Page 46 of Redemption of a Marquess

“Miss Smith.” Miss Stone angled her head toward the girl on their left. “Lady Bethany.” Miss Stone looked at the other girl then curtsied, and Jeanine could have kissed her.

The two girls acknowledged Miss Stone with a bare nod, then looked at Jeanine as Miss Smith said, “Bethany is hosting a card party tomorrow afternoon. You simply must come.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Jeanine repeated, and Lady Bethany nodded.

“Do say you will come,” Bethany said.

Their eyes remained fixed on Jeanine, as if Miss Stone didn’t exist.

“I adore cards,” Jeanine adopted the same exaggerated, cultured tones the girls used. “We would be delighted to come.”

They blinked in surprise.

“We?” Lady Bethany repeated.

Jeanine nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Oh yes, Miss Stone is a wonderful Pharo player.”

“Pharo?” the girls said in unison, then exchanged a glance.

“Lord Northington will be pleased to hear that I’m getting out,” Jeanine went on as if not noticing their discomfort. “Just yesterday, he commented that Miss Stone and I must accept more invitations.”

“Of course,” Lady Bethany quickly agreed, and Jeanine had to force back a disgusted roll of her eyes. “I am so pleased you can come,” Lady Bethany went on with the same sickening fervor.

Jeanine curtsied. “We are pleased to accept, my lady.”

Irritation flicked in the girl’s eyes, but she smiled brightly. “Wonderful. I will send round my direction in the morning.”

Lady Bethany turned, and Miss Smith followed like an obedient lap dog. They halted as a group of elderly matrons strolled past and Miss Smith said to Lady Bethany in a loud whisper, “Of all the nerve, inviting her.”

“It was all I could do to remain civil,” replied Lady Bethany.

Jeanine looked sharply at Miss Stone, who seemed oblivious to the insults. That was impossible, however. Miss Stone was too intelligent not to know the malicious creatures were referring to her. Jeanine took a step toward them, then halted when Miss Stone grasped her arm.

“I cannot allow you to get into trouble on my account,” Miss Stone whispered.

“They deserve to be lashed,” Jeanine hissed back.

“Perhaps,” Miss Stone replied, “but you mustn’t allow them to goad you into doing something that will embarrass you.”

“You can’t expect culture from a country girl,” Lady Bethany said.

Miss Stone took two quick steps to where the girls stood, backs to them. Her slippered toe appeared from beneath her skirt and tamped down on the hem of Miss Smith’s satin dress.

“There you are, Miss Stone.”

Jeanine whirled to the left at the soft drawl of the marquess’s voice. He smiled at her, then turned his attention to Miss Stone, who now faced him, hands clasped before her.

The elderly ladies passed, and the two girls began walking, oblivious to the near ruin of Miss Smith’s dress.

“I must compliment you on your pink slippers, Miss Stone,” his lordship said.

Miss Stone smiled serenely. “Thank you, sir, but Mrs. Morgan sewed them. All credit must go to her.”

“I see. Perhaps I will ask Mrs. Morgan to sew another pair.”

“That is too kind of you, my lord, and unnecessary. These are sufficient.”

“Aye,” he replied. “But you need a pair that doesn’t have a mind of their own.”