A Reformed Rake by Jeanne Savery

Author:Jeanne Savery [Savery, Jeanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Run along and enjoy yourselves.” Rings flashed on the gnarled fingers waved them on their way, and Harriet noted the book laid to one side. If Madame felt well enough to read to herself she was improving. Harriet moved gracefully to the bedside and leaned down to kiss the wrinkled cheek. Françoise did likewise and the girls, both wondering what their first evening at a London entertainment would bring them, wished Madame good night before going down to join their host and hostess.

Nine

Harriet curtsied deeply to His Grace, Pierce Reston, Duke of Stornway. He reached for her hand and raised her. Lifting her wrist with his own, he bent gracefully to kiss her hand. “Your Grace?” she asked with something between a social smile and a frown of concentration.

“Miss Cole?”

Harriet turned to Joanna who held her husband’s free arm. “I think I understand.”

“I knew you would.” There was a humor-touched aura of smugness about Joanna. “And you, My Lord Duke?”

“I have always believed you an excellent judge of character, Jo. Your Harriet is exactly as you said she’d be.”

“A diplomat as well as all else?” Harriet smiled.

The duke smiled. “All else?” he asked.

“Oh no. I will not add to your consequence. You need none of my compliments, Your Grace.”

“Diplomat,” he mused. “Why did she say I am a diplomat?”

Joanna’s eyes met Harriet’s and the two women chuckled. “You, my beloved, may puzzle that out for yourself,” said Joanna. “Go away now.”

He bowed and moved to join Robert near the fireplace. Others arrived, several of whom Harriet had not met.

Beginning to worry that she’d chosen wrongly when deciding to wear a new gown, Harriet asked, “I thought this a small dinner for close friends?”

“Elizabeth has already become something of a society hostess, much to everyone’s surprise,” Jo responded. “Tonight she has leavened friendship with a few oddities to amuse your Mademoiselle Françoise.” Joanna nodded toward the grey-haired woman, a shocking turban balanced on her head, sitting stiffly on a straight-backed chair where an equally grey-haired man spoke in eloquently flowing periods. “They are an odd couple indeed. They’ve been courting, you see, for longer than you and I have been alive!

“Then,” Joanna continued softly, “she added a very few who will be useful to our program for introducing Mademoiselle Françoise to the ton. Lady Mary is a bore, but her mother is one of the nicest women anywhere. And I hope Elizabeth reminded your charge that Lady Cowper,” Joanna discreetly pointed to where that best-loved of the Almacks’ patronesses talked to Lord Crawford, “must be pleased. Not,” added Joanna when Harriet frowned, “that that will be difficult. Lady Cowper remembers Françoise’s mother and will wish to do what she can for the girl.”

“How will she overcome the fact Françoise’s mother was believed to have died, drowned, I think, it was?”

“That is all arranged. Lord Crawford has just recently discovered,” said Joanna with just the proper degree of restrained drama, “that his daughter did not die. She did, however, lose her memory. So sad.

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