A Matchmaking Miss

by Joan Overfield

  Chapter Six

  Joss stared at Miss Stone as if he hadn't heard right. "I beg your pardon?"

  "I must admit, I was concerned about the bride's dowry," Matty continued, too happy to note the stunned look on the marquess's face. "But now that I know you are wealthy we needn't bother with such details. You may marry whomever you like."

  "So long as I do it by the harvest," Joss said, struggling to comprehend what was happening.

  "That would be ideal, certainly." Matty sat down at her desk and began rifling through the papers. "Although I suppose we could wait until the holidays if you prefer. Christmas weddings are delightful, even if one must fret over the weather. Now, where did I put that . . . ah, here it is." She extracted a piece of paper from beneath the pile on her desk and handed it to him.

  He accepted it, too bemused to do otherwise. "What is it?"

  "A list of your prospective brides," she said, leaning forward to indicate the first name. "As you can see, I have ranked them by title and possible dowry, as well as by their suitability. Unfortunately I've never met any of these ladies, so I can not vouch for their appearance, but I — "

  "My God, you're serious!" Joss raised his eyes to study her face. "You really do mean to choose my bride for me!"

  Matty's happy smile slowly faded. "Perhaps 'choose' is the wrong word," she replied carefully, realizing for the first time that he was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of marriage. "Naturally the final choice must be yours. But — "

  "Well, thank heaven for that!" he exclaimed, glowering at her. "From the way you were talking I was beginning to wonder if you meant to sell me off to the highest bidder!"

  "But I have helped simplify things by presenting the most likely candidates for your consideration," she concluded, ignoring his outburst with studied patience. "You have been out of the country for several years, and will have few friends in the marriage mart. I was but attempting to help, my lord."

  "Help?" Joss gave a strangled laugh, still too amazed to be angry. "Is that the word for it? You drug me, kidnap me, presume to lecture me on my responsibilities, and now you are set on deciding not only whom I shall marry, but when. And you have the audacity to claim you only want to help?" He shook his head. "I will say one thing for you, Miss Stone: you certainly don't lack for nerve."

  Matty's cheeks flamed at the censure in his voice. It was obvious she'd handled the situation entirely wrong — a realization that added to her annoyance. She was accustomed to doing things just so, and she didn't like knowing that she'd bungled so badly. Drawing her shoulders back, she decided there was nothing left for her to do but brazen out the situation.

  "Thank you," she said, inclining her head in mock respect. "I am pleased you approve."

  Joss glared at her, his eyes frosting with displeasure. "You have a very erroneous opinion of my character, madam, if you think I will allow myself to be led where I would not go. When I marry . . . if I marry, it will be to a bride of my own choosing. Do you understand me?"

  His cold, cutting tones made Matty long to box his ears. "Yes, your lordship," she said stiffly, hating him for his arrogance. "I do."

  "Do you believe me?"

  She grew even redder. "Yes."

  "Then we don't have a problem, do we?" He gave her a silky smile that made her grit her teeth.

  "No, my lord," she said, her voice tight with resentment. "We do not."

  "Good." He allowed himself a satisfied nod as he tossed the list back on her desk. "I'll arrange for funds to be paid into the household accounts so that you can pay the servants. See that you begin with yourself." And with that last bit of imperiousness, he turned and left the room.

  Louisa glanced surreptitiously first over one shoulder and then over the other before slipping into the library. She'd done it, she thought, her shoulders slumping with relief as she pressed her back against the closed door. She'd managed to sneak away from the study before either Stone or Joss discovered her listening at the keyhole like some silly parlor maid. Not that she'd been eavesdropping, mind, she assured herself, walking away from the library door. She'd been walking down the hall when the sound of raised voices had caught her attention, and naturally she had paused to investigate. But she was not eavesdropping.

  How could Stone have been so foolish as to confess all to Joss? she wondered, her golden brows meeting in a frown as she began to pace the room. Of course he would object to having a bride procured for him — what man would not? Now it would be left to her to salvage the situation, although how she was to accomplish this task she was sure she did not know. She'd have to be cautious, of course, and extremely discreet. Perhaps she could . . . her thoughts skittered to a halt as a dark shape detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of her.

