The Dreadful Debutante by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online

her, and then I can forget about her.”
     
    Lady Jansen, who had smiled indulgently throughout this account, thought busily behind the pleasant mask of her face. She had not expected competition. The marquess’s mother had assured her that her son was heart-free. She shrewdly thought the marquess was intrigued with this minx, and if something was not done to put an end to his interest in Mira Markham, she might have no hope of the prize.
     
    When she left she went to make calls and told the story of Mira’s acting as tiger, swearing each lady to silence as she did so. The gossip spread outward, ever outward, until it seemed as if a heavy cloud pregnant with gossip and about to burst hung over the head of the unsuspecting Mira.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Lord Charles and the Marquess of Grantley were briefly left alone together in the drawing room while Mrs. Markham went to see if her daughters were ready. Mr. Markham had gone out to his club.
     
    “I am glad of this opportunity to talk to you, Grantley,” began Lord Charles.
     
    The marquess raised his thin eyebrows but said nothing.
     
    “I am concerned for Mira.”
     
    “Are you about to ask me my intentions?” asked the marquess haughtily.
     
    “No!” Lord Charles looked horrified. “I would not dream of being so impertinent. Besides, the whole idea is ridiculous. I merely caution you that Mira is inclined to be a trifle wild in her ways.”
     
    “I have not noticed any wildness.” The marquess’s voice was as cold as ice. “If you have any complaint about Miss Mira, then I suggest you either tell her or tell her parents and refrain from criticizing a good friend of mine.”
     
    Lord Charles flushed and opened his mouth to deliver an angry retort, but at that moment Mira and her sister came into the room.
     
    Drusilla was calm and very beautiful in a carriage dress of blue velvet. Mira, in a carriage gown of gold velvet, was sparkling with excitement. The marquess stood up and bowed. “Let us go, Miss Mira. We are fortunate. The day is relatively fine. I have a new carriage for you to inspect.”
     
    They went outside, followed by Lord Charles and Drusilla. Outside stood the marquess’s latest purchase, a high-perch phaeton with two black horses in tandem in front.
     
    Holding the horses’ heads was a small tiger. “His name really is Jem,” said the marquess, and Mira giggled. Drusilla, listening to every word, wondered what was so funny about that.
     
    As Mira and the marquess drove off, the marquess said, “Are you looking forward to cutting a dash in the Park?”
     
    “In this carriage,” said Mira appreciatively, “one could cut a dash anywhere. What does one do in the Park?”
     
    “One shows off. One drives round and nods to the fashionables, and then one goes home.”
     
    “How dull.” Mira sighed. “I have never even seen the river. I could be living in a village called the West End of London. To go outside it seems to be considered a sin.”
     
    The sun was sparkling, and the air was warm. “Would you like to see something of the rest of London?” asked the marquess.
     
    “May I?”
     
    “Of course. I shall show you the river first.”
     
    Drusilla exclaimed to Lord Charles, “Where are they going? That is not the way to the Park.”
     
    “I do not care,” said Lord Charles, who was still smarting over the marquess’s put-down.
     
    Mira had temporarily forgotten about Lord Charles. She saw the River Thames from Westminster Bridge. She saw the Temple Bar, and then they bowled along Fleet Street and up Ludgate Hill past the mercers’ shops to St. Paul’s Cathedral. When the marquess reminded her that her drive in the Park would be expected to be over and that she should return, she heaved a sigh of disappointment.
     
    “So soon? Do you go to the opera tonight, my lord?”
     
    “Yes, my chuck. Catalini is singing. I hope you will be able to hear her above the chatter of society.”
     
    Mira glanced up at