To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) (11 page)

Henri clapped her hands. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had undone some of the damage that Sebastian had wrought. Sophie wasn’t frightened of going to a ball. ‘My ankle still pains me, so I shall expect a full report.’

‘Robert can’t stand simpering ninnies. And far too many women simply look into his eyes and see his bank balance. You should hear Mama on the subject.’ Sophie sucked the end of her paint brush, making it come to a point. ‘Is there any chance…of you and Robert?’

‘Put the matchmaking thoughts from your brain, Sophie. It doesn’t become you. I’ve no intention of remarrying. One does not seek to replace perfection.’ Henri knew her cheeks reddened slightly. The sooner she left, the sooner she could get back to her old life. There must a half-dozen people who needed her assistance. And when she returned to that life, all desire for Robert would vanish.

‘I think perfection must have been very difficult to live with. I know I’m far from perfect.’

‘The entire village will be expecting to see you at
the ball.’ Henri attempted to move the conversation away from the dangerous shoals of her relationship with Robert. ‘They will have been debating for hours on the nature of your dress. Miss Armstrong is sure to have worked various old ladies into a veritable frenzy with her hints and little remarks.’

‘Miss Armstrong is only being pleasant to me because Robert is unmarried. She fancies herself as Mrs Montemorcy.’ Sophie looked over both her shoulders and lowered her voice. ‘Stepmama is certain that Robert will get a title for services to industry. It is only a “matter of time”.’

‘Sophie, repeating gossip is seldom attractive.’

‘But if gossip is true, what is the harm in repeating it?’ Sophie fluffed up her curls. ‘Miss Armstrong underestimates me. She thinks because I’m only seventeen, I’m completely brainless and do not see through people. I learnt long ago to judge between the genuine and those who sought to use me. However, her excessive civility impresses Stepmama.’

Henri stared at Sophie in astonishment. Clearly there was more to Sophie than she had first considered. She might be young, but she did notice things.

‘Is there some problem?’ Robert asked, coming in. He placed his top hat down on the table. ‘Sophie, moderation. Your voice could be heard halfway to Corbridge, if not Hexham. What are you two discussing with such vigour?’

‘Henri informs me that you’d best dance with me if you want to keep speculation about my past to a minimum. I’ve been explaining why you don’t dance.’

Robert’s eyes assessed her and deepened to a molten caramel. Henri’s breath caught in her throat.

‘Does she, indeed?’ All warmth drained from his face. ‘And Henri knows best.’

The air crackled between them. Henri was the first to drop her gaze.

‘On things like this, I do,’ Henri remarked as steadily as she could. ‘I dare say that you can dance the first quadrille with your ward. It’s for Sophie’s sake, rather than mine that I ask. It’ll serve to introduce her properly to the village. Your duty, Montemorcy.’

‘And you know my duty?’

‘Yes. This dance with Sophie.’ Henri knew she lied. She wanted to dance with him and spend a few moments in his arms. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew she was correct. Robert needed to dance with his ward. He needed to lay his ghosts to rest.

He sketched a bow. ‘I’ll take the matter under consideration.’

Henri hated the way her stomach hurt and how much she wanted it to be her whom he danced with. ‘It is good to know that you will consider it.’

‘Then I am going to the ball and dancing.’ Sophie clapped her hands.

‘Henri appears determined that you will go.’

‘Sophie believes that she needs to stay here with me and I protested.’ Henri reached over and rearranged the coverlet that was protecting her skirt. ‘I believe she needs to be seen and what better way to be seen than to dance the first quadrille. If you’ll not dance with her, then you must nominate someone else. She mustn’t be a wallflower.’

‘You’ve expended considerable thought on this.’ Robert’s eyes travelled slowly down the black round gown and returned to linger on her lips.

‘Just as you are determined to have me embrace the scientific method.’ Henri gave him a hard look. ‘And Lady Winship is sure to agree about the arrangement. Miss Armstrong always muddles her figures, going to the left when she should be circling to the right.’

‘You do Miss Armstrong a disservice.’

‘I think not. I’ve seen the damage she can work on an innocent dance. Ask Lady Winship about the Harlequin incident from last autumn.’

‘Isn’t my portrait of Henri good, Robert?’ Sophie handed it to him with brilliant smile. ‘I really think I captured her. Why she’s been allowed to remain a widow all this time, I have no idea.’

