Page 38 of Sinful Persuasion of a Lady in the Making
Chapter Thirteen
“And who shall I say is calling?” the butler asked.
“Miss Jenny Jones,” she said, offering him a weak smile. “Lord Hartwood and I met last night,” she added unnecessarily.
“All right, Miss Jones. Please wait here. I shall inquire as to My Lord’s availability.”
His footsteps clipped loudly on the tiled floor as he marched away, back so straight that Jenny briefly wondered if it hurt to remain so upright. But her mind quickly flittered back to the matter at hand. As soon as Lord Hartwood’s butler had opened the door, Jenny began to panic that she’d made a mistake.
You were a fool to come! What will he think?
She shifted her weight, careful not to make a sound in the hallway, hoping not to attract any more attention to herself than she already had by turning up unannounced. Silently, she willed Lord Hartwood to appear, grin on his face, a welcome as warm as the one he had given her the night before.
“Miss Jones,” the butler said, returning to the hall. “Unfortunately, Lord Hartwood is indisposed at the moment, but if you would like to follow me, Lady Diana would like a word.”
“Oh, no,” Jenny said, shaking her head, her panic now stripping through her rapidly. “It’s all right, I’ll—”
“If you’ll follow me, Miss Jones,” he said, firmer this time, and then he swiveled on the balls of his feet. She had no choice but to follow.
The house was large and fanciful—more so than their own, although significantly less than either of the Duke’s residences. They walked through the length of the house to reach what seemed to be the drawing room, freshly decorated in lemon yellow. It seemed to Jenny to scream of summer, of sunshine and happiness and brightly colored flowers, and she instantly fell in love with the room.
“My Lady,” the butler said, “Miss Jenny Jones for you.”
Jenny’s attention was drawn sharply back to the reason she was there, stealing away the peace she felt upon entering the room. Her heart, once calmed, now began to pound again and she swallowed.
Lady Diana Nicholes sat on the couch at the far end of the room, her knees high thanks to her tipped toes, her hands clasped together in her lap, and a fierce but curious expression on her face. A book lay casually by her side, discarded, or perhaps left there to show the lady’s prowess. Jenny, with her newfound love of reading, desperately wanted to ask her what the title was, but she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate.
“Thank you, Smith,” Lady Diana said, and the butler took a bow before leaving.
When the door closed softly behind Jenny, Lady Diana turned her attention fully on her, and for a moment her breath caught. She told herself to breathe. She was not doing anything wrong.
“Miss Jones,” Lady Diana said, her voice rich and plumy. “I understand you are here to visit my brother. May I ask the reason for your visit today?”
She had not invited Jenny to take a seat, and the lack of invitation hung in the air.
She is showing me my place, Jenny thought, her jaw clenched against the thought of it. She stood awkwardly, hands behind her back, but she kept her face still and unwavering, silently offering her own message:I will not be cowed.
“I have Lord Hartwood’s handkerchief,” she said, holding the scrap of fabric aloft. “I came to return it, with my many thanks for his kindness, last night.”
“How verymodernof you, Miss Jones,” Lady Diana said. “It is much more traditional to wait for the gentleman to call on you. Didn’t Lady Alison teach you even that?”
Jenny pushed her lips together, forcing herself to ignore the insult and smile sweetly at Lady Diana instead.
“I was not entirely sure he was aware he had left it in my person,” Jenny said, still holding the handkerchief out.
“You may leave it on the table,” Lady Diana said, indicating the low coffee table in front of her with a condescending wave of her hand.
Jenny bent down and let the handkerchief drop onto the table, not knowing quite what to do. Lady Diana picked up her book, and Jenny took that as her cue to leave. She would have to find some other pretext with which to visit Lord Hartwood in the future.
“Good day, then,” she said, her voice harsh to show her displeasure at being dismissed in such a way, and then she turned to leave.
Just as she reached the door, though, Lady Diana’s voice made her turn back.
“It’s quite amusing, really,” she said, looking up from her book. “The Viscount himself has some sort of scrap of fabric he wishes to return to you, too.”
Jenny turned all the way around before she responded with a confused, “Scrap of fabric?”
“Yes,” Lady Diana said, smirking as she put her book back down. “A shawl or some such. He found at the ball last night, and he believes it belongs to you.”
