The Duke's Unlisted Matchmaker

Chapter 1

“You know this is ridiculous, Nathaniel, don’t you?”

Nathaniel Thorne looked up from his drink, frowning. He had been staring into the amber depths for the last few minutes, trying to marshal his thoughts.

As the Duke of Henshaw, he ought not to have been hiding in the darkened library during the Crestwicke Ball. He knew that, and he hadn’t required his friend Jonathan’s assistance in pointing it out.

Not that Jonathan could ever seem to stop himself from pointing things out, whether his help was needed or not. Now he crossed the room and stood before Nathaniel’s chair, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re not going to get what you want by sitting around in the dark,” he said.

“I’m beginning to think that what I want might simply be out of reach,” Nathaniel mused.

“Ridiculous,” Jonathan said again.

Nathaniel looked up at his friend. Now that he was married, Jonathan’s demeanor had changed somewhat.

He had become much more sure of himself when it came to dealings with ladies.

He held himself upright, his chin lifted, and Nathaniel felt more strongly than he ever had before that he ought to refer to his friend by his formal title.

Your Grace, he imagined saying. Or even Alderwick.

It sounded foolish even in his head. As long as they had known one another, since their school days, Jonathan had simply been Jonathan.

But now Nathaniel was the last of their group to remain unmarried. The last bastion of bachelorhood, he thought, not for the first time. And he was beginning to think he was consigned to that state forever.

He had never expected to want to marry.

The door to the library opened and their friend Gabriel eased his way inside. The eldest of the three and the first to have married, Gabriel had always had a bit of an elder-brother bearing when it came to the two of them. That much had not changed in recent years.

“Nathaniel,” he chided. “You’re being rude, hiding in here. There are ladies who would like to dance with you.”

Nathaniel groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“For pity’s sake,” Jonathan said, though he sounded as though he had no pity for Nathaniel at all.

His voice was sharp and impatient. “You wish to marry, Nathaniel. We are at one of the most anticipated events of the season. The ballroom is full of young ladies looking for an eligible gentleman. You are a duke.”

“Precisely my trouble!” Nathaniel said. “How am I to choose any among them to marry when I know so very little about them? All I know about them is that they want to marry well. Every lady I meet does just the same thing as the one before her. She smiles prettily. She dances well. She behaves as though I am the most intriguing person she has ever met, and she shares with me some fascinating detail about herself—she knows how to paint, perhaps, or to play the pianoforte. A few have even told me that they are well-read, if you can believe it.”

“A lady will do what she can to stand out,” Gabriel said wisely.

“My Agnes was just the same, before we married, though marriage wasn’t what she was seeking.

And I’m deeply grateful that I paid attention to what she had to share with me, may I add!

Had I not done so, I might never have managed to persuade her that she wanted to be married after all. I might not be in love right now.”

“Yes, well,” Nathaniel said tartly. “That’s all well and good for you, Gabriel, but I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for a wife.”

Jonathan’s face softened, as it rarely did. It was a sure sign that he was thinking of his own wife, Violet. “There’s nothing in the world that says you ought not to love your wife, Nathaniel.”

“But you must admit that one thing is more difficult to obtain than the other,” Nathaniel pressed. “I need a marriage. I have a child to think of.”

“You don’t—” Gabriel began to object.

Nathaniel interrupted. He knew what his friend would say, and he didn’t want to hear it again. “You know what the situation is,” he said, eyeing Gabriel firmly. “Do you deny that a mother is needed?”

“Well…no,” Gabriel conceded.

“And so I must marry,” Nathaniel concluded. “And I must do so promptly. There is no time to waste. Raising a child grows more complicated with every passing day, and I am ill-prepared.”

“You’re doing well enough,” Gabriel said gently. “I’ve seen the way he behaves. He’s not disobedient. He’s simply…grieving. He’s so young.”

“I know,” Nathaniel sighed. “But that is what I mean. He isn’t ill-behaved, but I find him impossible to manage because I simply don’t know what to do for him. He requires a lady’s hand. A motherly hand. And I can’t be that for him…but I can provide it. I have only to find myself a wife.”

“Which you won’t do sitting in the library,” Jonathan said, wresting the conversation back to its original point. “You must come out and socialize.”

“But I don’t see that it will do any good,” Nathaniel said. “There have been many balls this season, Jonathan, as you well know, and I’ve gotten no farther than a second dance with any lady.”

“Because you haven’t asked any of them to socialize beyond that point!

” Jonathan threw up his hands. “You aren’t new to London society.

You know what the next step is. You must select someone and pursue courtship with her.

The purpose of these balls is to meet them so that you may make your choice.

It’s that simple. Surely you’ve met someone you like, in all this time! ”

Gabriel was chuckling. “You know, Jonathan, before you and Violet married, you didn’t think it was so easy,” he pointed out. “I seem to recall you saying that you would never marry.”

“Well, that was very different,” Jonathan said.

“Of course it was.” Gabriel smiled. “All I’m saying is that we ought to be patient with Nathaniel as he sorts through these affairs. Remember how confounding we found it when it was our turn.”

