To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) (21 page)

‘I’m so glad we are merely friends,’ she said with a long sigh, partly to reassure him and partly to remind her heart of the boundaries they’d agreed. ‘After all, neither of us wants marriage. We aren’t looking beyond tomorrow. You do agree, Robert, don’t you?’

Robert swallowed his words. Silently he thanked God that they had not slipped out. One false word and he’d lose her. He should have remembered his father’s experience and how emotions could cloud things. Robert knew then that he was not prepared to let her go. He wanted her by his side, but he just didn’t know how to keep her there yet. ‘What else would we be?’

She laid her cheek against his. He kept his arm about her, holding her close, fearful that she would guess he
wanted much more than mere friendship. Words he tried to convince himself meant very little. It was actions that counted and right now Henri was in his arms with her body snuggled next to him.

‘I was afraid earlier that you would say something. My mother told me that in time I would want to replace Edmund, but I never have. I still don’t. And knowing that you don’t want marriage either makes it easier.’ She looked up at him with large shimmering eyes, eyes that he couldn’t read.

He wished he had never said those words. Marriage to Henri was an entirely different prospect than marriage to an abstract woman. But now was far from the right time. Caution. He opted for a light tone. ‘Did you love him very much?’

She brought her knees up to her chest and went very still for a long time. ‘He was very good. Edmund was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen but…he never did anything until I asked him to.’

‘Spineless,’ Robert supplied, giving way slightly to jealousy. At her questioning glance, he shrugged. ‘Things you haven’t said. You had to force the elopement. Any fool would know that to be offered a chance with you is worth grabbing with both hands.’

‘You do wonders for my confidence.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I think that sort of love was a once-in-a-lifetime love. I’m not sure I ever want to have that sort of love again. Sometimes, it seems like it was so bloodless, so lacking in passion. You and I…we have passion but passion burns out quickly.’

Robert placed a kiss on her temple, silently vowing that somehow she would love him. It would be more than passion between them. But it had to come from her first,
not him. He refused to risk the rejection. ‘Then we will be intimate friends who can forgive each other.’

‘I knew you would understand.’ She tightened her arms about him and snuggled down so her head rested on his bare chest.

‘Understand. Yes, I understand.’ He captured her lips and pulled her body firmly against his, allowing his body to say the words. ‘It is the best sort of friendship. And, Henri, I will protect you. We will keep this our secret.’

H
enri woke the next morning alone in the unfamiliar bed. The bed curtains were pulled tight, but a shaft of sunlight peaked through.

Sometime while she slept, Robert had departed. Discreet, but somehow unsatisfactory. She would have enjoyed waking up in his arms.

Henri wriggled her toes, trying to find a warm spot, a tiny place to remind her that last night was not a dream. Nothing. And the more she tried to convince herself that this was a good thing and that she should be pleased by Robert’s thoughtfulness, the less pleased she was. She wanted to think that he’d reluctantly left her bed, and that he’d kissed her forehead as he’d done so, but she worried that it had been some half-remembered dream.

‘Ah, you’re awake, my lady.’ Grace came bustling into the room. ‘The master just sent me up to see if you were ready. He’s determined to catch them today. It’s terribly exciting being involved in a chase like this.’

‘We’ll find them,’ Henri said as positively as she dared.

Grace began to lay out Henri’s clothes, humming a little tune as she did so. Henri wondered uncomfortably if the maid suspected what had happened last night. Thankfully her clothes were piled neatly on a chair rather than being strewn across the room. Robert had proved a thoughtful maid. She’d have to remember the little details for the next time.
The next time.
The words had a pleasant ring.

Grace frowned holding up the gown Henri had worn the night before. ‘Whoever helped you to undress last night should have taken more care. One of your buttons has come loose and the ruffle on your left sleeve is torn. They will have to be seen to.’

‘It was my fault. Will it take long?’

‘I’m handy with a needle and thread. It will be mended before you have finished your coffee.’

Henri took a sip of the bitter liquid. A life of wickedness was going to mean changes and she was going to have to learn to sew better. She refused to be undone by a simple button or a torn ruffle. But she could understand now how women could be discovered. ‘Thank you, Grace. The sleeping powder appears to have worked.’

Grace bent her head, concentrating on threading a needle. ‘You’re lucky, ma’am. Travel appears to agree with you. I had so wanted to make a good impression on Mr Hudson, the coachman, and we had to stop because of me.’

‘We stopped because it was late and folly to continue,’ Henri said firmly. She took another sip of coffee, a plot formulating in her brain. Grace and the coachman. ‘The
closed air of the carriage caused your problems. If the weather is fine, you should ride up with Mr Hudson, rather than down with me and Mr Montemorcy. I dare say you’ll find it easier.’

‘I couldn’t. I mean…’

‘With the wind on your face, you should be perfectly fine and then you can ensure that I don’t tear my lace when I undress.’

‘The wind on my face. You’re a marvel, ma’am!’ Grace held up the dress. ‘There, it is as good as new. No one will guess.’

