A Matchmaking Miss (7 page)

"Only if we are lucky." The sarcasm in Lady Louisa's voice escaped Matty's notice. "Now, not another word, Stone, or I will make you pour tea while Lord Dereham tells us about his latest fox hunt."

The threat had the desired effect and Matty meekly submitted to the maid's assistance. In a trice she was stripped of her dress, stuffed into her night rail, and tucked into her bed. But just as sleep was claiming her she had a last coherent thought.

"My lady?"

"Yes, Stone?" Lady Louisa paused at the door.

"We should have written to his lordship about the baby," Matty said, her eyes drifting closed. "He was horribly hurt when I told him." And in another moment she was asleep.

Lady Louisa said nothing, her hand stealing to her flat belly for a brief moment. She lingered in the doorway until she was certain Stone was sleeping, and not shamming as she had done in the past. Once she was satisfied she left orders for a warm meal to be served when Stone awoke, and made her way to her own rooms, a thoughtful expression darkening her eyes.

"Please, my lord," Linton implored, wringing his hands in obvious agitation. "You mustn't
flex your shoulders like that! This is the last jacket we have that doesn't reek of camphor."

"Blast it, man, can't you do something? I refuse to spend the rest of the evening slumped in my chair like a hunchback!" Joss snapped, glaring at his reflection. The purple satin jacket, which the little valet insisted was cut by Weston himself, fit him so tightly about the chest and shoulders that he looked like an overripe grape about to burst from its skin. The garish color also had the unfortunate effect of making his hair appear even redder than usual, and he indulged in a silent condemnation of his brother's lack of clothing sense.

"I have let out the shoulders as much as I dare, my lord," Linton sniffed, standing on tiptoe to smooth the fabric into place. "Were I to do any more, I would put the lapels at risk."

"No great loss," Joss muttered beneath his breath, relieved that the breeches, at least, had been a better fit. Had they been as tight as the jacket he would have refused to leave the room. There was no way he'd have ventured out dressed like a
cicisbeo
.

"Are you certain you don't wish to wear the waistcoat?" Linton ventured, holding the garment in his hand. " 'Twas designed to be worn with the jacket."

"I'd rather face a charging rogue elephant," came the response. Joss shuddered at the
thought of donning the vivid scarlet, yellow, and violet silk the valet was pressing on him.

Linton bit his lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "I know your lordship has eschewed the use of fobs or other adornments," he began, the reproach in his voice letting his employer know he was committing a social solecism, "but are you sure you won't even wear a single ring? The late marquess had several in his collection, and I daresay we could find something suitable."

Joss was about to curtly refuse, but he stopped. "Frederick had a jewel collection?"

"Oh, indeed, my lord," Linton said, preening with obvious pride. "A rather extensive one, in fact. Most of it is in the vault in London, but there are a few pieces here. Would you care to see them?"

"Please."

Linton was back a short while later, a square, velvet-covered box in his hands. "This is only a small sampling, mind," he warned, handing the box to Joss. "The rest, as I say, are in London, but I think you'll find these more than adequate."

Joss picked up a diamond stickpin, turning it so that the gem flashed with a rainbow of fiery colors. "I don't understand," he said, his voice tight with control as he replaced the stickpin and picked up a gold and emerald signet ring.
"I was told the estate was left all but destitute by my brother's death."

The valet flushed, hesitating even now to speak ill of his former employer. "I believe there were some . . . difficulties," he allowed delicately. "Certain economies were necessary, but I — "

"Certain economies?" Joss repeated incredulously. "I was informed that Lady Louisa was reduced to selling her own inheritance to settle the accounts!"

"Well, yes, I had heard that whispered." Linton was wringing his hands again. "But it was only to be expected. His lordship's death was so sudden, and then there was the poor wee lord — "

"Why was Lady Louisa selling
her
jewels?" Joss demanded, pulling out a handful of fobs and shaking them at the valet. "Why weren't these sold to cover my brother's debts?"

"Because they were entailed," Linton answered, staring at Joss as if he'd gone mad. "Her ladyship couldn't so much as touch them without your permission."

"Curse the entailment, and curse that fool of a solicitor as well!" Joss snapped, tossing the jewels back into the case as if they were no more than trinkets. "What about common sense, for God's sake? Did they expect her ladyship to starve?"

