The Matchmaker and the Duke, page 21
Her courage gave way. He would not want her to see him this way.
She turned. The gravel crunched under her feet.
‘Mrs Durant?’
Dash it. She turned back to him. ‘Your Grace. I am sorry, I should not have disturbed you.’
He tossed the sprig aside. ‘No matter. How may I be of assistance?’ He smiled encouragingly, though his eyes were full of sadness.
Beneath his chilly exterior he was a good, kind man. Pain pierced her heart. How could she have misjudged him so?
She swallowed. ‘I wanted to apologise for believing all that awful stuff Albert said about you. It was unforgivable of me, but I want you to know how sorry I am.’
He gave her a cool smile. ‘No matter. We all make mistakes.’
It did matter. But what more could she say if he cast off her apology so casually? ‘I should go.’
‘My mother planted this garden. The scents change with the season. I haven’t been here for years, but this morning I felt in need of the memories it brings of her.’
‘You miss her.’
‘Foolish as it may seem, I do. Both of them. I was so angry when they died.’ His chuckle sounded raw. ‘I decided they could not possibly have loved me if they would risk their lives knowing I needed them. It helped me cope, being angry.’
Her heart ached for the boy who must have felt as if he’d been deserted. Her arms longed to offer comfort. But she did not have the right. ‘Oh, Jasper, how dreadful for you. But you know they did not do it on purpose to hurt you.’
He sighed. ‘I do, now. But it made my life dashed difficult, I must say. But I am holding you up. You are ready to depart, I presume? I told Bedwell to fetch me when the carriage was brought round.’
So Bedwell had known, but had been ordered not to tell her. ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace, and for your understanding.’
He bowed. ‘You are welcome. And I imagine your reputation for making excellent matches remains unrivalled, even if you did not catch your heiress a duke.’ There was a touch of bitterness in his tone.
She frowned. His words provoked a flash of insight. ‘You already knew you would not make an offer for Charity when you invited us all to visit Stone Hall.’
His eyebrows shot up.
‘You intended for her to fall into Lord Sherbourn’s arms,’ she continued, walking closer to him. ‘Thereby saving her the embarrassment of not receiving an offer from you. You engineered the whole thing.’ She saw it all now. Of course he would not have wanted Charity hurt after he decided not to make her an offer. That was who he was.
He shook his head. ‘You are giving me too much credit, my dear. I had nothing to with Albert’s schemes.’
‘Of course not that part. You are far too kind and honourable to do anything of the sort. Oh, how I misjudged you on so many fronts.’ Tears, hot and painful, welled up, making it hard to speak. ‘How could you possible forgive me?’ She turned away and scrabbled in her reticule for a handkerchief.
A large white folded square appeared over her shoulder and was pressed into her hand. ‘My dearest Amelia. Please. I hate to think I am the cause of your upset. Do not cry.’
‘But I am not your dearest Amelia,’ she said, trying not to sob.
‘Indeed you have been since the moment our eyes met at Sally Jersey’s ball.’
Amelia looked up in shock as her gaze locked with his, hoping and yet disbelieving. ‘Why did you not say so?’
‘Because you were too busy trying to marry me off to an heiress for me to believe you cared for me in that way.’
The pain in her heart intensified. ‘And then I went and let Albert convince me you were a terrible person. All this time, my heart has been telling me you are a good, kind man, but after my disastrous marriage, I could not trust my heart and I kept trying to keep you at bay. I was afraid. I am such a coward.’ She sniffed.
He tipped her chin with a fingertip. ‘Oh, my dear, not only are you beautiful, you are brave and courageous. And while your belief in Albert’s accusations stung, you are not the only one to fall for his lies. I did so myself when I was a lad. Albert is clever.’
‘Horrid man.’ She dabbed at her eyes.
He sat down on the stone bench, smiling suddenly, as if his mind had cleared. Looking at Amelia with unmistakable fondness, he took her hand and pulled her on to his lap, then proceeded to use his handkerchief to dry her tears. ‘My darling girl,’ he murmured. ‘Is it possible you can put aside your fears and give us a chance at happiness?’
‘You still want to, after what I did?’
He smiled. ‘Sweetheart, I do, with all my heart. You are the only woman I have ever met who I could see standing at my side as my equal, my partner in both mind and heart.’
She sighed. ‘Oh, Jasper.’
‘I shall take that as a yes.’
He kissed her.
Epilogue
The double wedding at St George’s Church of the Mitchell sisters that autumn would be spoken of by the ton in the same breathless tones that they had spoken of the marriages of the Gunnings in years past.
Seeing both girls so happy and both grooms as proud as punch, Amelia could not help but be pleased with her role in their matches.
‘Are you satisfied?’ Jasper asked as he stood behind her on the portico, watching them depart in brand new carriages emblazoned with coats of arms purchased by Papa Mitchell as wedding presents. A proud papa indeed.
‘How could I not be?’ Amelia said.
‘Then we need make haste or we will miss a far more important wedding.’
‘Far more important to whom?’
‘To us, you wretched woman.’
