A Matchmaker's Match (13 page)

But even if someone else danced with her, which she doubted would happen given her reputation, the earl would feel no jealousy. He didn’t think of her in that way, but merely as a friend, someone safe to talk to. Someone, she thought bitterly, who would not always be throwing herself into his arms.

On the other side of the ballroom, Aunt Anna, like some giant ruffled beast, bore down on Overton. Her fan waved wildly as she gesticulated. And then she held up three gloved fingers.

That was it. Psyche thought, as a scowling Overton glanced her way. The fat was in the fire. Who would have thought that Aunt Anna would be the one to count dances?

Psyche straightened in her chair, bracing herself. Overton was crossing the dance floor toward her, determination in his gaze. From the look of him he didn’t mean to wait till the ball was over. She was in for a royal scold. And right now.

She glanced out over the room. Where was the earl when she needed him? And then she spied him, whirling in great circles around the floor, while Georgie laughed up at him, her perfect white teeth sparkling, her pink lips gently parted.

Psyche gnawed on her bottom lip. This was to add insult to injury. Not only must she bear the scolding alone, but while she was doing it the earl would be dancing and flirting with Georgie!

“Psyche!”

Overton stood before her, his face a veritable thundercloud.

She got to her feet. “Yes, cousin?”

“You--! The earl--! How could you?”

She didn’t bother to ask him what he was upset about. “We danced,” she said calmly. “It meant nothing.”

Overton did not look appeased. “Nothing, you say! Three times with the earl! Three times! It’s outrageous.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” Psyche said. “Why make such a fuss over an extra dance?”

Overton frowned. “It’s not the dance, but the fact that you defied convention. The patronesses—”

Psyche shrugged. “Some old women. Who gave them the right to make the rules?”

Overton’s face slowly turned purple. “Who?” he sputtered.

“Psyche’s right.”

She turned. The earl stood behind her, Georgie hanging on his arm.

“We give the patronesses too much power,” the earl continued with a comforting glance at Psyche. “We wanted to dance and so we did. Why should we let someone dictate to us?”

“Why indeed?” echoed Georgie, looking up at him with laughing eyes.

Overton frowned. “You’re all missing the point. By your selfish behavior you have done irreparable damage to Amanda’s reputation.” He glared at Psyche. “I am very disappointed in you.”

The earl stiffened. This had gone far enough. No one was going to treat his Psyche in this demeaning fashion. “Come now, Overton,” he said, putting iron in his voice. “That’s enough. None of this was Psyche’s fault. It was my idea, all of it.”

A flush of color stole slowly up Psyche’s cheeks, making her even more beautiful. God, how he wanted to take her in his arms, surround her with his love, keep her safe always.

Let the whole world chatter. They meant nothing to him. No one would hurt his Psyche. He wouldn’t let them.

Overton stood silent, but he seemed plainly unconvinced.

“The earl is right,” Georgie said, patting his sleeve in a possessive way and smiling at Overton. Unfortunately, since he was watching Overton, he missed Psyche’s reaction to Georgie’s ploy. “A person should be able to dance with whomever he pleases,” she declared.

“Well,” Overton conceded, appearing mollified by Georgie’s considerable charm. “Perhaps. But Mama was all distraught, making such a row and--”

“Too bad you didn’t let your mama manage
tonight,”
the earl began pointedly. “Amanda would have been quite striking in that gown of—”

Overton gulped and turned to Psyche. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair to you. You’ve worked very hard on this come-out.” He sighed. “I don’t wish to be ungrateful. I know you’ll help me find Amanda a proper husband. It’s just that sometimes Mama drives me quite mad with her plans and her complaints.”

“I understand,” Psyche said. And she actually did. She glanced at the earl, who was still wearing Georgie on his sleeve, and then back to Overton. “If you’ll excuse me, cousin, I must see to the refreshments.”

Overton nodded. “Of course.”

“Wait,” Georgie called after her. “I will come with you. It’s been a while since we had a nice chat.”

With the earl looking on, Psyche could only nod.

“The ball is going very well,” Georgie said as they moved across the floor. “You have done a really admirable job. I could never have managed such a thing. And to do so with Overton’s mama thwarting you at every turn—” She shook her golden head. “I cannot understand how you can bear to be in the same house with such a woman.”

