Page 53 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

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Minta came downstairsafter dressing in one of her favorite morning gowns, a pale yellow the color of soft sunshine. She entered the drawing room half an hour before the time suitors would come calling. The sight and scent of flowers overwhelmed her.

Aunt Phyllis smiled at her, waving her hand about. “Look at all the beautiful bouquets you have received today, my darling.”

Dumbfounded, Minta went to one and pulled the card from it. She recalled dancing a Scotch reel with the gentleman.

Looking about, she said, “How many arrangements have arrived?”

Her aunt grinned triumphantly. “Twenty-seven in all.”

“But I did not dance with twenty-seven gentlemen. Far from it, truth be told.”

“Whether you danced with them—or even met them—you made quite an impression on many eligible bachelors, just as I knew you would.”

She went from bouquet to bouquet, reading the attached cards. She smiled when she came to a rather large arrangement of lilacs, which Lord Boxling had sent.

When she came to the last floral arrangement and read the card, disappointment filled her.

Percy had not sent flowers to her.

She turned and Aunt Phyllis shook her head in disgust. “I know what you are looking for, Minta. The Marquess of Kingston did not send anything to you, despite having danced the waltz with you and supping with you.”

She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and said, “Perhaps Lord Kingston is not aware of the custom of sending flowers to a lady he is interested in. Remember, Aunt Phyllis, he is new to thetonand its ways.”

Her aunt shook her head. “No, I will not have you defending him. The Duchess of Camden has taken the marquess under her wing and she would have made him aware of what Polite Society expects. He did not send you a bouquet because he is not interested in you, Minta.”

She remembered the tender, sweet kiss he had bestowed last night. “No, Aunt, you are mistaken. I am certain it is merely an oversight. Perhaps the florist has yet to deliver all the arrangements about town. Besides, Lord Kingston told me he would be calling upon me this afternoon. He is not a man who would break his word to me. I know that.”

Aunt Phyllis glared in disapproval a Minta’s words. “Say what you want, Child, but I doubt he will show his face this afternoon.”

Minta returned to her bedchamber, where she knew she would not be disturbed. She sat and thumbed through the cards she had collected from each bouquet, thinking of each gentleman and trying to recall his face. Other than Lord Boxling, however, they all seemed to be a blur now.

The only face that mattered was Percy’s.

He would prove Aunt Phyllis wrong when he called today. She knew it. She believed it.

A knock sounded at her door and Bertha quickly entered. “You must come downstairs at once, Miss Nicholls. Your suitors are arriving.”

Minta stood, squaring her shoulders. Returning to the drawing room, she saw both Uncle West and Aunty Phyllis now in attendance, thinking it sweet they both wished to chaperone her on this first day of callers.

The butler entered and announced three names and the arrivals entered. Soon, the drawing room was full of gentlemen, each staying about a quarter-hour, which Louisa had told her was an acceptable amount of time for a visit. Every time the butler entered the room, Minta found her heart in her throat as she waited to hear Lord Kingston’s name announced.

Finally, she did hear it and turned to give her aunt a triumphant smile, only seeing disapproval on the older woman’s face.

As he entered, Minta immediately knew something was wrong with the marquess. She couldn’t put her finger on what it might be and then decided he must be uncomfortable with several suitors still present. He did not do well in large groups and most likely never would. It was all right. He had come and her heart sang as he moved toward her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Nicholls,” he said with no emotion, nodding his head.

It surprised her that he did not take her hand, much less kiss it, as every other bachelor who called this afternoon had done.

Swallowing her disappointment, she said, “Thank you for calling today, my lord.”

When he said nothing more, Lord Boxling began a new conversation, joined by two of his friends who had accompanied him. They spoke several minutes, with nary a word uttered by Lord Kingston.

Abruptly, he said, “I will take my leave. Would you care to walk me out, Miss Nicholls?”

His request was unusual but Minta knew he must have something he wished to say to her in private.

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