The two younger sisters prettily deferred to the elder two, allowing the more experienced Caroline,
ably seconded by Sarah, to dominate the responses.
When they finally parted, Augusta gave the order to return to Mount Street. "Don't want to rush it,"
she explained to four enquiring glances. "Much better to let them come to us."
Two days later, the ton was still reeling from the discovery of the Duke of Twyford's wards.
Amusement, from the wry to the ribald, had been the general reaction. Max had gritted his teeth and borne it, but the persistent demands of his friends to be introduced to his wards sorely tried his temper. He continued to refuse all such requests. He could not stop their eventual acquaintance but at least he
did not need directly to foster it. Thus, it was in a far from benign mood that he prepared to depart Delmere House on that fine April morning, in the company of two of his particular cronies, Lord Darcy Hamilton and George, Viscount Pilborough.
As they left the parlour at the rear of the house and entered the front hallway, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the street door. They paused in the rear of the hall as Hillshaw moved majestically past to answer it.
"I'm not at home, Hillshaw," said Max.
Hillshaw regally inclined his head. "Very good, Your Grace."
But Max had forgotten that Hillshaw had yet to experience the Misses Twinning en masse. Resistance was impossible and they came swarming over the threshold, in a frothing of lace and cambrics, bright smiles, laughing eyes and dancing curls.
The girls immediately spotted the three men, standing rooted by the stairs. Arabella reached Max first. "Dear guardian," she sighed languishingly, eyes dancing, "are you well?" She placed her small hand
on his arm.
Sarah, immediately behind, came to his other side. "We hope you are because we want to ask your permission for something." She smiled matter-of-factly up at him.
Lizzie simply stood directly in front of him, her huge eyes trained on his face, a smile she clearly knew
to be winning suffusing her countenance. "Please?"
Max raised his eyes to Hillshaw, still standing dumb by the door. The sight of his redoubtable henchman rolled up by a parcel of young misses caused his lips to twitch. He firmly denied the impulse to laugh.
The Misses Twinning were outrageous already and needed no further encouragement. Then his eyes
met Caroline's.
She had hung back, watching her sisters go through their paces, but as his eyes touched her, she moved forward, her hand outstretched. Max, quite forgetting the presence of all the others, took it in his.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Your Grace; I'm afraid they're sad romps."
"Not romps, Caro," protested Arabella, eyes fluttering over the other two men, standing mesmerized
just behind Max.
"It's just that we heard it was possible to go riding in the Park but Lady Benborough said we had to
have your permission," explained Sarah.
"So, here we are and can we?" asked Lizzie, big eyes beseeching.
"No," said Max, without further ado. As his aunt had observed, he knew every ploy. And the opportunities afforded by rides in the Park, where chaperons could be present but sufficiently remote, were endless. The first rule in a seduction was to find the opportunity to speak alone to the lady in question. And a ride in the Park provided the perfect setting.
Caroline's fine brows rose at his refusal. Max noticed that the other three girls turned to check their
elder sister's response before returning to the attack.
"Oh, you can't mean that! How shabby!"
"Why on earth not?"
"We all ride well. I haven't been out since we were home."
Both Arabella and Sarah turned to the two gentlemen still standing behind Max, silent auditors to the extraordinary scene. Arabella fixed Viscount Pilbor-ough with pleading eyes. "Surely there's nothing unreasonable in such a request?" Under the Viscount's besotted gaze, her lashes fluttered almost imperceptibly, before her lids decorously dropped, veiling those dancing eyes, the long lashes brushing
her cheeks, delicately stained with a most becoming blush.
The Viscount swallowed. "Why on earth not, Max? Not an unreasonable request at all. Your wards
would look very lovely on horseback."
Max, who was only too ready to agree on how lovely his wards would look in riding habits, bit back an oath. Ignoring Miss Twinning's laughing eyes, he glowered at the hapless Viscount.
Sarah meanwhile had turned to meet the blatantly admiring gaze of Lord Darcy. Not as accomplished
a flirt as Arabella, she could nevertheless hold her own, and she returned his warm gaze with a serene smile. "Is there any real reason why we shouldn't ride?"
Her low voice, cool and strangely musical, made Darcy Hamilton wish there were far fewer people in Max's hall. In fact, his fantasies would be more complete if they were not in Max's hall at all. He moved towards Sarah and expertly captured her hand. Raising it to his lips, he smiled in a way that had thoroughly seduced more damsels than he cared to recall. He could well understand why Max did not wish his wards to ride. But, having met this Twinning sister, there was no way in the world he was going to further his friend's ambition.
His lazy drawl reached Max's ears. ''I'm very much afraid, Max, dear boy, that you're going to have to concede. The opposition is quite overwhelming."
Max glared at him. Seeing the determination in his lordship's grey eyes and understanding his reasons
only too well, he knew he was outnumbered on all fronts. His eyes returned to Caroline's face to find
her regarding him quizzically. "Oh, very well!"
Her smile warmed him and at the prompting lift of her brows he introduced his friends, first to her,
and then to her sisters in turn. The chattering voices washed over him, his friends' deeper tones
running like a counterpoint in the cacophony. Caroline moved to his side.
"You're not seriously annoyed by us riding, are you?"
He glanced down at her. The stern set of his lips reluctantly relaxed. "I would very much rather you did not. However," he continued, his eyes roving to the group of her three sisters and his two friends, busy with noisy plans for their first ride that afternoon, "I can see that's impossible."
Caroline smiled. "We won't come to any harm, I assure you."
"Allow me to observe, Miss Twinning, that gallivanting about the London ton is fraught with rather
more difficulty than you would have encountered in American society, nor yet within the circle to
which you were accustomed in Hertfordshire."
A rich chuckle greeted his warning. "Fear not, dear guardian," she said, raising laughing eyes to his.
Max noticed the dimple, peeking irrepressibly from beside her soft mouth. "We'll manage."
Naturally, Max felt obliged to join the riding party that afternoon. Between both his and Darcy
Hamilton's extensive stables, they had managed to assemble suitable mounts for the four girls.
Caroline had assured him that, like all country misses, they could ride very well. By the time they
gained the Park, he had satisfied himself on that score. At least he need not worry over them losing control of the frisky horses and being thrown. But, as they were all as stunning as he had feared they would be, elegantly gowned in perfectly cut riding habits, his worries had not noticeably decreased.