A Matchmaking Miss (10 page)

"A dinner party?" Joss queried, frowning as he remembered the lavish affairs he had endured in London.

"Just a small one," Matty assured him, thinking he was concerned over costs. "No more than ten or so people, and as we are just coming out of mourning no one will expect us to entertain in high style."

He was quick to tumble to her meaning. "I wasn't thinking about the expense, Miss Stone," he said, deciding it was time he acquainted her with the truth of his circumstances. "In fact, you can invite however many people you wish. I can afford it."

She blushed at his acuity. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise, sir," she said, mortified that she may have offended him.

"Didn't you?" He gave her a sagacious look, "Well, no matter. I haven't spent the past decade rotting in Calcutta, whatever you may have been led to believe. Raj and I are partners in a very profitable shipping business, and I have more than enough brass to see me through the next several years without ever touching a farthing of Frederick's money."

"Do you mean you are a nabob?" she asked slowly, absorbing the implications of this startling development with shock.

"Well, not a nabob, perhaps," Joss corrected, having had firsthand experience of how much wealth a nabob commanded. "But I have done rather well for myself. We are even speaking of expanding our business, now that this blasted war is finally over. Raj has friends in Plymouth who are said to build the fastest packets in the world, and — "

"But this is beyond wonderful!" Matty cried, clapping her hands together as she leapt to her feet. "This will make everything so much easier!"

"So I should hope," Joss said, amused by her obvious glee. "Did you think I meant to bleed the estate dry and then slip off?"

"Oh no! Such a possibility never crossed my mind. At least not once I got to know you," she amended, with candid honesty. "But that you actually have a fortune . . . this is some
thing I hadn't counted upon. I see I shall have to adjust my original plans."

"And what plans might those be?" Joss asked indulgently.

Matty gave him an innocent smile. "Why, the plans to choose your bride for you, of course," she said as if to a child. "Do you think you might arrange for the ceremony to take place before August? It will make it so much easier for everyone if we can have you safely shackled by harvest time."

Chapter Six

Joss stared at Miss Stone as if he hadn't heard right. "I beg your pardon?"

"I must admit, I was concerned about the bride's dowry," Matty continued, too happy to note the stunned look on the marquess's face. "But now that I know you are wealthy we needn't bother with such details. You may marry whomever you like."

"So long as I do it by the harvest," Joss said, struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"That would be ideal, certainly." Matty sat down at her desk and began rifling through the papers. "Although I suppose we could wait until the holidays if you prefer. Christmas weddings are delightful, even if one must fret over the weather. Now, where did I put that . . . ah, here it is." She extracted a piece of paper from beneath the pile on her desk and handed it to him.

He accepted it, too bemused to do otherwise. "What is it?"

"A list of your prospective brides," she said, leaning forward to indicate the first name. "As you can see, I have ranked them by title and possible dowry, as well as by their suitability. Unfortunately I've never met any of these ladies, so I can not vouch for their appearance, but I — "

"My God, you're serious!" Joss raised his eyes to study her face. "You really do mean to choose my bride for me!"

Matty's happy smile slowly faded. "Perhaps 'choose' is the wrong word," she replied carefully, realizing for the first time that he was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of marriage. "Naturally the final choice must be yours. But — "

"Well, thank heaven for that!" he exclaimed, glowering at her. "From the way you were talking I was beginning to wonder if you meant to sell me off to the highest bidder!"

"But I have helped simplify things by presenting the most likely candidates for your consideration," she concluded, ignoring his outburst with studied patience. "You have been out of the country for several years, and will have few friends in the marriage mart. I was but attempting to help, my lord."

"
Help?
" Joss gave a strangled laugh, still too
amazed to be angry. "Is that the word for it? You drug me, kidnap me, presume to lecture me on my responsibilities, and now you are set on deciding not only whom I shall marry, but when. And you have the audacity to claim you only want to
help?
" He shook his head. "I will say one thing for you, Miss Stone: you certainly don't lack for nerve."