“Very well,” Jonathan acknowledged. “And yet, I do say that Nathaniel would do well to avail himself of the benefit of our wisdom and experience. And besides, on this particular matter, the answer is quite apparent. If he wishes to marry, he must choose a lady to court. There can be no argument about that.”

“But how am I to choose?” Nathaniel shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t know which of these ladies would make a good mother. I can hardly recall which of them plays the pianoforte!”

“Lady Eleanor,” Gabriel supplied.

“Who?”

“The apple-cheeked one. Lavender gown. You danced with her earlier this evening. Come now, Nathaniel, you don’t remember that?”

“I danced with many ladies. And how on Earth do you know all this when I don’t?” Nathaniel heard the frustration in his voice. “How do you know who plays the pianoforte?”

“Well, I know Lady Eleanor because she has socialized with Agnes from time to time,” Gabriel said.

“You’d know yourself if you’d asked her any questions instead of just standing there like a stone, you old grouch.

But you’re fortunate, because you have me to help you.

She’s the daughter of the Viscount Shrewsbury.

She’s looking to wed this season—if you liked her, or if you think skill on the pianoforte is a winning attribute, she might be a fine choice. ”

“I can’t even recall her face,” Nathaniel said.

“This is the heart of my problem, Gabriel. It doesn’t matter how many ladies I meet—none of them ever stand out to me.

None are memorable to me. Half the time, I don’t even recall their names!

Lady Eleanor…she must have said that to me, and yet I feel as if this is the first time I’m hearing it. ”

“You have no memory, that’s the problem,” Gabriel teased. “Of course, the right lady will make allowances for that flaw. I hope you meet her.”

“Now, hold on.” Jonathan held up a hand. “Why should he depend on memory?”

“What do you mean?” Gabriel cocked his head quizzically.

“I mean that there are so many young ladies to contend with, and as he isn’t looking for love…Nathaniel is right. It’s too much for any man to remember.” Jonathan strode over to the writing desk in the corner and retrieved a pen and a piece of paper. “We ought to put their names down,” he said.

“Put whose names down?” Nathaniel asked. “You don’t mean every unmarried lady in London.”

“Well, that would be a place to start!” Jonathan said. “How else are you to keep track, with your inability to learn even the most basic details? And look, you can mark down whether or not you liked them—maybe even write something to help you remember which is which.”

“Oh, yes,” Gabriel agreed, warming to the project. “I’m sure that will help, Nathaniel. Go on. Write down the names of as many ladies as you can think of. Start with Lady Eleanor, perhaps.”

Nathaniel wrote down Lady Eleanor of Shrewsbury.

His friends watched him expectantly. “Well, go on,” Gabriel urged.

“I don’t remember any others.” It wasn’t strictly true. There were other names in his mind. Some of them even paired with faces. But he didn’t think he could recall enough of them to give the exercise merit.

“Oh…here.” Jonathan took the paper from him. “Gabriel, help me.”

The two men bent their heads together and conferred quietly.

Before them, a list began to appear. More names than Nathaniel would have believed possible were written down on the paper, most with a little note beside them that he assumed was meant to remind him of who they were. Auburn hair. Chess player. Dimples.

He stared at the list as Jonathan handed it back to him. “All right,” he said. “I have to admit…this is helpful. I can strike off the ones I know for certain aren’t right for me.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said eagerly. “And if you like someone you can draw a mark by her name.”

“Two marks if you really like her,” Jonathan chimed in. “The point is to narrow this list down to just one name, after all…when you find the one, you should put a third star.”

“Yes,” Nathaniel agreed. This idea had started off sounding a bit mad, but now he was beginning to see the wisdom in it.

“This will help immensely. I should just keep it in my pocket, and then every time I dance with someone, slip away to make a note of what I thought. That way, I’ll be able to keep it all straight in my mind. ”

“And if you enjoy someone’s company, you know to look for her again,” Gabriel said, laughing loudly. “Are there any you can think of that we missed here?”

“No, I think it’s a fairly exhaustive list.” He looked down at it. “This is nearly every unmarried woman in the ton.”

“Nearly,” Gabriel agreed. “Certainly all the ones I think are suitable for you to consider…I left off a few spinsters, of course, but there wouldn't be much point in pursuing someone like that when so many young ladies are vying for your attention.”

“Yes, I think it’s more than enough to make a respectable start,” Jonathan agreed. “Now, will you go back out there and dance?”

“Very well.” The list had helped Nathaniel’s outlook, he had to admit. Suddenly, his search for a wife seemed like a project that could be completed, with manageable steps. The next step was to find a lady, learn her name, and share a dance with her. Then he could assess what he thought.

This isn’t going to be that bad after all.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a floorboard creaking.

His head jerked up. Dropping the list and forgetting all about it for the moment, he hurried over to the door. Had someone been spying?

He opened the door and looked out.

The hall was empty. There was no one to be seen.

Still, Nathaniel couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that someone had been standing there just a moment before.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he hurriedly waved his friends out. They were right. It was high time they returned to the ball.

It wasn’t until hours later, when he was in the carriage on the way home, that he recalled the list and realized he had left it behind.