Let Love Find You (3 page)

“You’re bored already this Season, aren’t you?” Alice said as she stood behind her.

Amanda frowned as she met the maid’s eyes in the mirror. Was the problem that simple? Bored all day long, and then when she finally had something to do in the evenings, she was so pleased she overreacted, behaving a bit more effervescently than she ought to?

She didn’t try to deny it. “It’s different here, not a’tall like at home in the country, where I’ve got so much to occupy me.”

“Your aunt made a suggestion the other day. Why didn’t you agree?”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Help with that sewing class her friend started? I love needlepoint, but not enough to teach it to little girls who’d rather be out fishing.”

Alice couldn’t hold back her laughter. “I really don’t think most little girls have fishing on their minds like
you
used to. But you should find something to do while we’re in London instead of counting the minutes until the next party. Going from utter boredom to utter excitement isn’t a good balance under any circumstances.”

Amanda managed
not
to sigh again, but of course she was ready to leave the house and was already beginning to feel the excitement. Tonight could be the night she met her future
husband. Well, it
could
happen. So she merely nodded to her maid and decided that thinking up a project to occupy her during the day could wait until tomorrow when she felt bored again.

She had to admit she was nicely decked out for not one but two parties tonight. Amanda did one last twirl in front of the full-length mirror to make sure nothing was out of place. It wasn’t. Her maid was superb in that regard. The pale pink of the new evening gown highly suited her and was perfect for her mother’s rubies at her neck and ears.

She didn’t look any different from how she had during her first Season, when she’d thought she’d be the first among her friends to get engaged and she hadn’t ended up engaged a’tall.
Let love find you, it will, you know,
Ophelia had assured her. Yes, but when? How long was she supposed to wait for that magical moment to happen?

Amanda went downstairs to see if her cousin Avery had arrived yet. The second of Aunt Julie’s three sons, Avery had his own flat in London now, but Amanda had sent him a note in the afternoon, informing him that she was in need of a chaperone tonight, since Aunt Julie’s oldest son, Rupert, and his new bride, Rebecca, hadn’t yet returned from Norford as Amanda had hoped they would. And Aunt Julie’s third son, Owen, was too young at sixteen to be anyone’s escort.

Amanda had stayed at the St. John household last year for the Season as well, since her father didn’t own a town house in London. And she could depend on two of her St. John cousins as well as their mother to serve as her escorts, even if none of them were ideal. But now her old friend Rebecca Marshall was part of the household, too, having recently married Rupert St. John, and
she
was ideal.

Amanda had been delighted by the news of Rebecca and Rupert’s marriage. Rebecca would make a perfect chaperone because Amanda could actually have fun with her. But Becky had surprised Amanda by flatly refusing at first, claiming it didn’t seem right because she was several years younger than Amanda. But Amanda’s stubbornness had kicked in—she could be quite tenacious without even realizing it—and she’d convinced Becky to agree. But then Becky had hied off to the country without a by-your-leave, putting Amanda back at square one with her old choices.

She so hoped her old friend had returned by now. She wasn’t worried that Rupert would want to tag along. He’d had his fill of balls and parties. He’d been Amanda’s escort in the past and never failed to cause a stir, as handsome and flirtatious as he was, which tended to make every other gentleman present quite jealous, and jealous men didn’t want to dance. That was why she only asked Rupert to chaperone her as a last resort.

His mother, Julie, was just as bad! She’d raised her three boys on her own after her husband, the last Marquis of Rochwood, had died, and she tried to be both mother and father to them, which, unfortunately, had turned her into somewhat of a bully. As Amanda had told Rebecca recently when she’d been trying to talk her into being her chaperone, “While Aunt Julie will agree to accompany me to parties, she’ll also spend the entire night grumbling. And believe me, there aren’t very many men who don’t quickly retreat after receiving one of her scowls.”

Rebecca had made a good point though: if Amanda’s beaus could so easily be intimidated by her aunt, then they weren’t for her. Amanda had to admit she’d been glad when a few of the more obnoxious ones had been scared off by Aunt Julie.

Amanda had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when
her steps slowed. She wondered if Avery had arrived yet. While he never minded escorting her—at least he never complained about it—he usually had to cancel his own plans to do so, which made her feel bad. Occasionally, he wasn’t available because he was out of town.

She supposed she should have waited to dress for the evening until she had received confirmation that he was coming. Now she started to panic. Aunt Julie would be furious if she had to dress at the last minute to join her. But Amanda had already canceled two engagements because of Becky’s absence. She simply couldn’t cancel the two tonight, not when one party was being given by one of her closer friends, and the other by her sister-in-law, so Amanda had decided to attend them both—but not without an escort!

It wasn’t Avery who appeared in the parlor doorway, drawn out by her loud sigh, but the man standing before her made her forget every one of her woes.

“Father!” She flew into Preston Locke’s open arms. “What are
you
doing here? You never come to London except on business.”

He gave her a brief hug before he set her back to explain, “I consider this business, family business. I came to find out what your cousin Rupert was doing here while his new bride was in Norford. You do know they didn’t even bother to inform me of their marriage?”

Amanda winced for her cousin’s sake. Her brother, Rafe, had done the same thing, married Ophelia Reid on the fly, as it were, without telling the family first, and their father had been quite put out about it.

“Well, that would explain why Rue left so suddenly today,” Amanda said, giving her father a knowing grin. She could just imagine how that conversation between annoyed uncle and
admonished nephew had gone. “So he’ll be bringing Becky back to London, d’you think?”

“I would imagine.”

“Soon, I hope? Perhaps even tonight?”

“I highly doubt it.”

Amanda sighed.

Preston chucked her chin. “What?”

