Behind her, Eleanor nodded her agreement.

“If you will excuse us, my lord?”

“You can’t desert me,” Lord Stanbury said in a pained voice. It sounded as though he was serious. Was it possible that Lord Exuberant was actually terrified of meeting Society people? Was that what made him run off to sea? Or was his current attitude because he had so thoroughly thumbed his nose at these people—and now he was back among them.

“Come with us, then,” Della said. “We can surround you in a phalanx of Howletts so nobody will speak to you.”

She heard Eleanor smother a snort, and saw Olivia’s face brighten. “Oh do come. Let’s go get some wine. Lord Linden is famous for his wine cellar.”

“No beer, I suppose,” she heard him murmur as they walked toward the refreshments.

“Did you find your Clark?” Della asked.

Lord Stanbury shook his head. “No, I wonder if he is still sleeping it off somewhere. I’ll look tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you. So we can ask for your first mate as well as see what we can find out about Mr. Wattings. Sarah found a disguise that will work.”

“So stubborn,” he said, and the admiring warmth in his tone made something happen low in her belly.

She couldn’t blame the wine, since she hadn’t had any yet. It was just him, and his outsized presence, and his surprisingly sweet trepidation about entering Society.

Oh dear, she thought as she walked beside him. I am in so much trouble.

“That wasn’t so terrible,” Griffith admitted as they waited for their cloaks. She had remained by his side the entire evening, sending pointed glances toward any young lady who appeared to be overstepping. He’d had to smother several grins at seeing how the young ladies wilted under Lady Della’s proud gaze.

Her sisters had protected her all evening as well, stepping in whenever it seemed as though some Society member was about to mention Lady Della’s scandalous past.

He’d never had that kind of protective family himself; the closest had been Frederick, who’d helped him run off to sea, but who had been too cowed by his father to stand up for Griffith when the duke had berated him.

“I suppose not,” she said, smiling at the servant who arrived with her cloak. The servant blinked, as though startled. Yes, she is beautiful, Griffith thought. And she is mine.

Damn it, where had that come from?

He nearly glared down at his cock, since he knew perfectly well which of his parts had instigated that idea.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked in an impatient tone.