“So you admit my point? You can cut down an aspiring miss without a second thought, but you can’t lift an awkward girl with, obviously, no sense of propriety, nor expend any real effort in the attempt? Afraid it will be too difficult a task, eh?”
Whitby narrowed his eyes.
Timothy’s surge of confidence faded just a little; he tried not to gulp.
“If you learn her name, if she has any pretension to gentility at all, I will see that she is the toast of the Ton. Are you satisfied?”
Timothy grinned, looking up just in time to see that the matronly woman had finally succeeded in pulling the still-struggling girl back up the street. They were almost out of sight.
One of the men in the window groaned as his mate urged, “Pay up!”
“Oh, very.” Timothy tried not to laugh in the earl’s face. “I’ll let you know her name when I find it out.”
And he hurried out of the club to follow the two women.