Page 2 of Her Sinful Match (Lords of Pleasure 4)

“Oh, that is no rumor. Do you recall the sculpture newly purchased by Lady Devonshire? The angel in her garden?”

“I do. Was that one of his making?” Henrietta blinked, recalling the statue in question.

It was a beautiful statue. She had seen it herself in the lady’s garden but a week past—one of the first garden parties of the Season. Every fold of marble cloth and every line had been painstakingly and exquisitely chiseled, polished to a glistening luster. The face of the angel was a study in tranquility, serene and majestic and beautiful as it gazed across the expanse of the Devonshire estates, hands outstretched in welcome and protection, wings spread wide as if about to take flight, every feather arduously rendered. “It is quite a magnificent piece.”

“Isn’t it? I have heard that all his artworks, though he hasn’t made many, are the same. Beautiful, soulful. Poetry in stone.”

“That is quite a feat. I must wonder…” Henrietta trailed off.

“Henrietta!” Eva chided her softly and tapped her arm lightly in remonstrance. “You cannot simply fall silent like that. Whatever is on your mind to make you quiet?”

“Lord Salisbury has only lately returned from war, has he not? It begs the question, how does a man pass from the horrors of the battlefield, and come to create such amazing artistic works? One would think that his experiences would influence his art as much as they have apparently influenced his sociability.”

“That is true. I had not thought of that. Artists are supposed to be such sensitive creatures.” Eva furrowed her brow. “To come through the blood and ugliness of a battlefield, and yet still be able to produce such elegance...the Marquess must surely have a soul to match his fortitude in both valor and beauty.”

“He would be a rare man indeed to possess such sensitivity and courage both. A true paragon of nobility.” Henrietta considered her next move. She knew very little of the man beyond rumor, but what little she did know was quite...interesting.

“Paragon indeed. And a pity too.” Eva sighed forlornly.

“Pity? Whatever do you mean?” Henrietta regarded her friend in mild astonishment.

“Henrietta dear, a paragon the Marquess may be, but if it’s so, I think even your best efforts would be doomed to fail. Paragons are simply not the marrying sort. And if he is a paragon, and he were to choose a partner to share his life, I doubt it would be a young, lighthearted lady of the ton. Why, what could two such people ever have in common?”

“Who can say? But there’s no reason to dismiss the idea out of hand, dear Eva.” Henrietta smiled. “Love is a powerful connection. And you know quite well that I, of all people, know how to bring love to bloom between two people, dissimilar as they might seem at first.”

Eva laughed, the cheerful tones drawing the attention of other members of the ton nearby. “Why, Henrietta, surely you cannot be suggesting that you could bring the Marquess to consider matrimony, and among the members of our fair society, no less! Why, the man is near a hermit, however handsome and talented he might be. Even your prowess cannot work with a man who refuses to grace any events and has no social calendar worth mentioning!”

“Can it not? Are you truly doubting my skills as a matchmaker, Eva?” Henrietta swatted playfully at her friend with her fan in mock annoyance.

“Well, let us be realistic, my dear. There are limits to even the best matchmaker’s skills.” Eva’s smile sparkled with mischief. “You must admit that, at least.”

“I’ll admit to no such thing! Why should I admit to a defeat without even a token effort?” Henrietta tipped her head. “Why, I will wager that, should I put my mind to it, I could have the Marquess matched and married within the Season.”

“Within the Season, you say?” Eva arched one perfectly shaped brow in mild disbelief.

“Within three months.” Henrietta tossed her head and straightened her back, quite willing to defend her skills and her reputation. “I’m certain I could achieve such a feat in three months, for I’ve managed other matches in far less time.”

“Oh? And what will the forfeit be, should you fail to find the Marquess his match within three months?”

Henrietta smirked. “Why, what else should I wager? This is meant to be a test of my skills as a matchmaker, no? Why then, should I bet anything other than my ability to continue to use my skills?”

Eva blinked, sly mischief transforming to genuine surprise. “You cannot mean…”

“I can.” Henrietta stood, pitching her voice so that it would be heard by the members of the ton nearby, all of whom were trying to listen without being transparent about it. “Should I fail to match the Marquess of Salisbury within three months, I shall resign my position as a matchmaker in society—and retire from any further attempts to arrange matches of any sort.”

Ripples of sound whispered through the room, and Henrietta smiled behind her fan.

It was a bold statement, to be sure, but then...love was a power that conquered all.

And hers was a power that was well-versed in reading and manipulating the paths of love. Truth be told, she rather relished the challenge.

Now it only remained to choose the method by which she might approach this most reclusive and mysterious Marquess.

CHAPTERONE

He never would get used to the weather, nor the food. It had been four months since he had come to the Salisbury country seat to claim his inheritance and his title. And Daniel Thynne, the Marquess of Salisbury, still found it within himself to be amazed by the differences between the blood-soaked insanity of the battlefield he’d left behind and the refined, tranquil estate he currently inhabited.

“This is quite the arrangement you’ve got here.” Daniel tore his attention from his wayward thoughts and returned it to his guests.

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