Free No Place for a Dame by Connie Brockway Page A

more ladies to arrive with their offspring in tow?” she asked. This was not how things were supposed to evolve. Not at all.
    “I expect so, yes.”
    Avery looked at the proposed bridal candidate with increased interest but after a few seconds decided there was nothing there to engage Strand’s notice. Just a pretty girl in a pretty, frothy dress, sitting prettily.
    “And you say these ladies will parade their daughters in front of Lord Strand like cattle at a county fair waiting for him to choose from amongst them?”
    Neville burst out laughing. His mother glared at him from across the room. He quickly stifled his amusement. “Ahem. In a manner of speaking, I suppose so.”
    “But that’s barbaric.”
    “You really have been living the life of an ascetic, haven’t you?” Neville asked wonderingly. “Whatever were your parents thinking to let you come to Strand so unprepared?”
    Avery was astounded and not only because, frankly, Neville Demsforth did not look any more prepared to deal with Society than he seemed to feel she was, but because no one had ever spoken to her like this before, as though she was slightly below average in some area or other. It was a unique sensation. “I… ah… they’re dead,” she said, offering a silent apology to her very much alive father.
    Neville studied her for a moment more before seeming to come to a decision. “You need a guide, my friend. Someone to enlighten you.”
    “Thank you, but Lord Strand—”
    “Is a generation removed from you and has enough ton bronze on him to stand in for a statue. Besides, he is… well, I can’t think you two have much in common.”
    She glanced at Giles. He embodied élan, his easy, clever manner merely an extension of his self-confidence, his unassailable superiority. Though only thirty feet separated them, she had never been more aware of distance. Not only physical distance, but the distance between their experiences and lives.
    And futures.
    Neville was right: Giles belonged to a world she would never fully understand, one that even in her disguise she could participate in only on the fringes. But while she was here it would be interesting to learn something of it. Like a tourist at some foreign port of call.
    “I offer my services as a far more likely alternative,” Neville said, smiling solicitously. It did not offend her since there didn’t seem to be anything critical in his assessment, only honest concern.
    She couldn’t recall the last time someone had exhibited any sort of protective impulse towards her. She’d run free under her father’s benign indifference, and the old marquess had shipped her off without a second thought to whatever illustrious scholar would have her. She knew how to take care of herself.
    “And how exactly would you do that?” she asked.
    “We could take a ride in my new curricle ’round St. James Park or even in the city proper. Streets aren’t nearly so crowded now that the Season’s over.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, mindful of her promise to Strand that she would remain hermitized in her rooms. “I came to London to study stars, not the ton.”
    “You will be studying stars. London has her own set of luminaries, Mr. Quinn, ones that can rival in brilliance any stars you have hitherto known. Though with the Season over they are much more elusive. Makes it all a better game, eh? It will be fun, I promise you.”
    Games? Fun? He was twinkling at her in such a good-humored sort of way that she didn’t want to disappoint him. It had been a long time since anyone had suggested she do something simply for pleasure.
    “We shall see.”
    “I’ll come by Friday afternoon.”
    She had no intention of going, but neither did she want to get involved in some silly pull-and-push conversation and this had all the earmarks of becoming one. Neville looked so eager. So determined. He looked, she realized, more in need of a friend than she.
    But she’d always been very independent and quite