The Matchmaker and the Duke Page 6

  ‘It has,’ Jasper agreed. He introduced his companions and glanced at his watch. ‘I believe we are not too late?’

  ‘No, indeed. I am preparing now.’ He turned to Dobson with a smile. ‘I understand you are interested in seeing how we make our observations. I am about to undertake those taken every day at noon. Would you care to join me?’

  He led them over to the large telescope in the centre of the room. ‘This is our transit instrument. It was built by Mr Troughton for our previous Royal Observer, Mr Maskelyne. It allows us to correctly measure distances in the heavens.’

  After listening to the young man’s explanations, Mrs Durant left his side to wander around the room.

  ‘You do not wish to observe?’ he asked her.

  ‘I thought to give them a little space,’ she said, indicating the young couple taking it in turns to look through the telescope.

  ‘That is thoughtful of you.’ He glanced back at the couple. ‘Miss Patience has an enquiring mind.’

  * * *

  Amelia tensed at the Duke’s statement. She could not tell if he was displeased or otherwise by his tone. She had noticed that most men were intimidated if a woman showed too much intelligence. She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘I hope you do not hold that against her?’

  ‘Not at all. Intelligence and beauty. It is a delightful combination. Clearly, Dobson appreciates it. The older sister is the more beautiful of the two, though. And far more pliable in her personality.’

  The Duke would no doubt prefer a woman who would not question him at every turn. ‘Indeed.’ Oh, dear. That sounded a little repressive. ‘She is very pleasant company.’ It seemed he, like many other men, preferred beauty to brains. Likely the reason he had looked down his nose at her all those years ago.

  On that front, he might be disappointed. While Charity did not have quite the sharp mind of her sister, she was nobody’s fool and not always ‘pliant’.

  The Duke pointed up at a large telescope hung on a wall. ‘That is the first fixed-transit instrument used here at Greenwich. Put in by Halley. Over there is the great mural quadrant built by Graham.’ He indicated a huge metal arc divided into a series of measurements with a pointer suspended from its right-hand corner like the hand of a clock.

  A series of oohs and ahs from the young couple at the telescope drew their attention. Patience stepped back from the eyepiece and Dobson took her place. Patience smiled at the young mathematician. ‘Thank you so much. That was the most interesting thing I have ever seen, I think.’

  The young gentleman beamed, clearly dazzled by the beauty who was smiling at him so charmingly, flushed red and tugged at his cravat. ‘Perhaps you would like to see the circle room built by Mr Halley during his term as Royal Astronomer.’ He walked them to a door in the east wall.

  Amelia glanced at the Duke and was surprised to find his gaze fixed on her face. A hot flush rose up from her chest all the way to her hairline, as if the warmth in his eyes had somehow heated her skin. Why was he looking at her in that way? ‘We should go with them,’ she said weakly.

  He grimaced slightly. ‘There was something else I wanted to show you.’

  She hesitated. What harm could Patience come to with two respectable young men? Besides, Patience was not the sort to encourage any nonsense. ‘Very well.’

  He tucked her hand beneath his arm and his touch sent a trickle of heat drifting along her veins. She gasped.

  He looked down. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, not at all.’ She swallowed, trying to relieve the dryness in her mouth. She could not understand this effect he had on her. Not one bit. ‘What is it you wanted to show me?’

  ‘This.’ He pointed to yet another telescope. ‘This one is the instrument Bradley used when he discovered the aberration of light. The final incontrovertible proof the earth moves around the sun.’

  This was clearly something he cared about. This observatory and its observations and its history. It seemed he was passionate about something, after all, not at all as removed from ordinary emotions as she had supposed.

  ‘You believe in this,’ she said.

  ‘I do. It is vital. Every step forward means fewer losses at sea. To an island nation like ours it is imperative.’

  The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Your interests in shipping must be huge.’

  His mouth tightened. ‘I was fifteen when my parents were on a ship that ran aground. With more accuracy with regard to the ship’s position, it might not have occurred.’