‘Perhaps because I want to be one,’ Henri muttered under her breath. She could see what Sophie was attempting to do—arrange a match, despite her earlier protests. The approach was far from subtle. But, honestly, the thought of a match between her and Robert was ridiculous. Both were entirely set in their ways. Neither wanted marriage. She curled her fingers and refused to think about her intimate dreams about him or…the kiss she was supposed to forget, but kept remembering at the oddest of times. She’d never lingered over Edmund’s kisses. And now she struggled to remember a single one.

He looked at the picture and then at Henri. The furrow between his brows deepened. Henri craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of the portrait. She had seen some of Sophie’s other work and thought it quite good, in particular a portrait of Robert where his face was relaxed and smiling. There had been something about the eyes.

‘It is a passable likeness, but you have not got her mouth quite right. Thorndike’s is more bow-shaped.’

‘Just passable?’ Sophie tried to snatch the picture from his fingers but Robert held it away from her. ‘I want it to be perfect. Give me it so I can destroy it. You’re a beast, Robert.’

Robert calmly folded the portrait and put it in his frock-coat pocket. ‘I’ll keep it safe. You may draw Henri another one, one with a bit more accuracy.’

‘And I did not even get to make a judgement?’ Henri asked, putting her hand on her hip in mock indignation.

‘In my experience most women hate pictures of themselves.’ The dimple flashed at the corner of his mouth. ‘Sophie will show you when the new one is ready.’

‘Am I expected now to sit for more hours?’ Henri collapsed against the back of the chair.

‘Is that a problem?’

‘I believe I deserve a chance for fresh air before Sophie becomes a slave driver again. Is it any wonder I’m longing to dance when all I do is sit?’

‘Are you longing to dance?’ he asked, his eyes turning speculative.

‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘I adore dancing. It is one of the few bonuses of being a confirmed widow. You’re able to dance with those whom you choose. I was looking forward to the ball. It’s for the best I’m staying here as I doubt I would’ve been able to resist the temptation.’

‘We want your ankle to be completely healed before you leave here!’ Sophie cried. ‘Robert, make Henri understand. She must stay longer.’

‘There has been enough posing for today,’ Robert declared. ‘Henri can burn off some of her energy by
coming for a walk into the stable yard and you, young lady, had best get your ball gown out. You do not want to suddenly discover that you need to alter the dress, the way you did an hour before you first went to Almack’s.’

‘And it was far from my fault that the ruffle was wrongly placed on that dress.’ Sophie rushed off to her bedroom, leaving Henri with Robert. He held out his arm.

‘Is this your way of saying that I’m recovered and should consider returning to my life, despite Sophie’s desire to continue playing nursemaid?’ Henri asked in alarm as they walked out into the stable yard.

She had hated her first few days here, but she had come to enjoy the unaccustomed feeling of peace and tranquillity. And what if he did wish to be rid of her before the dinner party? What possible reason could he have for that? She tried and failed to imagine Robert and Miss Armstrong together.

Her footstep faltered. Instantly his arm came around her waist, holding her upright. Her entire being hummed from the contact. ‘Are you certain?’

‘Stiff muscles,’ she said and kept her gaze straight ahead.

‘You are looking very serious suddenly,’ he said as they made slow progress towards the stable. ‘A day or two more will hardly be a hardship. You seem to be a steadying influence on Sophie.’

Henri forced her brow to clear and her face to become a bland social smile, but her stomach knotted in disappointment. She’d half-hoped that he wanted her there for himself, but he wanted her for his ward. It was also none of her business whom Robert became involved
with. She had given such things up. She was content being a widow. And if she kept telling herself that she’d believe it. ‘I’m trying to puzzle out why I need to come to the stable yard, rather than taking a turn about the garden.’

‘There is someone I’d like you to meet, Henri. Someone who wants to apologise.’

‘Mr Teasdale wishes to apologise?’ she asked, keeping her eyes firmly down on the flag stone rather than glancing up into his face. She knew her cheeks flamed. ‘It has taken him long enough. It has been over a week.’

‘I had to wait until I could trust him, but here he is, contrite and sorry.’

