Regency Wagers by Diane Gaston Page A

We do worry when you do not call.’
    ‘I have been shockingly remiss, but I’m fit, I assure you.’
    His sister-in-law gazed curiously at Madeleine. It had never entered his mind that he’d be required to introduce Madeleine to anyone, least of all his sister-in-law, the Marchioness.
    He pulled Madeleine forward, needing to exert a little physical effort to do so. ‘Serena, may I present Miss England. Miss England, the Marchioness of Heronvale, my sister-in-law.’
    Madeleine executed a very correct curtsy.
    ‘Have we met before, Miss England? I do not recall.’
    Madeleine, with her eyes downcast replied, ‘No, madam.’
    ‘Well, perhaps I may convey you both to your destination? I would be pleased to do so.’
    Devlin suspected Serena would be very pleased for an opportunity to find out who her brother-in-law escorted unchaperoned through this shopping district. He felt Madeleine painfully squeeze his arm.
    ‘I believe Miss England has one or two more shops to visit, but that was kind of you, Serena.’
    ‘Are the shops worthwhile, Miss England? I confess I have never visited the ones on this street.’
    ‘They suit me very well, madam,’ responded Madeleine in a quiet voice.
    ‘Perhaps you could recommend one to me,’ the Marchioness persisted. Devlin knew her inquiry to be meant in a friendly way, but he also knew his brother’s wife was nearly as fixed on him securing his future as was his brother. She wanted nothing more than to see him happily married; the Marquess wanted merely to keep his brother’s fortune secure.
    ‘I would not presume to.’ Madeleine looked miserable. Only his firm hold on her arm kept her from bolting, he suspected.
    A hackney coach came from behind, its driver shouting for the carriage to move on.
    ‘Oh, dear,’ said Serena. ‘We had better go.’
    ‘Indeed,’ replied Devlin.
    ‘Please call soon, Devlin. My pleasure, Miss England.’ The carriage moved forward and these last words faded with distance.
    ‘Devlin, may we please go home now?’ Madeleine raised a shaking hand to her bonnet.
    ‘No,’ he said mildly, determined for her not to be made uncomfortable by her encounter with Serena. ‘We need to have you measured for shoes and I must not return without cloth for Sophie.’
    ‘Oh, yes, I quite forgot Sophie’s cloth,’ she murmured. A racing phaeton whizzed by. She did not even notice.
    ‘Maddy, were you made uncomfortable by my sister-in-law?’
    They walked a few steps before she answered. ‘It was very improper to introduce me to her.’
    ‘I disagree. It would have been ill-mannered not to introduce you. An insult to you.’
    He glanced at her, seeing her brows knitted together and her bottom lip trembling slightly. ‘A fine lady like the Marchioness should not be made to converse with one such as me.’
    ‘Maddy, I refuse to allow you to speak so. You have studied your appearance. You could not be more presentable.’ He did not yet know the story, but he would wager she’d not chosen her life with Farley. But who would choose such a life? Only a woman with no other choice.
    ‘My appearance does not alter the fact that you should not have introduced a marchioness to…to Haymarket-ware.’
    ‘I refuse for you to speak so,’ he said.
    She did not look at him. ‘I will endeavour to obey you, my lord.’
    He yanked open the door to the shoemaker.
    After he’d ordered various pairs of shoes for her, he seemed relaxed again. By the time they’d selected several pieces of material at the cloth merchant’s shop, they were back in temper with each other.
    Devlin hailed a hack. As he negotiated with the driver, Madeleine noticed a gentleman across the street looking at her.
    Farley.
    He saw her look in his direction and tipped his hat to her. Her heart pounded wildly, and she feared she might vomit. She felt Farley’s eyes on her the entire time it took for Devlin to lift her into the hack.
    As they pulled away, he saluted her once more.
     
    Lord