Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  Maxwell rushed toward the steward.

  “What is it?”

  James was pale and out of breath.

  “It’s the Duchess. She’s been injured. You must come at once!”

  Mother? What could possibly have happened to her between leaving the house and now?

  As his heart pounded with panic, Maxwell ran alongside James toward the front of the house.

  Chapter 3

  Alexandra sat on the floor, her calling cards spread out in front of her like a puzzle. She’d just added one for the Lady Frances. It read Daughter of Earl of Cladborough. Must marry above her station. Must marry wealthy gentleman. She’d left a space where she could write down the potential dowry the prospective husband could expect. This was not part of her usual duties but it often helped her because if the dowry was below the standard sum, certain gentlemen were reluctant to even consider a woman.

  Beneath the requirements for Lady Frances’s match, she’d added a line Lady wants to marry for love, but duty is first. Kind, generous man to share her life with. She sighed. The wants never outweigh the needs, of course. She glanced at her cards again and picked one up when someone disturbed her by banging on the door. Frustrated, she rose, calling card in hand. When she opened the door, it was none other than Mr. Holmes, come to fetch his groceries.

  “Have I called on you at an inopportune moment? I can return at a later time if it suits better.”

  “Don’t be a silly goose. Come on.” She waved him in and rushed to the kitchen, followed by the old man. “Here are your items I fetched from the market.” She handed him the basket when his glance fell on the calling card. He tiled his head to ready.

  “Viscount Hendley? Have you found a match for that dear boy?”

  She shook her head. Her light brown curls hung loose around her face. Not a look she would usually present to the world, but she had not been expecting company at this late hour. She led Mr. Holmes back to her office where he took a seat in her stuffed chair.

  “I wish. He is a lovely fellow.” She picked up the card for Lady Frances. “I have the perfect match, where it not for one problem.”

  “Lord Hendley’s precarious financial situation?”

  Alexandra nodded. Lord Hendley was not on her priorities list for matches simply because he was in a terrible financial position and not known to handle his estate well. No wonder, he had not been raised to inherit the title. He had not been the heir apparent or even second in line.

  In fact, three brothers were ahead of him to inherit the estate and he had spent his life enjoying his family’s wealth, living the life of a dandy. That was until one night a fire broke out at their home, Westerly Castle, and the entire family perished save for Lord Hendley and his two younger sisters, who were on a visit to their maternal grandparents in Derbyshire.

  Suddenly orphaned and in charge of the family, Lord Hendley had done his best to take on the responsibility. Abandoning his dandy ways, he’d begun to rebuild. However, due to the cost of renovating the castle along with some unfortunate business dealings his father had undertaken, the good Lord found himself under much financial strain.

  With Alexandra’s help, he’d been able to find a match for his sister Sophie which took quite an effort, given that he could not provide a large dowry. His other sister was also a client of Alexandra’s but given her young age, sixteen years old at present, there was no rush. Alexandra hoped by the time she was of age, the viscount may have rebuilt his fortune.

  “It is such a shame. He would be ideal for Lady Frances. He is a lover of nature and music, as is she. He has a sharp mind and enjoys good conversation, as does she. If only he were at least an earl and still had his fortune.” She sighed heavily and returned the calling card to the pile.

  “Perhaps if you give it some time. He may well continue to prosper and be suitable then.”

  “No, they do not wish to wait. The Earl left a rather stern note with his requirements and one of the notations was that I must find a match quickly. He wishes to host a wedding before the end of the year, by beginning of next Season for sure.”

  Mr. Holmes’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? He’s rather in a rush, isn’t he?”

  Alexandra nodded; she’d felt the same way. She’d only glanced at the note Lady Frances had given her at the start of her visit. Since Lady Frances’s departure, she’d had more time to read the Earl’s demands in detail. He’d given a tight deadline.

  “I do not have anybody matching the description among my clients. Oh, Mr. Holmes, what if I do not find a good match? This is my chance. Lord Cladborough is such a high-profile man; making a successful match for his daughter would make my name known across all of London. Everyone would come here. Evans’s United Hearts would be the number one matchmaking agency at last, just like I promised Mother it would be.”

  The old man heaved himself out of the chair and joined her on the floor. His joints cracked as he did so.

