Tobias looked at her askance as they began their circuit of the room. “You are quite tall.”

“So I’m told.” There was no inflection to the statement, but Tobias understood her meaning.

“My apologies. That was not only unoriginal; it was a ridiculous thing to say.”

The edge of her mouth curved up. “You’re fairly tall, though not the tallest man I’ve met.”

He laughed. “Touché. Tell me, what do you like to read?”

Her gait slowed momentarily, and she looked at him as if he’d sprouted another ear. “Newspapers. Pamphlets about matters of the day.”

“Indeed?” Tobias’s eye caught his ward on the dance floor just as the set came to an end. Her partner bowed to her, then took her hand. His gaze lingered on Miss Wingate’s chest before he led her from the floor. Tobias felt the urge to go and knock him down. How dare the scoundrel look at his ward like that?

“Is something amiss?” Miss Goodfellow asked.

Tobias blinked and refocused on the woman at his side. “What? No. I have a ward, and I’m afraid I’m new to this guardian business. My father didn’t give me much notice on that front.”

“Your father recently passed away, is that right?”

He nodded. “In December.”

“Yet here you are, mingling in Society so soon after. I’d be shunned if I did that.” Her jaw tightened, and he felt the ripple of tension that passed through her.

“It’s not fair, is it?” he asked, thinking she’d probably fit right in at the Phoenix Club. It’s too bad she wasn’t eligible. They did not invite young unmarried ladies. They did, however, invite spinsters. Not many, but a few. When exactly did a woman pass from marriageable to spinster? More importantly, why?

He surveyed Miss Goodfellow and judged her to be approaching her middle twenties, if not already there. She was likely seen, at least by some, as on the shelf, meaning she was past the point where most men would take an interest in her. Tobias understood her quiet outrage and, frankly, shared it. There shouldn’t be an expiration on a woman’s marriageability. There certainly wasn’t one on his.

“Fair is subjective, isn’t it?” She cast him an enigmatic glance.

“I suppose it is. However, I think I can state, without argument, that when it comes to expectations of men and women in Society, they are not held to an equal standard.”

“On that we agree, my lord.”

They’d reached the opposite corner of the room. He turned and started back the way they’d come. In doing so, he had a clear view of his ward speaking with Lady Cassandra. Lady Pickering and Miss Lancaster stood nearby. Likely Lady Pickering had taken care of the introduction then.

“Lord Overton?”

Tobias pulled his attention from Miss Wingate. “Yes?”

“Have you reentered Society so soon after your father’s death because you’ve decided to take a wife?”

Bollocks. She’d cut right to the heart of his intent. Logic may not be rampant amongst the ton, but he’d selected a lady with a keen intelligence. He looked forward to discussing the “matters of the day” with her when they danced.