“Miss Flite.” He bowed to her, smiling suavely. “You are not, it is to be hoped, corrupting my daughter.”

Effie summoned a smile in return as she resumed her seat. He was teasing her, she could tell. The fine hairs on the back of her neck nevertheless lifted in warning. “Impossible, sir. You must know your daughter is incorruptible.”

“I should hope so.” He bent to press a kiss to Miss Compton’s cheek. “How is the invalid today? Not overexerting herself, I hope?”

Miss Compton dutifully accepted her father’s tribute. “Mama said it was better I should receive callers than languish alone in my rooms.”

Lord Compton straightened. “Your mother is still out?”

“She’s visiting her dressmaker.” Miss Compton settled back on the sofa. “Miss Flite has asked me to accompany her to one of Lady Bartlett’s meetings.”

“I see.” Lord’s Compton’s attention returned to Effie. His gaze held the same gleam of simmering interest he’d betrayed on the previous occasions they had met. “Tell me, how has a lovely young lady like you found herself caught up in Lady Bartlett’s toils?”

“Miss Mannering invited her,” Miss Compton replied before Effie could answer.

Lord Compton cast a repressive look at his daughter. “Miss Mannering would do better to direct her attentions closer to home.”

Miss Compton flushed deeply.

Effie recalled Miss Compton having said that her father disapproved of Lord Mannering’s gambling habits. Doubtless he knew Mannering was indebted to Gabriel. “Is Lady Bartlett an objectionable person?” Effie asked.

“She meddles in the affairs of men,” he replied.

“The education of British girls?”

“Quite so. The subject is best left to the children’s parents.”

“Not every girl is fortunate enough to have parents,” Effie pointed out.

“In which case her learning must be guided by her betters,” Lord Compton said. “I have several gentlemen acquaintances who sit on the boards of charity schools. The girls within are brought up in accordance with their prospects.”

“While girls of good family—”

“Must be trained to be good wives and pleasant companions. It is a husband’s privilege to manage the other aspects of their lives.”

“Finances and so forth?” Effie queried, thinking of Miss Corvus.

“Among other things.” Lord Compton smiled at Effie again with fatherly condescension. It was an expression at odds with the one that continued to glimmer at the back of his eyes. “I despair of seeing genteel young ladies trouble their heads with such matters. Pray don’t tell me you are one of them, Miss Flite?”

“Miss Flite is a bookish sort of person,” Miss Compton said. “She has a great interest in your library.”

“Ah yes. My daughter informed me that you perused one of my medieval texts the night of our musicale. I trust you found it sufficiently enlightening?”

Effie wondered if Miss Compton had shared everything about that night with her father. If she had…