Redemption of a Marquess

by Tarah Scott

The man frowned. “The Marquess of Northington?”

  She nodded. “But it seems you don’t have what I want.”

  The shopkeeper drew himself up. “My shop carries only the highest quality furniture. Perhaps something on Glenmore Street would be more to your taste.”

  “Miss Matheson is the Marquess of Northington’s ward,” Miss Stone said. “She does not shop on Glenmore Street.”

  The man frowned. “I hadn’t heard he took a ward.”

  “He has,” Miss Stone said in a chilly voice. “In fact, he’s throwing a ball in her honor this very evening.”

  The man’s head snapped in Jeanine’s direction.

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Perhaps you would like to come.”

  His eyes widened.

  “I’m not certain his lordship would be pleased,” Miss Stone said.

  “He said I could invite guests,” Jeanine said.

  “He said you could invite friends from Lady Paddington’s School for Young Ladies,” Miss Stone pointed out.

  Jeanine waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, pooh. It makes no difference.” She smiled at the shopkeeper. “Surely, you would like to come? You know where we live, of course.”

  The man remained mute, but shook his head.

  “Never mind,” she said. “I can write it down for you. Oh, it is a shame you don’t have a game table. You see, he had a game table, but it was broken, and it is my fault because Mrs. McPhee and the deliveryman got into a row.”

  “A row?” the man repeated.

  She nodded. “Mrs. McPhee was angry with the deliveryman because she was certain he was trying to cheat Grey. I like Mrs. McPhee, but I think it was just a mistake. The deliveryman delivered too many vegetables--according to Mrs. McPhee, you understand. Gr-er, his lordship said he didn’t think they were enough vegetables. They had a terrible disagreement and Mrs. McPhee punched him in the jaw.”

  “Punched him in the jaw?” the man mimicked.

  “Exactly,” Jeanine said. “Mrs. McPhee uses her right hand to knead dough, which means she is very strong. I think that is very fortunate, for a woman must be able to defend herself. Don’t you agree?” She smiled before he could answer, and added, “Of course you do. When Mrs. McPhee punched the deliveryman, he crashed into the marquess’s game table. So, if not for the fact that he was throwing this party in my honor, the deliveryman would never have come, and he and Mrs. McPhee would never have been fighting, and the table wouldn’t have been broken. That makes it my fault. He didn’t complain—the marquess, I mean—but he wouldn’t, for his manners are too good.” She slanted a glance at Miss Stone. “Isn’t that so, Miss Stone?”

  “Indeed, it is,” she replied.

  “There you are,” Jeanine said. “The table was a very nice table, so it is only fair I should replace it.” She sighed. “I do wish you had one.”

  The shopkeeper blinked. “But I do have one.”

  “You do?” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

  The man looked helplessly at Miss Stone, who shrugged. He sighed in obvious resignation and said, “If you will follow me, please,” then turned.

  He led them through the curtained door into a large storeroom crammed full of furniture. They weaved through the cramped rows and she spotted the game table beside a hideous green divan. When they reached the table, Jeanine knew it was exactly what she’d been looking for. The black and white checkered marble top was flawless. The dark wood, cherrywood, she guessed, perfectly complemented the marble. A drawer on the left side might hold cards and chess pieces while a lower shelf provided extra storage.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Do you like it, Miss Stone?”

  “I believe his lordship will be very pleased,” she said.

  Jeanine looked at the shopkeeper. “Can you deliver it today, please?”

  “Today? I would have to get a deliveryman.”

  Jeanine laughed. “Just be careful to bring only the table, or Mrs. McPhee is liable to punch him.” The man’s eyes widened, and Jeanine added, “No need to worry. I’ll make sure she understands the table is to be delivered. Please say you can do it today. It would be a great favor, as the ball is this evening and I so want to surprise him beforehand. I must give you the address. That way you will know where to come to the party tonight.”

  “I am certain the Marquess of Northington would not include me on his guest list,” the shopkeeper said.

