“Perhaps it’s time I stepped in to do something about this,” Preston said thoughtfully.
“And buy her a husband? Gad, no, don’t even try. It’s love or nothing for her. I promise you, she’ll settle for nothing else.”
Preston tsked. “No, I didn’t mean anything as old-fashioned as arranging a marriage for Mandy. I know very well how much that would upset her. But I’ve been rather selfish, hoping she’d take her time at this, when three Seasons at it may have unwanted consequences, as you say.”
“The title of old maid?”
“Indeed. Beyond silly, but I’ll agree it wouldn’t be to her. No, I was thinking more along the lines of having a little chat with my old friend Gertrude Allen.”
Raphael chuckled as he glanced at the two matchmakers again. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt at this point. Should have thought of it m’self.”
“Exactly. And then I’ll feel that I’ve done something to help her with this husband hunt that’s so important to her.”
A bit of commotion at the door drew their attention along with everyone else’s, as two late arrivals stepped into the ballroom. The shorter of the two men looked vaguely familiar to Raphael, but the other man, probably in his midtwenties, was tall and handsome, had a strapping body, black hair a bit longer than the current fashion, and a dangerous air about him that made him seem quite out of place at first glance, even though he was properly dressed. A bit too muscular, he reminded Rafe of a bloody bruiser or worse.
“Who is that?” Preston asked with interest. “Is he part of the current crop of eligibles?”
Raphael’s protective instincts shot to the fore. “I don’t know who he is, but I don’t want him going anywhere near my sister.”
Preston raised a brow at him. “Why?”
Raphael groaned inwardly. Pure instinct had made him say that, and something that strong was hard to ignore. Was he the only one who sensed that this newcomer was dangerous?
He hedged, “A little rough around the edges, don’t you think?”
“So’s your good friend Duncan MacTavish.”
“Duncan has an excuse. He was raised in the Scottish Highlands.”
“Maybe you should find out who this big fellow is before you discount him just because he looks a little out of place here.”
So his father at least noticed that? But the chap wasn’t a complete stranger to the ton. Some of the guests tonight obviously knew him because a young, engaged couple hurried toward him and greeted him effusively. Perhaps Raphael was wrong. Perhaps the man was perfectly harmless and only appeared dangerous because he was so big.
“M’lord Duke?”
Preston coughed over being called that, and Raphael turned to see a middle-aged gentleman extending a hand to Preston. They’d found him out! That got Raphael’s mind off the newcomer for a moment and he almost laughed, imagining a line of guests forming to meet the reclusive Duke of Norford.
“Deny it,” Raphael whispered to his father with a grin.
“Don’t be absurd,” Preston shot back, and accepted the fellow’s hand.
Raphael saw another couple heading eagerly toward his father and said in an amused aside, “You asked for it.”
He heard Preston sigh before Raphael left him there and went off to find Ophelia. She had to know who that bruiser was.
Chapter Three
“I HAVE NO IDEA WHO he is and haven’t had time yet to find out,” Ophelia said. “We only just got to town, so I’m not yet abreast of the current gossip. But I did hear a few people calling him Cupid. Quite interesting, that.”
Raphael tamped down the pang of jealousy he felt at Ophelia’s finding the chap interesting and waited for her to finish giving the servant instructions to take to the cook. Of course she’d want to know who was at her party. She always made sure to find out who the uninvited guests were before they left in case she should want to include them on the guest list of her next party.
“Now, where were we?” she asked, turning back to give Rafe one of her stunning smiles.
God, she was beautiful, he thought. White-blond hair, blue eyes, ivory skin, features so exquisite they dazzled all who gazed at her. That little dent she’d got high on her cheek when a horse had trampled her didn’t detract from her looks one tiny bit. He would have wished it did if it wouldn’t have upset her. No one should be this beautiful. He did wish he didn’t still get jealous occasionally when he saw her talking to other men. He bloody well had no control of it when it snuck up on him, even when he knew he had no cause. But then no one had ever compared to her in beauty and probably never would.
