A Lady's Perfect Match: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  She passed Hannah in the hallway. "I'm going out for a bit of a walk later, if you wish to join me," she said with a smile. "But first I must entertain Brody. Can you believe he'd come to visit so early? Mother would have a thing or two to say about the whole debacle."

  That fleeting look crossed Hannah's face again but was gone in a moment. "How odd," she said quickly. "How odd indeed that he would come this early. No, I don't think a walk would suit me well today. I'm quite overwhelmed by the events of yesterday and think it would be better all round if I stayed inside and rested."

  "Suit yourself."

  Emelia made her way downstairs to the sitting room and walked in on soft feet. Brody was standing with his back to her, looking out the window at the estate grounds. She walked quietly, the old tradition they'd always shared of surprising one another since they were children, but when she was nearly to him, Brody said, "Not today, Emmy."

  There was something in his voice: something faraway and not at all like Brody. When he turned to look at her, the same sadness was in his eyes.

  "What's the matter?" she asked.

  He sighed, then attempted one of his trademark smiles. "You trying to steal my secrets without even offering me some tea?"

  She cast a wry glance his direction. "Brody, tea is for people who arrive at teatime. You're here before breakfast."

  He bit his lip, looking like the little boy she'd first met. She relented a little, nudging him gently on the arm. "Cheer up, lad. I'll call for a spot to drink." She reached over and pulled the bell, then motioned to the seat. "We know each other well enough that I don't need to show you to your settee, do I?"

  He sat, balancing his riding hat on one knee. His fingers tapped a rhythm against it. He was like a different person—all the teasing swagger of the night before had vanished and instead he was lost in thought. She'd seen him like this after his father's death and wondered if Montgomery's visit and their conversation the day before had brought memories best buried to the circle.

  She knew him well enough to know that he would speak when he was ready, and not a moment before. The happy, light hearted amongst us always need the most time to say real things. The tea came, borne by a little maid along with a raised eyebrow at the time of day. Emelia shooed the girl away with a smile. When they were alone again and Brody had taken a sip of the warm tea, he spoke at last.

  "Yesterday you asked about my brother, and when I told you of all that had happened you offered to help. Do you remember that?"

  She nodded.

  "You said 'anything,' correct?"

  Another nod, although Emelia had a moment of misgiving at how much her friend was harping on about her willingness to be of assistance. "What of it, Brody?"

  "You see…" That finger kept tapping and tapping. "I do need some help, and I think you're just the person. I was talking with Montgomery yesterday about our father's passing. You know, they were always so much closer than Father and I were. It bothered me once, but I'm closer with Mother, and I don't think I should begrudge my brother his friendship with Father. After all, the two were much more alike than I: serious, intellectual, socially restrained."

  Emelia waited, saying nothing. She had the feeling that when Brody got around to his main point, he would leave this trail of remembrance and tell her exactly what he needed. In a moment, he did.

  "Anyway, it's just so difficult to see Montgomery taking this so hard. I feel that the best thing to do is to provide him a distraction, and not just any distraction—something that will last long enough to remind him that he has a heart."

  Emelia frowned. "You want to find your brother…a girl?"

  "A woman. To marry."

  Emelia couldn't help herself. She let out a laugh and fell back on the cushions. "Brody."

  "Don't laugh." He pretended offense, but Emelia could see the first softening of the day in his features. "It's not that funny, Emelia. I'm serious. There is no surer way to get over a deep loss than to bury oneself in the life of another."

  "I've heard that saying," Emelia answered wryly. "But if I recall it was from a parson, and it was about the poor and the fatherless, not a new romance."

  "I know that it would help him. If he could just spend a few days in the company of a truly sparkling woman and remember that he has a heart to lose, then perhaps he will pull himself out of the guilt he's thrown himself into and feel good about himself."

  "I don't know, Brody." Emelia raised her eyebrow. "That sounds like a solution that would help you, but your brother seems a bit more serious. How helpful would it really be to him? Also, the poor lass." She shrugged her shoulders. "Isn't Montgomery a bit dour to be riding around the hillsides reciting poetry and wooing strangers?"

  "That's just it." Brody sat forward, a light of excitement in his eyes. "I don't want to throw the future of my brother's happiness on the shoulders of a woman I don't know. That would be preposterous."

  "Oh. That would be preposterous."

  Brody ignored her sarcasm. "I have decided that we should choose the lucky lady from among our own circle. I will lift his spirits by finding him a wife from among the eligible young ladies in this part of the county, someone he has known his entire life but never thought of in that way. Someone like…Hannah, perhaps?"

