Five years of heartbreak and mourning and loneliness. She had only truly begun to feel herself again in the last twelve months. But seeing Cav always brought Andrew back to her mind. Cav had been his best friend, after all.
He had become hers, too. When loss had become a constant companion, so had Cav.
She shook those thoughts aside as Cav got to his feet. He was a handsome man. Tall, broad shouldered, with dark blond curls that always looked just a bit mussed. Like he’d run his hands through it. Like someone else had done the same. Certainly plenty of someone else’s had. The man had a certain reputation with the ladies.
“Emily,” he said with a teasing arch of his brow and a quick flick of his head toward the clock on the mantel.
She laughed, pushing her thoughts away as she rushed to him and took his outstretched hands. “I know, I know!” she gasped. “I’m sorry to have kept you.”
His gaze flickered over her face. The smile remained but someone darker entered his eyes. She found herself glancing away from it. He often had that expression when he looked at her. Something a little…forlorn. She supposed she reminded him of Andrew, just as he reminded her.
“I am freezing,” she said, releasing him and rushing to the sideboard to look at what had been brought for refreshments. “Did you pour yourself tea?”
He held up the cup on the table beside the settee. “And Cringle brought those cakes Mrs. Lisle makes this time of year. She must know I crave them.”
“Everyone knows you crave them,” she teased as she put sugar in her tea and then took a sip with a sigh of pleasure. “You make a very theatrical expression of it any time they are served.”
“I know my audience,” he said with a wink in her direction. “Mrs. Lisle loves my boisterous declarations, which allows me more cakes.”
She shook her head. “You are hopeless. I don’t even know why I invited you here.”
He laughed, but he set his cup aside and took a long step toward her. The warmth of him hit her, the spicy scent that always accompanied his arrival a comfort.
“I’m not sure why you invited me either,” he said. “But I’m sure I can ascertain the answer if you give me a moment to observe.” He pressed a finger to his lips and looked her up and down. “You are happy.”
She wrinkled her brow. “Don’t sound so surprised by that fact. I’m a happy person, am I not?”
“You are, indeed. Practically bottled sunshine,” he teased. “But today you are positively glowing. You are up to something.”
“You do know me so well.” Emily leaned closer. “Cav, I have had an idea. No, not just an idea, the best of ideas, and I need your help!”
Cav held her stare for a moment, then tilted his head back and laughed. The tendons in his neck flexed around his cravat as he did so. Emily blushed. She knew she was exuberant. She couldn’t help it. Emotions were something she had never been able to hide. If she was joyful or excited, she showed it.
“All right, Emily. You have intrigued me. What is this idea?” he asked.
“Although we…lost Andrew five years ago,” she began, and the smile on Cav’s face fell slightly. He was truly the only one who felt the loss as keenly as she did. He had practically been Andrew’s brother. She hastened to continue, “I have only returned to Society in the last eighteen months or so.”
“Yes,” he said, drawing out the word with a look of concern on his face. “And?”
“I’ve been doing something of a study of the gentleman and ladies of our acquaintance during that time,” she said.
“I see,” he said. “And what have you determined?”
“I have developed a few theories about matches that end up being successful to both partners.” She smiled. “Not just financially or by linking important families, but by the happiness and affection the couple ultimately develops.”
His mouth twitched. “Are you…in the market for happiness and affection in a match?”
She shook her head. “Gracious no. I had both, you know I did. I am not in a position where I must marry, thanks to the financial protections Andrew put in place for me. I do not think I would ever be tempted to wed again.”
He turned away and paced to the sideboard, where he fiddled with the bottles of liquor lined up along the top. “Then why make a study?”
“For other people,” she burst out.
He stared at her, his expression utterly blank. “I don’t understand.”
She huffed out her breath. “I’m saying that I could successfully match couples who might not have ever thought of each other, if only I could seclude them together in the proper circumstances.”
Cav leaned back. “Play…matchmaker.”