Matty's cheeks flamed at the censure in his voice. It was obvious she'd handled the situation entirely wrong — a realization that added to her annoyance. She was accustomed to doing things just so, and she didn't like knowing that she'd bungled so badly. Drawing her shoulders back, she decided there was nothing left for her to do but brazen out the situation.

"Thank you," she said, inclining her head in mock respect. "I am pleased you approve."

Joss glared at her, his eyes frosting with displeasure. "You have a very erroneous opinion of my character, madam, if you think I will allow myself to be led where I would not go. When I marry
. . . if
I marry, it will be to a bride of my own choosing. Do you understand me?"

His cold, cutting tones made Matty long to box his ears. "Yes, your lordship," she said stiffly, hating him for his arrogance. "I do."

"Do you believe me?"

She grew even redder. "Yes."

"Then we don't have a problem, do we?" He gave her a silky smile that made her grit her teeth.

"No, my lord," she said, her voice tight with resentment. "We do not."

"Good." He allowed himself a satisfied nod as he tossed the list back on her desk. "I'll arrange for funds to be paid into the household accounts so that you can pay the servants. See that you begin with yourself." And with that last bit of imperiousness, he turned and left the room.

Louisa glanced surreptitiously first over one shoulder and then over the other before slipping into the library. She'd done it, she thought, her shoulders slumping with relief as she pressed her back against the closed door. She'd managed to sneak away from the study before either Stone or Joss discovered her listening at the keyhole like some silly parlor maid. Not that she'd been eavesdropping, mind, she assured herself, walking away from the library door. She'd been walking down the hall when the sound of raised voices had caught her attention, and naturally she had paused to investigate. But she was
not
eavesdropping.

How could Stone have been so foolish as to
confess all to Joss? she wondered, her golden brows meeting in a frown as she began to pace the room. Of
course
he would object to having a bride procured for him — what man would not? Now it would be left to her to salvage the situation, although how she was to accomplish this task she was sure she did not know. She'd have to be cautious, of course, and extremely discreet. Perhaps she could . . . her thoughts skittered to a halt as a dark shape detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of her.

"Oh!"

"My apologies, Lady Kirkswood," Raj said quietly, his blue eyes guarded as he bowed to the marchioness. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

A relieved smile settled on Louisa's lips as her heart slowed to its usual rhythm. "You didn't frighten me, Mr. Fitzsimmons," she assured him gently, "although I do own you startled me. I didn't see you standing there when I first came in."

"I was sitting over there." Raj nodded at the huge red leather chair before the fireplace. "Joss suggested I make use of his library while I was here, and I was renewing my acquaintance with Milton. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Louisa hid her surprise that such a handsome, vital young man should enjoy
reading anything so dusty and dull as Milton. "In fact, I hope you feel free to borrow what you please while you are our guest."

"That is most gracious of you, my lady, considering I foisted myself upon you without invitation," Raj said, referring for the first time to the unconventional series of events that had brought him to Kirkswood.

But if he meant to discomfit her, he was soon disappointed, for she gave a musical laugh. "That is so, sir, but under the circumstances I am prepared to overlook your behavior," she said, her blue eyes sparkling. "And might I say how I admire your daring in riding to my brother-in-law's rescue? It was most brave of you, considering you had no idea who had taken him."

"Actually, by the third or fourth stop I had a fair notion as to who might be holding him," Raj confessed, surprised to find he was enjoying himself. Until now he'd regarded his hostess as he might a beautiful but fragile doll, and he found this unexpected side of her intriguing.

"Really? And how did you accomplish that?" Louisa was genuinely curious. "Stone was sure she'd covered her tracks."

"And so she did. But it is amazing what information a man will provide when a loaded pistol is pressed against his head."

The offhanded words made Louisa's smile
fade. "You — you held a pistol on a man?" she asked, her hands fluttering to her throat.

"My friend had been kidnapped," Raj said, a hint of the dark anger that had consumed him upon learning Joss had been taken stealing into his deep voice. "I was prepared to do whatever was necessary to get him safely back."

Louisa considered that for a long moment. "You must be very good friends," she said at last.

"We are."

"Good." She gave him a thoughtful smile. "He seems so . . . so solitary at times, so alone. I am glad he has someone like you."

