Page 2 of The Matchmaker Meets her Duke
“Not applicable to me. Surely your mistress would jump at the chance of making a match for me?”
“A match?” the butler’s throat bulged as he swallowed, and he turned with a bow. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, enter.” Emmett snagged his card from the tray as he passed. Hardly good etiquette, but he did want to remain unknown. His reputation had a habit of proceeding him, thanks to Lady Pandora.
Lady Pandora. She was a mystery. The only sister of the Earl of Danvers, she had a nasty habit of interfering with the affairs of others with these ridiculous parties of hers. He hadn’t been able to find much information about her personally, just enough to satisfy his hunch. She was‘Lady Datura’, she had to be.
The ballroom of Ravenswood Manor was small but well-appointed. Mirrored chandeliers reflected candlelight around the room, and swags of deep-orange fabric adorned the walls, making the room seem like the center of a piece of amber. A servant passed with a tray of wine, and he snagged a glass to drink as he hunted his quarry. It was a decent vintage, not overly fruity. Simple. Had she chosen it herself, or had the butler made that decision? It was good, in any case.
He nodded to those few he knew in the crowd but didn’t pause for conversation. Eyes passed over him, mothers evaluating the cut of his clothing as heartlessly as any merchant. Young women tried to catch his eye, fluttering their eyelashes, and it took an effort not to curl his lip.
Whoever would willingly attend one of these matching parties had to be a madman, or in such dire need of a wife that his senses had left him. Neither of which described him. A full circle of the ballroom later, and he stopped near the door to the gardens, clutching his empty wine glass with white knuckles.
Lady Pandora wasn’t here.
ChapterTwo
Pandora Ravenswood paced across the carpet of her bedchamber, biting a nail. “Something awful is going to happen, I just know it.”
Her brother Edward raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Have you decided to become a fortune teller on top of being a matchmaker? And stop biting your nails, it's a filthy habit.”
Pandora glared over her fingers and bit down on her thumb nail. “If Mary wasn’t able to get me to stop, I doubt you can.”
“Ah, but certainly I’m more charming than your old governess. I don’t dribble my soup, for one thing.”
“She was missing teeth, it wasn’t her fault. And Mary was a darling, I won’t hear a word against her.”
Edward sat up from the cushioned bench at her window. “You are avoiding the topic. Why aren’t you downstairs among your guests? And why on Earth did you invite me? You know I don’t intend to marry.”
“Marriage would look good on you,” said Pandora as she resumed pacing. “And I want your support. My matchmaking, I worry about it. I want to help young women find a good match, but my last two pairings despised each other! I fear I am losing my touch.”
Edward stood and crossed over to hold her hands. “Pandora, you’ve helped nearly a score of ladies find solid matches, and I’m sure there will be a score more before the Season is out. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Remember what our aunt always said, ‘A failure or two hardly defines you.’ Life requires risk, she knew that, and so do you.”
Pandora flinched and pulled her hands from his grasp. “I know, but–”
“But nothing.” Edward pulled her into a hug, careful not to rest his head against her carefully arranged curls. “You are a kind, generous woman, and I’m sure God will watch over you.”
“Of course, you would say that you're not the one whose reputation is on the line,” muttered Pandora into his waistcoat.
“Quite the contrary. Until you marry, my name is your name. What you do here reflects on me.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Which is why I adore you. You shine a light on the Ravenswood name.”
Pandora sighed and relaxed into her brother’s embrace. “You always know the right thing to say.”
A knock sounded at the door, and the butler, Warwick, poked his head in. “Apologies My Lord, My Lady, but there is a disturbance in the garden. Mr. Sinclair asks you to come at once.”
The siblings exchanged a look of concern and Edward motioned for Warwick to lead the way. Sinclair was the gardener, and was no doubt beside himself as people tramped through his precious gardens. Hopefully it was a false alarm. Pandora paused as she passed the entrance to the ballroom. She was being quite rude, ignoring her guests, but they would have to wait for later.
“Warwick, did Sinclair say anything else?” asked Edward as they hurried down a side passage to avoid the guests.
The butler shook his head. “Just that he heard a lady scream.”
“Let us pray she only saw a spider,” said Pandora. “The last thing I need is a scandal under my own roof.”
The servant’s door opened to the gardens, near the gardener’s cottage and shed. Sinclair was waiting for them, armed with a pair of hedge trimmers.
Pandora looked down at them in alarm. “Surely those won’t be necessary.”
Sinclair bowed as they approached and hid the trimmers behind his back. “I hope not, My Lady. That scream though, it sent chills right up my spine, it did.”
“And this scream, where did it come from?” asked Edward.