  Emelia blinked. "Now you have to be joking."

  Brody stared back at her, his expression serious. She knew him pretty well, and though he was often a jokester, he had never been very good at lying to her. She cocked her head to the side, taking in his expression. "Wait," she said in mild annoyance. "You're serious. Hannah?"

  "Why not?" Brody shrugged his shoulders. "I was just talking to her yesterday and was struck by how much beauty and grace she's grown into over the years. She seems very self-possessed and very pretty. Why shouldn't she make Montgomery the happiest man in the world?"

  "But it's Hannah," Emelia said, feeling like an idiot repeating the name again. "Hannah, Brody."

  "While your argument against my plan is truly compelling, I fear you'll have to come up with something a bit more substantial before I remove myself from the war path," Brody said with a grin. "I've been up all night thinking of it—that's why I'm here at this 'ungodly hour' as you so delicately implied—and I'm more and more convinced that it's a good idea. Hannah is a lovely girl; my brother is a somewhat serious but still quite a handsome and occasionally funny man. It would be an excellent match, and I'm sure your parents wouldn't object."

  On that point, at least, Brody was right. Emelia knew that her parents had fancied one of the Shaw boys for either her or Hannah since they'd first married, and they'd always preferred the smart doctor to the sparkling dandy.

  "Come on, Emelia. You're always with me in my shenanigans. What better shenanigan than the search for true love?"

  "You don't believe in love."

  "But I believe in the power of a random ideal to influence people for the better."

  Emelia shook her head. There was a misgiving in her stomach at the thought. She couldn't explain why, but something about the whole affair felt like it went too far.

  "I'm not convinced that meddling in another person's love life is a good idea," she said at last. "I don't think I can help you, Brody. After all, I'm not sure what exactly you expect me to do. Do you want me to wrap my sister up in ribbons and deliver her to Montgomery's door?"

  Brody laughed. "That would be a picture indeed. No, Emelia. I want you to do what you do best. Throw a party; bring people together. You love to do that sort of thing, and if you were to focus a bit more on singles and a bit less on the family down the block with the lovely children, you would probably be able to orchestrate a match between your sister and Montgomery."

  "You know, more than anyone else," Emelia said drily, "that my particular love for parties is not matched with an equal amount of skill. I don't have what it takes, and that's that. Those evenings always end in disaster."

  "And the mornings and afternoons," Brody said cheerfully. "Don't forget the e
vents at those precipitous times."

  Emelia threw her napkin at him in annoyance. "You also are leaving out the critical point of attraction. Don't you think it matters whether or not the lady likes the gentleman in question? I've never heard Hannah speak about Montgomery in that way."

  "But…" Brody said with a leading tone, "…have you ever heard Hannah speak about anyone in that way? It's not like her to be so open with her feelings. I think it wiser for you to assume that your pretty little sister has a crush on the handsome doctor and let nature take care of the rest."

  Emelia rolled her eyes. "You're being purposefully misogynistic to frustrate me, and it won't work." She had to admit that the more Brody talked about the meeting, the more she wondered about Hannah's interest. Hannah was fairly quiet about matters of the heart.

  She'd never confessed, in fact, to any sort of schoolgirl crush, which was odd indeed. If she did tell her heart to anyone, it was to Emelia, and Emelia had heard nothing. Perhaps Hannah was open to the possibility of a liaison with Montgomery. But she didn't want to relent; not now that she'd taken such a strong stance.

  "Why don't you just talk to Montgomery yourself?" she asked. "Tell him that you think a woman would improve his general outlook on life, and tell him that you think Hannah to be a good option. What could go awry?"

  "I've already tried. And to give you an idea 'what could go awry,' Emelia, I will tell you his infernal answer: 'Brody,'" Brody began, mimicking Montgomery's deeper, quieter voice, "'My heart is too fragile for a lady.'"

  Emelia raised her eyebrows. "Well spoken. Enough of this, then."

  Brody gave a great, dramatic sigh, and pulled his eyebrows up as though he was preparing to deliver an oration. "Emelia Wells, if you won't help me by setting up your sister with my brother, than I'm afraid I'll be forced to turn to other people as a consideration. You know that Hannah is not the only eligible lady in the area. Perhaps you would consider hosting an event where we could sit Lady Michelle Parker by my brother."

  Chapter 7

  Emelia frowned at Brody.

  "That is not fair," she said sharply.

  "Why? Because I know you don't think very highly of her? Emmy, envy isn't a good look on you."

