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Sophie desperately wanted to laugh. Poor Jennette looked so put out by all this. “What are your plans for tonight?”
“Lady Cantwell is having a dinner party. I’ll deliver everything after Elizabeth’s literary salon tomorrow night.”
Lady Cantwell was due here for a tea reading in an hour. Sophie smiled. The tea leaf reading was bound to tell her that Lord Blackburn must be invited to dinner or something dreadful might happen.
“You are welcome to join us tomorrow night for the salon,” Jennette added with a smile. “You know we love your company.”
“Perhaps, but not all of Society agrees with that sentiment. I am quite the thing as long as I stay in my place and don’t venture into your world.”
“Regardless, come along,” Jennette pleaded. “I could use the support. I have a very strange feeling about introducing Susan Whitmore to him.”
“Why are you introducing him to Miss Whitmore if you believe he might be happy with Miss Sheldon?” Sophie watched Jennette’s reaction with a smile. Her friend’s face tightened, her hands fisted, and a deep frown brought her eyebrows downward.
“Because there is always the possibility that he and Miss Sheldon won’t suit. Or her father might decide not to let Blackburn court his daughter.”
“Very well, then. What has you so concerned about Miss Whitmore?” Sophie asked softly.
“She and her mother were too agreeable. They know all about him and were willing to put aside his reputation for an introduction.” Jennette frowned. “It makes no sense.”
“Hmm, I haven’t heard of any rumors regarding the girl. Perhaps after three Seasons, they feel Blackburn would be their best option before she’s on the shelf.”
“I just cannot believe that, Sophie.” Jennette reached for her teacup. “He is not received and therefore anyone he marries takes the chance that she will be scorned unless her reputation is sterling.”
“What do you think is the reason, then?”
Jennette looked away. “I fear she might be with child and trying to trap any man she can.”
“Very well, then. I will attend and I’ll try to perform a reading on her.”
Sophie picked up her teacup and sipped as she thought. Getting Jennette and Blackburn together might be more difficult than she’d imagined. She needed an accomplice in this mission. Someone who knew them both. And as much as he would hate her for asking again, there was only one perfect man for this mission.
“I can usually sense a pregnancy. May I bring a guest with me tomorrow?”
Jennette’s black eyebrows rose in question. “Of course. Anyone I might know?”
Sophie smiled. “Yes, but just a dear friend of mine.”
Matthew couldn’t help the frown from forming on his face as he picked up a glass of sherry from the refreshment table. Lady Cantwell’s invitation to dinner shocked and pleased him. He had no idea how Jennette managed to wrangle an invitation out of the oldest and most eccentric matron in the ton. But he supposed he would have to thank Jennette for it.
After seeing the truth of her shopping habits thrown in his face this morning, he had no desire even to speak with her. John had told him that her father and brother spoiled her. Her actions today only confirmed his assumption that she was frivolous and spoiled.
He watched her as she spoke with Lady Cantwell. Jennette’s blue eyes flashed with what looked like anger but she smiled at the older lady. Lady Cantwell glanced over at him and then back at Jennette. Finally, Jennette nodded.
Lady Cantwell moved away from Jennette and ambled toward him. The older woman pressed heavily on her cane as she walked. He had no idea how old she was, but he would guess somewhere in her mid-eighties.
“There you are, my boy,” she said as she reached his position. “I wanted to welcome you to my little party.”
Little party? There had to be at least fifty people here tonight. His own dining room wouldn’t seat half these people.
“Thank you, my lady,” he replied and then bowed over her ancient hand.
She tilted her head and sized him up. “Perhaps the gossips have been wrong about you.”
“Oh?”
“I see nothing that would make you unwelcome amongst us. In fact, I believe somewhere beneath that scoundrel mask is a gentleman.” Lady Cantwell made her declaration and moved on toward another guest, her cane tapping a slow rhythm as she left.
“She is a widow. Perhaps you can charm her in the next two weeks.”
