Finished with the corset, Minnie opened a silk petticoat for her to step into, and then her gown.
“You told me you were havingbreakfast,” Mother corrected her. “You did not tell me you would promenade through Hyde Park without a chaperone. I had to find that out from Lady Penrose.”
“I had a chaperone. Cassandra is married.” Jasmine raised a brow. “And since when do I require a chaperone with the Coopers? They’re family.”
“They’re notbloodfamily. You are being reckless with your reputation. You must think about your future. This is your debut back into society.”
“Certainly feels like it,” Jasmine muttered under her breath. “¿Qué sigue? ¿Hacerle una reverencia a la reina?”
Eyes narrowed, Mother asked, “What was that?”
“Nothing.” Jasmine fixed her face into a smile and said sweetly, “Not to worry, Mother, I know what’s expected of me. Keep my mouth shut, sit still, and smile.”
I may as well start now.
Jasmine remained silent as Minnie painstakingly fastened every silk-covered button on the back of her gown. Once finished dressing her, Minnie applied a faint dusting of powder to Jasmine’s eyelids.
“Oh darling, you look beautiful,” Mother cooed. She smiled at the lady’s maid. “Minnie, you’ve outdone yourself again. That’ll be all,you may leave us.”
“Thank you my lady.” Minnie curtsied, and then left.
Once the door closed, Jasmine turned to her mother. Not wishing to waste any time, she put one hand on her hip and the other palm up in the space between them.
“Give me the list.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Mother walked to the tea table in the middle of the room, lifted a piece of paper from the center, and handed it to Jasmine.
Careful not to smudge the ink with her gloved fingertips, Jasmine read the list. She blanched at the first name.
“Duke Kendall?”
“It’s not common knowledge, but I hear he is looking for a wife.” Mother’s eyes lit up. “A duchess, Jasmine.”
If she had a quill, she would cross his name out. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something wrong about the Duke. Whenever he was around, it felt like being trapped in a room with a python.
She returned her attention to the list. The next two names were ones she expected, but… “Why do Conde Lorenzo de Morales and Viscount Rothwell have a star next to their names?”
Mother said slowly, “Both have directly expressed an interest in marriage. I’ve seated them next to you at dinner—”
“Mother!”
“I’ve spoken to them both, and I believe you should give one of them a chance. Lord Rothwell is to be an Earl one day, and he’s well-mannered. Don Lorenzo can trace his bloodline hundreds of years—and has two hundred acres of vineyards. He also has a massive estate in Zamora.”
“His sense of self-worth is massive.” Jasmine huffed.
She clenched her jaw and returned to the list.Marqués de San Miro.Lord Jarrow. Vizconde de Fermosillo. Lord Chislehurst—he was fifty! Sometimes she thought her mother threw in horrid names to make the others look better. Then she read the last name, and her stomach lurched.Lord Hartfield.
That can’t be right.
She skimmed the page once more, because surely she had misread. Eight names were on the list.
But not Matthew’s.
And why not? His name had been on her mother’s list since her debut eight years ago. He was the first gentleman she danced with, arranged beforehand. Year after year, Mother made Jasmine keep a slot open for Matthew on her dance card, but he never asked. Until one night he did. They waltzed, and they laughed,and he promised he would call upon her the next day with flowers.
Then their lives fell to pieces.
His name should be there.