The Matchmaker and the Duke Read online

  He grimaced. ‘Very well, but try not to look so anxious and we will see what we can do to carry this off.’

  He was right. She schooled her face into calm cheerfulness. ‘Let us go.’

  They reached the group in short order. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument and ceased their discussion at Amelia and Jasper’s approach.

  Jasper bowed and at that moment looked the very epitome of a rakish highwayman. ‘Miss Mitchell. Sherbourn. At last we find you. We quite lost sight of you in this crowd.’

  Charity’s mouth dropped open.

  Sherbourn stuck out a belligerent jaw. ‘Stone. What do you want? You and your bit of muslin aren’t welcome.’

  Amelia gasped.

  ‘You will keep a civil tongue in your head, you idiot,’ Jasper growled. ‘Mrs Durant and I are here to save you from your folly.’

  ‘Mrs Durant?’ Charity exclaimed. ‘I am so glad to see you. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my whole life.’ She sounded closes to tears. ‘I should never have come.’

  ‘No, you should not have,’ Jasper said harshly.

  ‘Now, now,’ Amelia said, not wanting to start the girl off sobbing. ‘It is a mistake to be sure, but as long as you are properly chaperoned, there is no harm done.’

  Charity turned on her co-conspirator. ‘You said it was perfectly respectable as long as no one recognised me, but that man—’ She shuddered.

  ‘What man?’ Jasper said, sounding menacing.

  ‘You have no need to worry about him,’ Sherbourn said stiffly. ‘I sent him to the right about, I can tell you.’

  ‘Miss Mitchell should not have been exposed to such insult,’ Jasper replied equally stiffly.

  Oh, dear, it seemed they might be about to come to fisticuffs over Charity’s honour. Amelia had not realised the Duke felt so strongly.

  Charity sniffled. ‘Lord Sherbourn threatened to run him through.’

  Just the sort of thing that would get them noticed. ‘Charity, do not weep. You will draw attention to us all,’ Amelia said sternly. ‘Let us return to the Duke’s box where we can observe the festivities in private.’

  ‘You have a box?’ Charity’s eyes widened. ‘Lord Sherbourn said they were dreadfully expensive.’

  Sherbourn bristled at this roundabout criticism of his arrangements for the evening.

  ‘Never mind that,’ Amelia said hastily. She took Charity’s arm and walked her back to the box, smiling and talking trivialities as if nothing was wrong. She was grateful when a servant opened the door and they tucked themselves into its shadowed privacy. She let go a sigh of relief.

  ‘Oh...’ Charity sighed ‘...this is most comfortable. Mrs Durant, do look at that woman in the flowing red gown. I swear she has dampened her petticoats. Who is she supposed to be, do you think?’

  Lord Sherbourn glowered. ‘Not the sort of woman you should be emulating.’

  ‘It might have been better if you had thought of that before you brought her,’ Jasper muttered.

  ‘I didn’t know she was going to appear in such a scanty get up,’ Sherbourn replied. ‘She said she had something she had worn to a ball in York. Something her papa had approved of, therefore I assumed it would be perfectly respectable.’

  ‘It is perfectly respectable,’ Charity flashed back. ‘You are such a prude.’

  This must be the reason for the argument she and Jasper had interrupted. ‘Do you have a cloak, Charity?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Charity said. She winced. ‘I left it on the chair where we were sitting.’

  ‘I will fetch it,’ Jasper said.

  ‘No,’ Sherbourn said. ‘I should have remembered it. I will get it.’

  ‘Let me go, Sher,’ his friend said. ‘I’ll be back in a trice.’ He escaped as if the devil was after him. Clearly, he was not enjoying the atmosphere in the box.

  ‘Have you had supper?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘I was about to order it, when you and the Duke showed up,’ Sherbourn said. ‘As soon as a table came free.’

  Jasper heaved a long-suffering sigh and beckoned a waiter to attend them.

