The Earl's Wallflower Bride Page 2

  Her Grace rose from the settee and motioned for him to sit next to her. “Welcome, Lord Steinbeck.”

  He bowed then proceeded to the settee. With a glance at Lady Toplyn, he asked, “How is your brother?”

  “Malcolm’s doing well,” she replied. “His wife is expecting a child.”

  Malcolm was going to be a father? Why didn’t Malcolm tell him? He would have wanted to celebrate the good news with him. Forcing aside the sting, he sat down and smiled. “Will you send him my congratulations?”

  “I’ll do that,” she replied.

  “Would you like something to eat or drink?” Her Grace asked, pointing to the scones and the tea.

  Figuring it’d be in bad form to not accept at least something she offered despite the fact that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, he said, “Tea will be fine, thank you.”

  With a nod, she poured him a cup. “If you wish,” she began, “you may address us by our Christian names. We don’t stand on formality when we’re in this room. I’m Helena. That is Chloe, and I assume you know Melissa’s name since you’re friends with her brother.”

  She handed him the cup, and he took it, not comfortable with the idea of addressing them informally, even if it was only in this room. Perhaps he could get away without calling any of them by name. He decided to offer a smile, letting her infer whatever she wanted from it, and took a drink of the tea. Black tea. She had good taste. Yet another promising sign.

  Chloe cleared her throat to get his attention. “We usually start by asking what type of lady you’d like to marry. What kind of interests would you like her to have? What do you want her to look like?”

  “I’m not a gentleman who believes in mincing words,” he said, putting his cup back on the tray, glad they chose to get down to business instead of engaging in small talk. So much time was wasted with small talk. “Truthfully, it matters little to me what her interests are or what she looks like. My main concern is getting an heir. As long as she can conceive a child, she’ll be right for me.”

  He thought keeping things as simple as possible would be a huge relief to them, but he could tell by their expressions that they weren’t at all happy with his answer.

  “I’m not sure what else you want from me,” he said. “I’m not particular about the kind of wife I get.”

  “My lord,” Helena began, “we prefer to make matches that will be happy ones.”

  “I will be happy with whoever you give me.”

  “But your happiness isn’t the only one we need to take into consideration. We also need to look at the lady’s needs and concerns. There has to be some benefit in this marriage for her.”

  “All right.” He thought over it for a moment and ventured, “She gets to be a countess. I do very well financially. She’ll never want for anything.”

  “What of companionship?”

  He shrugged. “What of it?”

  “Most ladies who come to us want a marriage to be more than a way to secure their livelihood. Ideally, they get a husband who can share life’s joys and sorrows with them.”

  Share life’s joys and sorrows? Wasn’t that what friends were for?

  “Let’s try a different approach,” Chloe said. “What are your interests?”

  Thankfully, this was easier than trying to figure out an answer the ladies wanted to hear. “Since I’m friends with her brother,” he motioned to Melissa, “I’m sure she’s aware we have a mutual interest in the pursuit of making money. Not only do we want to make it, but we also want to be wise with our use of it.”

  “Then would it be safe to say you’d be a better match with a lady who doesn’t waste money on senseless things?” Chloe asked.

  Funny. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “Now that you mention it, it would be nice if she didn’t squander the wealth I’m building. I’d like to leave a sizable inheritance to my heir.”

  “Good!” Helena smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “According to Malcolm,” Melissa inserted, “you two can talk about money all day long and never get bored. What if you got a wife who could have the same kind of conversations you have with Malcolm?”

  How Warren missed those conversations with Malcolm. As much as he wanted to ask her why Malcolm seemed to be avoiding him, he didn’t dare. At least not in front of everyone. So, he settled for saying, “I doubt anyone can match your brother in intellect when it comes to money. But if she had a better understanding about it than most ladies, it would be nice.”

  “What other interests do you have?” Chloe asked as she dipped the quill in the inkwell.

  “I like to keep current on what’s happening in Parliament,” he said. “For instance, were you aware Parliament is trying to suppress more civil disturbances that have been erupting in our country?”

  Helena and Melissa didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, but Chloe stopped writing in order to say, “My husband mentioned something about the Coercion Acts.”

  “Right. That was passed earlier this year.” Good. He was glad to know at least one lady in the room knew what he was referring to. Maybe it would be nice if his wife knew something about what was going on in England. “I suppose it might be nice to be able to talk to my wife from time to time about things happening in England. Politically, I mean. I don’t care about what people are wearing or what the latest scandal is.”

  Chloe offered a nod and turned back to writing her notes. It was a shame he couldn’t see what she was writing. He’d like to know if this was in his favor or not.

  “What do you do to relax?” Helena asked.

  “Well,” he forced his gaze off the parchment Chloe was writing on, “when I’ve performed all my duties for the day, I enjoy simple things like playing cards. I never gamble, so I don’t play for money. I only play to win or lose the hand. Once in a while, I take pleasure in riding a horse.”

  Melissa tapped her lips with her index finger before asking, “Have you ever gone fox hunting?”