“We were discussing your handsome uninvited guest,” he reminded her.
“Ah, yes. I did invite his friend the Honorable William Pace, because he’s got a sister having a come-out this year and I couldn’t remember her name. I thought he’d bring her, but I suppose she was otherwise engaged.”
“Pace, of course, now I remember him. Good chap. Lost both his parents recently. Don’t think I’ve met his sister, though. . . . Cupid, eh?” Glancing again at the pair across the room, Raphael rolled his eyes. Exactly how rumors and inaccurate gossip got started, when people didn’t know all the details of a subject and elaborated on their own. “That’s probably a rumor gone awry, since it would otherwise suggest he’s a matchmaker.”
Ophelia chuckled. “I quite agree. I’m sure only women dabble in that. But there must be something that’s making him a bit of a sensation for me to have heard the name Cupid at least three times before he even arrived, and quite a few more times after he appeared. But before I could ask why, I was asked about your father. Someone has recognized him, so everyone is curious now to know why he’s come out of hibernation, as it were.”
“For Mandy, of course. You’d think they’d draw that conclusion and let it go at that.”
She disagreed. “Not a’tall, when she’s had two Seasons without his chaperonage.”
They both glanced toward Amanda, but Raphael frowned, noticing the one chap in her group who hadn’t been there earlier. “What the deuce is Exter doing here? That blighter is a known fortune hunter.”
“He’s staying with Lord and Lady Durrant. I didn’t know that until they arrived with him in tow. Besides, Mandy won’t be fooled by the likes of him. She may like to pretend otherwise, but she is a smart girl.”
“I love her to pieces, but you’re talking about my sister. She can be the veriest scatterbrain and—”
Ophelia poked his chest. “She’s nothing of the sort. She’s just easily excitable. Nothing wrong with that. I doubt she’ll have trouble a’tall figuring out which of her beaus are in love with her and which are in love with her father”—Ophelia paused long enough for Raphael to burst out laughing—“er, her father’s title.”
He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I know, I’m probably worrying for nothing.” He tapped his chest. “I just feel it here, Mandy’s unhappiness with the difficulty she’s been having. She shouldn’t be having such a hard time of it. Look at her, she’s adorable, she is a prime catch. What the deuce is taking these young men so long to win her?”
“Because none of them have been quite right for her, of course. Rotten timing has been the problem. You can’t force love. It just hasn’t happened for her yet. But there’s a new crop of gentlemen come to town this year. New choices, new chances. We can hope this year love will find her.”
They both ended up staring at the new arrival again, the tall, handsome one. Having seen him laugh with the young, engaged couple, Raphael didn’t think the man seemed quite as menacing as he had at first glance. And perhaps Raphael ought to be sociable and make his acquaintance to find out for himself if his first instinct had been accurate.
Ophelia was thinking something else entirely. Cupid? Only someone successful at matchmaking could earn a nickname like that, surely. Unless it was just a joke, which it could certainly be. No man would want to be likened to a cherub, would he? In either case, she ought to find
out for sure.
Across the room, as soon as Sir Henry and Elizabeth Malcort finished chatting with them and moved off, William Pace assured his best friend, “I told you you’d fit right in and know some of the guests.”
Devin Baldwin laughed because they both knew the first part of that statement wasn’t the least bit true. Devin was too big, too tanned from spending every day outdoors, and too abrasive because he didn’t mince words and never would, no matter what company he was in. He might have been schooled in how to be a gentleman, but he’d found those lessons to be useless, either absurdly amusing—or hypocritical.
William had been trying to get him to come to parties like this one for years, but Devin had only recently seen a benefit to doing so. Not that he hadn’t begun socializing this year when he found the time. But the invitations he’d received from his clients had been to lesser affairs, which he considered business, nothing as fancy as this one, where every guest bore a title of some sort. Yet now he was receiving invitations from titled nobles he’d never even met, all because he’d helped a few of his clients with matters that had nothing to do with the horses he bred.