  “Why not? The party begins at eight. No one arrives at eight, I think—if they want to be fashionable, that is. But, of course, you know that.” She smiled again and wondered why the shopkeeper had gone pale.

  Chapter Eight

  “You are so clever to suggest a walk in the park.” Jeanine turned her face to the sun and slowed her walk alongside Lady Guilford. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the soft warmth that seemed to penetrate her bones. “I believe I was driving poor Miss Stone to distraction looking for something to do. She must be glad for a little time away from me.”

  “Walking is very good for the constitution,” Lady Guilford said.

  Jeanine opened her eyes in time to avoid a large bump in the path. “My mother often walks the path from our house to town,” she said.

  “Where is your town?” Lady Guilford asked.

  “Perth.”

  A young couple passed them. Lady Guilford acknowledged them with a graceful cant of her head and they responded in kind. “Your mother allowed you to come to Edinburgh alone?” she asked when they’d passed the man and woman.

  Jeanine shook her head. “Joshua brought me—well, he and my youngest sister and her husband. I suppose that means Rebecca and her husband are who brought me. Though it was Joshua’s wagon and he drove.”

  “Who, pray tell, is Joshua?” asked Lady Guilford.

  Jeanine spotted a butterfly hovering over a patch of lush heather, just off the path. “A lad I grew up with,” she said as they approached, and the butterfly flitted away.

  Lady Guilford cast her a sideways glance. “It was kind of this childhood friend to bring you all the way to Edinburgh.”

  “He is kind that way.”

  “I see. Will he take you back home?”

  Jeanine looked sharply at her. “I don’t plan to return. Grey promised to help me find an elderly husband.”

  Lady Guilford raised brow. “An elderly husband?”

  Jeanine nodded. “Aye. I plan to use his money to open a school like Lady Peddington’s.”

  Behind them, a creak of wheels approached and a phaeton passed them on a coach path to their left.

  “I suppose Joshua doesn’t approve of the idea of you running a ladies’ school,” Lady Guilford said.

  Jeanine made a face. “Not in the least. He believes ladies should stay at home to cook, clean, and have their husband’s children.”

  “He could not have been happy you preferred Edinburgh to marrying him.”

  “He wasn’t at all pleased.” Jeanine caught herself and frowned. “You tricked me. That was unkind of you.”

  “Not at all,” Lady Guilford replied. “Is there some reason you would want to keep secret the fact that you have an admirer?”

  “Nae,” Jeanine hedged.

  Lady Guilford gave her a penetrating stare and waited.

  Jeanine relaxed. “It’s just that if I don’t find a gentleman to marry then I will have to return home and marry Joshua. I would be stuck in his cottage all day with a dozen of his children.”

  “Perhaps not a dozen,” Lady Guilford said with a half-smile.

  “One is too many,” Jeanine said.

  Lady Guilford sidestepped a rock. “Do you not want children?”

  “They are a great deal of trouble,” Jeanine said. “Do you have children?”

  “Nae.”

  “There you go. You understand.”

  Lady Guilford nodded, but something in the slight downturn of her mouth gave Jeanine pause.

  “Surely, there are men to choose from
other than Joshua,” Lady Guilford said. “You are young. Go home and let the young men court you.”

  Jeanine shook her head. “Oh, I can never return home,” Jeanine replied. “My mother has remarried.”

  “Your mother has remarried,” Lady Guilford began, then broke off when a man turned onto the path up ahead.

  He neared. Something about him seemed familiar. Lady Guilford whispered unintelligible words under her breath. In the next instant, Jeanine recognized Lord Gordon. He lifted a hand and waved, then called out to them as he quickened his step.

  He reached them, and they were forced to stop when he halted and bowed. “Lady Guilford, what a pleasure to see you.”

  “Lord Gordon,” she replied in a cool voice.

  He seemed not to notice, and looked at Jeanine. “A pleasure to see you, Miss Matheson. I did not know you liked to walk.”

  Jeanine followed Lady Guilford’s example and replied in an aloof tone, “Of course, everyone likes to walk.”