  “From time to time, I’ll engage in the sport,” he said. “I don’t do it as often as I like. Time slips away from me more often than not. I like to make every day count.” His gaze shifted again to Chloe who was still busily writing on that parchment. “If I were to request the ideal wife, I think she would be someone who can manage an intelligent conversation. If she wants me to be her friend, then she has to have something of interest to offer.”

  Helena and Melissa exchanged a look, relaying some private message.

  Warren knew it. No such lady existed. He was reaching for the impossible. “But as I said earlier, all I require is a lady who will support my goal in getting an heir. As long as she does that, I’ll be very pleased with the match.”

  “We can’t promise you’ll be pleased with the match,” Helena told him. “All we can do is pair you up with a lady who will give you your best chance of a love match.”

  Well, either way, he supposed he couldn’t ask for anything more. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No, I think we have all we need,” Helena replied. “We’ll let you know when we find your match.”

  That went easier than he’d expected, indicating they knew what they were doing. Again, this was another promising sign that all would work out for the best.

  “Thank you,” he told them. With a bow, he left, relieved to know that he’d left the matter of finding a wife in very capable hands.

  ***

  “I hear the Duchess of Ashbourne and her friends are highly successful when it comes to matchmaking,” Iris’ friend, Miss Bethany Carlisle, said.

  The two sat on the settee in Iris’ drawing room. Iris had been on edge ever since her visit with the duchess and her friends. She was hardly able to eat anything, much less drink the tea she’d poured for them both.

  “I don’t know,” Iris replied, trying not to give into despair. “It’s been fifteen days, and I haven’t heard anything. What if there’s no one for me? Maybe I’m supposed to be a spinster.
”

  Bethany gasped. “Don’t say such a thing! Of course, there’s someone meant for you. You’re a lovely lady. Any gentleman would be fortunate to have you.”

  “No. I would be fortunate to have him.”

  “Oh, you can’t look at it that way.”

  “Why not? You know how hard I’ve tried, and yet, I couldn’t get beyond the first invitation to a dinner party.”

  “That’s not true. Lord Steinbeck invited you to a second one.”

  Iris shot her friend a pointed look.

  Bethany’s face grew pink. “Sorry. That was a bad example.”

  It certainly was. But her friend was right. “I should have listened to Regan. She warned me about him, but I was too foolish to take her advice.”

  “You were in love with him,” Bethany replied. “You had to make sure she was correct. No one can fault you for that.”

  “Well, I won’t make that mistake again. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Robert is just as upset by the whole thing as we are,” Bethany confided. “In fact, he told Lord Steinbeck exactly what he thought of him.”

  Iris shook her head. “I doubt it’ll do any good. Lord Steinbeck can’t see past his own nose. He only invited me to those dinner parties because he admires my father.”

  “Well, I do have one thing to thank Lord Steinbeck for. If we hadn’t been at his dinner party, we never would have met.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  Bethany finished her tea and glanced at Iris’ cup which was still full. “Aren’t you going to drink anything?”

  Iris thought about it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “No, I’m not in the mood to drink anything. Would you like to go to the park? I think a walk would help ease some of my nerves.”

  “A walk sounds like a splendid idea.”

  The two stood up just as the footman came into the room. “My lady,” he told Iris as he approached her, “I have a missive for you. It’s from the Duchess of Ashbourne.”

  Iris couldn’t take the parchment he extended to her. This was it. Helena and her friends had found someone for her, and she was about to find out who he was. But she froze in place.

  Bethany accepted the missive on her behalf. “Thank you.”

  With a nod, he left the room.

  Bethany turned to her, her face lit up with excitement. “You have a match!”

  “I didn’t even hear someone come to the door,” Iris said.

  Iris hurried over to the window to see if the person was still there. But of course, the person was already long gone. Not that it mattered who delivered the missive. It wasn’t going to change the name of the gentleman who’d been picked for her.

  Her stomach tossed in apprehension. Did she really want to know which gentleman she’d soon be marrying?

  “Do you want to open it or shall I?” Bethany asked.

  Turning her attention away from the window, Iris glanced at the missive in her friend’s hand. Would it be better if she or Bethany read it first? After a couple seconds of agonizing over her decision, she finally gestured to Bethany.

  “You do it,” Iris told her friend. “I can’t read it.” Bethany began opening it, but Iris stopped her. “Wait.” She went back to the settee and sat down. She didn’t trust her knees to keep her steady. Now that the waiting was over, she thought she might faint. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the answer. “Go on. I think I’m ready.”

  “All right.” Bethany sat beside her and opened the missive.

  Iris watched her friend read it. At first, there was an expectant look in her eyes. Then her eyes grew wide. Then she gasped. Then she cried out in alarm and dropped the paper as if the thing just bit her.

  “What did it say?” Iris asked. “Did the missive say there’s no match for me?”

  “Oh, there’s a match,” Bethany replied, “but you don’t want to see it.”