  Amelia felt like heaving a sigh herself. For a time, being here with Jasper had been like a girlish dream come true. Finding Charity here was like divine retribution for something she should never have embarked on. An affair with the Duke of Stone. The suitor of one of her clients. If she was careful, Charity might never realise she and the Duke had chosen Vauxhall for an assignation. But it must never happen again.

  ‘Does Patience know you are here?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ Charity murmured, looking shamefaced. ‘She would have been sure to talk me out of it. And I so wanted to see the fireworks. I love fireworks.’

  Amelia had also wanted to see the fireworks.

  She glanced around. Were people looking at them? She could not tell. Jasper was right, though, there had been one or two curious glances sent their way when they were dancing. This evening had all the makings of a disaster.

  Mr Cox came up to the front of their box and handed Charity’s cloak to Sherbourn. ‘If you will excuse me,’ the young man said with a wary glance at Jasper, ‘I have seen a friend of mine and I think I will join him.’ He gave his friend an anxious glance. ‘I think it would be best if I do not mention that Miss Mitchell came with me and Sherbourn.’

  Charity beamed. ‘Thank you, Mr Cox.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Jasper said sternly. ‘You will tell your friend that you met Miss Mitchell and that she is a member of the Duke of Stone’s party.’

  Cox looked puzzled.

  Sherbourn looked bitter.

  Amelia smiled at the young man. ‘It is the truth, is it not? Here we all are, in the Duke’s box.’

  Cox looked at Sherbourn, who nodded, albeit a little unwillingly. Cox’s brow cleared. ‘Sher, I told you it was not a good idea to bring a debutante to Vauxhall without her papa’s permission. This will serve. Indeed, it will.’ He bowed and left.

  Jasper leaned close and murmured in Amelia’s ear, ‘It seems Sherbourn’s friend has a smidgeon of sense, even if it is after the fact.’

  Yes, and if they wanted the gossips to accept their story they would have to act as if it was the truth. ‘I believe we should stay for the fireworks. Would it not look odd if we left before the highlight of the evening?’

  For a long moment Jasper gazed at Charity. Was he displeased at her attendance here with Sherbourn? Displeased enough to wash his hands of her? Perhaps he saw the entreaty in Charity’s expression and found himself unable to resist her appeal, because he nodded. ‘Very well. We will stay for the fireworks.’

  Charity clapped her hands. ‘Thank you, Stone.’

  He gave her an indulgent smile.

  Amelia’s heart gave a painful squeeze.

  * * *

  This was not the evening Jasper has intended. But Amelia was right, they had to act as if all was well. Why on earth had he got himself tangled up in such a farce in the first place? Because he had wanted to spend time with Amelia, the way any ordinary man would.

  What a ridiculous idea.

  The moment they’d arrived he’d been recognised. There was no way Miss Mitchell’s identity would remain a secret either. The only one way to rescue her reputation was to act as if he had indeed invited her and her chaperon, along with the sulky Sherbourn to the masquerade.

  His name and Miss Mitchell’s would be on everyone’s tongue by morning.

  Exactly as Amelia hoped, no doubt.

  He glanced at the matchmaker. Yes, she was looking very pleased with herself. Had she planned this? She had been very quick to suggest that he rescue the fair damsel in distress. He sipped at his champagne and observed the beautiful Miss Mitchell. Would he be happy married to such an innocent?

  She would be putty in his hands, easily moulded into the sort of wi
fe any man would want on his arm. But would he be happy? There was that word again. It seemed to have lodged in his brain when he thought he had excised it years ago.

  * * *

  Sherbourn ate little of the second supper Jasper ordered. Naturally, nor did Amelia. But Miss Mitchell set about hers with gusto, exclaiming over the deliciousness of every bite. When she was done, Jasper waved over their waiter and had him remove the dishes.

  The orchestra struck up another tune and Miss Mitchell tapped her foot in time to the music.

  ‘Would you care to dance, Miss Mitchell?’ Jasper asked. For the sake of appearances, it was the right thing to do at this juncture.

  ‘I would love to,’ Miss Mitchell responded. ‘But they have played nothing but waltzes all evening.’