  "Oh!"

  "My apologies, Lady Kirkswood," Raj said quietly, his blue eyes guarded as he bowed to the marchioness. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

  A relieved smile settled on Louisa's lips as her heart slowed to its usual rhythm. "You didn't frighten me, Mr. Fitzsimmons," she assured him gently, "although I do own you startled me. I didn't see you standing there when I first came in."

  "I was sitting over there." Raj nodded at the huge red leather chair before the fireplace. "Joss suggested I make use of his library while I was here, and I was renewing my acquaintance with Milton. I hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all." Louisa hid her surprise that such a handsome, vital young man should enjoy reading anything so dusty and dull as Milton. "In fact, I hope you feel free to borrow what you please while you are our guest."

  "That is most gracious of you, my lady, considering I foisted myself upon you without invitation," Raj said, referring for the first time to the unconventional series of events that had brought him to Kirkswood.

  But if he meant to discomfit her, he was soon disappointed, for she gave a musical laugh. "That is so, sir, but under the circumstances I am prepared to overlook your behavior," she said, her blue eyes sparkling. "And might I say how I admire your daring in riding to my brother-in-law's rescue? It was most brave of you, considering you had no idea who had taken him."

  "Actually, by the third or fourth stop I had a fair notion as to who might be holding him," Raj confessed, surprised to find he was enjoying himself. Until now he'd regarded his hostess as he might a beautiful but fragile doll, and he found this unexpected side of her intriguing.

  "Really? And how did you accomplish that?" Louisa was genuinely curious. "Stone was sure she'd covered her tracks."

  "And so she did. But it is amazing what information a man will provide when a loaded pistol is pressed against his head."

  The offhanded words made Louisa's smile fade. "You — you held a pistol on a man?" she asked, her hands fluttering to her throat.

  "My friend had been kidnapped," Raj said, a hint of the dark anger that had consumed him upon learning Joss had been taken stealing into his deep voice. "I was prepared to do whatever was necessary to get him safely back."

  Louisa considered that for a long moment. "You must be very good friends," she said at last.

  "We are."

  "Good." She gave him a thoughtful smile. "He seems so . . . so solitary at times, so alone. I am glad he has someone like you."

  Raj gave her a long look. "You don't mind that I am not white?" he asked bluntly.

  "My heavens, no!" Louisa exclaimed indignantly. "How can you ask such a thing?"

  Raj's shrug bespoke a lifetime of slights and snubs. "Most people would find it more than passing strange that an English lord would choose to associate with a half-breed."

  "To quote Stone, most people are dim-witted fools!" Louisa snapped, her lovely mouth firming with displeasure. "I assure you, Mr. Fitzsimmons, that neither my companion nor I give a feather for such considerations. It is obvious you are Joss's good and true friend, and that is all that matters."

  "You sound as if you really mean that." Raj was both surprised and pleased by her vehemence.

  "I
do," Louisa said, scowling up into his saturnine features. "You will always be welcome in my house."

  Raj tried to remember the last time he'd heard such a sentiment expressed, and realized he never had. Always, he had been the outsider, tolerated rather than welcomed, his mixed blood putting a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. Except with Joss, he amended — and now, it would seem, with Joss's family. He gave her a low bow, hiding his emotions behind a polished smile.

  "Your ladyship is far too kind," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers, "and I thank you for your generosity. I shall do my best not to abuse your hospitality."

  Louisa studied him closely, sensing the pain behind his dazzling smile. He reminded her very much of her difficult brother-in-law, she decided, thinking of the anger and hurt she'd seen in Joss's sage-colored eyes. Perhaps, like Joss, all that Mr. Fitzsimmons required was knowing someone cared. And she did care, she realized with something akin to surprise. She found she cared very much.

  Matty spent the rest of the afternoon brooding over her confrontation with the marquess. Looking at it rationally, she supposed she could understand his objections to her scheme, although she still felt he was being unforgivably stubborn. Any fool could see he needed a bride, and she thought it most unfair that the estate should suffer because of his arrogant pride. There had to be some way she could force him to see reason, she thought, drumming her fingers on her desk. But how?

