Tiglet shot past Captain Northrup and out through the open doorway.

“Brilliant,” Chloe said. “Now Tiglet is halfway to Islington.”

“It was worth a try,” Lady Eunice muttered.

“Homing kitten,” Tommy whispered. “Not ‘attack bunny.’”

“I would offer both of you a chair,” Chloe informed the interlopers, “if I weren’t entertaining invited guests.”

Philippa winced. “Oof,” she whispered to Tommy. “If Mother despised your sister before…”

“It’s Chloe,” Tommy whispered back. “She has a plan.”

“I suppose Captain Northrup might stay for a cup of tea,” Chloe continued. Her eyes were not on Northrup, but rather Philippa’s mother. “Between me and my darling aunt, Philippa is so well chaperoned, wouldn’t you say, Mrs. York? Surely a mother wouldn’t wish to stifle a blossoming romance with a relative’s unnecessary presence.”

“Stifle?” Mother stammered. “No, I…Yes, naturally you and your aunt are fine chaperones. I’ll just…I’ll just nip back on home, then. I was only pointing out the house to dear Captain Northrup, that’s all.”

“Of course,” Chloe agreed. “I wouldn’t have thought otherwise. I am happy to escort you to the door. And because we’re such fine chaperones, you can have no objection to Philippa accompanying me tomorrow to visit a dear friend? I’ll return Philippa the very next evening. She’ll only be away for one night.”

“I…Well…That is…” Mother stared around the room helplessly.

Chloe had trapped her neatly. Mother could not object to Chloe’s chaperonage, now that she believed Philippa and Northrup had a blossoming romance.

“Bring her home before supper time,” Mother said, as if they were the sort of family who took their meals together.

Philippa’s chest lightened. Thirty-six hours of freedom awaited!

“I’ll see to it.” Chloe herded Mrs. York out of the ballroom. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

From the corridor, Mother twisted to send meaningful looks over her shoulder at Philippa.

Philippa stared back blankly.

Mother’s mouth moved in exaggeration. Hook him.

Chloe dragged her out of sight.

“Well?” Captain Northrup prompted. “Wasn’t I to be served tea?”

“It’s over there on the sideboard,” Tommy barked as Great-Aunt Wynchester. “Mayhap the captain needs an opera glass as well as an ear trumpet.”

“Whatever tea is on the sideboard is cold,” Northrup said with obvious disdain.

“And you’re an uninvited guest,” Damaris shot back. “Not everyone adulates you, Uncle. If you wish to be fawned over, I’m sure you’ve a tall stack of calling cards to return.”

Northrup’s smile was icy. “You’re right. I have too many cards to possibly respond to them all. So I’ve planned a small gathering of one hundred close friends next week. Your mother has agreed to play hostess at my town house and assures me you will be part of the receiving line.”

Damaris sputtered incoherently.