“I was looking forward to having Becky as my chaperone tonight. Now I’m stuck with Avery again.”

Preston frowned thoughtfully. “Isn’t Becky a bit young for that—?”

“No, no,” Amanda quickly interrupted. “She’s
married
! You know that makes it quite acceptable.”

Preston gave her a doubtful frown, which started her squirming. He was a big man, tall, strapping. She and her brother, Rafe, both got their blond hair and blue eyes from him, though Preston had a little gray at his temples, which quite annoyed him. But he rarely lost his temper, didn’t even appear to have one. He could exert such a calming influence on friend and foe alike that it was quite difficult to maintain a temper in his presence. He didn’t argue his points, he got them across in a reasonable manner, and if he was proven wrong, he’d merely laugh about it and go on from there. The only exception was how he dealt with his siblings. Where his sisters were concerned, he enjoyed pulling their cords, was quite the tease in that regard. Her brother had gotten
that
from their father, too, much to her annoyance.

Before her father actually forbade her to rely on Rebecca as her chaperone just because she was a few years younger than Amanda, she said, “You did know that Becky was a maid of honor, right up till she married Rue? That’s where he met her,
at the palace. But having served in the royal court, she’s more a stickler for proper etiquette than anyone I know.”

“No, I didn’t know, on either count. Your aunt Julie is still your best—”

“She doesn’t like going to these parties. She’ll go, of course, but you know how she is when she doesn’t like something,” she mumbled.

Preston sighed. “I wish she had remarried instead of practicing being a curmudgeon.”

“She wishes the same thing about you,” Amanda said, then sputtered, “Not the curmudgeon part!”

Was that actually a blush climbing his cheeks? Surely not. It wasn’t as if the family didn’t know why he chose to stay single after his wife had died. He’d loved her too much. He’d preferred to honor that love and not try to replace it. Actually, she and Rafe had concluded that their father didn’t want to be disappointed in a second wife after having been so happy with the first. They could hardly disagree. They didn’t want their mother to be replaced either. But they did want their father to be happy, so if he did find someone who could make him that happy, they certainly wouldn’t object. He just wasn’t looking. He already knew all the unattached ladies at home and wasn’t interested in any of them, and he rarely came to London, where he might meet someone new.

But he was here now. She wondered . . .

“By the by, I sent Avery home,” Preston said matter-of-factly. “I’ll be your escort tonight, m’dear. I want to see for m’self the current crop of eligibles and what’s taking you so long to make up your mind.”

Although it was quite hard to utter a delighted squeal and a groan in the same breath, Amanda managed it just fine.

“T
WO PARTIES IN ONE
night, is that normal these days?” Preston asked curiously.

Raphael laughed at his father. “Is that why you and Mandy showed up so late? Went to another party first?”

Preston made a face. “Your sister insisted she couldn’t miss either one, so, yes. The other was at an old school chum’s house just down the street. Wouldn’t even call it a party, so few were in attendance.”

Raphael was keeping his father company on the edge of the large ballroom where Ophelia’s guests were gathered that evening. Thankfully, no one there was likely to recognize Preston, he so rarely came to London, and never for social events unless at the queen’s request. So they didn’t know that the Duke of Norford was present. If they did, they’d be lining up to make his acquaintance.

At least Raphael’s father was used to social gatherings in the country these days, thanks to Ophelia. Preston’s five sisters used to entertain at Norford Hall frequently, but that was so long
ago Mandy hadn’t even been born yet. And after the last of the five had married and moved elsewhere, Norford Hall remained quiet. Their mother preferred it that way, and after she died, Preston had become somewhat of a recluse. He wouldn’t even entertain for Amanda’s first come-out, had simply sent her off to London where she could be guaranteed her pick of the most eligible bachelors of the realm. It was the bane of the family that she hadn’t picked one yet.

As for his father’s curiosity, Rafe said, “No, two parties in one night isn’t normal a’tall and is probably Phelia’s fault. This party was rather impromptu. She only sent out the invitations for this one this morning.”

Preston was amazed. “And this many showed up last minute, as it were?”

Raphael chuckled. “Becoming the premier hostess in the realm used to be Ophelia’s heart’s desire. Got the idea from her mum, who thrived on entertaining.”

“Such a trifling thing.”

“Not to the ladies it isn’t!” Raphael laughed. “But she gave up that goal after we married. It was no longer the least bit important to her after Chandra was born.”

“Yet it happened anyway?”

“’Course it did, simply because of who she is. She’s too beautiful, too controversial, is still to this day talked about much more’n she ought to be, and to add to that, she’s now the daughter-in-law of the reclusive Duke of Norford.”

Preston snorted at being described that way. “How can I be reclusive when Ophelia entertains so much at Norford Hall every time you two stay with me?”

Raphael said, “Yes, but she only invites the neighbors in the country, no one you don’t already know. Here in London is
quite a different matter, and I can’t count how many strangers show up here because she doesn’t just invite friends and mere acquaintances, but also anyone she finds interesting, anyone the
ton
finds interesting, and of course the current crop of debutantes to help their cause.”

Preston frowned. “She hasn’t taken up matchmaking, has she?”

“No, of course not, she leaves that to the old dames, like those two over there, Gertrude Allen and Mabel Collicott.” Raphael nodded toward the two oldest women in the room, across from them. “Look at them, you can just hear the wheels turning in their heads, trying to match up every unmarried person their eyes clap on.” Then he teased his father, “You better hope they don’t glance
your
way!”

Preston actually laughed. “I think I’m safe in that regard. I know Gertrude. Sweet old bird who cornered me years ago to see if I was interested in marrying again. I set her straight on that.”