  Iris frowned. This didn’t bode well. Iris’ gaze went to the missive on the floor. Did she dare read it? After careful debate, she finally decided she had to. This was her future, and she had to know who was going to be in it.

  She made a move to get up when Bethany touched her arm. “Don’t,” Bethany said. “It’s too horrible.”

  “Who is he?” Iris asked, glancing from her friend to the missive and back again.

  Bethany shook her head. “I can’t. It’s just too horrible.”

  All right. Iris had been adequately warned this was going to be a most unpleasant match. Ignoring her friend’s protests, she got up and went over to the missive. She picked it up and turned it so it was right side up.

  She had to read it a couple of times before she realized her worst nightmare had come true. No. It couldn’t be. It had to be anyone but him. Anyone but him! But no matter how many times she read through the missive, the same name and title kept popping up.

  Warren Beaufort, the Earl of Steinbeck.

  Iris stood still for several long moments. The room was so quiet she thought she could hear a pin drop.

  “Iris?” Bethany hesitantly asked.

  Iris couldn’t take her gaze off the missive. She kept hoping the name would change, but it didn’t. No matter how hard she willed it, it remained the same.

  Bethany stepped toward her. “Iris, are you all right?”

  Before Iris could process the fact that her friend was talking to her, everything went black and she fainted.

  Chapter Three

  “I can’t marry him,” Iris told her father later that day. “I just can’t. I don’t care what the Duchess of Ashbourne says.”

  Her father studied the missive, his brow wrinkled with concern. “Oh dear. This is most unfortunate.”

  That was an understatement. Iris turned to her mother who sat in the chair next to her, too shocked to respond.

  “Of all the gentlemen in London, why does it have to be him?” Iris asked them both. “Can’t the duchess find someone else?”

  “She makes an excellent point,” her mother told her father. “You must go to the duchess and demand she select someone else.”

  Her father hesitated but then nodded. “You’re right. We’re paying the duchess for her services, and the least she can do is give us a choice we can be happy with.”

  Iris breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there, she thought her father was going to argue with her mother. Iris knew her father liked Lord Steinbeck. The two had a tendency to talk whenever they came across each other, whether it was at the balls, the symphony, or the theatre.

  If Iris didn’t know better, she’d swear Lord Steinbeck made it a habit of following her father so he’d have a reason to talk to him. Not that he’d ever make a similar effort for her. Indeed, he liked to pretend she wasn’t in the room.

  “I’ll go see the duchess at once,” her father decided and headed for the doorway.

  “I’ll go with you,” Iris said, following him.

  He stopped and turned to face her, a concerned expression on his face. “Maybe you should stay here. Things will undoubtedly get unpleasant. All confrontations end up being uncomfortable.”

  “This involves me, Father. I have a right to be there.”

  After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right. We’ll go together.”

  “Right now.”

  “Well, perhaps we ought to send her a request to speak with her. She might be busy.”

  “I don’t care if she’s busy or not. This is something that must be dealt with at once.”

  He lowered his gaze to the missive, a worried frown on his face. She recognized that frown. It meant he was wavering in his decision. He liked Lord Steinbeck. No doubt, he was thinking of all the good conversations he’d have with the stuffy gentleman.

  “Father,” she pleaded, her tone begging him to take her side, “Lord Steinbeck ignored me at two dinner parties. He’s already proven he has no interest in me.”

  “Iris is right,” her mother said. “This match isn’t
a good one.”

  “All right,” he replied and folded the missive. He put it in his pocket. “I’ll go at once.”

  “We’ll go at once,” Iris reminded him.

  He nodded and indicated for her to join him.

  Good. She wanted to be there when her father told Helena she wasn’t as good at matchmaking as she thought she was.

  By the time they reached Helena’s townhouse, Iris was convinced the matter would be resolved within a few minutes. She joined her father as he got out of the carriage and up the steps. She stood right by him as he knocked on the door, and she followed him and the footman into the drawing room where Helena and her husband were smiling over their daughter, who was only a month and a half old.

  Iris stopped just at the threshold of the room, suddenly wondering if she should have let her father request a time to meet with Helena. She didn’t know why it didn’t occur to her the lady had a life that didn’t involve her business. Helena’s husband rose to his feet, and Helena looked up from the baby in her arms.

  “May I help you?” Helena’s husband asked.

  “The Duke of Hartwell and his daughter wish to speak with Her Grace about an important matter,” the footman said.

  “Of course,” Helena replied with a nod. She handed her husband their daughter and turned to Iris and her father as her husband left the room. “What would you like to eat and drink?”

  As far as Iris was concerned, there was no need for refreshments, but her father had other ideas. “I wouldn’t mind some green tea and crumpets, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” Helena assured him then told the footman to have the butler bring them. After the footman left, she motioned to the chairs. “Please, sit.”

  Iris sat first, and her father chose the chair next to her. Good. Now they could get down to the heart of the matter.

  Helena settled on the settee and clasped her hands in front of her. “Does this have to do with the gentleman matched for your daughter?”