“Not you,” she said as she turned to her aunt. “You know these men,” she said simply. “Did you think them capable of such a thing?”
“Of course not!”
“Then you should talk to them. I’m sure Lord Sayres did his best, but there might be something of which he is unaware.”
Isabelle arched her brow as she all but sneered at him. “I assure you, there is a great deal of which he is unaware.”
“All the more reason to speak with your friends.”
Lady Gwen stared at her aunt, clearly confused by the illogic of the situation. Especially as Isabelle turned hard eyes onto her niece. “Gwendolyn, you appear overwrought. I was afraid that the party last night and this morning’s early hour would be too much for you.”
Far from being insulted, Lady Gwen smiled as if she had just been given a lifeline. She benignly addressed the bankers. “I fear my aunt is correct. I do feel somewhat tired, but I am very pleased to make your gentlemen’s acquaintance. It would give me great pleasure to visit with you again sometime.”
All three bankers pushed up from their chairs, bowing graciously. They said all the proper things, as did Jackson, before Lady Gwen bussed her aunt’s cheek. “Thank you so much for a wonderful time, Aunt. I am very grateful.”
Isabelle allowed the kiss with supreme indifference as she waved her hand at Gwen. “Wait in your room. I’ll attend to you after I am—”
“Goodness no,” Gwendolyn gasped. “I’ll walk home on my own. It’s a lovely morning.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Isabelle said, her irritation plain. “It’s too far to walk.”
“I am a hearty country girl, aunt. I shall be fine.”
Jackson grinned. Here was the exact opportunity he’d been looking for. “And I shall accompany you.”
“Looking like that?” Isabelle cried, as she curled her lip at his Lord Satyr costume. “You’ll be a laughingstock, as will my niece for being in your company. I shan’t allow it.”
Lady Gwen was moving toward the door, her expression amused as she got a full look at his attire. “She has a point, my lord. You do look unusual in the daylight.”
He bowed as if he agreed, but then he flashed her a smile. “The secret to hosting the party of the Season is to have people discuss it long after the event is over. You would help me in this by giving me an excuse to remind people of the event by daylight.”
He watched the lady consider his words, her delectable mouth pursed as she thought. “That does carry some logic, however—”
“Popularity has its own peculiar rules. Trust me on this.” He held out his hand to her and was delighted when she set her fingers in his. And though Jackson heard Isabelle abruptly order her carriage to be brought around, he was too busy studying the intriguing color of Lady Gwen’s eyes. They were the darkest blue he’d ever seen without being brown. And at the edges of the iris was the faintest hint of gold. Like sunlight touching the edges of a petal.
And wasn’t that poetic of him? Truthfully, it was an extremely odd thought, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring while they exited the room.
“I’ll just be a moment,” she said without withdrawing her fingertips from his.
He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Please hurry,” he whispered as he straightened. “I doubt Isabelle will let me loiter for long.”
She nodded and rushed upstairs. Meanwhile, behind him, he heard the three bankers taking their leave over Isabelle’s objections. Clearly, she hadn’t had a chance to press them for money to upgrade her locks. Damnation, Lady Gwen was going to take too much time upstairs. Very soon Isabelle would be free of the bankers and then who knew what mischief she would perpetrate between him and Lady Gwen? But in this he was surprised.
Lady Gwen came down the stairs faster than he could believe. Behind her trailed a maid he recognized. Her name was Lucy. She was a smart woman with sharp ears and a penchant for snooping around places she didn’t belong, and she had little love for Jackson.
“My lady,” Lucy exclaimed. “It isn’t proper for you to go alone and outside—”
“Piffle,” Lady Gwen said, her long legs eating up the distance between the stairs and the front door where he waited.
“Lady Gwendolyn,” the butler said, stepping in front of her. “The carriage will be brought around in a moment. If you would but wait—”
“Oh no need for that,” she said, as she neatly ducked around the large man. “You can send on my things from last night. Good day!”
Jackson reached out his hand and she grabbed it like she was running from a storm. Behind them, he heard Lucy exclaim in dismay while the bankers confused matters by asking for their hats and canes. Together he and Lady Gwen practically flew down the front steps. Looking down the street, he saw Isabelle’s carriage making its way toward them, so he turned in the opposite direction.
“This way,” he said as he pulled her down an alleyway. She pivoted quickly, her steps nimble as they ducked out of sight. He wouldn’t put it past Isabelle to send a footman to chase after them both. He shortened his stride for her but was then surprised again. She kept pace without losing breath as he took them quickly down another street, another alley, and several blocks beyond that.
Eventually he slowed. Once he was sure they were clear, he stopped to look at her flushed cheeks and wide grin. Apparently, the woman had found their mad dash exciting! She rose in his esteem.