  He smiled. “Quite right. May I have the pleasure of your company for the remainder of your stroll?” The question seemed directed at Jeanine, which struck her as rude, for he should have addressed Lady Guilford.

  “We will be returning home soon,” Lady Guilford said.

  “It would be a pleasure to accompany you however far you go,” he said, clearly oblivious to her reticence.

  To Jeanine’s surprise, he stepped to her right and winged an arm toward her. Jeanine looked at Lady Guilford for approval. She gave a curt nod and Jeanine wondered if she’d done something wrong, but slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

  “How is Lord Guilford, my lady?” he asked, and covered Jeanine’s hand with his as they started forward.

  “Quite well, thank you,” she said.

  Jeanine resisted the urge to pull her hand free of his as he prattled on about the weather, how lovely they both looked, and confirmed that they remained in good health.

  “You must be terribly busy with plans for the ball your cousin is hosting tonight, Lady Guilford.”

  She gave a careless laugh. “No more than usual.”

  “I do believe all of Edinburgh is talking about the party,” he said.

  “It will likely be the ball of the season,” she replied casually.

  “With you at the helm, success is assured,” he said. “Miss Matheson, you must be looking forward to this evening.”

  “Oh yes. I don’t think I have ever attended a ball quite so large. Grey says at least three hundred people should attend. I’m not sure his ballroom will hold that many.”

  Lady Guilford shot her a warning look, and said, “Of course, it will.”

  A carriage rattled past followed by two men on horseback.

  “It is certainly larger than any ball I have attended,” Lord Gordon said.

  “I cannot believe Gre—”

  Lady Guilford looked sharply at her.

  Jeanine realized her mistake, and amended, “—his lordship knows so many people.”

  “He is the Marquess of Northington and 6th Earl of Edmonds,” Lord Gordon said. “He knows everyone.”

  “He is an earl, as well as a marquess?” Jeanine laughed. “I didn’t know that.”

  They came to a Y in the path. Left, led to town. To the right, their carriage waited at the edge of the trees up ahead. They angled right. As they approached the carriage, the driver opened the door and stood aside.

  Lord Gordon helped Lady Guilford into the carriage, then Jeanine. He grasped the door, then hesitated and said, “Forgive me for being forward, Miss Matheson, but I hope that I might call on you sometime soon at Finley Hall.”

  Jeanine started.

  “You would have to speak with Valan about that,” Lady Guilford interjected. “The ball is tonight, so he is busy, of course, and I believe he has business through next week.”

  His face fell, and he said in such a forlorn voice, “Of course,” that Jeanine said, “We will see you at the ball?”

  Hope lit his expression, and she was relieved when he looked to Lady Guilford for confirmation.

  “Of course, you are coming,” she said, but her words lacked warmth.

  He beamed. “Most kind of you. I wouldn’t think of missing it. Until tonight.”

  He closed the door and Lady Guilford stared out the window as the carriage rolled past the trees. They reached the street and the silence closed in on Jeanine.

  “I have done something wrong, haven’t I?” she said.

  Lady Guilford looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I know that I forget to call Grey ‘his lordship’ when we are in public. He told me I must do so, but his name is out of my mouth before I realize it. I am sorry. I know it’s very improper.”

  “You must try to remember. Valan does not want any scandal associated with you.”

  “Why would there be scandal associated with me?”

  Lady Guilford hesitated. “There won’t be, so long as you conduct yourself appropriately.”

  Jeanine regarded her. “You don’t like Lord Gordon very much. I don’t think Grey likes him, either. I must admit, he can be annoying.”

  “He is much more than annoying,” Lady Guilford said under her breath.

  “Why do you think he asked to call on me?” Jeanine asked.

  Lady Guilford snorted. “Because he cannot countenance Valan having something he does not.”

  Jeanine frowned. “You mean me.”

  Startlement crossed Lady Guilford’s face. “Put my words out of your mind. I am talking out of place. Something Valan will not quickly forgive.”

