Drops of Gold(37)
“Then perhaps I could write the invitations, and Caroline could simply write her name on them. She is quite proficient at writing her own name, and it wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“I—”
“And I will dress her and fix her hair myself. There would be no bother for the servants. They certainly wouldn’t be overset at providing dinner for your family.”
“Certainly not.” He seemed to laugh.
At her? Nearly everyone she’d known would laugh to see her now, begging for a small favor, humbled at her inability to grant a small wish for a child. But she pushed forward.
“Please,” she asked one more time. “Do this for her. She has lost so much but asks for so little.”
She saw him stiffen but did not wish the words unsaid. Mr. Jonquil turned toward her and stepped to where she stood, his eyes softened somehow. A slight smile turned his lips when he spoke. “You seem to be under the impression that I disapprove of your suggestion.”
“Do you not?”
Mr. Jonquil shook his head and stepped closer yet. “There are times, my dear Miss Wood, when your thoughtfulness amazes me.”
She could do nothing but listen and watch him, fascinated by the look in his eyes but unable to interpret it.
“I think this dinner you propose is inspired.” Mr. Jonquil watched her, standing directly in front of her. “I happen to know that Philip, the earl, and Stanley—”
“The soldier.” Marion nodded, knowing precisely to which brother he referred.
“—and Mater are all at the Park. I can guarantee they wouldn’t miss a dinner here, especially one hosted by Caroline. They like her far better than they like me.” He smiled a little self-deprecatingly. Marion wondered if he believed the words despite his joking tone.
“May I write the invitations, then?” she asked.
“If I may add one more name to the list,” Mr. Jonquil said.
“Oh, sir, I feel the party really ought to be limited to people whom Caroline knows well and with whom she would be comfortable.”
“I assure you this last guest will not make Caroline the least bit uncomfortable.” Mr. Jonquil seemed to be hiding a smile. “She and Caroline are quite fond of each other, actually.”
She? Marion tried to swallow back a lump that suddenly formed in her throat. Who was this mysterious lady who held such a position of trust in Caroline’s life? Was Mr. Jonquil attached to her as well? But she had no right to even speculate on such things.
“Of course, Mr. Jonquil,” Marion forced herself to say. “I will invite anyone you see fit to include.”
Mr. Jonquil stepped a little closer and looked directly into her eyes. “Anyone?”
Marion nodded, her heart racing at his nearness.
“Do I have your word on that?”
“Yes, sir.” Marion fought the urge to reach out and touch him. Where had her recent wayward inclinations come from?
“Must you attach a ‘sir’ to every sentence you speak to me?” A hint of frustration touched the lightness of his tone.
“I figure ‘sir’ is better than ‘guv’nuh.’”
Mr. Jonquil chuckled. “Infinitely.”
“To whom shall I send the extra invitation, s—” She stopped just before adding her usual ending.
Mr. Jonquil seemed to notice. His smile broadened. He turned away, walking back toward his desk. As he sat, he said, “To Miss Mary Wood.”
A few noises came out of her mouth but nothing that constituted any actual words.
“You gave your word,” Mr. Jonquil reminded her, taking up his quill again. “I expect the invitation to be extended”—He looked up for the briefest of moments—“and accepted.”
“Yes, sir.” She added the last with emphasis. “And thank you so very much.”
He didn’t look up or respond, and Marion knew that was her cue to leave. She ran up the stairs, rushing past Maggie, straight into her room, where she closed the door hard before dancing in a victorious circle at the foot of her bed and then dropped onto it with an exclamation of sheer triumph.
* * *
The invitations were sent and universally accepted by that evening. Caroline was ecstatic. She spoke for a full ten minutes without pausing once. Marion listened in complete amazement, grateful beyond words to Mr. Jonquil for agreeing to what must have seemed at the time to be a mad scheme.
They spent the next morning and half the afternoon working out the details: choosing a gown for Caroline and a ribbon for her hair and deciding on a menu, which Marion relayed to Mr. Jonquil, for she had her suspicions that Mrs. Sanders would find the extra work a nuisance. Marion, on the other hand, loved seeing the glow in Caroline’s eyes as their plans came together.