He’d ignored the fancy invites so far—until tonight. He didn’t exactly like these rich London nabobs—unless they were his clients. But even then, he found them to be a silly, frivolous bunch mostly concerned with trifles and entertainments rather than real life. They reminded him too much of the father he hated. They reminded him of the mother who had turned her back on her family so she could enjoy the sins of London. He was more used to country gentry anyway, lords who actually ran their own estates instead of turning them over to factors, men he could respect because they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.
“Fascinating, isn’t she?” William remarked.
Devin shifted his gaze to the ballroom’s ornately carved fireplace before he said, “Which one?”
William laughed at him. “Well, our hostess is married and, by all accounts, blissfully so. But you know I was talking about Little Miss Sunshine.”
“I’m trying not to notice her.”
“Why?”
“You’re the one looking for a rich wife, not I,” Devin replied. And that little chatterbox his eyes kept returning to was too pretty by half. The last thing he needed was to get tempted by a woman he could never have.
“Good of you to bow out on this one for my sake, old chap, but I’m not a complete blockhead,” William said. “Don’t stand a chance with a prime chit like that.”
“Nonsense—”
William cut Devin off with a chuckle. “Very well, I’ll own up to it, I gave it my best shot last Season. Didn’t know yet that her father’s a duke. Didn’t care after I found out. But she couldn’t even remember my name! Deuced hard on the ego, that, so I gave up. But you, big, handsome, they don’t even care that you’re a little rough around the edges.”
That produced the laugh William had intended to elicit from his friend, even if it was quite true. “I may have revitalized the home farm, but I don’t actually consider that my income. And the title that used to be in my family trotted off centuries ago through a daughter instead of being passed down to distant cousins. You do realize Little Miss Sunshine’s family would require at least one of those attributes, if not both?”
“You’d think so,” William said thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, you do think so, but some families are so rich and lofty, normal expectations simply don’t apply.”
“Or they’re even more important.”
William shrugged. “Who knows? But I’ll shut up—mind you, only because you insist you’re not interested in a wife yet. Just think you should keep an open mind in case one happens to fall into your lap—”
“Thought you were shutting up?”
William grinned, but then his eyes suddenly flared and he said, “Uh-oh, brace yourself, your competition is bearing down on you.”
“My what?”
Devin turned to see the two old ladies approaching him. The one in the lead was plump and gray-haired and looked angry enough to spit. The other was shapely, still had blond hair mixed with her gray, and looked embarrassed as she tagged along behind the stouter dame.
“Young man, I’ve a bone to pick with you!” the old dame in the lead snapped at Devin.
“Madam, adjust your tone or take your bone elsewhere,” he replied just as directly.
She was rendered speechless for a moment. William took that opportunity to jump in with quick introductions. The second lady, Gertrude Allen, even seemed surprised at hearing Devin’s full name.
“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Lydia Baldwin, would you?” Gertrude asked him.
Devin spared a smile the for soft-spoken woman. “Indeed, she’s my aunt.”
“Oh, my, I know your family quite well. My late husband used to travel all the way to Lancashire just to replenish his stable from them. Wonderful horse breeders. An old family tradition, eh? Your grandparents were still alive then as I recall. And more recently your aunt helped my Fluffy after she and your uncle moved to London. What a superb dog trainer she is. After only a week with your aunt, my Fluffy came home and never chewed on another table leg again! Mabel, I told you about—”
The older dame had recovered by then and cut in, “He can breed all the horses he likes, but he should keep his nose out of what he can’t possibly know anything about. Listen here, Cupid,” Mabel said in a derogatory tone, using the nickname that Devin had recently earned, “you might be something of a sensation right now because you’ve had a bit of luck at matchmaking, but it’s absurdly presumptuous of you to even try your hand at it when you’re a newcomer to town and—”
“I’m not new to London,” Devin said.
