Chapter One #3
Then there was also the delightful way she inhaled deep breaths whenever she was peeved with him, which seemed to be a constant occurrence because he was so quickly shooting down her every attempted match.
But he’d only begun to notice these little things that were attractive about her, so did it really count?
She was oblivious to his wayward thoughts as she continued.
“Yes, this ought to work out much better than having you escort these ladies around London one at a time. This was my mistake and explains why you have cut each of them off so quickly. You were afraid to hurt their feelings if a courtship progressed too far, so you ended every potential match before giving your feelings a chance to mature. Lady Felicity, having lasted the longest, had her hopes raised, and then you dashed them.”
“I never escorted her to a single ton affair. All I did was pay her three short visits,” James grumbled, “and we were always among company.”
He could not say Felicity’s heart was broken, for she did not appear to have any feelings for him whatsoever. In truth, he’d sensed all along that she desired the title of marchioness above all else and did not give a fig about him or his boys.
“I may have been hasty with the others, but my response to Felicity was not a mistake,” he continued.
“I think she was angry that I saw through her ambitions and thwarted her. However, I am deeply and sincerely sorry that you had to bear the brunt of her disappointment. She ranted and raged at you unfairly. For this, I can only repeat how sorry I am.”
Gwendolyn gave a nod to acknowledge his apology. “It was partly my fault for misjudging her and putting you in an untenable situation.”
James frowned. “Not your fault at all. You could not have known she would turn into a screeching harpy. Her behavior toward you startled me, and I already had a sense of her true nature.”
This made him think of Gwendolyn and the gentle way she was handling the incident. Kindness to his boys. Nothing more serious than a frown for him before moving on to finding a solution to these matchmaking failures.
Truly, she had dealt with him beautifully. Did he not owe her some cooperation in return?
“All right,” he conceded, “a house party it is.”
His sons stood up and cheered.
“As you know, my boys and I plan to return to Milbury Hill next week. Can you be ready in time to travel with us?”
Her eyes widened. “Me?”
“Ah, I see. Do you desire to bring along a chaperone? You must, of course. All expenses for both of you will be my responsibility. That is without question.”
“You misunderstand. I hadn’t planned on joining you at Milbury Hill.”
James shook his head as though he had not heard her right.
Was she jesting?
She did not appear to be.
“Lady Gwendolyn,” he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, “you must be there with me or I will never agree to the idea. I do not know the first thing about holding such a party. How am I to entertain, what…about twenty or thirty guests? What do I feed them? How often do I feed them? What entertainments do they require? Am I to entertain them for an entire week? And how am I to concentrate on any of the young ladies when all my time will be taken up attending to this crush of guests?”
“Hardly a crush,” Gwendolyn remarked.
“It is an invasion,” James insisted.
All those strangers running riot in his home? He was barely competent enough to handle his two boys.
Gwendolyn sighed. “Fiona is your neighbor and renowned for putting together the best house parties. She and I discussed this possibility weeks ago and she is more than happy to help with yours. In truth, she has mentioned it to me several times already and been quite enthusiastic about the possibility. I’ll write to her this very day and let her know you’ve—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Gwendolyn was now frowning at him. “You cannot ask for a better hostess than Fiona.”
He leaned forward in his chair and caught the approving nods of his boys, who were rather smart and knew where this was headed. “You are my matchmaker. These are your choices in the ladies selected. This party does not happen without you. Can I make myself any clearer? I want you.”
She shook her head. “But I have just given you ample reasons why Fiona is the better choice.”
“She is not,” he insisted. “I must have you.”
Dear heaven. What had he just said?
Gad, he was dense as a donkey not to have seen it earlier.
But yes, it was all so obvious to him now. He not only wanted Gwendolyn to be his hostess, he wanted her in a way that a man wants a woman.
This was why none of the young ladies had suited him. They weren’t Gwendolyn.
However, in all the months of helping him out with her matchmaking skills, she had never once considered putting herself forward as a prospect.
Yet she was not indifferent to him—a man just knew these things. There were little telltale signs. The blush on her cheeks, the way she patted her hair whenever near him. The way she leaned closer when speaking to him.
And gad, she smelled nice. Like honeysuckle growing wild among the hedgerows in a summer meadow.
Which led him to wondering…why had she not put herself forward?