Maddie smiled. “Perhaps I should not have spoken so bluntly, although it is no secret that the mothers of the debutantes will be scrutinizing the eligible bachelors.”
“Why? Can a lass nae decide for herself what mon attracts her?”
Maddie looked shocked. “That would be considered bold and totally improper. Matches are carefully negotiated according to title, if possible. The first sons are sought after since they will be heirs, but second and third sons are acceptable depending on what businesses they may be in.”
It sounded like an auction for stud horses to him, but Jamie held his tongue. Miss Winslow would probably swoon if he used the word. “And the lasses? Do the men choose the ones with the best dowries?”
“Sometimes,” Maddie said seriously, “if the gentleman has a title but his land is entailed and he is in debt, yes. But often, location is equally important. A good example would be Newburn and Cantford. They border each other. A marriage between Jillian and your brother was most wise.”
Wisdom had little to do with it, although Jamie could understand the concept. For centuries Highland clans had made marriages for similar reasons, but Ian had married Jillian because he was besotted with her, a fact that secretly relieved Jamie. As laird, Ian had little choice but to marry and produce heirs. Not that Jamie ever wanted to be as barmy-headed as his brother was, but it seemed there should be some liking between a husband and wife—not to mention a lass who enjoyed a good romp in bed.
His cock immediately sprang to attention at that thought. Jamie would wager a gold coin that a lass as fiery as Mari would—
“So it is very important that Mari gets an invitation,” Maddie was saying, “since this is the first event. The gentlemen need to know she is available.”
Available? Somehow that thought did not sit well with Jamie. The whole thing sounded too much like picking brood mares for stock. The reason he was here was to make sure Mari would come to no harm. If some English dandy tried to take advantage of her, the mon would have to answer to him.
“Why has this invitation nae arrived then?”
Maddie hesitated, studying a spot on the carpet.
“What is it, lass?”
She looked up reluctantly. “Mari thinks it is because of what happened yesterday at the modiste shop. One simply does not toss a lady over one’s shoulder. It isquiteimproper.”
Jamie raised a brow. “We were the only ones in the shop. Do ye think the owner gossiped about it?”
“I doubt it. As juicy a bit ofon-ditas it was, Madam Dubois is a business woman. She would want to keep Mari—and myself—as clients.” Maddie shook her head. “Perhaps a passerby saw what was happening and spread the rumor. It would be enough to keep Lady Tindale from issuing an invitation.” She stood. “I had better go talk with Mari.”
Jamie frowned after she left, remembering the two ladies who were so interested in whatever was in the window of the next shop. Even though he had set Mari on her feet instead of carrying her out into the street, he’d done so in the doorway. Those two biddies could have seen it.
Damn English Society for being so snobbish. He might not have used the best judgment—the lass did try his patience—but Mari should not have to pay for his behavior. He would try to make it right.
It seemed he would have to pay a personal call to Lady Tindale.
“I told you the invitation would come,” Maddie said Friday evening as she looked over Mari’s shoulder in the mirror of the bed chamber. She loosened a few tendrils of Mari’s hair to fall softly on an exposed shoulder. “There. That looks much better. Effie had your hair piled too tightly.”
Mari tilted her head, enjoying the feel of the soft curls against her skin. She was wearing a gown of pale peach silk with short, puffy sleeves and a square-necked design showing just a hint of cleavage, but not enough to reveal the smallfleur-de-lis-shaped birthmark above her right nipple. The pastel color of her gown gave a natural blush to her cheeks, although she pinched them a tad to make them brighter. She would have liked to rouge her lips, but Aunt Agnes had forbidden it.
She looked up at Maddie. Her friend’s coloring was so different from hers—chestnut hair and eyes more greenish than blue—but the saffron-colored gown set off the auburn glints in her hair. “I was so afraid I had been snubbed.”
“Nonsense. Lady Tindale’s butler explained all that when he delivered your invitation yesterday. With your late arrival to Town, she had simply forgotten she had not sent it out. Quite understandable, given all the supervising of preparations Lady Tindale had to do.”
Mari picked up her reticule and stood, smoothing the soft lines of the gown. “I was a little surprised that she had specifically issued an invitation to Jamie too.”
“Why would she not? He is the Earl of Cantford’s brother, after all.”
“Well, I hope he behaves himself and does not hover over me the entire night.”
Maddie smiled. “I suspect when the other girls see him, it will not be a problem. You will probably have to fight through the crush just to get near him.”
“I hope that happens. My plan for this Season is to find at least one debutante who will distract him enough to leave me alone. I will never find a beau—let alone a husband—if Jamie lurks behind me with a scowl on his face.
“Are you sure that is what you want?”
“Of course it is. Actually, it will be rather amusing to see those ninnyhammers, Violetta and Amelia, bat their eyelashes at him. Jamie is far too much of a rake to fall into the parson’s trap.”
Maddie gave her a strange look. “I do not think he is a rake at all.”
