Bath Scandal by Joan Smith Page B

not notice the interest died as soon as she got her ring?”
    He laughed, taking it for a prime joke. “I was maneuvered into love,” he said.
    Miss Pittfield looked at Bea and lifted her brow. “Well, he was maneuvered at any rate,” the look said.
    Bea observed the look and filed it away for future consideration. Soon she was preoccupied with something quite different. She touched Southam’s elbow. “Do you notice anything unusual?” she asked.
    He followed the direction other gaze to the table. “I don’t see him on his knees.”
    “You don’t hear him, either, but his lips are moving. Tannie usually speaks at the top of his lungs. He must be saying something personal, something he doesn’t want us to hear.”
    Southam blinked. “By God, you’re right! You ladies are regular Napoleons for strategy.”
    “Wellingtons, if you please!” she replied. “We plan to win this battle—or should I say engagement?”
    Miss Pittfield leaned toward the table, eyes gleaming. “Look at that!” she whispered. “Gillie is pouting! She never pouted in her life before. When she is in one of her moods, she wears a face like a sulky dog.”
    “That expression she is wearing is officially known as a moue, Miss Pittfield,” Bea said. “I take that as an excellent harbinger of love. Where the deuce did she learn it?”
    Southam cast a teasing eye on her. “Are you not her mentor, Cousin? I assumed she had learned these tricks from you. I promise you she didn’t leave Elmland with them.”
    “That is why you sent her to me, is it not? To smarten her up. I cannot take credit for the moue, however. I do not pout to advantage. Something to do with the shape of my lips, I believe. Leonard was used to tell me I looked like a tired camel when I tried it, so I left it off. We Irish employ the more direct approach of temper tantrums instead.”
    “I prefer directness myself,” Southam said.
    “The last resort of the unsubtle,”Bea sniffed playfully.
    The duke suddenly rose and held Gillie’s chair. “Is it all right if I go out to the lobby with Tannie. Aunt Bea? We want to see if any of his friends are staying here, and get them to join us,” Gillie said.
    “Excellent! Run along,” Southam answered.
    Bea shot him a killing look. “You’ll look after her for us, Tannie?” she said. “We depend on your good judgment not to introduce Gillie to anyone undesirable.”
    “Certainly, ma’am. I shall keep a sharp eye on her.”
    “Very well, then. We shall join you shortly at the rout.”
    The duke bobbed his thanks and left, holding on to Gillie’s arm as if he were a constable and she in his custody.
    Bea turned to Southam. “Did you have to make it so obvious we were thrilled? A little hesitation would have made his prize seem dearer. That was rather clever of me to have given him the idea he was responsible for her safety, was it not? He will be conscious of his duty. That sense of responsibility will make him take a proprietary interest in Gillie.”
    “Lord, Mrs. Searle, you are as sharp as a needle!” Miss Pittfield said, staring in wonder.
    “The word schemer comes to mind,” Southam said, also impressed.
    “You did not think a Miss Watkins, of no particular fame or fortune, had won Leonard Searle without knowing what she was about, did you?” Bea laughed. “I hope you are making notes, Southam. You have two more sisters to have bounced off one of these days.”
    “I shall certainly send them to you, Cousin. If one of ‘em don’t come home a princess, I shall be mighty surprised.”
    “All in a night’s work. And now, if you will excuse me, I shall go to my room.”
    “Are we not going to the rout?” Southam demanded. He was aware of a sharp sense of disappointment. He had been looking forward to dancing with her.
    “Of course we are going to the rout. Gillie is not the only lady in search of a match. Miss Pittfield and I are also on the quivive for a husband, are we not, Miss Pittfield? I am