Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

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Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance) Page 12

by Patricia Haverton


  “I assure you, my Lady, nothing is going on between the Duke and I. Nothing at all.”

  Lady Chatterley shrugged. “Nothing tangible, nothing that has been spoken of. But feelings do not have to be spoken of to be real, dear Miss Evans. Fear not. Nobody else saw. While our society is fond of gossip, they are not very perceptive. It is only because I know you and I know the Duke that I am able to detect a hint of … let’s say affection.”

  Alexandra was torn. She wanted to tell Lady Chatterley all the thoughts and feelings she carried inside and to confide in her, but she knew that was not an option. Nobody must ever know of these stirring feelings.

  “There is no affection. At least not on my part. I have sworn long ago never to lose my heart to any man, as you know. Nothing has changed.”

  Lady Chatterley smiled at her kindly. “And yet, everything has changed.”

  Alexandra didn’t have it in her to further protest and fell silent.

  “It is quite alright. You keep your own counsel, Miss Evans. But be forewarned of the Duchess and her ill intentions. I would not like to see you, or your reputation, harmed in any way.”

  “I thank you for your concern. Now, when is the baby due?”

  She was grateful when Lady Chatterley decided to follow her lead into a more harmless territory. For the remainder of the journey, they spoke only of menial things, much to Alexandra’s relief. Once the carriage dropped her off at her house, she entered with a belly full of worries. This entire courtship was becoming much too complicated. She could not wait for it to be over.

  Chapter 18

  The following evening, Maxwell made his way to White’s, where he engaged in a game of Whist with some of his fellow Lords. He’d sought distraction but found that his mind remained occupied solely by Miss Evans and the events that transpired at Almack’s the previous night. Oh, how he loathed his mother for sending Miss Evans away when he’d so enjoyed her company.

  If only mother had not seen us dancing together. She is a keen observer of people and must have detected a connection between us. I must do my best to convince her otherwise. Although…must I? Perhaps it is best she knows. No. She would make the poor woman’s life a misery if she knew of my feelings for her.

  If only he could get those feelings and the matchmaker out of his mind. Alas, it was futile. He could not concentrate on the game as his heart was not in it. He soon lost a small fortune and, unwilling to engage in further games, he excused himself to the supper room.

  Elsewhere in the club, the sound of laughter could be heard as the men engaged in lively wagers. Maxwell did not feel like partaking in any activities. Instead, he ordered a glass of port and retired into a quiet corner.

  As he waited for his drink to arrive, he stuck his hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved an old, brass locket. He opened it up once more and studied the portrait inside. It was of Mrs. Evans, the matchmaker’s mother, he was sure of it. She resembled her daughter so. The same honey-colored eyes, the same hair, and that same enchanting smile. He’d spotted the locket on the dancefloor after Miss Evans had been dismissed for the night. He’d attempted to rush after her and give it to her, but she’d already gone out the door and hadn’t heard her when he called for her.

  He’d intended to give it back to her upon their next meeting at the menagerie. That engagement was still several days away, however. Perhaps it would be wiser to travel to her office and hand it to her personally. She would surely be missing it. Was that proper? Yes, he decided it was best to return it. He would do so in the morning.

  Happy with his decision, he settled in, port on the table, book in his lap.

  * * *

  He’s just engaged in his reading when he saw the front door open and Lord Cladborough entered.

  By Jove. That is all I need right now. Maxwell looked around him. I wonder if there’s time for me to slip into the men’s room or out the back door without him seeing me?

  He did not have time to find out, for Lord Cladborough had already laid eyes on him and marched across the room with a scowl on his face. Although the scowl was not indicative of his mood, for he always had the same grim expression on his face.

  “Your Grace, good to see you this evening.”

  “Lord Cladborough, always a pleasure. I missed you at Parliament today.” Maxwell could not help but bring up the topic of the Earl’s constant absence from the House of Lords.

  “Ah well, yes. I had business to attend to in the city, unfortunately. I heard it was uneventful, as always.”

  Maxwell took a large swallow of his port. “I dare say, if more of us Lords attended, more would be accomplished.”

  Cladborough laughed. “I do not anticipate that happening anytime soon. Anyhow, we have White’s to discuss matters, do we not? Though I am here tonight for the games, not to discuss business. Care to join me for a game in the card room?”

  Maxwell was in no mood. He certainly did not wish to spend what was left of his evening with the Earl and so he shook his head.

  “I have had my fill and I have already lost more than I care to admit. But thank you for the invitation. Another time. I intended to finish my port and then go home for the night.”

  Cladborough acknowledge this with a nod. “Suit yourself. Just know I’m always available for a friendly game or two. And perhaps soon you and I can sit together and discuss the future.”

