Page 15 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

“What?” Harriet finally asked, her voice full of exasperation. “You’re driving me positively mad with the waiting. You’ve been quiet since you arrived, which we all know is not like you.”

“I’m taking to heart your suggestion that we tackle the deadly sins among our own.”

Harriet squealed with delight. “Lord Ashby?”

“Yes, he is a woefully prideful man.”

Agnes nodded in agreement then sipped her tea. She wasn’t necessarily always quiet; she was just more precise with her words. If she had something to add, she’d speak. Otherwise, she’d simply listen.

Iris held up a finger. “But that means that the two of you must also select a gentleman to reform. And we need to recruit an additional four ladies from our group.”

“Excellent point,” Harriet said. “As for Lord Ashby, what is your plan?”

“We had a discussion, Lord Ashby and I, regarding those despicable articles. He came to my house, which I suppose I have you to thank for.” She leveled a gaze at Harriet and then went on. “He’s not interested in ceasing their publication, so we made a bargain. A wager, actually.”

Agnes’s eyes rounded, but still she said nothing.

“You made a wager with the Earl of Ashby?” Harriet asked, then shook her head slowly.

“Yes, I did. It would seem he needs assistance with his sister. I’m not certain if you know or not, but they were not raised in the aristocracy. He inherited his title from a distant cousin. He is a merchant’s son, and well, his sister—Lucinda, is her name—she is positively begging to be introduced into Society. He wants me to give her lessons in how to be a lady.”

“And if you do this, he will stop publishing the articles?” Harriet asked.

“No, it is not quite so simple. His pride runs so deep, and for some inexplicable reason he is hell-bent on keeping them in print. He instead proposed that he could pass off anyone as a gentleman, and if he does so successfully, then he continues to print them.”

“So he writes them as well as prints them,” Agnes said.

“I beg your pardon?” Iris turned and glanced at her friend. But yes, that made perfect sense. It certainly explained why he was so very attached to them. They were his own words. “I suspect you may be right, Agnes.” Then she waved her hand. “In any case, I intend to volunteer myself to be turned into a gentleman.”

Harriet spat her tea then collapsed into a coughing fit. Agnes hit Harriet’s back to help with the choking. Iris leaned forward and handed Harriet a napkin.

“Why would you not have him tutor Jasper?” Agnes asked.

“I should think that would be obvious,” Iris said. “It is Lord Ashby’s fault that Jasper is making a mess of his life. I can’t very well trust the man with hands-on tutelage.”

“But how is him teaching you any different?” Harriet managed to ask in a hoarse whisper.

“Because once he recognizes that such advice and such behavior isn’t fit for a lady, then he’ll realize why it shouldn’t be suitable for a gentleman.” Iris tapped her fingers on the table. “He shall recognize this failure in logic and see the great error of these articles.”

“Do you not see the great irony here?” Agnes said.

Iris shook her head.

“He wants you to teach his sister how to be a genteel lady, and you want to don breeches and prance about London pretending to be a man.” Agnes shook her head. “Iris, this is a terrible idea.”

Iris couldn’t ignore such irony, but she felt certain this was the only way to prove to him that his advice was foolish. “I do not believe it will come to that. He will quickly his defeat and retreat. I’ll win the wager, and the articles will be finished.”

“Your reputation,” Harriet said.

“Yes, well, I’ve considered that. I’m not intent on destroying myself, if that is your concern.”

“It might be a side effect, nonetheless,” Agnes said. “This is foolish.”

“No, it is perfect. I shall win. He is an amateur. I know Society, and once he realizes that, he’ll back down,” Iris said. “Besides, Jasper is worth the risk. I must get through to him. I am already upon the shelf, as it were. There is no real reason why my reputation should matter much anymore.” She could not lose Jasper. She’d already lost her parents. She’d been but a girl when they’d died, and she hadn’t been able to do anything to help them. Jasper was different. She could save him.

“Poppycock,” Harriet said, having found her voice again. “You are as marriageable as the rest of us.”

“I am five and twenty, at least three years older than either of you,” Iris said. “And I do not need to marry for money.”

---