Page 32 of Redemption of a Marquess

Chapter Seven

The next ten days flew by and Jeanine was surprised to find that the marquess was right. In his large home, she saw him but half a dozen times, and then only in passing. He had promised to attend tonight’s party, but still, it was only just after breakfast, and waiting until the evening seemed an interminable amount of time not to see him. He made no appearance and Miss Stone’s efforts to divert her attention were for naught.

“Perhaps we could shop for a fan to match the ivory gown you’re to wear.” Miss Stone finished refilling their teacups, then returned the pot to the tray and lifted her cup from the coffee table. “Mrs. Morgan suggested a fan.”

Jeanine clasped the top edge of the sofa back and rested her cheek against her hand. “Do you think Grey doesn’t like me anymore?”

“Of course, he likes you,” Miss Stone said. “What would make you think otherwise?” She met Jeanine’s gaze and sipped her tea.

“He’s never around,” Jeanine replied.

“He is an important man. I’m sure that business keeps him busy.”

Jeanine sighed. “But it’s almost as if he’s avoiding me.”

“I haven’t noticed anything like that,” Miss Stone said.

“Really? You’re not trying to spare my feelings?”

“No, ma’am. I would never think of being anything less than honest with you.”

Jeanine beamed. “That’s what I like best about you, Miss Stone. You’re not like so many others who only say what benefits them.”

Miss Stone smiled serenely. “I have never been a good liar.”

Jeanine laughed. “You say that as if it is a bad thing.”

“There are times when it is best not to be forthcoming.”

Jeanine grimaced. “You’re right, of course. I often get into trouble by being too honest.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping? You will want to please his lordship by looking your best.”

Jeanine lifted her head. “You’re right.”

Forty-five minutes later, they entered a small shop that sold only the finest ladies’ fans. Jeanine took no more than ten minutes to choose a plain bone fan with a single hummingbird painted on it.

They left the shop and Jeanine linked arms with Miss Stone. “We are off on a special errand, Miss Stone.”

Miss Stone looked at Jeanine, her expression perfect politeness, and she said, “Indeed, Miss Matheson?”

Jeanine nodded. “Indeed.”

They waited for two passing couples, then started across the walk to their carriage. Their footman, seated next to Mr. Potts, the driver, spotted them and stood from the driver’s seat. He leapt down and opened the coach door.

Jeanine brought herself and Miss Stone to a stop and shook her head. “We will be walking.” She looked up at the driver. “Mr. Potts, can you tell me where we can find a shop that sells cravats?”

“I beg your pardon, Miss, cravats?”

She nodded.

“You want to go to a men’s shop, Miss?”

“That is where they sell cravats,” she said.

“Are you sure, Miss?”

“Sure that is where they sell men’s cravats?” she asked. “Of course. Where else would I buy a cravat?”