Henri deftly turned the conversation to hairstyles. All she needed was a cool head and quick wit. The rest was easy.

* * *

Between the jolts in the carriage, which would have sent her flying towards Robert, and her sudden inability to make easy conversation, Henri discovered her confidence misplaced as the carriage rolled down the road towards Jedburgh. She kept thinking of things to say and then discarding them as trite. She had thought that Grace travelling up with Mr Hudson would make things easier, but somehow the silence felt awkward rather than intimate.

‘You are awfully silent,’ Robert remarked from where he sat on the other side of the carriage with his top hat shading his eyes and his hands lightly resting on his silver-topped cane.

‘Am I?’ Henri grabbed on to the seat edge to prevent herself from flying into his arms as the carriage hit yet another deep rut. ‘I was thinking about young Master Jenkins and his Latin exam. His mother has hopes of him studying for the church.’

‘You’re a poor liar, Thorndike.’ He reached out and pulled her across the gap in the carriage, settling her next to him. ‘There, that is better. It won’t do to have my best girl tumbling into the dirt. I can’t think why Hudson is driving so poorly today.’

A bubble of pleasure grew within Henri at his words. ‘Best girl?’

‘I spend far too much time around my workers. Do you object? And why do you want to talk about young Master Jenkins?’ His arm gathered her close to him. He tilted her chin upwards. ‘Why is it important?’

‘Because it means that someone cares enough to remember. It is important to be remembered. Little details.’

‘But I’ve been looking forward to doing this all morning. Good morning, my dear Henri.’ Robert dropped a kiss on her lips. ‘I don’t care about young Master Jenkins or that Hudson is making cow-eyes at Grace. I want to know about how you are doing. It was a wrench to leave you.’

‘I’m worried about Sophie,’ Henri admitted as inwardly she glowed. ‘The fact that she took a frying pan bothers me. When we first discussed Sebastian, I told her that if she wanted to make sure he behaved, she should always have a frying pan to hand.’

‘She took you at your word.’

‘It would seem so.’ Henri concentrated on the horsehair seats. ‘What if that means Sophie doesn’t want to marry Sebastian?’

‘Will I force it?’ Robert removed his arm from Henri’s shoulders. ‘I have to look at what is best for Sophie in the future. Her father wanted her to take her rightful place
in society. He gave both Dorothy and I that charge. I refuse to have her live the life of a
demi-monde
or not be accepted by the best people. Do not seek to bolster your cousin. He will do right by my ward.’

‘The best people are not always the most interesting. My instinct—’

He shook his head, rejecting her argument. ‘Sophie is my responsibility. Don’t interfere, Henri, or it will be the end of our friendship. It is what is best for Sophie in the long term, rather than right now. Meddling, however well meant, has no place and it won’t change my mind.’

Henri bit her lip. Despite everything, he remained convinced that she meddled. He hadn’t learnt from yesterday.

He gave a husky laugh. ‘Henri, stop worrying. All will be well.’

Henri gave a small nod and allowed Robert to discuss his plans for the aluminium experiments. All the while in the back of her mind, she kept wondering what would happen and whose side would she be on?

The carriage lurched slightly to one side. Robert rapped the roof. ‘I pay you to drive, Hudson, not to enjoy the scenery.’

‘Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.’

Henri heard the muffled sound of a giggle. She raised her eyebrow.

A dimple showed in the corner of Robert’s mouth. ‘You are an inveterate matchmaker.’

‘Unashamed and unabashed as long as it isn’t my own match.’

The carriage gave another lurch.

Robert rapped on the roof again. ‘You had best stop
at the next inn and check the wheel. We don’t want it damaged.’

‘Right-o. The Bluebell should be on the left in a mile or two.’

* * *

Robert ground his teeth and tried to make light of the delay to Henri. Everything was conspiring against him, and Henri’s blind assertion that Sophie might not want to marry Cawburn did nothing to ease his growing anxiety.

‘We should be back on the road shortly,’ Robert said, helping Henri from the carriage. ‘Far better to be cautious now, than to be forced to wait later.’

‘I hope so. The sooner we know what truly passed between my cousin and your ward, the sooner a judgement can be made. Far be it from me to prejudge what the future might hold.’

He shook his head. It was a straightforward decision. As much as he loathed Cawburn, Sophie would suffer more from being outside society than from being married to him. Her father’s will would ensure that. Cawburn had not kidnapped her off the street. Sophie would have to live with the consequences. He could only hope she was happy. As the marriage was inevitable, he toyed with the idea of prolonging the journey to Jedburgh so he could enjoy more time with Henri.

‘Henri, is everything all right? Have you seen another dog?’ Robert noticed all the colour had drained from her face and she stood as still as a marble statue. He grabbed her arm, preparing to shove her behind him. He’d hoped her fear of dogs had gone, but obviously not. Silently he cursed her late husband. He should have taken more care.