Psyche shrugged. “You forget.
My own mama gave me a lot of practice.”

Frowning, Georgie patted her arm. “You poor dear. Well, once you get Amanda properly married you can return to Sussex.” Georgie sent her a sidelong glance. “That is what you mean to do, isn’t it?”

Psyche stared straight ahead. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, Amanda will have to marry someone ‘other than Southdon. He would not want—”

“Yes,” Psyche said, more sharply than she intended. “I know. He would not want such a child.”

Georgie nodded and rolled her eyes. “Isn’t he a fine figure of a man, though? So handsome, so charming, so—”

“The earl is a man,” Psyche said abruptly, “Like any other man.”

“Of course.” Georgie grinned. “I thought maybe you’d gotten over that Lady Bluestocking nonsense, but I see you haven’t. Really, Psyche, I’m worried about you. You need to forget that silliness and find yourself a husband.”

“I—I don’t wish to talk about it,” Psyche said firmly. “And if we’re on the subject of possible husbands, why do you treat poor Gresham so abominably? The man really admires you, you know.”

Georgie shrugged. “I can’t help what men feel for me. And tell me, why should I settle for a viscount when I can have an earl? Oh look, Lady Jersey is motioning to me. I must go.”

And she hurried away. A curse rose to Psyche’s lips, but she swallowed it. Georgie was Georgie— and there was no point in railing about it. The earl had been on the town for some time. Certainly he was conversant with all the varied traps which a single woman might lay for a man. He would not be caught unless he wished it.

The thought gave her scant comfort. He might well wish it. Georgie was beautiful—and she knew how to give a man what he wanted.

Across the room the earl was still smoothing Overton’s ruffled feathers. “You have done an admirable job with Amanda,” he said.
“Of course, she has been going about London so when people come to call she’ll be able to discuss the sights.”

Overton turned pale. “I—ah—I believe they’ve been too busy getting ready for the come-out to take in many sights.”

“Too bad,” said the earl nonchalantly. “She will be at a loss for topics of discussion. And if someone mentions the “Folly,” which will happen sooner or later since everyone is talking about it, she will appear ignorant.” He shrugged. “What a shame. I’m sure you’re too busy to bother with a chit. Perhaps she can get a husband just by her looks, though some men do require a little conversation from their wives.”

“I’m not too busy,” Overton said, pulling at his cravat. “But I don’t know where to take her. Or how to make up a party.”

The earl frowned. “Well, I did have other plans, but since you’re my friend— Well, I suppose I can help you out.”

Overton grabbed his hand. “Thank you, you’re a true friend. Shall we say tomorrow afternoon?”

“Fine,” the earl replied. “I’ll be there.” He looked out across the floor. “I say, who is that fellow dancing with Amanda now? He looks old enough to be her father.”

Overton sighed. “You’re right. I just believe I’ll have a word with him.” And off he went.

The earl smiled to himself. His plan was working. Tomorrow he’d have Psyche on his arm and—

“You look like the cat that swallowed the cream,” Georgie said, appearing at his side and grinning up at him.

“Perhaps I do.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Tell me, what did she say?”

Georgie frowned. “I tried to pump her, but Psyche’s no pea brain. She wouldn’t talk.”

His impatience was getting the better of him. “What did she say about me?”

Georgie shrugged. “She said you are a man, like any other man.”

The world seemed to darken. He was no more to her than any fool that—

“But,” Georgie continued, “you must not despair.”

“Why not?” he asked eagerly, feeling a surge of hope. “What do you know?”

Georgie grinned. “I know Psyche. She cannot fool me. She likes you.”

“But she said-”

Georgie glared at him in exasperation. “Southdon, I think love has addled your wits.”

“But--”

“Any sane woman would agree that you’re an exceptional man. Since Psyche did not agree, it’s very clear.”

He groaned. This female approach to things had no logic. “Georgie, please, have mercy on me. What is clear?”

“It’s clear she’s interested in you.”

The breath left his lungs in a great whoosh. “But how do you know—”

“I told you. I know because her disinterest is not reasonable.”

And then she smiled brightly and bounced off, leaving him to ponder the peculiarities of the female mind.

