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Then Grenwood came over to ask Diana in an undertone, “What about jewelry?”

Surprised he was speaking to her after three weeks of silence, she said, “We are making do on that score. I assume you did not inherit any of the Brookhouse jewels because neither your mother nor your sister could find any in the house. And you weren’t around to enlighten us on the subject. So we have some pretty bead necklaces for her to wear. And my sisters and I intend to loan—”

“Will emeralds do?” he asked, taking Diana completely off guard.

“Why? Do you have some in your pocket?” When he smiled at her joke, though not at her, she added, “Yes, emeralds would be perfect with that gown for dinner. But they’re rather costly, you know. And to be quite frank, I’m more concerned about the diamonds and pearls women are expected to wear at the Queen’s Drawing Room.”

“Is that where the presentation takes place?”

“No. Well, yes, it takes place there, but the occasion at St. James’s Palace involving the queen giving young ladies her blessing—or newly minted dukes like you—is also called the Queen’s Drawing Room.”

“That makes no sense,” he said, his eyes still riveted to his sister. Apparently, he’d do anything to avoid looking at Diana.

“What makes no sense is the all-white gown Rosy will have to wear for it—it looks like a gigantic dollop of whipped cream with a fashionable bodice stuck on top like an afterthought. Add a train and several tall feathers in one’s tiara and the ostentatious picture is complete.”

“I see,” he said, making it clear he did not see at all.

“Oh, I almost forgot what we were discussing in the first place. The jewelry. The young ladies being presented are expected to put as many diamonds and pearls as possible on their persons. Full diamond parures are preferable, of course—”

“Of course,” he said sarcastically.

“We have no full parures of anything, but I loaned Rosy the diamond tiara from my own presentation,” she said, “complete with feathery excess rising out of it—though we had to replace some of the ostrich feathers because they were too worn and droopy after seven years and three women’s débuts. They were handed down from Eliza to me to Verity.” Stop babbling, Diana!

She drew in a deep breath. “We’ve gathered an assortment of our own diamond and pearl earrings, but we don’t have much in the way of necklaces and brooches, so we’ll make do with paste . . . anything that glitters, really, because I believe that’s the point. Oh, and Eliza intends to loan Rosy some of the jewels her late husband gave her.”

“Good God, you should have mentioned this to me sooner.”

“You haven’t been around, remember?” she said in an icy tone. “And your mother and sister were reluctant to bother you concerning jewelry because you weren’t even sure Rosy should have new gowns when you spoke to me three weeks ago.”

His face flushed. “You have a point. And I probably should have said something before, but when the will was read some months ago, the attorney I inherited from the previous duke showed me the Brookhouse jewels he’d been keeping in a safe. I’ve been meaning to bring them here anyway, so when I’m at the solicitor’s office signing papers this morning I’ll fetch back the casket of jewels. I know for certain it has a parure of emeralds Rosy can wear for the dinner, and I suspect it has some other things you can use.”

“That would be wonderful,” Diana said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He smiled faintly, and this time his gaze met hers. “You’ll have to choose the proper ones for the various gowns.”

“What a trial,” she said dryly. “I’ll be forced to play dress-up with what are probably spectacular jewels.” She pretended to be having the vapors, complete with pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “But I shall persevere.”

He laughed. “I’m glad I can amuse you.” He nodded to Rosy. “And I’m very glad you’re taking care of her attire. She told me she has to wear a hoop skirt, of all things. I haven’t seen a woman in one of those since I was a lad, and I’d definitely have no idea where to purchase one.”

“The hoop skirts are why the gowns look like dollops of whipped cream.”

“I like whipped cream,” he said lightly, though his gaze on her had turned rather intense.

“Ah, but you can’t eat these gowns.”

“That’s a pity.” He fixed on her mouth. “I’ve had no breakfast, and I’m feeling rather . . . peckish.”

How was it he managed to make his every remark feel like a caress? And why was he flirting with her again as if nothing between them had changed?

Just as she thought that, he seemed to catch himself, for he returned his gaze to his sister, who was now talking to Verity. “You’ve transformed her, you know. I daresay once her hair is up, I won’t even recognize her.”

“You’d better. You’re accompanying her today. Not to mention, you’re having your own presentation. Or have you forgotten?”

“I remember.”

“The clothing for men is very specific.”

“I’m well aware. Rosy has reminded me of it repeatedly. White bag wig. Breeches. Old-fashioned coat. Buckled shoes.”


Tags: Sabrina Jeffries Historical