"I am sure I do not know, my lord," Linton replied, his voice quavering as he clutched the jewel case to his chest. "What shall I do with these?"

Joss gave the case a bitter look. "Sell them," he ordered curtly, ignoring the valet's cry of horror as he turned and left the dressing room.

His plans to confront Miss Stone with this new information went awry when he was told she had retired to her rooms for the day. Even though the delay was annoying, he wasn't about to order her to be disturbed. He remembered how exhausted she had looked, and was grateful she'd decided to be sensible. Instead he went down to the parlor, hoping for a private word with his sister-in-law, but found Raj had arrived ahead of him. Hiding his disappointment he settled in one of the gilded chairs set in front of the fireplace and accepted the cup of tea the marchioness urged upon him.

"Lady Louisa was just telling me of your neighbor," Raj said, hiding a smile at the sight of Joss in the ill-fitting jacket. "Do you remember him?"

"Vaguely," Joss admitted, dredging up the memory of a red-faced, blustering man in a hunting jacket. "He is rather fond of hunting, isn't he?"

"Mad for it," Lady Louisa replied, with a pretty grimace. "He and Stone have almost come to blows over it a number of times."

"Indeed?" Joss wasn't in the least surprised to learn that his sister's companion would go head to head with the bullying duke. "I take it she objected to his hunting a poor defenseless fox?"

"More like she objected to his taking fifteen horses and a pack of vicious hounds through our sheep pasture," Lady Louisa said, bristling at the memory. "It was lambing season, and we lost five lambs and two ewes. Stone was furious, and I cannot say that I blame her."

"When was this?" Joss asked, his amusement vanishing.

"Last year." Lady Louisa smiled. "It is probably just as well she is indisposed, else I fear there would be no keeping them from each other's throats. The last time they tangled he threatened to horsewhip her."

Joss's cup rattled in his saucer. "He did
what?
"

"Well, she was holding a gun on him at the time, so I suppose he might be forgiven for losing his temper. He'd just taken his horse through a newly plowed field," she added, in a polite aside to Raj.

"I see I shall have to have a word with His Grace," Joss said through clenched teeth. "I must make it plain to him that I'll not tolerate
such trespasses in the future."

Having accomplished that goal, Lady Louisa set out to achieve the next. "Thank you, my lord; I am sure you know what is best," she said, bestowing a sweet smile on Joss as she raised her cup to her lips. "You might also wish to have a word with the vicar. He has stopped calling on our tenants, and Stone is most vexed."

"Why?"

"Why has he stopped calling, or why is Stone vexed?"

Joss lifted his hand to rub his temple. "Both, I suppose," he said with a heavy sigh, wondering what the devil he was getting himself into. Things were more complicated than he had first anticipated, and he was beginning to feel trapped.

"The Reverend Mr. Thorntyn feels that as there's no marquess of Kirkswood to instruct him, his obligation to the estate is at an end," Lady Louisa explained, mentally crossing her fingers as she embellished the excuse the vicar had offered when she quizzed him on the matter. "And Stone is angry because when he refused to officiate at the burial of one of our tenants, we had to send to Norwich for a vicar. It was most unfortunate."

"I can imagine." Joss rubbed his head again. "Very well, I shall call on him tomorrow and be
sure he better understands the situation. Is the living at Kirkswood still ours to give?"

"Yes, my lord, it is," Lady Louisa took another sip of tea. "Did I tell you about our physician, Dr. Noble? A rather unpleasant man, I fear, whose name does not reflect his nature."

By the time the visitors arrived, Joss had agreed to dismiss the doctor, dig a well, and look into the matter of acquiring a schoolmaster for the village children. He didn't know how this had come to pass, and he was still struggling to understand when the duke and his daughter were escorted into the parlor.

His Grace, Henry, Duke of Dereham, was much as Joss remembered, if a little older and a great deal fatter. His daughter, Lady Bettina, was another matter, and Joss studied the stunning brunette with obvious admiration.

"Where's that companion of yours?" the duke demanded, once the formalities had been dispensed with. "Finally given her the boot, what?"

"Miss Stone is resting, your grace." Lady Louisa's voice was formal. "I shall tell her you enquired after her."

