Page 31 of Redemption of a Marquess

“Lord, Valan, you’re in a mood. What is wrong?”

“I would like this ball to go off well,” he replied.

She studied him. “You are serious.”

“I am,” he replied. Still, she hesitated. Valan crossed to the bell pull near the door and rang for a servant.

“What are you doing?” Peigi asked.

“Introducing you to Miss Matheson.”

A young maid appeared a moment later and Valan bade her bring Miss Matheson and Miss Stone to the sitting room. He returned with his cousin to the room and, a moment later, the maid brought the two women.

Jeanine’s eyes met his and her face lit with a smile. “Did you see the roses, Grey? They are the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

“We are not at home, Jeanine,” he said. “You will address me as ‘sir’ or ‘my lord.’”

“But this is your cousin’s home. She is family.” Her eyes shifted to Peigi. “Is this her? Of course, you are her,” she went on before anyone could reply. Jeanine hurried across the room to the couch where Peigi sat. She gave a pretty curtsey then clapped her hands. “You are beautiful. Of course, I knew you would be. I wish I had blonde hair like yours. Mine is plain old brown. Your blue dress compliments your hair perfectly. Do you like Miss Stone’s dress? Oh dear, we haven’t introduced you to Miss Stone. How rude.” Jeanine looked at Valan

“I was waiting for you to finish, my dear.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Is that your way of saying that I talk too much?” She grinned. “You may proceed, sir.”

He angled his head in thanks, then said, “Peigi, as you must have guessed, this is my ward Miss Jeanine Matheson, and this is her companion, Miss Stone.”

Miss Stone curtsied and murmured, “My lady.”

“Do you like Miss Stone’s dress?” Jeanine asked. “Mrs. Morgan made it for her. I did her hair, but I think you could do better.”

Peigi blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your hair is so beautifully done that I know you can help Miss Stone with hers. I am only tolerably good at styling a lady’s hair.”

“Of course, I know how to style a lady’s hair,” Peigi said, “But it is Matilda who styled mine.”

“But you directed her, I’m sure,” Jeanine said. “And you would accept nothing less than perfection.”

“That is true,” Peigi demurred.

Jeanine beamed. “Would you do her hair for the party? You are coming, of course?”

Peigi looked at Valan and he lifted a brow. “Well, my dear,” he said, “will you be attending?”