Effie recognized him at once. It was Lord Phillip Mannering, one of the young men who had danced with her at the ball and sent her flowers the day afterward. He’d returned to Brook Street once more since then, calling on Effie yesterday afternoon. A harmless enough fellow—unobjectionable in appearance, courtly in manner, and just amusing enough not to be a bore.

His face spread into a grin to see her. “Miss Flite!” He swept off his hat, sketching her a bow. “How do you do?”

“Lord Mannering.”

“I see you’ve met m’sister. Ruth? This is Miss Flite.”

Effie exchanged curtsies with Miss Mannering. “I wasn’t aware Lord Mannering had a sister.”

Miss Mannering gave her brother a pointed look. “I’m not surprised. My brother rarely recalls my existence himself.”

Lord Mannering flushed. “Ruth’s been in the country, at Luxford Place, with m’mother. She’s only returned to town yesterday evening. Had to come straight to the bookshop, didn’t you?”

“I’ve exhausted my reading material,” Miss Mannering said. “I had hoped Hatchards would offer replenishment. Alas.”

“Alas,” Effie agreed.

Miss Mannering’s eyes smiled, though her mouth remained set in a neutral line. “Farrer and Devonport in the Strand stocks a greater number of titles on the subject. I shall visit them myself when I’m not pressed for time.” She turned to her brother. “Philip?”

“Yes, yes. We must dash. We’re due for tea at my old aunt’s house in Green Street. Can’t miss it, you know. She’s a right old tartar.” He bowed to Effie once more. “Until we meet again, Miss Flite.”

Effie bid them both good day. She was heartened to have met a fashionable young lady with some level of fellow feeling. Granted, it wasn’t enough to offset the unpleasantness of her exchange with Lord Compton, but given the circumstances, Effie must take success where she could find it.

As for the viscount himself…

She could no longer deny that he might be capable of the things Miss Corvus had accused him of. There was something in his eyes. That odd flicker of heat when he looked at Effie. As though, deep under his mask, beneath the scrupulously crafted veneer of wisdom and civility, he was not an honorable man at all.

Today he had betrayed but a glimpse of his true nature.

Effie had marked it. For the moment, it was more than enough to spur her on. Any gentleman who compared women to dogs was long overdue for a comeuppance.

It seemed only proper that she should be the one to give it to him.

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