Lady Scarlet continued. “Yes, very dull; you don’t mind me mentioning it, I am certain. But if the baron would deign to engage in some lengthy conversation with you for any stretch of days, he could sharpen you up again. Why, he’s as droll as any I daresay, and you are to be commended. Married above yourself. Quite a catch, that one. Bravo, my dear.” Scarlet clapped her hands together in gentle applause, looking hopefully at Lady Pinckney.

Her guest’s normally creamy complexion turned a shade of red so dark, it reminisced of purple. Sputtering, she rose from her chair, and Scarlet breathed a sigh of relief. The woman was leaving.

Scarlet motioned toward the parlor entryway. “I shall ask Buckley to show you out through our back gardens. They are quite lovely this time of year. I feel the walk will aid in your constitution. Looking a bit peaky today. Your color is off, my dear. Perhaps more, dare I say, romance might aid in that department. Nothing like love’s fresh bloom on a lady’s cheeks. How well I remember my first months of marriage: bliss, I tell you.”

She stared off across the room with such an expression of rapture that Lady Pinckney stormed from the room, Buckley directing the way toward the back of the house. Scarlet fell back into the nearest chair with a huff.

Moments later, Andrew and Simon walked through the front door, visible from her front parlor. She craned her neck down the hallway, ensuring the complete exit of Lady Pinckney. They bowed synchronously, and Andrew said, “You summoned?” His eyebrow rose to extreme heights on his forehead.

Lady Scarlet could not help but laugh. “Oh, Andrew. Do control that thing. Soon it will be up in your hairline, and we will lose sight of it altogether.”

“Oh, but Lady Cavendish,” he protested. “All the truly roguish lords have mastered the look. The ladies are overcome. Near swoons in my presence with the simple raise of an eyebrow and my lips just so.” He paused to show them.

Simon grunted. “You look ridiculous, and that’s the truth. Perhaps if you improved your wardrobe instead?” He raised his quizzing glass to take a closer look at Andrew’s breeches. “Use some color, man. A goat would be more interesting to gaze upon.”

“Perhaps if we could set aside our ridiculous focus on fashion when no one else is around . . .” Scarlet stood and gestured for them to follow her into her study. Once inside she explained, “Lady Pinckney is here about the place somewhere.”

With an extra dose of theatrics, the men gasped and checked the hallway, which inspired a grateful laugh from Scarlet.

“We sent her out by way of the rear gardens, but she will be none too pleased when she finally sorts her way out of there, and I hope the two of you are long gone or safely ensconced in here before then.”