Page 42 of Redemption of a Marquess

“I must fetch him,” Jeanine said.

“Allow me,” Miss Stone said, and started away.

“May I ask, who is Mr. Craig?” his lordship asked.

“Of course. You will not be surprised,” Jeanine said.

“I pray not, but I am curious to know how you made the acquaintance of a gentleman I am unaware of.”

Jeanine laughed. “You’re not unaware of him—not really. He is the gentleman who owns the shop where I purchased the game table.”

“Game table?’ Lady Claire repeated.

“Aye,” Jeanine said. “I had to replace it because—”

“I think we can forego the telling of that tedious story,” Grey interrupted.

Jeanine’s heart fell. “Aye.”

Miss Stone arrived with Mr. Craig. She made introductions and Mr. Craig bowed stiffly. “My lord, I hope I am not intruding. Miss Matheson was quite adamant that I attend. If this is an intrusion, I understand.”

“Not in the least,” the marquess said. “Miss Matheson may invite anyone she likes. You are welcome at Finley Hall.”

Jeanine caught the look of surprise that Lady Claire couldn’t quite hide.

The marquess introduced Mr. Craig to Lady Claire. The man bowed low again and Jeanine wondered if he might break in half.

The orchestra struck up a waltz. “A waltz,” she cried. “How enlightened of you to have the orchestra play a waltz, sir. This is perfect. You promised me a dance.”

His lordship lifted a brow. “I don’t remember that promise.”

“Oh yes, you did—and you cannot say you have forgotten because you are old, because you are not.”

“But if I have forgotten, then it must be from age.”

She grinned. “Then you admit you promised.”

“Very clever, my dear, but I admit nothing of the kind.”

She shrugged. “I suppose if you cannot remember, I will have to settle for dancing with Lord Pomeroy.”

“Lord Pomeroy is not the sort of man you should dance with, particularly the waltz.”

“But I promised. I cannot break my promise.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, then he addressed Lady Claire. “You’ll have to excuse me, Lady Claire.”

She gave him a pretty pout, and Jeanine repressed a roll of her eyes when the pout leaked into her voice, “But you promised me a walk, my lord.” She looked at him through her lashes. “I feel certain you have not forgotten that promise.”

He caught her hand and brushed his lips across her fingers. “I have not forgotten. But that will have to wait.” He released her hand, and turned. “Sir,” he said to Mr. Craig, and then to Miss Stone, “Miss Stone.”

Jeanine glimpsed the startlement on Lady Claire’s face before the woman’s eyes narrowed. Then his lordship cupped Jeanine’s elbow and turned her toward the dance floor.

At the edge of the dance floor, he swung her into his arms, his right hand pressed lightly against her back, his left clasping her right hand. He stepped back to arm’s length, then pulled her into the music with flawless rhythm. He steered them around a couple who nearly collided with them, then turned her in a tight circle that took her breath. Jeanine laughed, and when she looked up at him, he was smiling down at her. She smiled back and slid right as the press of his hand on her back cued her.

“You are an excellent dancer,” she said. “Not at all too old.”

“I never said I couldn’t dance.” His express turned serious. “I would prefer you didn’t dance with Lord Pomeroy.”