  “I don’t have to tell him that you said that. Not that is matters,” Jeanine added. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Then there is no harm done,” she replied. “Let’s not mention it again.”

  “If you say so,” Jeanine said, but she couldn’t help thinking harm had been done.

  * * *

  Valan entered his house and paused in the foyer. The bustle of party preparations filtered throughout the mansion. The indistinct murmur of voices, the distant rattle of pots, quick footsteps. Clearly, the majority of the work had been done. Things were quiet compared to the tension and harried air that had permeated the house until yesterday.

  He strode down the hallway to his library and went inside, pulling the door closed behind him. The faint noise cut off, and quiet descended. He hadn’t been certain he would survive the preparations, but he had. He started for the sideboard located against the wall to the right of the hearth, then halted at sight of the game table sitting where his old game table had been.

  He didn’t remember buying a new table. Valan crossed to the table and stared at it. He traced a finger across the exquisite inlaid marble. The table might very well be finer than the one he had owned—even if it hadn’t been in his family for three generations.

  He slid open the drawer on the left-hand side and found inside the cards and game pieces that had filled the other table’s drawer. Baldwin must’ve taken the liberty of replacing the table, which surprised him. Baldwin knew Valan’s taste as well as he did himself, and the steward had not failed on this point, but Valan had never known him to take such initiative. Still, he couldn’t complain.

  A knock sounded on the door and Baldwin entered. “Forgive the interruption, sir, but you have a visitor. Baron Rosemund.”

  “Show him in,” Valan said. Baldwin started to turn, and Valan said, “Baldwin, I must thank you for the game table.”

  The steward shook his head. “I did not procure the table for you, sir. I believe that was Miss Matheson’s doing.”

  “Indeed?” Valan replied. “Wonders never cease.”

  Baldwin left, and a moment later reappeared with Brendan. Baldwin bowed and closed the door as he left.

  “I believe Baldwin grows more dour by the year,” the baron said. “How long have you employed him?”

  “Fifteen years,” Valan said.

  “Perhaps that explains his so
mber mood.”

  Valan gave him a dry look, then headed for the sideboard. “Have you come here simply to abuse me?”

  Brendan laughed. “Forgive me. But you must admit that I am right.”

  Valan poured two glasses of sherry. “I must admit nothing of the sort. The party is tonight, my dear. You’re very early and not dressed for the evening. Don’t tell me you’re here to say you cannot attend. I have plans for you tonight.”

  He crossed to his desk, handed Brendan one of the glasses, then motioned to the chairs that faced the low-burning fire in the hearth.

  “The knowledge you have plans for me is enough to have me come down with a fever and cry off,” the baron said as he settled into one of the chairs. “What are these plans?”

  “What would be the fun if I told you?” Valan replied.

  “None for you, I imagine. I’m here to ask if you heard that Latham left Edinburgh.”

  Valan sipped his sherry. “I believe I did hear that bit of gossip.”

  “I fear it is more than gossip, Valan. He is nowhere to be found.”

  “One need only know where to look,” Valan said.

  Brandan’s eyes narrowed. “You know where he is.”

  “I not only know where he is, I sent him there.”

  Brendan released a breath. “Then we need not worry on account of our investment.”

  “You need not,” Valan said. “Though Latham will no longer be handling our business.”

  “What? But you said— What have you done?” Brendan asked.

  “It is best you not ask,” Valan answered. “Just rest easy that our investments are now in the hands of someone who won’t try to steal them.”

  Shock registered on Brendan’s face. “Embezzlement?”

  “Attempted embezzlement,” Valan said.

  “Who’s in charge now?” the baron asked.

  Valan took another sip of sherry and smiled.

  “Never say you are handling the shipments?” Brendan said. “Good God.”

  “Should I take offense?” Valan asked.

  “What?” Brendan gave a distracted shake of his head. “Nae, it’s just a shock. Embezzlement, and you running the company.”

  “Just long enough for us to receive payment,” Valan said.

  “Everyone will be glad to hear you took charge and saved us.”