As he bent forward to comply, she said, “On that subject, I’ve been meaning to mention to you, Giles, that you shouldn’t dance with that woman anymore. I assure everyone that you dance with Lady Yasmin out of respect for her grandfather, the Duke of Portbellow. However, it would be more prudent to ignore her altogether, the way most people do.”

Most people? Every night, he had to fight his way through a thicket of suitors to reach Yasmin’s side. She was best of friends with their hostess this evening, the Duchess of Trent, not to mention Mrs. Addison, her friend Cleo. Mr. and Mrs. Addison had become remarkably influential in society in just over a year, perhaps because they made it so abundantly clear that they didn’t give a fig what anyone thought of them.

Giles straightened and moved back in his seat. He could feel anger stirring inside him at Lydia’s unfair statement.

“Don’t waltz with Lady Yasmin tonight, if you please,” Lydia ordered.

He had come to that decision himself. But he wasn’t a man who took commands from anyone, especially his younger sister.

“It’s only because I want to protect you,” she continued, when he didn’t reply. “It has even crossed my mind on occasion that you might consider her as the future Countess of Lilford, and Giles, that would be a frightful mistake. Our father tarnished the family name but that would make you—us—a laughingstock.”

How were Lydia’s conclusions different from his own? He had decided months ago that this particular lady wasn’t eligible. “I have no intention of marrying Lady Yasmin, nor am I courting her. I merely enjoy her company.”

There was a moment’s silence in the carriage. “I know you,” Lydia said. “We both know that you aren’t dancing with Lady Yasmin out of politeness. But marriage to her would be disastrous, Giles.” Her voice wasn’t commanding now, but earnest, even pleading.

His jaw tightened.

“You’re my brother, my only brother. I’ve seen the way you look at her. And she—she’s so beautiful. Delectable, really. I do see that. But she would create scandal after scandal. You would never know if your children are your own. Some say that she is Napoleon’s bastard. Did you hear that? Or that she was his inamorata, rather than her mother.”

“Absurd,” Giles said. “Logically, Lady Yasmin cannot be his daughter, because she was born long before Napoleon became First Consul, let alone Emperor of France. She told me that her mother gave her one of Napoleon’s hats. She brought it here as a gift for her grandfather, who adorned a skeleton with it.”

“I suppose she couldn’t be Napoleon’s daughter. For one thing, she is disagreeably tall.”

“As I already told you, I have no intention of marrying Lady Yasmin,” Giles stated.

“You can’t make such an important decision yourself. We’re talking about my future sister.”

He looked at her incredulously.

“You look so stern all the time that probably no one will wish to marry you anyway,” Lydia muttered. “No, that’s not true. You’re an earl. The only time those dreadful girls at the seminary would talk to me was when they were trying to figure out how they could catch your attention.”