Raj gave her a long look. "You don't mind that I am not white?" he asked bluntly.

"My heavens, no!" Louisa exclaimed indignantly. "How can you ask such a thing?"

Raj's shrug bespoke a lifetime of slights and snubs. "Most people would find it more than passing strange that an English lord would choose to associate with a half-breed."

"To quote Stone, most people are dim-witted fools!" Louisa snapped, her lovely mouth firming with displeasure. "I assure you, Mr. Fitzsimmons, that neither my companion nor I give a feather for such considerations. It is obvious you are Joss's good and true friend, and that is all that matters."

"You sound as if you really mean that." Raj
was both surprised and pleased by her vehemence.

"I do," Louisa said, scowling up into his saturnine features. "You will always be welcome in my house."

Raj tried to remember the last time he'd heard such a sentiment expressed, and realized he never had. Always, he had been the outsider, tolerated rather than welcomed, his mixed blood putting a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. Except with Joss, he amended — and now, it would seem, with Joss's family. He gave her a low bow, hiding his emotions behind a polished smile.

"Your ladyship is far too kind," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers, "and I thank you for your generosity. I shall do my best not to abuse your hospitality."

Louisa studied him closely, sensing the pain behind his dazzling smile. He reminded her very much of her difficult brother-in-law, she decided, thinking of the anger and hurt she'd seen in Joss's sage-colored eyes. Perhaps, like Joss, all that Mr. Fitzsimmons required was knowing someone cared. And she did care, she realized with something akin to surprise. She found she cared very much.

Matty spent the rest of the afternoon brood
ing over her confrontation with the marquess. Looking at it rationally, she supposed she could understand his objections to her scheme, although she still felt he was being unforgivably stubborn. Any fool could see he needed a bride, and she thought it most unfair that the estate should suffer because of his arrogant pride. There had to be some way she could force him to see reason, she thought, drumming her fingers on her desk. But how?

She was still stewing over the possibilities when Lady Louisa came into her study, dressed in a simple gown of gray crepe trimmed with black ribbons. "Good afternoon, Stone," she said, bestowing a sweet smile on Matty. "I thought I would find you here. Still hard at work, I see."

Matty, who hadn't accomplished even half the tasks she'd set for herself, blushed guiltily. "I am almost finished, my lady," she said, not quite able to meet her employer's eye. "Was there something you wished?"

"Only to see how your search for the bride is progressing," she replied, settling her skirts about her as she took her seat. "Have you narrowed the prospects to a manageable number, or shall we be inviting half the
ton
to call upon us?"

Matty's flush deepened. "Actually, I am afraid there is a slight problem," she said, feel
ing like the worst traitor alive.

"A problem?" The marchioness's brows gathered in a delicate frown.

"Yes," Matty admitted, fighting the urge to crawl under her desk. "Lord Kirkswood learned of my plans, and he has adamantly refused to have any part of them. In fact, he ordered me to drop the matter altogether."

"But that is impossible!" Lady Kirkswood cried, clearly distressed. "How could he have learned of our scheme?"

"Because I told him," Matty admitted, hanging her head in shame as she related the afternoon's events. She glanced up when she was finished, and to her dismay she saw the marchioness holding a handkerchief to tear-filled eyes.

"Then you mean we can not invite even a single guest?" she asked, her voice quavering with unhappiness. "But — but I was so looking forward to having company again."

The sight of tears on Lady Louisa's face filled Matty with protective fury. Cursing his lordship for his selfish nature, she rushed around her desk to soothe her employer as best she could. "Of course you may have company," she said fiercely, slipping a comforting arm about her shoulders. "You are the marchioness of Kirkswood, and you are free to ask whomever you please to call upon
you."

"But you just said Joss forbade you to invite anyone," Lady Louisa sniffed, dabbing her eyes with the crumpled handkerchief. "I don't wish there to be harsh feelings between the two of you, and if this is going to cause any unpleasantness it might be best if we let the matter drop. If I am so desperate for company I suppose I could always go to London — with Joss's permission, of course," she added with a brave smile.