  The words hung in the air, their meaning clear to them both.

  “Certainly.”

  Cladborough departed toward the card room, leaving Maxwell behind to ponder the very real possibility of having to deal with the Earl for the rest of his life, by way of his marriage to his daughter.

  Maxwell shuddered at the thought. He emptied his port and banged the cup on the table before getting up.

  * * *

  He decided to take the air and walk to Woodley House, sending his driver up ahead. Sometimes he liked the quiet of the evening. It helped settle his thoughts. He wandered past the shops along King’s Road, many of which were closed. He considered stopping into the coffee shop but decided against it. He did not feel like socializing, and given his status in society, he was recognized anywhere he went.

  He pressed on until he came upon Sweets and Such, a candy shop he used to frequent. It stayed open late, for the proprietor was well aware that many of the gentlemen enjoyed a sweet after a night of games and wagers. He glanced inside the window, his mouth watering as soon as he laid his eyes on the sweets displayed in the window. Surely a piece of marzipan was in order, after the night he’d had. Yes. That would do.

  He opened the door and approached the counter where he ordered several pieces of the almond candy. He was about to pay when he spotted something else.

  “Is this licorice?”

  The young man behind the counter followed to where he was pointing and then nodded.

  “It is indeed, Your Grace. Would you like a taste?”

  He got ready to retrieve a piece for him, but the Duke shook his head.

  “No, thank you. I do not enjoy the taste, but please pack me up some to go. And use a nice box, the one with the gold trim, if you don’t mind.”

  He smiled to himself. While he did not like licorice, he knew someone who adored it. Certainly, Miss Evans would allow herself a treat from a client. Certainly, that would not be considered inappropriate, would it? No. He was sure many clients gave her tokens of appreciation for her hard work. Yes, he would present her with the candy when he returned the locket the following day. If nothing else, he could take the opportunity to apologize on his mother’s behalf.

  Chapter 19

  Oh no! Where is it? I cannot possibly have lost it. Not my mother’s locket!

  Alexandra frantically searched her bed chamber. She tore apart her bedding, looked underneath and failing to find the item, proceeded to search every inch of the house. It was to no avail. Her mother’s locket was nowhere to be found.

  When had she lost it? Where? She wore it so much that it
was almost a part of her. She’d only discovered it was missing this morning. Sometimes, when life overwhelmed her, she found herself reaching for the locket, as if holding it strengthened her connection to her mother. She had done so just this morning, which was how she came to find that it was missing.

  Alexandra thought back to the last time she knew she was in possession of it. Ah yes! Lady Marlborough had commented on it upon her arrival at Almack’s on Wednesday night.

  Had she still worn it when she left? She wasn’t sure. She had not left the house the previous day. The day had been occupied with visits from clients and the planning of the week ahead. If it was not in the house, she had to have lost it at some point between entering Almack’s on Wednesday evening, and returning home that night. Alexandra rushed outside, hoping that perhaps it had fallen off her neck when she exited the carriage that night. She only hoped the street sweepers had not come by yet.

  Her gaze was fixed to the sandy ground as she searched up and down the street. If it was not here, it may be in the Chatterleys’ carriage. The only other place it could be was at Almack’s. Or somewhere on King’s Street. Either option seemed hopeless. What with so many people, what were the chances someone would have found it? Even if they had, there was no way to know who it belonged to.

  “Dear child, what are you doing with your nose almost on the pavement?” Mr. Holmes took a step out from his shop, having observed her through his shop window. She looked up. She had been up and down the street three times. The locket was not here.

  “I have misplaced my mother’s locket. I do not know where. I had hoped that it fell off my neck as I exited the carriage on Wednesday evening, but it is not here.”

  “Never fear; let me lend you another set of eyes.” Mr. Holmes proceeded to follow the same path she had just taken in search of her locket. But he had to admit defeat. He patted her shoulder to comfort her.

  “I am sure it will turn up. Have you thoroughly searched your house?”

  She nodded as tears sprang into her eyes.

  “I have, Mr. Holmes, I have. It is nowhere to be found. I cannot believe it slipped off my neck without me noticing. I have had it ever since I was a young girl, and I have worn it every day since my mother gave it to me. How could I have lost it? How could I have been so careless?”

  “Now, now, child. Do not fret. I am sure it will turn up. You said you arrived home by way of carriage? Let us go down and see if we can find a hackney driver and have him search.”

  Alexandra shook her head. “Lady Chatterley drove me home.” Holmes clapped his hands together.

  “Even better! Let us send a messenger and ask her to look. Certainly, if it is in the carriage, she will be able to locate it and return it to you at once. In the meantime, why don’t you take a coach down to Almack’s and see if they will let you inside to look.”