  Understanding dawned. A pang struck her heart. ‘I am so sorry. I had no idea.’

  He stiffened. ‘It is not something of which I like to speak.’

  The remoteness returned his voice, as if he realised he had said more than he had intended. Clearly, he did not want her sympathy. An awkward silence ensued.

  Voices from the other room drifted through the open door on the other side of the room. ‘Oh, dear, we are supposed to be acting as chaperons. We really ought to go and make sure everything is going as it should.’

  Inside that next chamber, a huge telescope pointed skywards. Their guide was showing Patience and Dobson how it could be moved in a circle to observe any part of the sky.

  The Duke glanced at his watch. ‘I promised Lady Dobson we would be back in time for our meal and I am sure our guide has other things to do.’

  Patience looked ready to argue, but Mr Dobson nodded at the Duke. ‘You are right, Your Grace. This visit has been vastly interesting, but my mother, after all her hard work, will not be happy if we are late.’ He offered his arm to Patience.

  The young mathematician bowed. ‘It has been a great pleasure to show you and your guests around the Royal Observatory, Your Grace. Mr Pond will be most gratified in your interest.’ He ushered them to the door and they stepped out into the courtyard where the porter waited to show them out.

  They wandered down the hill to where the guests were indeed gathering at the tables.

  The Duke joined their host and hostess while Mr Dobson led Amelia and Patience to a table full of young people and their chaperons. Amelia glanced over at Stone and saw that he was listening to Lord Dobson with his usual distant expression and she wondered if he was regretting his generosity to the young Mr Dobson. He certainly did not look as if he was enjoying himself. But then he rarely did. This morning had been an unusual unbending of that icy exterior.

  And she had still not figured out his motive, since Charity was not with them, therefore had no opportunity to view his kindness.

  She frowned. Perhaps he hoped Patience would put in a good word for him with Charity. Was he less confident than he appeared?

  Thinking of Charity—where was she? It took a moment or two to discover her whereabouts. Amelia frowned at the sight of her charge sitting at a table for two with only Lord Sherbourn for company.

  She glanced over at the Duke. Had he noticed? Since he had his back to where Charity was sitting, Amelia assumed not. Good Lord, it did not matter whether the Duke had noticed or not. Every other lady present would have seen her in what looked like a private tête-à-tête. While they were surrounded by guests, it simply was not done for a single young lady like Charity to behave in such a harum-scarum fashion. It would certainly give rise to gossip.

  ‘I am going to sit with your sister,’ she said to Patience. As much as she would have liked to hurry, she sauntered to where the young couple were seated, taking care not to look anxious.

  A few feet shy of her target, a slim woman in Pomona green accosted her. ‘Mrs Durant. Good day to you.’ There was nothing friendly in the greeting.

  Amelia cursed inwardly, but smiled and dipped a curtsy. ‘Lady Warkworth. How lovely to meet you again.’

  Lady Warkworth’s daughter, Janet, had been quite friendly with Charity and Patience when they first came to town, but more recently she
had avoided their company. Amelia had thought Janet a very nice, but rather plain, young woman and had not been surprised when she deliberately distanced herself from the two beautiful sisters. They really did throw her into the shade in looks and conversation.

  ‘You should not permit Miss Mitchell to sit with that young man in that intimate way. It is most unseemly.’

  Amelia stiffened at the note of censure in the woman’s voice. ‘I believe Lord Sherbourn should know better than to draw a young lady aside in that particular way, don’t you? It is not his first Season, after all.’

  Lady Warkworth bridled. ‘Young men will do what comes into their heads, but a well-bred young woman would know better. And if you were a proper chaperon, instead of gallivanting off with the Duke and making a cake of yourself, you would ensure the young lady in your charge was observing the proprieties.’

  Amelia’s jaw dropped at both the slight on Charity and on herself. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Oh, I know what you are about. Setting your own cap at the Duke while you catch a viscountcy for a cit’s daughter.’

