A Wedding in Springtime by Amanda Forester

matchmaker, though she suspected there might be a strong dose of convenient thinking. Yet Pen did not doubt Lady Bremerton was desperate to have Genie wed and it might be diverting at least to try. What did she have to lose?
    “I suppose it could not hurt to try,” said Pen.
    “Good girl! Now, not a word to Lady Bremerton, mind you.”
    “Certainly not! And how did you suggest the fee be divided?”
    The dowager’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you thirty percent, but that is my final offer.”
    “As you wish.” Penelope lowered her eyes and clasped her hands neatly in her lap. It was important to know when to quit.
    “Now then.” The dowager cleared her throat, getting down to business. “You did say Miss Talbot told you Grant had arranged for her to be invited to the coming-out party for Miss Devine?”
    “Yes, that is correct.”
    “Then we have no time to lose. I shall talk to James about quashing the rumors circulating about her debut. And I must help Cora pick out an appropriate gown. She is addicted to fashion but has not the figure for it anymore I fear. What was that color she was wearing today?”
    “Persimmon, I believe.”
    “Ghastly,” declared the dowager. “She has not the coloring for it. Now go fetch Debrett’s . We must select a husband for our young Miss Talbot.”
    ***
    Lady and Lord Admiral Devine were the honored hosts of the coming-out ball for their niece, Miss Cassandra Devine. True to Grant’s word, an invitation was extended to Miss Talbot. Lady Devine was a kindhearted lady, generous to a fault, but her motives in inviting Genie were dominated more by the perverse humor of watching Grant dance with debutantes than an abundance of compassion. If nothing else, it guaranteed her ball would be remembered, and that was truly all a hostess could ask for.
    Grant noted the exact moment of Genie’s entry into the ballroom with a rush of pleasure. She wore a gown of ice blue with a gauzy overdress of silver. Her blond hair was sleeked back into a high bun with a diamond and sapphire tiara. Her deep blue eyes, pink lips, and flawless porcelain skin could leave no mistake that she was a strikingly beautiful girl.
    “There she is,” said the Comtesse de Marseille, who was dressed in a raiment of silk and lace fit to beggar a king. “I cannot believe she has the audacity to show her face in society.”
    “That is Lady Bremerton’s niece,” replied a man. “Pretty thing, quite pretty, too bad she has not the manners to match.”
    “Whatever do you mean?” asked Grant, joining the conversation.
    “Did you not hear the latest on-dits about Miss Talbot? Apparently, she made quite a spectacle of herself before the queen.”
    “Ah, you speak of the presentation,” said Grant. “I was there, you know.”
    “Do tell!” exclaimed the comtesse with a malicious glint to her eye.
    “My Lord Chamberlain made an utter fool of himself by making known the painful result of ill digestion. Truly, I worry for him. The queen was quite put out at his behavior, I must say.”
    The Comtesse de Marseille laughed without a trace of mirth. “I heard that young chit embarrassed herself by shrieking with laughter.”
    “I heard she fell to the floor with hysterics,” replied the man.
    “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s all a hum. Such a lovely girl, she shone in comparison to the other young ladies. Wonder who could benefit from spreading false rumors?” added Grant.
    “Jealous mamas, no doubt,” said the comtesse with authority. “They are a vicious breed.”
    “I heard it from a reliable source,” countered the man, not ready to give up his bit of gossip.
    “As did I,” agreed the comtesse. “The Talbot girl made a fool of herself.”
    “The Talbot girl,” said the Duke of Marchford, joining the conversation with stiff hauteur, “is the granddaughter of the Earl of Wainwright and the cousin of my betrothed.”
    The group turned to find the duke studying them with the disinterest of a