Emily nodded. “Yes. And this is the perfect time of year to do so. The Christmas holidays are just around the corner, and there is romance in every snowflake and cheery red ribbon.”
Cav smiled at her in that indulgent way he sometimes did when she was going on like this. “You should write one of those novels you insist on reading out to me in the winter.”
“Oh, you love them,” she said with a playful scowl. “I intend to have a party out at my estate in Crossfox and invite six ladies—and their chaperones, of course—and six gentlemen. Then I shall see if I can end the party with six very happy couples.”
His eyes went wide and for what felt like an eternity he just stared at her. “A whole party to matchmake these poor unsuspecting people.”
Emily pursed her lips in mild annoyance. “I know you are a resigned bachelor, Cav, and an unrepentant rake, but you act as if I intend to do something horrible to them.”
“No. Just force them into each other’s arms,” Cav muttered. “And when do you propose to do this thing?”
“We will start the day after Christmas. Crossfox is so close to London, it isn’t a difficult journey for any of those I intend to invite. I plan twelve days of merriment.”
“Twelve days,” Cav said. “Like the poem.”
“Exactly.” She clapped her hands together. “I know it doesn’t line up exactly with the real twelve days of Christmas.”
“Yes, one whole day off the true timeline. What will the scholars think?”
She laughed. “They will have to forgive me and say it’s close enough. I have so many plans for each day and the fun that can be had with the poem.”
“Wait, you are proceeding with the theme of the Twelve Days of Christmas?”
She tilted her head. “Of course! What could be more festive?”
“There are a great many birds in that poem, Emily,” he said. “So, so many birds.”
She folded her arms. “And I will manage them all. It will be enchanting.”
He chuckled again. “Of course it will be. With you in charge, how could it be anything but?”
Also by Jess Michaels
* * *
The Duke’s By-Blows
The Love of a Libertine
The Heart of a Hellion
The Matter of a Marquess
The Shelley Sisters
A Reluctant Bride
A Reckless Runaway
A Counterfeit Courtesan
The Scandal Sheet
The Return of Lady Jane
Stealing the Duke
Lady No Says Yes
My Fair Viscount
Guarding the Countess
The House of Pleasure
The 1797 Club
The Daring Duke
Her Favorite Duke
The Broken Duke
The Silent Duke
The Duke of Nothing
The Undercover Duke
The Duke of Hearts
The Duke Who Lied
The Duke of Desire
The Last Duke
Seasons
An Affair in Winter
A Spring Deception
One Summer of Surrender
Adored in Autumn
The Wicked Woodleys
Forbidden
Deceived
Tem
pted
Ruined
Seduced
Fascinated
The Notorious Flynns
The Other Duke
The Scoundrel’s Lover
The Widow Wager
No Gentleman for Georgina
A Marquis for Mary
To see a complete listing of Jess Michaels’ titles, please visit:
http://www.authorjessmichaels.com/books
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author Jess Michaels likes geeky stuff, Vanilla Coke Zero, anything coconut, cheese, fluffy cats, smooth cats, any cats, many dogs and people who care about the welfare of their fellow humans. She is lucky enough to be married to her favorite person in the world and lives in the heart of Dallas, TX where she's trying to eat all the amazing food in the city.
When she’s not obsessively checking her steps on Fitbit or trying out new flavors of Greek yogurt, she writes historical romances with smoking hot alpha males and sassy ladies who do anything but wait to get what they want. She has written for numerous publishers and is now fully indie and loving every moment of it (well, almost every moment).
Jess loves to hear from fans! So please feel free to contact her in any of the following ways (or carrier pigeon):
www.AuthorJessMichaels.com
Email: [email protected]
Jess Michaels raffles a gift certificate EVERY month to members of her newsletter, so sign up on her website:
http://www.AuthorJessMichaels.com/
The Redemption of a Rogue: The Duke’s By-Blows Book 4 Page 24
