Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,62

for herself would require one more fitting.

Marissa looked to where Jordana stood clenching her fists, waiting impatiently for her gown to be buttoned up, eager to be gone from the dressmaker’s and off to Mr. Coventry’s. “I think I’ll return later this week.” She smiled. “Miss Ives grows ever impatient.”

“I concur,” Madame Fontaine agreed. She bowed politely to Marissa and went to greet Lady Barton and her three daughters. “I bid you good day, Lady Cupps-Foster.”

Jordana hopped off the podium, ignoring the outstretched hand of one of the girls sent to help her. Her skirts lifted, showing a great deal of ankle. “May we go to Mr. Coventry’s now?”

“Dear, must you leap and jump at every turn? A lady waits for assistance. And yes, I did promise you a trip to Mr. Coventry’s. Thank you for not biting off anyone’s fingers.”

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

“I think perhaps you should call me Marissa after all of our adventures.” Regardless of her initial reluctance in taking on Jordana and the girl’s difficult manner, she was enjoying herself immensely. She hadn’t realized how much she missed mothering another ‘duckling’.

I will miss Jordana dreadfully when Haddon’s sister arrives to take charge.

“Marissa.” Jordana tested the name on her tongue while taking Marissa’s arm. “Thank you, Marissa.” Her silver eyes, so like Haddon’s, gleamed with real affection.

Marissa blinked and turned away, ashamed to find her eyes filling with tears over the prospect of losing Jordana.

“Oh, Mama.” A familiar shrill voice cut the air. “I simply must have the dress of peacock blue to wear to Lady Ralston’s ball. Madame’s assistant assures me no one else has taken the silk. I shall stand out in the crowd.”

Lady Christina Sykes, stunning in a confection of peach satin and lace, came around a table on which several bolts of fabric were stacked, trailed by her mother, Lady Stanton.

“The color is a bit mature for a girl your age,” Lady Stanton cautioned. “Though I agree, you would look lovely in it.”

Jordana quickened her pace, towing Marissa along in a most unladylike fashion. “Please hurry, my—Marissa.”

“Are you avoiding someone?” She cast a glance at Lady Stanton who was smiling at her daughter. “If you are, it is a foolish task. Better to confront obstacles head-on.”

“I don’t wish to speak to Lady Christina or Lady Stanton. I’ve had my fill of them both. They’re always inviting me to tea or to go shopping. I don’t care to renew our acquaintance.”

“It is very kind of them to wish to bring you into their circle.” Marissa’s heart had started a slow pounding at the sight of Lady Stanton and her daughter. Knowing the pair were making efforts to ingratiate themselves with Jordana told Marissa how far things had progressed with Haddon.

“She wants to marry my father.”

Marissa had an inclination to punch Lady Christina right on her perfect nose. Wouldn’t that cause a scene? A longing for Haddon filled her, one she could not easily push away. “I’m sure your father has his reasons for considering her. Come. Our backs are to them. They won’t notice us.”

“You know the reason my father tolerates her,” Jordana said, her voice soft as they exited Madame Fontaine’s shop. “I know that you do.”

Marissa’s lips tightened as she shot a look of annoyance at her charge. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of, Jordana.”

“You shouldn’t frown,” Jordana said in an airy tone. “Wrinkles.”

“Jordana.” Marissa admonished. “I am not frowning. I am deep in thought, considering the best way to get to Mr. Coventry’s.” She nodded to the footman who had been patiently standing outside.

“Don’t you dare leave me with Christina as a stepmother. I shall never forgive you.”

The words were so quiet, Marissa wasn’t certain she’d heard Jordana correctly. “What, dear?”

“I said don’t you dare leave Mr. Coventry’s without your special order.” Jordana looked straight ahead, stomping in the direction of the apothecary. “The one for—” She tipped her chin to Marissa’s hair.

“I shan’t. Nor do I need you to remind me.” Seeing Lady Christina had rattled her, which was ridiculous since the girl was an overindulged twit. Would Haddon really marry her? Jordana seemed to think so. The very thought caused an unpleasant roll of her stomach.

I just need some tea. Perhaps a biscuit.

The night before, she’d wept as she hadn’t since Reggie’s death—painful sobs which had torn at her and threatened to break her heart. Over Haddon. The man she’d driven away.

I never thought you a coward, Marissa.

Marissa stiffened her shoulders and strode in the direction of