A Gentleman's Vow (Saints and Sinners 2)

Jessica shook her head again, dismissing the gossip as idle speculation. “Mr. Whitfield is very tolerant of children.”

“He has dined with Mrs. Beck.”

Jessica stilled. “He hosted a dinner at Quigley Hill?”

“No, nothing so obvious as that.” Natalia peered at her. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Good. The last time Mr. Whitfield tried to host a dinner, Mr. Lewis lit too many candles in the dining room. That carelessness spoiled a beautiful table cloth and could have burned down the house.” Jessica jumped to her feet and rooted around in her small trunk until she found the present she’d purchased for Natalia. She turned, smiling, and held out the package. “Now before I forget again, Happy Birthday, for last month.”

Natalia shrieked. “You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered.” Jessica hugged Natalia quickly. “You’re one of my best friends.”

“My turn.” Natalia lifted her shawl from the settee, revealing a small parcel lying beneath. “Happy Birthday for this month.”

Jessica laughed and untied her present in a rush. Natalia had gifted her a piece of embroidery. Her needlework was as always very fine, much better than Jessica’s varied attempts. “This is perfect.”

Natalia rushed to untie her package then. Inside, she would discover a pair of elegant evening gloves and a matching silk shawl. Each item was purchased, but Jessica hoped she would love them just the same.

Natalia held each up to the light from the window to view them better. “Oh, my!”

“Do you like them? I know they’re a little plain, but I’m sure you can embroider something on each if you like.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about them.” Natalia wiped at her eyes quickly. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense.” But Jessica’s eyes misted with tears, too. “Every lady should have a perfect pair of evening gloves and a pretty shawl to wrap around her shoulders. Especially one trying to attract a husband.”

Natalia laughed dismissively. “My prospects are still quite slim, but I’m sure the addition of these gloves and a silk shawl will increase my appeal tremendously. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” They hugged again, and everything was almost right with Jessica’s world. She was home but she had one more birthday gift to deliver—to Mr. Whitfield—before the end of the day.

Unfortunately, Giddy simply hated anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. He tended to become embarrassed when the subject of his growing older was mentioned, too. More so if an event was made of his birthday with any sort of celebration.

Mr. Whitfield had arrived in the world on the twenty-ninth day of February, a date that occurred once every four years. He was only seven years old, if one only counted those occasions. Once he’d said he’d gone eight whole years between birthday celebrations. That sounded ghastly to Jessica, who found any excuse to celebrate important events.

Regardless of the lack of February twenty-nine this year, Jessica felt the month of his birth should be marked with a present, now that she was old enough to have pin money of her own to spend.

Natalia tugged on her gown to reclaim her attention. “You seem no different after your season. I thought you might have changed.”

“I may have traveled, but I am still the same woman I was before,” Jessica promised. But she was a young woman armed with a great deal more knowledge of men than when she’d left her home. The few days she’d spent with her older sister Fanny while Mother and Father celebrated their marriage alone had opened her eyes to another world of secrets and seductions. Fanny, an independent widow, and her friends had talked openly about gentlemen they liked, spoke of making love in a way that suggested all of them enjoyed their lovers immensely. Fanny, too, enjoyed a more liberal existence than Jessica had ever known was possible for a woman.

“Good. I had hoped we’d still be as close as we were becoming at Christmas. It’s been so dull around here without you.” Natalia leaned forward. “Now, I have been waiting with great patience, but please, tell me everything about London. What was it like?”

“Dirty and noisy,” she answered without hesitation.

“I meant the gentlemen vying for your hand, silly,” Natalia chided.

Jessica wrinkled her nose. “I knew what you meant, and my answer is still the same.”

Natalia chortled with laughter. “So the gentlemen in London are no different to their country cousins.”

Jessica winced. “There was very little difference and few who deserve the term gentle

man.”

Natalia arched her brow. “Was there no one like Mr. Whitfield to charm you with talk of fungus at dinner?”

Gideon Whitfield it seemed was unique among men. Clever. Witty. Dependable. “None at all. Many titled lords speak only of horses, wagers and politics. They smother themselves in perfumes and reek of cigar by night’s end.”