sir Richard? Why isn't he here protecting her?"
"Sir Richard is unwell," Katherine replied, hoping he would not ask the nature of the illness. Bixby had reported that two brandy bottles had been found in her uncle's study last night before he was carried off to bed. She supposed she should be thankful he didn't overdose himself with laudanum or morphine instead.
"Ah, unwell. Again." Templeman shook his head. "What a topsy-turvy household you have, to be sure. I begin to think I should remove my cousin, for her own good."
Constance gasped, and Katherine quickly covered her stepsister's hands with one of her own. "Now, Lord Templeman," she scolded, "what would the gossips say, a handsome bachelor such as yourself sharing his lodging with a young lady?"
She nearly gagged on the sentiment, but it worked its charm as she had known it would. Templeman sat straighter, forcing another creak from the vicinity of his body, and preened. "Yes, well, there is that, I suppose. Still in all, we must do our best for Miss Constance."
"And in that vein," Katherine said, seizing her advantage, "I still do not understand why you object to Lord Borin. He is more handsome and wealthy than most of Constance's suitors."
"He seems quite charming," Constance put in wistfully.
Katherine was encouraged by the tone. It was obvious, however, that it only discouraged Lord Templeman.
"Well, if I must spell it out for you," he blustered, "he is a cad. If you want proof, you have only to look at the actresses he's pursued, the latest of which is Lydia Montgomery of Drury Lane."
Constance paled at the revelation. Katherine merely pursed her lips in thought. She would have liked to dismiss the tale as gossip, but the reference was too specific. Of course, Lord Templeman could not know that she had ways of confirming his information.
"I had heard," she said carefully, "that some men who dally are easily reformed by marriage."
"Lady Janice Willstencraft says that reformed rakes make the best husbands," Constance agreed.
Katherine wasn't certain she'd trust the scandalous Lady Janice on the definition of a good husband. She had already refused six completely eligible suitors of her own. Katherine could only hope her stepsister hadn't taken any other advice from the volatile young lady.
"What balderdash," Lord Templeman replied with an ill-bred snort. "Once a dallier, always a dallier, I say. Do you wish your stepsister wed to a reprobate, Miss Collins?"
"A reprobate?" Constance cried.
"Lord Borin," Katherine said hotly, "is no reprobate. He earned credible marks at Eton, his estate is well managed, and his servants find him even-handed and even-tempered. He has never been caught cheating at cards. When he owes a debt, he pays it promptly. He even donates to worthy charities."
"I see he has been busy bragging," Lord Templeman said with a disdainful curl of his flabby lip. "Do you believe everything you are told, Miss Collins?"
"Only when it comes from a reputable source, Lord Templeman."
His eyes narrowed as his face reddened. He heaved his considerable bulk out of the chair. The intimidating movement was spoiled by yet another creak. As Katherine forced herself to smile instead of laugh at him, he wagged a finger in her face. "You have been warned, miss. Borin is a loose fish, and I will not countenance him for Constance."