  The venom in the woman’s voice shocked Amelia into silence.

  ‘You think yourself so clever,’ Lady Warkworth continued, ‘but mark my words, the Sherbourns are looking much higher than Miss Mitchell for their son.’

  ‘Higher, like your own daughter, for instance.’

  ‘Well, why not? Our family is exceedingly well connected. We are related to the royal family. And you need not think Stone has any intention of marrying an ageing widow. I do hear he is looking for a mistress, now his previous one has moved on.’

  Stunned, she stared at lady Warkworth. ‘I can assure you I have no interest in—’

  ‘Then you had better make sure you are not seen so much in his company, Mrs Durant. Everyone is talking about how cosy you and he seem and how cleverly you have cut out the older Mitchell sister.’ She nodded briskly and moved away.

  Everyone thought she was setting her cap at the Duke? Or that she was trying to lure him into some sort of arrangement? She should have guessed the gossips would have a field day after their waltz.

  To assume she would be so underhanded as to try to snare her client’s potential bridegroom was an insult that was not to be borne. She would make sure no one could say that about her again. Anger heating her veins, she marched over to the young couple, whose attention was wholly devoted to each other.

  When her shadow fell across the table, the pair looked up and started. As they should.

  ‘Charity, please join your sister and me at our table.’

  The girl’s blue eyes widened. She glanced at Lord Sherbourn. ‘Charlie invited me to sit with him for luncheon.’

  Amelia gave the young man a stern look. ‘I would think a gentleman would have more care for your reputation.’

  Sherbourn flushed scarlet and looked ready to argue. Amelia raised an eyebrow and he wilted. ‘Go and sit with your sister, Miss Mitchell,’ he mumbled. Stiffly, he helped Charity to rise, then bowed. ‘I will see you later.’ He sauntered away, trying to appear perfectly at ease.

  Amelia shook her head. ‘Lord Sherbourn really should know better, Charity, and so should you. Since I cannot trust you to know how to go on, from now on you will remain with me and your sister.’

  The hurt in Charity’s eyes made Amelia feel like a dragon. Well, that was what she was, wasn’t it? A dragon protecting the very fragile reputations of the two young ladies in her charge.

  Chapter Five

  Jasper was surprised at how much he was enjoying the picnic. He’d spent years avoiding events such as this. In the first year of his come out, he’d been a target for every matchmaking mama and calculating beauty who had arrived in London. And despite Aunt Mary’s dire warnings, he had actually thought they liked him. In his second Season, feeling quite the experienced man, he had fallen at the feet of that Season’s beauty, like every other young man on the town. He had been so sure she felt the same way as he did. She made him feel like a god among men. He’d been on the verge of proposing when she begged him to find another on whom to lavish his attentions. She’d explained that if he made her an offer she would have no choice but to accept. She preferred another man, but her parents would never let her refuse a duke.

  He’d been shocked by his inability to recognise that her seeming pleasure in his company was false. Not to mention how devastated he was by her rejection. Later he’d decided he had had a lucky escape and had put aside his foolish romantic notions. The experience had taught him to avoid toadies and sycophants and sweetly smiling ladies. His immense power made people behave strangely indeed. He’d learned now not to trust appearances and to freeze all feelings from his communications with people great or small.

  His dealings with Albert Carling had been further proof that when others looked at him, they saw not a man, but a title and a means to an end.

  When the time came, his choice of a bride would be based on reason, not passion. So why did he find himself drawn to the exotic Mrs Durant? A woman who, while polite, kept her distance. Perhaps that was the reason for his attraction. He was used to people currying his favour and she was a refreshing change.

  It was as if she had thrown down a gauntlet and challenged him to make her like him. It made no sense for him to pick up her glove. She was not the sort of woman he ought to be thinking about. Her goal was to marry him off to one of the Mitchell girls and collect her fee.