  She was still stewing over the possibilities when Lady Louisa came into her study, dressed in a simple gown of gray crepe trimmed with black ribbons. "Good afternoon, Stone," she said, bestowing a sweet smile on Matty. "I thought I would find you here. Still hard at work, I see."

  Matty, who hadn't accomplished even half the tasks she'd set for herself, blushed guiltily. "I am almost finished, my lady," she said, not quite able to meet her employer's eye. "Was there something you wished?"

  "Only to see how your search for the bride is progressing," she replied, settling her skirts about her as she took her seat. "Have you narrowed the prospects to a manageable number, or shall we be inviting half the ton to call upon us?"

  Matty's flush deepened. "Actually, I am afraid there is a slight problem," she said, feeling like the worst traitor alive.

  "A problem?" The marchioness's brows gathered in a delicate frown.

  "Yes," Matty admitted, fighting the urge to crawl under her desk. "Lord Kirkswood learned of my plans, and he has adamantly refused to have any part of them. In fact, he ordered me to drop the matter altogether."

  "But that is impossible!" Lady Kirkswood cried, clearly distressed. "How could he have learned of our scheme?"

  "Because I told him," Matty admitted, hanging her head in shame as she related the afternoon's events. She glanced up when she was finished, and to her dismay she saw the marchioness holding a handkerchief to tear-filled eyes.

  "Then you mean we can not invite even a single guest?" she asked, her voice quavering with unhappiness. "But — but I was so looking forward to having company again."

  The sight of tears on Lady Louisa's face filled Matty with protective fury. Cursing his lordship for his selfish nature, she rushed around her desk to soothe her employer as best she could. "Of course you may have company," she said fiercely, slipping a comforting arm about her shoulders. "You are the marchioness of Kirkswood, and you are free to ask whomever you please to call upon you."

  "But you just said Joss forbade you to invite anyone," Lady Louisa sniffed, dabbing her eyes with the crumpled handkerchief. "I don't wish there to be harsh feelings between the two of you, and if this is going to cause any unpleasantness it might be best if we let the matter drop. If I am so desperate for company I suppose I could always go to London — with Joss's permission, of course," she added with a brave smile.

  "I don't see what that tyrant has to do with anything," Matty grumbled, her mind working fast as she reviewed her conversation with the marquess. She looked at it from every angle, weighing each word carefully, and then a slow, crafty smile stole across her face. "Actually," she said thoughtfully, "he only said I wasn't to arrange his marriage for him. He didn't say a single word about not inviting any guests. In fact, when I first proposed the matter to him he seemed quite enthusiastic."

  Lady Louisa lowered her handkerchief. "But would that be ethical?" she asked doubtfully. "You said he made you promise you wouldn't play matchmaker."

  "He all but made me take a blood oath!" Matty bristled as she recalled the arrogant way he had extracted her promise from her.

  "Well, there you are." Lady Louisa nodded her head. "You can scarcely go back on your word, and I am almost certain Joss won't change his mind on the subject. He seems a rather determined man to me."

  "A stubborn one, you mean," Matty corrected, rising to her feet. "Not that it signifies, I'm not matchmaking. I am only inviting some of your dear friends to call upon you. You're out of mourning now, and 'tis hardly surprising you'd desire company. I hardly see that his lordship has any cause to complain."

  Lady Louisa was silent, as if considering Matty's words. "I would like to see my friends again," she admitted wistfully. "But I am afraid it would upset Joss."

  Good, Matty thought grumpily, let him be upset. She felt it was no less than he deserved for cruelly trying to deprive Lady Louisa of visitors. She began pacing, her practical mind making plans. "You mentioned that his lordship wants you to continue regarding Kirkswood as your home, did you not?" she asked, coming to a halt beside the other woman's chair.

  "Oh yes." Lady Louisa fairly glowed at the memory of the kindness shown her. "He said this was my home and that I should always be welcome here."

  "Then I don't see that we have a problem," Matty concluded, in what she felt was a most logical fashion. "We will invite your friends to call upon you at your house. His lordship needn't even bestir himself to meet them, if that is his desire."