Poor Jasper. She had made him promise to wait until after Charity and Patience’s wedding She had not wanted to steal their thunder. Only Papa Mitchell knew that she and Jasper were to wed. She had felt it only right that she inform him of the circumstances and waive her fee from the settlements.
At first, he had been taken aback, but when he realised how happy his girls were with their choices of husbands and that he wasn’t going to be out of pocket as far as Amelia was concerned, he had been exceedingly gracious.
Jasper took her arm and they slipped away, walking from Hanover Square to the ducal town house.
Aunt Mary met them at the door. ‘Here you are at last. The Bishop is getting impatient.’
Jasper looked down his nose.
Amelia gave him a little dig in the ribs.
He grinned. ‘You are ruining the ducal stare, my dear.’
Aunt Mary handed Amelia a bouquet of silk forget-me-nots, though she had been quite at a loss as to why Amelia had insisted on the flower. Amelia had requested them to tease Jasper because he still could not remember their first meeting.
They entered the drawing room together and found Lady Jersey entertaining the Bishop of London. The Bishop rose to his feet, clutching a glass of sherry. Jasper’s valet and his butler stood at the side of the room, looking uncomfortable in their role as witnesses, but also terribly proud. Amelia smiled at them and they blushed.
‘Your Grace,’ Jasper said, bowing to the Bishop.
‘Your Grace,’ he replied.
Lady Jersey came forward and wagged a finger at Jasper. ‘Sneaking up the back stairs again I see, Stone.’
He grinned. ‘Amelia did not want a big fuss.’
‘It is my second marriage,’ Amelia said. ‘I see no reason for us to make a spectacle of ourselves.’
‘I still think we should have made a big splash,’ Jasper said. ‘I want everyone to know how happy I am.’
Lady Mary sighed. ‘I am glad to hear you say it, Jasper. It is what I always wanted for you.’
Amelia believed her. Unfortunately, the dear lady had simply set about it the wrong way by making him suspect the motives of everyone around him, when he had already had doubts about his parents. Still, that was all in the past. She would make sure Jasper never had cause to doubt he was loved from now until for ever.
Lady Jersey turned to Amelia and gave her a hug. ‘Well done, Mrs Durant. You will make a wonderful duchess. He needs someone to take him in hand and you are just the one.’ She frowned at Jasper. ‘I do wish you had let me know what you planned. I would have worn something a little more suited to the occasion.’
Jasper had said Sally was too much of a chatterbox to keep anything a secret, so he had merely sent round a note asking if she could call on him at eleven, as he had something important to discuss.
‘You look divine as always,’ Jasper said.
She giggled.
‘Shall we begin?’
The butler whisked the Bishop’s glass away. The Bishop stood in front of the hearth and Jasper took Amelia’s hand.
The others in the room gathered behind them.
‘Dearly beloved,’ the Bishop said. ‘We...’
Dearly beloved, Amelia thought. That is exactly what I am.
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, why not
check out these other great reads by
Ann Lethbridge
Rescued by the Earl’s Vows
An Innocent Maid for the Duke
And be sure to read The Widows of Westram series
A Lord for the Wallflower Widow
An Earl for the Shy Widow
A Family for the Widowed Governess
Keep reading for an excerpt from Compromised into Marriage by Liz Tyner.
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Compromised into Marriage
by Liz Tyner
Chapter One
She ached to stay alive.
Vivian put one foot in front of the other, her arm linked in her older companion’s for support. The morning’s rain still lingered in puddles and Vivian knew she would mark her half-boots with mud. She’d not left her home in three months and she was going to take a stroll with Mavis, or else.
She wished to be wearing her new dancing slippers, but that had been a frivolous purchase. Another pair to wear when she was alone, then hide away so no one would know how much she wished to attend soirées.
Her former governess gave her a sideways glance and Vivian smiled. They could do it. She could do it.
They walked down Park Lane, then turned so they could stroll past the town houses and return to their own home.
Vivian’s heart pounded. Perhaps the words the physician had told her mother had been correct. Perhaps she should accept that she would not live to see another birthday.
She didn’t really notice the town coach slowing at the side of the street. Two liveried men guided the horses to a stop. Drivers and horses were routinely going about their work. One of the coachmen dismounted as Vivian and Mavis walked alongside the carriage.
Mavis stepped close to the vehicle, avoiding a deposit from a horse.
The door swung open—there were no steps beneath it. Before Vivian could react, the door crashed into Mavis’s head.
Thwack.
Mavis’s bonnet bounced from her head as silver hair splayed out and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Life blasted through Vivian’s limbs. She called out her companion’s name.
Mavis stirred.
‘My pardon.’ The man who’d opened the carriage door rushed the words, while his clasp on both of Vivian’s arms lifted her aside as effortlessly as a chess piece.
He knelt over Mavis, assessing her injuries. Mavis moaned.
Fear clutched at Vivian, freezing her movements.
‘Jasper. Go for the physician,’ he shouted to the coachman. Then he lifted the older woman up, his movements swift, minimal and controlled. The shoulders of his coat tightened, but no strain showed on his face.