‘Look over there.’ She broke free, raised her hand and pointed. ‘That is my aunt’s carriage. I am sure of it. I would recognise the mismatched wheels anywhere. Only my aunt would have one blue wheel and three yellow ones. Sebastian had long lamented the folly of such an arrangement, but Aunt Frances says it makes the carriage distinctive and easy to spot in a crowd.’

‘Then they are here.’ Robert opened his arms, ready to embrace her. ‘Henri, you are a marvel. You found them.’

‘I told you that Sebastian would make for Jedburgh. I knew it! A triumph for woman’s intuition!’ Her face became wreathed in a triumphant smile before her brow knotted. ‘I wonder why they have stopped here. My aunt’s carriage is slower than Sebastian’s curricle, but they still should have made good time.’

‘Why ponder the ways of providence?’ He linked arms with Henri. Cawburn had not made it to the safety of Scotland. He could ensure that Sophie was properly married, rather than being married through Scottish law. There would be no question about Sophie’s marriage lines or tittering behind fans. Sophie would not be ostracised. He’d fulfil his promise to Ravel. ‘Shall we go and find the errant lovers, Henri?’

‘But we will do this discreetly,’ she said firmly, tightening her grip on his arm and holding him back. ‘The last thing we want is a huge scandal that will be all over the Borders and beyond.’

He gave a sigh. What did she think he was going to do—go in and haul Cawburn from the bed he was undoubtedly sharing with Sophie? ‘I want to protect Sophie’s name. There is nothing to be gained by making
this a bigger scandal. And there’s a slim possibility that Cawburn can be moulded into a good husband.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, laying her hand on his arm. ‘Nothing is gained through complexity. There’ll be a simple explanation.’

‘I would love to know what it is.’ Robert looked down at Henri’s upturned face. Her blue eyes were troubled. He wanted to take her away from this, take her someplace where they could be together. Somehow, he knew that whatever happened here, she wouldn’t be satisfied. And he refused to give in to her overly simplistic request of waiting. ‘I will give Cawburn a chance to explain, before I pound his face to a pulp. And, Henri, he deserves a beating. You know he does.’

‘But you will give him a chance to say more than two words.’

‘Because you ask, I will give him the chance to say two words.’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘Thank you. My cousin believes his features enhance his fortune.’

‘Without them, he’d be a pauper.’

She did not move away from him, but stood there, looking up at him. Her breath fanned his cheek. Giving in to impulse, he lowered his head and drank from her lips. Her sweet mouth opened and he tasted the cool interior. Summoning all his self-control, he broke off the kiss and put her away from him.

‘What was that for?’ she asked, bringing her fingers to her mouth.

‘For luck. You are not going to deny we need all the luck we can get, are you?’

‘I never took you for a superstitious man, Robert.

I thought it was all the modern scientific method with you.’

‘Sometimes, we can all use a fair wind and sunshine.’ His fingers twitched her bonnet into place, making her into the formidable Lady Thorndike again. Robert pressed his lips together. ‘Sometimes, all you can have is hope.’

* * *

Henri entered the smoke-filled public room with trepidation. She lifted her skirt slightly to prevent it from making patterns in the sawdust-strewn floor. A good part of her wished Sebastian would be there, but the other part hoped he wouldn’t. Everything was conspiring against her. With each touch and with every kiss, she fell more in love with Robert and it was becoming impossible to keep a clear head. She knew that if she wanted to keep Robert in her life, she had to be discreet, but discretion was the last thing she wanted to be with Robert.

A variety of farmers, labourers and drovers filled the smoke-wreathed room to bursting. A game of cards was in progress and the sound of voices assaulted her ears. She gave a quick glance around the crowded room and the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

There in a dark corner with his greatcoat obscuring his face sat Sebastian, morosely nursing a pint of beer. She glanced about the room, but he appeared to be alone; not even her aunt’s coachman sat with him. Her stomach clenched. Something had happened. Sebastian never drank alone. Ever.

‘He is here, but I don’t see Sophie,’ Henri said in an undertone. ‘Perhaps she did return to the New Lodge.
Perhaps we have been on a wild-goose chase. It could have happened, Robert.’

She started to wave to Sebastian but Robert caught her wrist.

‘Discretion, Henri.’ Robert stepped in front of her, shielding her body from Sebastian’s view. ‘Quietly. We do not want to startle him. Let me speak to him.’

‘But we need to find Sophie. He is our best hope. And if he is innocent, we need to know that as well. Allow me to do this on my own. Sebastian will tell me. You confront him and it will end in tears.’ Henri clasped her hands together. Robert had to understand and give way. ‘My way is better. I understand my cousin.’

Robert scowled. ‘I will give you half a minute to discover Sophie’s whereabouts before I make Cawburn confess.’

Henri’s heart hammered in her chest. Rather than insisting on his way, Robert was letting her try. He believed in her.

‘Sebastian likes to think his ideas are his own. The trick is making him think of the correct idea.’

‘Cawburn will do the right thing or else,’ Robert said grimly. ‘He had best understand that this is no time for his usual behaviour. And, yes, I know all about the pugs and the women he left before that. I dislike leaving anything to chance.’