  Lady Louisa looked doubtful. "He may suspect you of trying to trap him."

  "Let him." Matty gave an indifferent shrug. "I don't really give a fig. Now, as to the matter of guests, whom would you like to invite first? You were always rather fond of Lady Elsington; perhaps we might ask her."

  "Oh, but she is already married! That is . . . as a married lady she is certain to be spending the season in London. I was thinking we might ask Miss Gossmoore. She is a lively girl, don't you think?"

  Matty remembered a pretty brunette who had spent part of last winter at a neighboring estate. "Most lively, indeed," she said, recalling the girl's incessant chatter. "But I thought you weren't overly taken with her. You never seemed to spend much time in her company."

  "I was still mourning Frederick," Lady Louisa said with a reproving look. "But I did find her interesting. And she is so friendly we needn't worry about the conversation dragging."

  "There is that," Matty agreed with a wry grin. "Very well, Miss Gossmoore it shall be. Anyone else?"

  "Lord Frampton's oldest daughter, Sarah, is spending this season at home, so I thought we might ask her — oh, and your cousin, what is her name . . ."

  "Juliana?" Matty answered in dismay.

  "Yes. She is a beauty, if I recall rightly, and you said she was a fine rider."

  "Among other things," Matty said, trying not to shudder at the memory of the beautiful girl who had been the bane of her childhood. She was the only daughter of her well-heeled uncle, and she had outshone Matty in every single thing. The prospect of having her under the same roof, even for a few days, was enough to send her spirits sinking. But she supposed she could endure it for Lady Louisa's sake.

  "And to round out our numbers I was thinking we might invite Mr. Smythe-Boothe, and Sir Valen," Lady Louisa concluded, naming two of the most eligible bachelors in the area. "They're so amusing, and Frederick did once mention that Sir Valen went to school with Joss. I daresay he'd be delighted at seeing his old friend again."

  Matty gave a nod, thinking that a house party of some half-dozen persons shouldn't be all that dif
ficult to arrange. A few formal dinner parties, a ball or two, and, much as she detested the idea, a hunt, should be more than enough to keep their guests entertained. Thinking of a hunt brought to mind the duke, and she gave a dispirited sigh. "What of our neighbors?" she asked bluntly. "We shall have to include them in at least some of our plans, otherwise it will cause no end of hard feelings."

  "You are speaking of His Grace?"

  "And Lady Bettina. You must know she'd never forgive us for excluding her."

  "Hmph." Lady Louisa's sniff was eloquent. "Well, tempting as the thought of giving her a direct cut might be, I suppose you are right. And if we're going to include her, we'll have to invite her friend Miss Converse as well. You must know they are as close as two inkleweavers."

  "An interesting analogy, I'd have likened them to a pair of hunting lionesses," Matty said, grimacing at the thought of Lady Bettina's malicious blond friend. The houseparty was beginning to look less and less appealing.

  "When would you like to have the party, my lady?" she asked, deciding to concentrate on more practical considerations. "The beginning of June might be a good idea — close enough to the end of the season to ensure a good attendance, but not so far into the summer it will interfere with the estate."

  "Actually, I was thinking of the middle of May," Lady Louisa said decisively.

  "But that's in little more than a fortnight!" Matty protested after some swift calculations.

  "Three weeks," Lady Louisa supplied, looking downcast. "But naturally, if you can't do it I shall understand. I know how busy you are."

  "Oh, I can do it!" Matty was loath to disappoint her mistress. "It will take a bit of doing, but it's far from impossible."

  "If you're certain . . ."

  "Oh, I am," Matty assured her, her spirits lifting as her usual confidence returned. She'd kept the estate afloat all these months, she reminded herself happily, organizing a house-party would be child's play. Eager to begin, she returned to her desk and sat down.

  "We'll send out the invitations first," she said, dipping her pen in the inkwell. "And we'll have to see about taking on additional staff, although that won't be a problem, thank God. Lord Kirkswood has seen to it that the necessary funds have been made available to me, so we can begin hiring at once."