Page 1 of The Duke's Match
CHAPTERONE
“One day, you willhaveto tell me where you find the funds for your infamous parties,” Anna said, laughing as she sipped her lukewarm tea.
She and the Countess of Grayling had gotten so lost in their conversation, that she had quite forgotten to drink the tea before it cooled. A common problem when she met with the countess for one of their fortnightly afternoons. A woman of many names—the Countess of Grayling, the Sorceress, the Silver Widow, the Cunning Countess—but Anna knew her simply as Beatrice: friend, mentor, and fount of all society knowledge.
Beatrice chuckled and tapped the side of her nose. “I could not possibly. I trust the vault of your loyalty entirely, dearest Anna, but once a secret is shared it is no longer a secret. It amuses me to keep people guessing.” She hesitated, flashing one of her delightfully wicked grins. “But I shall tell you this—it is a far duller secret than anyone suspects.”
“I shall not relent until I find out.” Anna smiled, taking a bite of a lemon cake. “But speaking of dull, did you see that dear Lady Emily has found a husband at last?”
Beatrice gasped, scandalized. “I am surprised at you, Anna, calling a poor soul like Lady Emily ‘dull.’ It is most unbecoming.”
“No, no, that is not what I meant!” Anna’s hand flew to her chest, a ripple of horror running through her. “I meant, because you find talk of marriage and engagements so dull. Goodness, I would never call a fellow woman something so unkind!”
Beatrice smiled and reached over to pat Anna on the arm. “I was only teasing, dear friend. That was unkind ofme.”
“I doubt I shall ever grow accustomed to your sense of humor.” Anna relaxed, her heart returning to a more ordinary beat.
She would have insulted herself before she insulted another woman, especially one who had, until recently, been in her position of spinsterhood. Indeed, she knew better than anyone what it was like to be a wallflower of society. Worse, an unmarriageable. At six-and-twenty, she was well beyond the age of being anyone’s first choice, and as the years had gone on, she had come to confirm what she had long suspected—that she would never be anyone’s choice, first or last, or anything in-between.
Beatrice insisted that it was a liberating situation, but her situation was not the same as Anna’s. For one thing, Beatrice was twenty years her senior, though she did not look it. For another, Beatricehadbeen married, and when her old, cruel, vile husband had died, she had petitioned the Royal Court to gain the title of Countess of Grayling in her own right. How she had managed it was another secret that no one knew the answer to, though Anna hoped that she might be privy to that information one day. Not that it would change anything for her.
“What manner of husband has Lady Emily found for herself?” Beatrice prompted.
Anna smiled. “A fine gentleman. The Viscount Marchmont. They were friends in their youth, but the Viscount married another. He had been a widower for some years when he happened to meet Lady Emily again, just three months ago. At one of your balls, in truth. It was love at second meeting! I received an invitation to their wedding this morning.”
“And Lady Emily has never been married?”
Anna shook her head. “She is rather like me, I suspect.”
“This has been happening rather a lot of late, do you not think?” Beatrice toyed with the pearls at her throat, deep in thought. “In the past year alone, I have read of countless matches that have seemingly emerged from nowhere. Yes, I remember reading an article about it.”
She twisted on the drawing room settee, sifting through a small pile of papers on the table beside her. She plucked the telltale rectangle of the scandal sheets from the stack and smoothed it out on her lap, eyes darting left and right as she skimmed the words for what she was looking for.
“Here it is!” She passed the sheets to Anna. “What do you make of that?”
It was a short half-page regarding a mysterious figure called ‘The Matchmaker’ who had worked miracles for the ladies of theton, particularly those who might otherwise have been overlooked:
Nobody knows their identity, but for the past two seasons, she has brought hope to the hopeless, marriage to the unmarriageable, and salvation to countless spinsters. It is said that you cannot go to this mystery Cupid, but they will come to you in your hour of greatest need, in the form of letters suggesting one’s ideal match and signed ‘The Matchmaker.’ All you need do is give consent to proceed, and wedding bells will soon be tolling!
Anna’s eyes widened, her heart swelling in her chest. “I think one would have to ask Lady Emily if her impending marriage is a result of ‘The Matchmaker.’ Perhaps, she has been told not to say.”
“I should like to meet her. The Matchmaker, I mean,” Beatrice said.
Anna raised an eyebrow. “You are reconsidering your position?”
“Mercy, no!” Beatrice burst out laughing. “However, I am intrigued by such a woman. Her rate of success is unheard of. Famous matchmakers have come and gone, but I have never seen anything like this.”
Anna tilted her head, rereading the article to see if she had missed something. “What makes you certain it is a woman?”
“Only a woman would do this for the women that society has cast aside,” Beatrice replied solemnly. “A man would say, ‘Hard luck, ladies’ and concentrate on pairing the debutantes and beauties with sickeningly wealthy old men. A man would work for the benefit of the men, not the women.”
Anna could see the wisdom, and no small amount of the resentment, in her friend’s words. Beatrice spoke very rarely of her time as a married woman, and everything she had done since her husband’s death had been an act of powerful defiance, no doubt partially driven by her desire to make her husband turn in his grave. At least, to begin with. And, sometimes, doing good deeds and inspiring things had no choice but to come from the darkest of places.
“I do wish she would hurry along and findmea match, then,” Anna said with a sigh, passing back the fortnight-old scandal sheets. “Although, I assume there is a rather long list, and I am nowhere near the top of it.”
A sad smile graced Beatrice’s lips. “Icould find you a husband, if you would but ask me. I judge no one, dearest Anna. You know already that my own experience does not mean I am against the institution of marriage, and among your friends, I have seen some of the happiest examples of what marriageshouldbe. An act of love. A promise of the heart, not the coffers.”
Anna’s own heart flinched a little, as it still did every time she thought of her beloved friends and their blissful unions. It had been several years since ‘The Spinsters’ Club’ had all actually been spinsters, and when Olivia, Leah, and Phoebe had found love, she had been overjoyed, championing their pursuit of romance with everything she possessed.