Henri turned towards where Robert pointed. There in the yard stood a mastiff dog, its head tilted to one side, tail slowly wagging. Her knees turned to jelly. She reached out and clung to Robert’s arm. If she could, she’d run back to her room, but as it was she could only stand.

‘That is the dog that attacked me. Mr Teasdale’s dog. Why is he here?’

‘My dog now.’ Robert put a protective hand on her shoulder. ‘Teasdale was not a fit keeper for such a magnificent beast. It is astonishing how quickly he calmed down. All Boy wanted is a bit of care and attention.’

‘I will…I will take your word for it.’ Henri silently measured the distance between the yard and the house. If she walked very quickly, she might make it back safely. But now every waking moment would be filled with dread. ‘Was there any need for me to meet this creature? I could have happily gone for the rest of my life never encountering it again except in my nightmares! He savaged my leg!’

‘Knowing the dog better, I think he was trying to rescue you after you fell. He wanted you off that road. He saw you fall and thought to rescue you from the post-coach.’

‘He did?’ Henri didn’t attempt to hide her incredulity.

‘I thought once you’d met Boy properly, you would cease to be afraid,’ he said quietly, holding her elbow in an unrelenting grip. ‘It is no good going through life being scared—you must confront your fear head-on.’

‘And you accuse me of being high-handed!’ Henri shifted uneasily. Robert had no right to do this to her. ‘It might attack me again.’

‘I’m giving you the opportunity to overcome your fear. I don’t want you to become a prisoner in your house, afraid to go out of the house for fear of meeting a dog.’

Henri tried to ignore the perspiration breaking out on her forehead. All she could see was the dog’s jaws. It was unfair of Robert not to warn her. Now she’d have to confess about her fear and he’d laugh. ‘I am not overly fond of dogs, it’s true. Can I go back in now? It is a bit much for my ankle. It is throbbing. I think I need to sit down. Yes, that’s it. My ankle is poorly.’

‘Any dog frightens you?’ He spun her around so he was looking directly into her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? You can admit weaknesses, Henri. It means people are less likely to make mistakes and errors of judgement.’

‘It is hardly something one brings up in casual conversation.’ Henri took a steadying breath. It was far easier now that she was looking at Robert rather than at the mastiff. She had to hope that he did not think
her a complete ninny and mock her like Sebastian always did.

Haltingly, she continued, ‘I even had to get rid of the pug puppies Sebastian left the last time. They nipped and jumped up. One drew blood. And travelling up to Corbridge was a nightmare. My aunt loved them, but the thought of having a dog in the house, particularly those ones as they tended to throw up. I had to persuade Lady Winship to take them.’

‘Puppies sometimes nip if they are overexcited or not trained properly.’ His eyes shone amber, but there was only concern. ‘Is there any particular reason you don’t like dogs?’

She took a deep breath, hating how childish she was going to sound. ‘Sebastian once dared me to walk along the high ridge by the hounds when I was about ten. Sensibly I refused. He enlisted Edmund in the scheme. They both walked along the high ridge without a problem. They both kept on and on at me until I tried. I missed my step and fell in. The dogs tore at my skirt and I screamed.’ Henri bit her lip. She risked another quick glance at the dog. Instead of jumping about like he had done, the dog had settled down with its large head on its paws. ‘Sebastian thought it would be amusing to see what would happen if he left me there to fight them off alone. The more I screamed for help, the harder he laughed, and the more aggressive the dogs became. I tried to run, but one of the hounds knocked me down. Edmund rescued me when he realised that the dogs were about to tear me limb from limb. And I loved him for it.’

His face became thunderous. ‘Did they get in trouble?’

‘Sebastian swore us to secrecy. After that, Edmund decided to become my protector.’

Henri looked at her hands and waited to hear his scornful laughter. It was such an inconsequential fear. Sebastian sometimes teased her about it.

Robert continued to look at her with concern.

‘It was a long time ago,’ she said into the silence. ‘And I
do
hate still being afraid.’

‘Will you meet Boy or is it too much?’ He pointed towards the dog. ‘See, he is trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.’

Henri turned round, ready to refuse. But the dog put his paws over his nose, hiding his face. The effect was so comical that Henri struggled not to laugh.

With Robert standing next to her, the dog could hardly harm her. Henri risked a breath. She trusted Robert to look after her.