  “I am not sure anybody will be there. It is not Wednesday, after all,” Alexandra wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Certainly, somebody will be there. The Lady Patronesses meet the Friday morning after the ball to discuss any adjustments that have to be made to membership based on the events at the previous night. Lady Marlborough will be able to assist you.”

  Alexandra nodded. “I hope she can.”

  She was about to depart when a thought popped into her head.

  “Speaking of Lady Marlborough, I had a rather curious exchange with her at Almack’s. She seemed to think I received my voucher due to a connection to the Earl of Alderth. She seemed to think I was a personal friend of his.”

  “Oh?” The old man averted his eyes. “She must be confused.”

  “Is that so? She seemed very certain.”

  Mr. Holmes swallowed hard.

  “She did not give me a voucher just because you procured a rare gem for her, did she?”

  The old man sighed and shook his head. “No, she did not. Lord Alderth was the one who reached out to her on your behalf.”

  “But why? He doesn’t know me.”

  This was such a strange turn of events. Alexandra did not know what to make of it.

  “It was a favor to me. I promised your mother I would always look after you, and I knew that attending Almack’s would help you. Your mother always spoke of it. Since the Earl is a frequent customer of mine, I asked him for a favor. And he granted it. In exchange for a little discount on his next pocket watch purchase.”

  Alexandra felt her heart swell. She could not help but hug the old man.

  “Oh Mr. Holmes. You are the kindest man I know. Thank you. But you did not have to lie about it.”

  He shrugged, still not looking her in the eyes.

  “I know you are uncomfortable accepting help sometimes; it seemed easier.”

  “Thank you.”

  He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “It is fine. Now, make your way to Almack’s and find your locket.”

  Alexandra did not hesitate. She set out to hail a coach to get back to Almack’s.

  Chapter 20

  Maxwell closed his eyes and tried to ignore the never-ending stream of words that flowed between his mother and Lady Frances. They had been steadily conversing for almost an hour, while Maxwell was reduced to nodding and answering a question every now and again. He’d rather be anywhere but here.

  It had been several days since their evening at the ball and he had been surprised with how quickly his mother had moved forward with the luncheon engagement with Lady Frances. Maxwell still felt uncomfortable without Miss Evans here. Shouldn’t the matchmaker be present for, well, matchmaking activities? Truthfully, had it been any other matchmaker, he would not have concerned himself with the question at all.

  Really, Maxwell simply wanted to see her again. There was no denying it.

  He had gone to her office to return her lost locket, but she had not been home. He’d contemplated leaving the locket on her doorstep, but decided against it. The reasoning had been two-fold. First, he did not wish to risk it being stolen, and the second and more important reason, had been that he wanted to simply see her. He wanted to see the look on her face when she saw the locket and the candy he’d bought her.

  His desire to see her had only grown over the last few days. He’d sought to deny those feelings, but it was in vain. Since the ball, it had become obvious. He craved her presence. For the first time in his life, Maxwell was experiencing feelings he never thought possible. Feelings he knew he should not be having. Not for the matchmaker. She was a commoner, after all. To even entertain romantic thoughts about her was a futile waste of his time. He knew it.

  Yet, he continued to let his thoughts drift to her. Why was it that he could not feel what he felt for Miss Evans for Lady Frances? Why could he not force himself to?

  I wonder if I occupy her mind as she does mine. I wonder if she thinks of me as anything other than her client. She looks at me as though she does. She speaks to me in a manner that implies she sees more in me. Still, how am I to spend time with her when my mother is interfering? I cannot simply seek her out. To be seen with me in an inappropriate setting would risk her reputation.

  He knew the best thing to do would be to simply stop thinking about her and move forward with this courtship. Perhaps in time, he’d grow to feel something other than apprehension when thinking about Lady Frances. After all, affection could grow, could it not? It did not have to be instant as it was with Miss Evans.

  Ah, here I go again. Thinking of her. Even when I try to think about Lady Frances, my thoughts travel back to her.

  This had to stop. He had a duty to wed a proper lady of the ton, someone who would be acceptable and expected. Lady Frances was all his mother wanted for him. Therein lay the problem. He found Lady Frances excessively boring and had little common ground with her. For the past hour, she and his mother had conversed about the arts, the opera, and music. All the topics he was not interested in. She cared not for any of his passions, nor did she inspire any kind of excitement in him. He did not even wish to pretend as thou
gh he cared for her interests.

  For certain, his mother had attempted to introduce him to various arts, and he attended all the required functions, but with hesitation and reluctance. He never experienced any joy from sitting in a room full of people, listening to opera, or watching dancers hop across the stage in a ballet. He endured these outings as they were expected activities of members of his class.

 

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