Page 47 of A Secret Correspondence
“You left early last night,” he said, startling her from her thoughts.
“It is difficult for me to remain awake late when I need to open my shop so early.”
“Ah, I see. What a relief. I had feared you ran from me.”
She smiled to soften the tone of the conversation. “Of course not. It has been a pleasure spending time with a man of my own country, monsieur.”
Armand’s eyes sparkled. She had said the correct thing. It caused him to lean closer to the counter, his scent growing stronger. “Is there a situation in which I might be able to see you again?”
“How long do you intend to remain in Harewood? I believe you mentioned you might be here another sennight.”
“Yes, precisely that.”
“Have you met Ruth and Oliver Rose?” she asked, her heart beginning to pound.
“I have.”
“They were telling me just last night they hope to put together a party this week to play battledore and shuttlecock if the weather cooperates. Ruth even mentioned it could be played in her ballroom if the weather does not.”
“A determined woman, I take it.”
“An apt descriptor.” Marguerite glanced at the women bringing their ribbons to the counter. “I would not be surprised if you return to the Faversham estate to find a card awaiting you.”
A slow smile spread over Armand’s mouth. “Have you requested my presence, Madame Perreau? I am exceedingly honored.”
She would not lie to him. Instead, she took the ribbons, discussed payment with the women, and wrapped their purchases in brown paper. She was relieved from needing to speak to him further by the entrance of Mrs. Chatham and Mrs. Price just as she was tying the twine around their packages.
“I look forward to seeing you again,” Armand said.
She dipped her head, but said no more, instead clasping her hands lightly in front of her and turning her attention towardthe vicar’s wife and her friend. “How may I help you both today?”
Mrs. Chatham leaned in, lowering her voice. “We have come with news, Madame Perreau, that we found it most important to pass on. Pray tell, have you spoken to Miss Snubbs already this day?”
“I have not had that pleasure, no.”
Mrs. Price took a small step forward as the bell signaled the exit of the French party, her gray hair parted down the middle and drawn back into a severe knot below her bonnet. “It is being said that she danced not only twice, butthreetimes with Mr. Kettleborough. Three!”
Gossip. How deplorable.
“I did not see any such thing,” Marguerite promised.
Both ladies leaned back slightly, drawing in a breath.
“You were present?” Mrs. Chatham asked.
“At the ball?” Mrs. Price pressed, her eyes growing wide.
Marguerite realized her blunder. She should not have told the town’s greater gossips about her attendance. Even they would not see her nationality as a valid reason, surely.
“I witnessed Miss Snubbs walking on the arm of a gentleman in the garden, but there were many other people around, and it was very brief.”
Mrs. Chatham’s smile grew wide again. “Oh, it is true then.”
“She will receive a proposal of marriage now.” Mrs. Price nodded to herself.
“After three sets in one evening, there is no other recourse, is there?” Mrs. Chatham said.
“We should speak to Miss Snubbs before drawing conclusions,” Marguerite said. “Perhaps she does not love him.”