  ‘Miss Mitchell does not waltz,’ Sherbourn said repressively.

  ‘I think you should waltz with the Duke,’ Amelia said brightly. ‘After all, you do have permission and I had intended you should at the next assembly we attended.’

  ‘May I indeed?’ Miss Mitchell said. She jumped to her feet and kissed Amelia on the cheek. ‘Oh, wait until I tell Patience. She will be so jealous.’

  Stone and Sherbourn rose with her.

  ‘You may,’ Amelia said ‘But you will observe the proper distance and only dance once.’

  ‘Her first waltz should be with me,’ Sherbourn muttered. ‘I brought her.’

  ‘Without permission,’ Amelia said severely.

  Sherbourn glowered at Charity. ‘Do you want to waltz with Stone?’

  She looked stricken. ‘I—Do you not want me to?’

  Sherbourn brushed back a lock of hair from his forehead. ‘You must do as you please.’ He leaped over the box railing and strode away.

  Miss Mitchell went bright pink.

  Jasper sighed. Sherbourn was such an idiot.

  ‘Yes, Stone,’ Miss Mitchell said with a toss of her head. ‘I will waltz with you.’

  He took her arm and led her out on to the dance floor.

  * * *

  Amelia thought the evening would never end. When Charity returned to their box after her dance with Jasper, she seemed in excellent spirits, whereas Amelia felt empty.

  Having already decided this would be her last meeting with Jasper, she had hoped it would be memorable. Now it was a memory that would be tarnished. She carefully seated herself a little apart from the couple, making it clear she was merely the chaperon. By tomorrow, all would know the Duke was about to make an offer for Miss Mitchell and the ton would expect to hear a betrothal was in the offing.

  It was what she had hoped for from the beginning.

  At last she would be able to buy her little house in the country and retire to enjoy her gardening and the quiet social life a country village could offer a widow.

  As if to show her willingness to fall in with these plans, Charity kept up a stream of artless chatter to which Jasper—His Grace—responded by nodding indulgently while he sipped his wine until groups of people began to leave the rotunda and make their way towards the open area where the fireworks could be seen to their best advantage.

  ‘Shall we go see the fireworks?’ Stone asked rising from his seat.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Charity said. ‘Do you think we can acquire a place near the front, so I can see everything?’

  ‘I have no doubt His Grace can manage that,’ Amelia said.

  The Duke gave her a sharp glance, but said nothing. Having escorted them out of the box, he linked his arm with Charity and then held his other arm out to Amelia. Not to take it would have seemed rude. She hooked her arm through his.

  They followed the general exodus and, exactly as she expected, he found them the perfect spot from which to observe the fireworks, unobstructed.

  The fireworks showering light overhead were beautiful, but they were not the pièce de résistance. It was the set pieces that were astonishing in their complexity. A carriage and horses looked as if it was moving, a waterfall that tumbled into a pool and, the grand finale, words of farewell that seemed to move across the sky.

  At the conclusion, Charity clapped her hands. ‘Bravo. I have never seen the equal of that. Thank you, Stone.’

  ‘You are welcome, Miss Mitchell.’ He turned to Amelia. ‘I hope you found them equally entertaining, Mrs Durant?’

  She had been feeling too disappointed to really enjoy them. ‘I did indeed, Stone. Most enjoyable.’

  She had tried to sound enthusiastic, she really had, but from the tightening of Jasper’s lips and his frown, she had failed miserably. Yet there was no denying that the fireworks had been splendid.

  ‘It is time I got you ladies home,’ Jasper said.

  Amelia had the feeling he could not wait to be rid of them. A thought that made her heart feel truly heavy. Tonight, they had cast the die. He would have no option but to offer for Charity. She forced her lips to smile. ‘Indeed. Let us go before it becomes too difficult to find a ferry to take us across.’

  ‘No need,’ Jasper said. ‘My carriage is now waiting upon the road yonder. I will have us back across the bridge in no time at all.’

  * * *

  As he had predicted, they were among the first to leave and they crossed London Bridge in short order. At the Mitchell residence, Amelia climbed out with Charity.

