Harriet gave him a cool little smile. “There are so many people in your house that it’s difficult to enumerate one’s acquaintances.”
“After your appointment, then,” he said softly. “I stay up quite late and I’ll warrant Kitty does as well. Shall we say eleven o’clock?”
All the stable boy mentioned was learning how to trot. And mount. How long could that take?
“I’m not sure Kitty will want to stay up so late,” Harriet said. “It sounds as if she had a strenuous day’s exercise.”
“Oh, it’s not so strenuous,” Kitty said with a giggle. “I spent a great deal of it on my back.”
The little line between Isidore’s brow deepened. “I’m afraid that I couldn’t possibly join you at that hour,” she said, politely enough. “I’m quite exhausted.”
“What a pity,” Strange said. He stopped looking at Harriet and gave Isidore a lavish smile. “It won’t be nearly as enjoyable without you.”
Harriet had a sudden, shocking realization. If Strange ever gave her that kind of smile, she would lose her composure. She might even beg him to take her to bed.
“Eleven o’clock,” Kitty said. “Would you like more angels than just myself? I’m sure—” she oogled Strange “—any number of Graces would love to perform tonight, Lord Strange. To sing madrigals, we need three.”
“I think all we need tonight is you,” Strange said smoothly.
Kitty erupted into giggles.
A thought occurred to Harriet. Something about what Kitty might be thinking. Her mouth fell open and at that same moment, Isidore’s fingers dug into her arm.
“I need to speak to you. At once!” she hissed.
Strange was standing up, signaling a general move away from the table. He paused just for a moment. “My guests await, and you, Mr. Cope, have an appointment…Shall we say eleven o’clock in the library? Mr. Povy can direct you.” Without waiting for a response, he walked away.
Isidore’s grip strengthened. “Harriet!”
Harriet turned to Kitty, wanting to say something. But there was a deep excitement and—yes—enjoyment in Kitty’s eyes that stopped the words in her mouth. Kitty was perfectly happy with the idea of Mr. Cope, Lord Strange, and one solitary angel. Harriet swallowed.
“Eleven o’clock!” Kitty said, trotting away.
Isidore dragged Harriet to the side of the room. “Do you have any idea what Kitty is planning to do tonight, Harriet? Do you?”
“I just figured it out!” Harriet said, panic making her head reel. “I had no idea!”
“You must stay in your room,” Isidore stated. “Better: you can sleep with me in case Strange walks straight into your bedchamber.” She looked around, but almost everyone had left the dining room. “Harriet, this is a—a degenerate house! These people are—are—they are doing things—”
Harriet couldn’t help laughing a little. “Isidore, you knew that. Why do you think that Jemma said she wouldn’t come here, even though she’d hosted all sorts of shocking parties in Paris? Her Paris events roused scandals because someone’s costume was a bit risqué, or a married woman paraded around with someone else’s husband. Strange’s reputation—and his house parties—are on a totally different scale.”
“I didn’t understand the reality of it. It makes me feel unclean to even be here! Where is Villiers? I thought he was supposed to protect us. Harriet, what are you going to do?” Isidore’s eyes were bright and alarmed.