Chapter Thirteen

The next afternoon found Amanda, and Psyche, on pins and needles. To Psyche’s intense relief. Aunt Anna had gone upstairs for her customary nap still muttering about last night’s debacle.

Amanda and Psyche, dressed in their most becoming walking dresses, and with bonnets at the ready, sat in the library, trying to do embroidery. But with little success.

Amanda was too anxious to sit still and Psyche herself was fighting off an attack of nerves. She sighed, picking out another wrong stitch. There was no need to be so anxious. This excursion should go well. And she would have the earl to herself. No Georgie to flirt with him this time.

“Why don’t they come?” Amanda demanded for the hundredth time. “Whatever can be keeping them?”

Psyche, who had just been asking herself the same question, though silently, gave Amanda a sympathetic look. “Come away from the window, my dear. You simply must stop twittering about so. Overton has never liked the nervous sort.”

“Oh, I am not nervous,” Amanda chattered, wringing her handkerchief. “Not really! Not usually. Only last night, when he danced with me, I was even more certain that he is the man I wish to marry. So today is very important.”

Poor thing. Psyche could certainly commiserate with her. “Today is only one day,” Psyche reminded her. “If my cousin doesn’t notice you today, there is always tomorrow.”

Amanda frowned, turning back to peer out through the lace panels. “If he doesn’t notice me soon, I shall be on the shelf. Permanently on the shelf. Old and wrinkled and—” She turned from the window, her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, I
am
sorry. You are not old or wrinkled! But I am just such a wreck. Why can’t the man see I love him?”

Psyche sighed. “Men are not always the brightest creatures, Amanda my dear. Especially about love. Sometimes we have to help them recognize things that they ought to see for themselves.”
As the earl ought to see that I would make him a better wife than Georgie.

Amanda sighed. “I only wish to be Overton’s wife and make him happy.” She made a face. “Even if that means having his mama live with us.”

Psyche sighed, too, and then smiled. “Never mind that. For a wedding present I will give you lessons on circumventing strange relations like Overton’s mama. It can be done. It just takes some practice.”

“I shall need—” Amanda began, then at the sound of a carriage she turned to the window again. “He’s come!”

Psyche swallowed. The eager welcome on Amanda’s face was obviously for Overton. But surely the earl had come, too. He had promised. “Is my cousin alone?”

“No, no. He isn’t alone.” Amanda turned back. “The earl is with him.”

Psyche’s heart went back to beating regularly. He had come, just as he’d promised.

“And someone else,” Amanda went on. “Your friend, Lady Standish. And the Viscount Gresham.”

Psyche’s heart sank again. “You mean another carriage has arrived?”

Amanda shook her head. “No, they’re all in the earl’s landau. Oh, good, Overton is coming to the door!”

Psyche got to her feet.
Why did Georgie have to come?

Psyche followed Amanda into the foyer just as Overton entered. “There you are,” he cried, smiling at Psyche. “I told Southdon you’d be ready. Come, get your bonnets on. We’re going to see the Folly.”

Amanda, who was already tying her poke bonnet, swung around to ask, “What folly, guardian?”

Overton patted her hand and smiled at her. “It’s a new scientific museum. Just opened on Piccadilly Street.”

Amanda turned her bright blue eyes on the man and smiled sweetly. How incredible, Psyche thought, Overton couldn’t see that his ward loved him and it was so completely obvious.

“But why,” Amanda inquired, “is it called a folly?”

Overton smiled, a smile so patronizing that Psyche bristled. Whatever was wrong with him? The man needed some common sense.

And what was wrong with her? She was never this waspish. She had to stop thinking about the earl and concentrate on helping Amanda. She had come to London to help the girl, and that was what she meant to do.

“It was just lately established by Lady Elizabeth Farrington, the late Lord Farrington’s daughter,” Overton explained. “He kept a scientific cabinet—you know, a room for scientific objects—and she decided to enlarge upon it, to open a museum to display his treasures. And some things of her own finding.” He grinned cheerfully. “I understand she has quite an outstanding collection of shrunken heads.”

Amanda paled, her hands trembling at her bonnet strings. “Real shrunken heads?”

Overton nodded. “Yes, child, but you needn’t examine them if they frighten you. I’ll admit, it does sound rather grisly.”

He ushered them both out the door. “There are other things to see, many other things. But Georgie says the learned pig is the best.”