"Upstart she-devil." The duke was impervious to the irony in the marchioness's voice. "Mean to have a word with you about the creature, Kirkswood. You'd not believe what has transpired in your absence."

"So I have been informed." Joss tore his eyes from Lady Bettina's dazzling beauty long enough to give her father a cold smile. "And I, too, have been meaning to have a word with you."

"Are you an Indian, Mr. Fitzsimmons?" Lady Bettina was not so immune to undercurrents as her father, and wanted to change the subject. "You will forgive me for saying so, sir, but you don't look English."

"My father was the younger son of an Irish squire, and my mother was a half-caste," Raj answered, his blue eyes cool. "I am not sure, precisely, what that makes me."

"A man too handsome to be trusted with the ladies, I am sure," Lady Louisa said with a teasing smile. "We had best warn all the local lovelies to guard their hearts, Lady Bettina, do you not agree?"

"If you say so, Louisa." As the daughter of a duke, Bettina saw no reason why she should extend the daughter of an earl the courtesy of addressing her by her title. She had bigger fish to fry at the moment, and her rain-gray eyes settled on the marquess with cool calculation.

"I am not certain if you remember me, my lord," she said, her full lips curving in an intimate smile. "I was still in the schoolroom when you set out on your grand adventure."

So that was the way it would be, Joss
thought, his eyes narrowing with cynicism. When he was just the second son it was known he'd been shipped off to India to avoid inconveniencing his family. Now that he was the marquess his exile was magically transformed into "an adventure."

"I recall a dirty-faced brat with big gray eyes," he said, although in truth he recalled no such thing. "Never say that troublesome little hoyden was you, my lady?"

Lady Bettina was torn between fury at hearing herself described as "a dirty-faced brat" and annoyance that the marquess didn't remember her. Deciding she'd rather be a brat than ignored, she dredged up an enticing pout. "I'd hardly refer to myself as a brat, my lord," she reproved, tapping him lightly on the arm. "But I suppose to a man in his twenties a girl scarce ten would rate as naught but a nuisance."

"But such a charming nuisance," Joss drawled, electing to take pity on the vixen. "But I knew even then you would doubtlessly grow into a beauty. That is the way with dirty-faced brats, is it not, Raj?" He gave his friend a wide smile.

Raj returned the smile. "I have often found it so, my lord," he intoned gravely, relieved that Joss hadn't been misled by the lady's charms. For all her beauty she reminded him of a hooded cobra, spectacular but deadly, and he
distrusted her on sight.

The next hour passed in a pleasant enough fashion, although Joss wasn't in the least bit sorry when the duke rose to take his leave. "You'll have to come and inspect my stables, sir," he informed Joss in his hearty manner. "Those hayburners of yours would be better shot than ridden, if you want my opinion of it. Pity your brother had to sell off his hunters, but that's the way of it. Debts of honor, and all that."

"Of course." Miss Stone hadn't specifically mentioned gaming debts, but he wasn't surprised to hear Frederick had incurred them. Before Joss's banishment to India, he had often heard his brother and father quarreling over the matter.

He managed to avoid committing himself to a specific social call, although he still intended speaking to the duke about his tendency to make free with Kirkswood land. He flirted enough with Lady Bettina to keep her happy, and ignored her heavy hints that she would be happy to reacquaint him with his neighbors. The moment the door closed behind their guests he relaxed his shoulders, causing the material of his jacket to split.

"Blast!" He glared at the rip beneath his arm in annoyance. "Now I shall have to put on another jacket. Have my trunks arrived, Lady
Louisa?"

"What?" She blinked at him in confusion, and then said. "Oh, yes, my lord. Kingsley took me aside just as I was coming downstairs and told me they'd just been delivered. Yours too, Mr. Fitzsimmons." she gave Raj a distracted smile. "I'm sure they will have been unpacked by now."

"Thank God for that," Joss grumbled, already starting for the door. "Raj, are you coming?"

"In a moment." Raj had arisen, but was studying Lady Louisa with a worried frown. "My lady, is all well?"

His sharpness took Lady Louisa by surprise, but she quickly hid her discomfiture behind another smile. "All is fine, Mr. Fitzsimmons, I thank you," she said, her voice firm. "Will you require the services of a valet now that your luggage is here?"