Read Online M Is for Marquess by Grace Callaway - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Callaway
Ads: Link
ahead.
The grim conclusion stared Gabriel in the face.
Not only did the Spectre live, he—or she—was a double agent.
One of the Quorum.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Thea and her sisters arrived for an appointment with Madame Rousseau, a fashionable modiste. The shop on Bond Street had recently expanded its premises in order to accommodate its ever-growing legion of devotees. The spacious atelier, done up in fresh shades of spring green and pale bronze, was brimming with patrons rhapsodizing over Madame’s exquisite creations. An assistant dressed in black led Thea and her sisters back into a large private dressing room.
Thea and Polly shared the cozy loveseat while Em occupied the cream velvet chaise longue. Not one for sitting still, Violet wandered around the room, inspecting things.
“ Madame will be in shortly,” the assistant said. “May I bring some tea while you wait?”
They all declined, except for Violet, who asked if a biscuit could be had as well.
“Didn’t you have breakfast this morning?” Thea said after the assistant left to fetch the refreshments.
“That was ages ago.” Violet sifted through bolts of fabric on the worktable. “I get hungry.”
“I wonder why,” Emma said in dry tones. Their middle sister had moved on, investigating a grid of colorful bobbins that hung on the wall. “Sitting still isn’t a crime, you know.”
Vi spun a spool on its hook. “But it feels like punishment. It’s so boring.”
If there was anything Violet couldn’t abide, it was boredom.
“You’re about to have your final fitting for a masquerade,” Em said in exasperation. “That should be exciting enough, even for you.”
This Friday night, Emma, Thea, and Violet were to attend a costume party given by the Marquess and Marchioness of Blackwood. The annual event coincided with the winding down of the Season, and, with unattached ladies and gentlemen still searching for mates, it was guaranteed to be a crush.
For once, Thea was looking forward to a social event. She was determined to get her mind off Tremont and start afresh. Mama had always said that the important things in life were worth working for. If Thea wanted love and marriage, she couldn’t let one disappointment stop her from pursuing her goal. She refused to rot away like forgotten fruit. No, she would dedicate herself to meeting possible candidates and, if necessary, learn to play the marriage mart game.
But why did the notion make her heart feel as heavy as lead? Tremont, for his part, seemed unaffected by what had passed between them. Actually, he’d been avoiding her; she hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning in Freddy’s room.
“I wish I could go.” Polly’s aquamarine eyes were wistful. “The costumes will be so beautiful.”
“You’ll get to go next year, dear. After you’ve had your come out,” Emma said.
Now that their sister was a duchess, the Kent girls were being introduced at Court. It was a far cry from their previous lives, where the most esteemed personage they’d met had been the local mayor. Polly bit her lip, her gaze lowering to her hands. Guessing her youngest sister’s fears, Thea set aside her own turmoil and gave the other’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
“It wasn’t all that bad, Polly,” she said. “It’s mostly standing around waiting. The actual presentation itself only takes a minute. And since Rosie will be making her curtsy too, you’ll have her by your side.”
“Rosie’s not afraid of anything,” Polly said with a relieved nod.
“Exactly. Between her exuberance and your gentle charm, the two of you will take Court by storm,” Thea said.
Polly’s slow smile transformed her little face into a thing of beauty.
The door opened, and the modiste entered. A slight French woman with dark coloring and pale skin, Madame Rousseau managed to look utterly chic in severe black. The pair of assistants behind her scurried over to the dressing screens and carefully hung up
The grim conclusion stared Gabriel in the face.
Not only did the Spectre live, he—or she—was a double agent.
One of the Quorum.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Thea and her sisters arrived for an appointment with Madame Rousseau, a fashionable modiste. The shop on Bond Street had recently expanded its premises in order to accommodate its ever-growing legion of devotees. The spacious atelier, done up in fresh shades of spring green and pale bronze, was brimming with patrons rhapsodizing over Madame’s exquisite creations. An assistant dressed in black led Thea and her sisters back into a large private dressing room.
Thea and Polly shared the cozy loveseat while Em occupied the cream velvet chaise longue. Not one for sitting still, Violet wandered around the room, inspecting things.
“ Madame will be in shortly,” the assistant said. “May I bring some tea while you wait?”
They all declined, except for Violet, who asked if a biscuit could be had as well.
“Didn’t you have breakfast this morning?” Thea said after the assistant left to fetch the refreshments.
“That was ages ago.” Violet sifted through bolts of fabric on the worktable. “I get hungry.”
“I wonder why,” Emma said in dry tones. Their middle sister had moved on, investigating a grid of colorful bobbins that hung on the wall. “Sitting still isn’t a crime, you know.”
Vi spun a spool on its hook. “But it feels like punishment. It’s so boring.”
If there was anything Violet couldn’t abide, it was boredom.
“You’re about to have your final fitting for a masquerade,” Em said in exasperation. “That should be exciting enough, even for you.”
This Friday night, Emma, Thea, and Violet were to attend a costume party given by the Marquess and Marchioness of Blackwood. The annual event coincided with the winding down of the Season, and, with unattached ladies and gentlemen still searching for mates, it was guaranteed to be a crush.
For once, Thea was looking forward to a social event. She was determined to get her mind off Tremont and start afresh. Mama had always said that the important things in life were worth working for. If Thea wanted love and marriage, she couldn’t let one disappointment stop her from pursuing her goal. She refused to rot away like forgotten fruit. No, she would dedicate herself to meeting possible candidates and, if necessary, learn to play the marriage mart game.
But why did the notion make her heart feel as heavy as lead? Tremont, for his part, seemed unaffected by what had passed between them. Actually, he’d been avoiding her; she hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning in Freddy’s room.
“I wish I could go.” Polly’s aquamarine eyes were wistful. “The costumes will be so beautiful.”
“You’ll get to go next year, dear. After you’ve had your come out,” Emma said.
Now that their sister was a duchess, the Kent girls were being introduced at Court. It was a far cry from their previous lives, where the most esteemed personage they’d met had been the local mayor. Polly bit her lip, her gaze lowering to her hands. Guessing her youngest sister’s fears, Thea set aside her own turmoil and gave the other’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
“It wasn’t all that bad, Polly,” she said. “It’s mostly standing around waiting. The actual presentation itself only takes a minute. And since Rosie will be making her curtsy too, you’ll have her by your side.”
“Rosie’s not afraid of anything,” Polly said with a relieved nod.
“Exactly. Between her exuberance and your gentle charm, the two of you will take Court by storm,” Thea said.
Polly’s slow smile transformed her little face into a thing of beauty.
The door opened, and the modiste entered. A slight French woman with dark coloring and pale skin, Madame Rousseau managed to look utterly chic in severe black. The pair of assistants behind her scurried over to the dressing screens and carefully hung up
Similar Books