  She pursed her lips together. "You really think that your brother, the doctor, the man obsessed with learning more and expanding his intellect, will be satisfied with a woman who wants to primarily discuss the lace she got from London last week?"

  "Exotic lace. She has interest in foreign countries." Brody winked. He was winning, and he knew it.

  "She's vapid. Frivolous."

  "Careful, Emelia. You shouldn't speak about your guests that way. A good hostess is full of grace at all times. And Lady Michelle Parker is a regular guest of yours. When did you start disliking her so much?"

  Emelia stared hard at Brody. He knew full well that Michelle had been a long-term thorn in her side.

  "Allow me to remind you of that time when we were ten years old, wading in the creek on lake day, and Michelle took it upon herself to tell your family that you were gathering frogs from the creek bed. Or that time when we booked a trip to the north and she insisted on coming along and complaining about every leg of the journey?"

  "Ah yes," Brody said sarcastically, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's hold a woman's childhood mistakes against her for eternity."

  "Just yesterday she talked about high-laced boots for forty-five minutes."

  "Careful, Emmy, your voice is raised well above the proper volume for a lady." Brody shook his finger as though scolding her.

  She sighed and fell back against the cushions of the couch in a childish gesture of exasperation. "Alright," she said quietly.

  "Alright what?" Brody asked innocently enough.

  She rolled her eyes but stayed silent.

  He winked. "I think I'm going to need you to say it, friend."

  "I will host a party for singles," she said grudgingly, "but nothing too fancy—a morning tea or the like—and I will sit your brother next to my sister. But nothing more. I'm not responsible for throwing Hannah at anybody."

  The timing was dreadful, for as Hannah's name came out of her mouth, the girl in question was walking by the door outside. She poked her head into the room.

  "I heard my name."

  She stepped into the room in a pale blue dress with a matching blue ribbon around her head. It was strange, Emelia thought; before she'd seen Brody, when she met her sister in the hall, she could have sworn that her sister was wearing something different.

  "We were talking about you," Brody said grandly, waving Hannah inside. "Your sister is going to have a lovely tea for singles, and we of course must invite you. What is a Wells party without Miss Hannah in attendance?"

  Emelia watched her sister. There was something strange in the way she stood and the bright color in her cheeks. She wondered if Hannah had been at the door listening before she appeared, but dismissed the thought when Hannah said, "That sounds lovely. I was just thinking that an event like that would be fine. Will your brother be there, Brody?"

  "He will!" Brody turned a significant glance in Emelia's direction, and she hoped that her sister didn't notice it.

  Trying to distract from his lack of tact, Emelia waved her hand to Hannah. "Come, sit."

  Hannah blushed and looked at Brody. "No, actually, I'm headed into the library—I mean, the garden. I'm so sorry. I can't stay."

  Brody cocked his head to the side. "You look different, Hannah. Is that a new gown?"

  She blinked in response, opened her mouth as though to say something, and then giggled lightly. It was a completely unfamiliar sound from her sister, and Emelia wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Hannah cleared her throat and seemed to gather herself.

  "Yes," she said more demurely. "It is new, and I will say I'm impressed that you noticed."

  Brody raised an eyebrow and shook the lacy hem of his sleeves. "Obviously I am a fellow fashion enthusiast. We should work together to get your sister into something a bit more modern."

  Emelia rolled her eyes at their familiar line of teasing.

  "You two should find something new to say and someone new to tease," she scolded.

  Hannah gave a little curtsy.

  "Well, I don't want to intrude on you two," she said. "Keep talking and planning that little soiree." With one backward glance at the two, she left the room on light feet.

  Brody watched her go with a frown. "Is she alright?"

  Emelia smiled.

  "Who knows? Maybe someone's forcing her to cheer up their morose older brother."

  Chapter 8

  The morning of the tea party was two days later. Emelia, perhaps out of weariness with the garden party only days past, perhaps as an act of rebellion against Brody's slapdash plan, didn't go out of her way to make it extravagant as she would ordinarily have done. She arranged with the cook to brew a light tea and to serve scones and sandwiches at the breakfasting room inside.

  "We've got a new tea in from London," the cook said hopefully. "I don't think it's a black tea—it has some sort of subtle flowery smell. I think it would be a huge hit." The woman gave a slight grimace. "Perhaps redeem our last incident?"

  Emelia smiled kindly at the woman. "I trust you. If it smells good to you, and you think it would pair well with the menu, than I encourage you to go ahead with your plan. Something new from London is just what this party needs."