  ‘It is a very good investment, Your Grace,’ Lord Dobson was saying. ‘Solid as a rock. Men whom I respect greatly are convinced this is the way of the future.’

  Jasper forced his attention back to his host. ‘Steam engines have proven to be unreliable, my lord. A novelty. Like hot air balloons.’ He actually agreed with Lord Dobson about the possibilities for steam, but he was not about put his blunt down on any old horse.

  Dobson leaned back, in his chair, his expression one of a man about to deliver a great truth. ‘I’ll agree, there are improvements to be made, Your Grace. I view it as a long-term investment. The important fact to make note of is that there are only two things needed for a steam engine to run.’ He delivered this last as if it was a tablet from the mount.

  ‘Water and coal,’ Jasper said. ‘And I own the largest coal mine in England.’

  Dobson sat up straight. ‘I see Your Grace is on top of things. But there is something more. Something you should think about. Gas lighting, Your Grace.’

  Coal produced gas. ‘Perhaps this is a matter we should discuss at another time, in private,’ Jasper said. The table where Mrs Durant and her party were sitting was breaking up. He had finished his own meal some moments ago.

  He caught himself. Had he really intended to follow the woman like some lovesick swain? No. It was not possible. He merely did not like discussing business at a social event. It simply was not done.

  ‘As you wish, Your Grace. I will have my man of business contact yours and arrange a meeting for tomorrow,’ Lord Dobson said. ‘Strike while the iron is hot is my motto. You won’t want to find yourself missing out on this venture. Not when you hear the whole of it, I’ll bet my best boots.’

  Jasper found himself amused, rather than irritated, by the man’s enthusiasm. ‘I shall be pleased to look into this investment opportunity of yours in greater detail. Have your man send over the details before the meeting.’

  Lord Dobson looked pleased and gratified.

  Lady Dobson on the other hand was looking anxious. ‘Oh, my word, what has Harold done now?’

  ‘What concerns you, my dear?’ Dobson turned in the direction of his wife’s shocked stare. As did Jasper. He repressed the urge to laugh. It would not be polite given his hostess’s obvious distress.

  Across the lawn marched a ragtag group of mummers, men dressed as women or in other guises including a dragon and a knight, with the clear intention of performing a play.
r />   The guests rose from the tables or left the games they’d been playing and gathered around them in a semi-circle.

  Jasper joined Mrs Durant, who frowned and somehow managed to move so he was beside Miss Mitchell rather than herself. The girl smiled up at him. ‘Isn’t this fun? I have never seen a mummers’ play before.’

  ‘Then you are in for a treat.’

  Miss Mitchell gave him an enquiring glance.

  Lady Dobson coloured, shook her head, bit her lip and rushed off to speak to her son. After some sort of argument, Lady Dobson looked resigned and returned to her place beside Jasper.

  ‘Harold promises me it won’t be shockingly bawdy,’ Lady Dobson said in a low voice. ‘I do apologise, Your Grace.’

  As the play unfolded, their audience broke into loud laughter at the death of the knight, at his miraculous cure by the capering doctor and his final slaying of the dragon with much feinting and dodging. At the end, the players looked very pleased with the applause they received.

  Jasper expected them to come around begging for payment as was traditional, but they did not. In fact, as they moved off he caught a few words they spoke among themselves and he realised these were not common folks at all.

  ‘They are very good. Who are they?’ he asked Lady Dobson.

  She pursed her lips as if unwilling to say, then sighed. ‘Harold’s friends from university. Not exactly gentlemen. They did it to raise funds for their education while at Cambridge.’

  ‘Yet they do not ask for alms.’

  ‘No, they played as a favour for my son.’

  The young Mr Dobson was a man of many parts. With the right sort of encouragement, he would go far.

  From time to time during the play, Jasper had glanced at Mrs Durant and she, too, had obviously enjoyed the mummery of the players. More than once, she had laughed out loud at some naughty joke or political reference.

  He liked watching her laugh. Most of the time she was far too serious.