  ‘May I drop you at your house, Mrs Durant?’ Jasper asked.

  While she was tempted to say yes, Amelia shook her head. ‘I have a room here for the night. Mr Mitchell arranged it for the nights when we are late home from a ball or a party. I shall make use of it this evening.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Miss Mitchell said. ‘For I see a light in Papa’s study and I fear he knows I went out and will demand an explanation.’

  Jasper looked at her. ‘Do you wish me to come in with you?’

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ Amelia said. ‘Do not worry, Charity, I will make everything right with your papa. Goodnight, Stone. Thank you for a pleasant evening.’

  Jasper saw them to the door and gave them both a hard smile. ‘Goodnight, ladies.’

  The butler let them in.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day, Aunt Mary interrupted Jasper’s meeting with his man of business.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said. ‘I did not realise you were busy.’

  Well, that was a bouncer. Aunt Mary always knew exactly what was going on.

  ‘I think we have completed our business, have we not, Trim?’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace. Nothing else that cannot wait.’ His man of business bowed himself out and Aunt Mary took his seat in front of Jasper’s desk.

  ‘What are your intentions with regard to Miss Mitchell?’

  Another woman asking him the question.

  ‘Do you also think I should make her an offer?’ he asked lazily.

  His aunt shot him a look. ‘Do not use that tone with me, Jasper. I am not deceived. You are annoyed at my asking.’

  He picked up his pen and ran the quill though his fingers. ‘Then why do it?’

  ‘Naturally, I think only of your happiness.’

  He leaned back. ‘What is the definition of happiness, Aunt?’

  ‘The knowledge that you have done your duty and have done no harm to those around you.’

  ‘That is all?’

  ‘Does there need to be more?’

  He tossed the pen to one side. ‘I suppose not. But I do wonder what has caused you to visit me with this burning question about Miss Mitchell.’

  ‘Her father was here this morning. What a nightmare of a man.’

  Jasper had been aware that his aunt had received a visitor at an unseasonably early hour. He’d been informed of it when he returned from his morning ride, but he had not enquired as to the identity of her caller. He did not interfere with his aunt and he did not expect her to inte
rfere with him. ‘I have not met her papa. I am surprised to hear he called on you.’

  ‘You were out.’

  He leaned forward in his chair. ‘So you agreed to see him in my stead? Don’t you think that rather high handed?’

  ‘Jasper, you know I do not poke my nose into your affairs, but he insisted on seeing someone. Caldwell was going to throw him out until I came across them at the front door on my way to breakfast. I had no choice but to smooth his feathers or we would be facing a scandal.’

  In his aunt’s eyes there was nothing worse than a scandal. The family name must remain unbesmirched, no matter the cost.

  ‘What scandal?’

  ‘She was seen with you at Vauxhall last night.’

  He stared down his nose at her. ‘She and her chaperon were there at my invitation. She wanted to see the fireworks.’

  ‘You invited her to a masquerade at Vauxhall? Have your wits gone begging? Have I not always warned you to be careful around women of the middle classes? They do not understand the rules of society and nor do their papas. He is insisting that you make her an offer, chaperon or no.’

  ‘You did tell him that the only reputation at risk is his daughter’s, I assume.’

  Her lips thinned. ‘I did. I felt sorry for the poor man when he realised I was right. Personally, I blame the Durant woman.’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘It was my fault you fell into her clutches. I have heard things since then that have made me regret the introduction.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘They say she is very clever at her business. She has manoeuvred more than one man into marriage. No doubt she schemed the whole thing.’

  ‘It is not possible.’ It was he who had suggested they attend the masquerade. He pushed a niggling doubt aside. ‘Are you now saying you do not like the idea of a match between me and Miss Mitchell?’ Sometimes the female mind was unfathomable. Not sometimes. All the time.

  ‘She is a nice young woman. Quite lovely. With nice manners and a good heart. But to be honest, having met her father, I have my doubts. And I certainly did not wish for you to be forced into marriage by some trick.’