“’Course you are. Who has ever heard of you before this Season?”
William tried to deflate the old bird, but he was sounding a bit annoyed himself now on Devin’s behalf. “Wouldn’t call m’self a nobody, Lady Mabel. Devin’s my best friend, as it happens. He and I went to school together. He was even born in London, if you must know. He’s merely been up north revitalizing his family’s horse farm since we got out of school, so he’s been too busy to come to town to socialize these last years. But he’s bought a property near London in order to be closer to his clients, so you’ll be seeing a lot more of him now.”
The old bird wasn’t deflated in the least, merely spared William a glare to say, “That is not good news, William Pace.” Then she actually wagged her finger at Devin. “You’ve been lucky so far, but it’s a serious business you’re tampering with, and people will get hurt if you steer them wrong. This is just a lark for you, isn’t it? Just an amusing pastime?”
Devin shrugged. “Can’t deny it’s amusing, but it’s not something I set out to do. It just fell in my lap. But there’s no luck about it, it’s simple animal magnetism that makes for a good match. A man and a woman have got to want to rut, but after the rutting, they’ve got to have something in common or their happily ever after falls apart.”
“How . . . how dare you!” Mabel sputtered.
“Think about it, old girl, and you’ll realize I’m right. How many of your happy matches are still happy? Or are the husbands already keeping mistresses on the side?”
William was coughing, having choked on a half laugh, half groan. Gertrude was staring down at her feet. Mabel was speechless again and so red in the face she looked as if she might burst. Even Devin knew he’d just gone beyond the pale, but he simply didn’t care. Damned jealous old biddy had no call to upbraid him for commonsense methods that worked.
Their hostess took that moment to make her presence known, and to go by her expression, she seemed quite amused over what she’d just overheard. And now Devin was blushing! Bloody hell.
Ophelia put her hand gently on Mabel’s arm. “There’s no reason to be upset, m’dear. A little outspokenness is refreshing from time to time. Imagine what would happen if all artists wanted to paint the same way? Our walls would be nothing but boring.”
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“Hardly relevant,” Mabel mumbled, her cheeks beginning to cool.
“Perhaps, but no one is stealing your thunder. The tried-and-true methods always work, yet there is room for innovation, yes? But goodness, I haven’t even met this guest of mine yet.” Ophelia cast a brilliant smile at the two men. “I’m Ophelia Locke. So good of you to join us this evening. Oh, and, William, good to see you as always.”
Mabel actually chuckled at that point. “You really shouldn’t do that, Phelia.”
“What?” Ophelia asked with an innocent grin.
“You know very well you’ve just dazzled the speech right out of both of them. Serves ’em right.” Mabel marched off, dragging Gertrude with her.
“I think you’ll survive on all accounts, won’t you, gentlemen? But tell me, Devin Baldwin, do you mind being likened to a cherub, or do you merely find it amusing?”
William was still staring at her agog. It took Devin a few moments to actually hear the question. He’d already thought this woman was the most beautiful he’d ever seen in his life, but bloody hell, her smile was lethal. He pitied her husband—like hell he did, he almost laughed to himself.
“As the myth goes, Cupid is also the god of love, as well as the son of Venus.”
Her eyes flared. “Good grief, I never realized they were calling you a god!”
He laughed. “Which is about as silly as it gets, so, yes, I find it quite amusing.”
“The matchmaking methods you were discussing are quite interesting. Has that approach helped you to find a wife yet?”
“I’ve no time for a wife.”
William piped in, “Dev is working toward producing racers now on his new farm just outside of London, north of the racetrack.”
“Yes,” Devin said, “I’ve changed the focus my family has always favored. It’s a long process, but I’ll know come spring if it’s working or not.”
Let Love Find You Page 3