The servant slapped the ribands and the horses galloped away.
The stranger carried Mavis and, in only a few long strides, he was over the threshold of one of the town houses.
Vivian stood, still grasping what had just happened. She clasped her bonnet strings, staring after the man who’d dashed away with her dearest friend in his arms.
She’d not thought someone with such long legs could have changed direction, crouched, stopped, then raced into action again. She’d watched, confusion flittering through her mind at what was happening in front of her.
She pulled her thoughts together and gathered all her resources. Then she rushed as fast as she could to the doorway without having any idea whose house it was. Nothing mattered but that she help Mavis.
Once inside the entrance, she noticed everything about the home gleamed, which somehow eased her fears.
A butler, mouth open, stared at her as she stopped in the entry. He didn’t seem to know whether to run after his employer, or attend to her.
‘Where’s Mavis?’ she asked.
He pointed to the stairway. ‘Door on the right.’
She grasped her skirt in both hands and ignored all the things Mavis had taught her about being a proper lady. She ran up the stairs, her breaths coming quickly from the effort, reticule bouncing.
At the top, she shot through the open door, the butler following in her wake.
Mavis was on a sofa. The tall man stood over her, knees bent, and his shoulders obscuring Mavis.
Vivian moved to the left, reassured to see her companion awake.
‘Just a bump. A bump.’ Mavis reached up, her gloved hand touching her nose. When she pulled back her hand, she saw the blood, wavered, and slumped against the cushions.
The black-coated man whirled to the butler. ‘Waincott. Fetch Mrs Rush.’
The servant retreated, following the order.
The man saw Vivian. He moved forward, his touch skimming Vivian’s arm, reassuring her. ‘My housekeeper will help. She’ll know what to do until the physician gets here.’
His attention returned to Mavis as she stirred again.
Moments later, an older female rushed past Vivian. ‘Let me see to her.’ She carried a bowl of water. ‘Stand back, Everleigh.’
She put the container on a table and bent over Mavis, who was mumbling about the pain.
‘What day is it?’ The housekeeper sloshed the cloth in the basin.
‘The day I got whacked on the head.’
‘Yes.’ The housekeeper touched Mavis’s chin, moving it a bit so she could examine her closely. ‘Your nose has already stopped bleeding. You’re going to have the biggest black shiner I ever saw. Let me wipe away the blood to see the damage. Next, we’ll work on a good tale for you to tell about getting thumped by a jealous debutante.’
Mavis laughed.
The housekeeper directed a comment to Vivian. ‘Leave it to me. She’s got a drop of blood on her clothes. I want to get it out before it sets.’
‘Will she be fine?’ Vivian asked, her clasp tight at her chest.
‘Most certainly I will,’ Mavis answered, her voice gaining strength. ‘Give me an instant to catch my breath, Vivian, and we’ll take our leave.’
The man in the black frock coat fixed his ice-blue gaze on Vivian. In seconds, she felt he’d beheld her so closely that she could have left the room and, had he been an artist, he could have sketched a complete likeness of her.
Then he spoke to Mavis. ‘You’ll not be leaving until the carriage is back, the physician has seen you and my coachmen can escort you home. And only then if the physician is convinced it is safe.’
The lady who’d rushed to Mavis’s side wrung out a rag, splashing water in the bowl. ‘I’ll be the judge of when she’s able to move.’ She stretched the cloth wide. ‘Us vixens got to stick together.’
Mavis chuckled.
When she realised her friend could laugh, Vivian’s strength waned as quickly as a marionette with its strings removed.
‘I need to sit, sir.’ She gazed up at him.
She felt his fingers clamp on both her arms again as he pulled her to him, keeping her aloft by the power in his hands and his gaze. ‘Were you injured?’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not until you grasped my arms.’
She almost stumbled he released her so fast. Her breathing took all her strength.
She saw a force in front of her that she’d never bet against and her knees weakened again. Then his eyes warmed, consoling her.
His arm caught her waist and his broad shoulders were no longer imposing, but bolstering. He guided her into a library smelling faintly of tobacco. Leading her to a chair big enough for her to curl up and sleep in, he released her, moving slowly so he would be ready should she fall. She could feel his touch in a different way than she’d felt anyone else’s.
‘You’re shaken from seeing your companion’s blood,’ he stated.
She shook her head, and let herself slide into the chair. ‘No. I’m just...’ She smiled and shrugged. ‘I’m dying. I saw the letter my mother wrote my aunt before she sealed it. It’s a secret. Mustn’t let anyone find out.’ She settled and held an extended index finger to her lips in a mock command to shush him. ‘There’s no hope. Nothing can be done.’
For all the weakness she felt in her bones, she could see the opposite in him.
He stood solid—a man who could make Almack’s patronesses fluster. He had more strength in his voice than she could ever remember having in her whole body. But at this moment, his gaze told her he would use all his resources for her comfort and the knowledge rushed through her with intensity.
‘I overtired myself.’ She sat straighter. ‘We would be pleased to allow your carriage to see us home later. We’d much appreciate it.’ She emphasised, ‘I would much appreciate it.’