  “Your mother would be ever so proud of you. If you match this girl or not, she wouldn’t care. She’d see only the hard work you are putting in, putting yourself last, as always. Now, perhaps I can help.”

  “You?” She appreciated the offer, but how would an elderly jeweler be able to assist her?

  “Yes, me, my dear. Do not look so surprised. As luck would have it, I have recently become acquainted with the Duchess of Marlborough. You may know that she is one of the Lady Patronesses at Almack’s on King’s Street.”

  This did indeed interest Alexandra a great deal. Almack’s was an exclusive establishment where balls were hosted on a weekly basis. It was also a huge marriage hub. Many eligible bachelors attended the club in order to find a match and, in turn, many potential brides frequented the balls. For a matchmaker, it was the perfect atmosphere to attain clients. Alexandra had, for a number of years, attempted to obtain a voucher for Almack’s, but because of her low standing in society, she had not received an invitation. It was near impossible to be admitted, even if just for one ball.

  “Go on,” she urged Mr. Holmes, who had a habit of dragging stories out unnecessarily.

  “Well, I was able to procure for her a rather precious stone she had been after for some time, and she is ever so grateful. She called to collect it yesterday and I so happened to mention that I had a young lady neighbor who has a keen interest in joining Almack’s.”

  “She knows very well who I am. I have applied many a time, only to be rejected each time. I am not rich enough, or powerful enough, to register.”

  They might hire me to secure their futures, but I’ll never be seen as their equal. Never good enough to be allowed into a place like Almack’s. Or has Mr. Holmes managed to bring about a miracle?

  The old man smiled. “Well, I believe if you were to apply again, you may find your application will be approved this time. Would it not be most fortunate if you were able to attend the upcoming ball? It will only be the third ball of the Season, and many a bachelor will be there, no doubt grateful for your services.”

  It would indeed be wonderful. Alexandra went to bed that night with a feeling of relief in her belly. If Mr. Holmes was true to his word, and she was able to visit Almack’s, she’d possibly be able to find not just the perfect match for Lady Frances, but many other new clients.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Alexandra found herself exiting the hackney on King’s Street. She paid the jarvey and walked half a block. She’d exited the coach early on purpose, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that she did not arrive in her own carriage as everyone else did. It was dark and, as she glanced up, she saw the evening sky where the smog had given way to the stars. It was beautiful.

  Supper at Almack’s was served at 11 p.m. and she had it on good authority that she was not to be late. After 11 p.m., nobody would be admitted, no matter their status. She clutched the voucher she’d received from the Duchess. It was good for the month of April only, rather than for the entire Season. Alexandra did not mind. She could do what sh
e had to in one night, if necessary.

  When she arrived at the entrance, the street was lined with carriages. Women and men in their finest attire could be observed strolling in and out of the building. She approached the door and saw two women meticulously checking the vouchers. Her heart sank when she saw how carefully each new arrival was inspected. Due to her lack of funds, she could not afford a gown as lovely as those she saw on many of the ladies.

  She was dressed in a rather simple white gown with a lace overlay and matching white, elbow-length gloves. If one did not look too closely, one would not notice that the dress was made from a cheap material. Not by a seamstress either. Her mother had made it for her, straining her eyes in the candlelight with the hope that Alexandra would one day wish to find herself a husband and would have occasion to wear a dress like this. Well, tonight, she did.

  Upon entering the hall, she found herself under intense scrutiny from the Lady Patronesses at the entrance. It was only lucky that she had a voucher signed by the Duchess of Marlborough, for she was by far the most popular and powerful of the ladies.

  Alexandra roamed the halls, recognizing many of the attendants. Some were clients who appeared rather surprised to see her there. This was not the type of environment you expected to meet your matchmaker.

  “Miss Evans?” She turned around and recognized Lady Chatterley. The lady was dressed in a fine gown which had room for her growing belly. “What a pleasure to see you twice in one month! I would not have expected to see you here!”

  Alexandra smiled, “I received a most unexpected opportunity by way of the Duchess of Marlborough.”

  “Ah, say no more. Well, what good fortune. You will certainly find a great number of bachelors and ladies in need of your services. I would be happy to assist. Or perhaps this time, you are in search of a husband of your own?”

  “Oh, goodness gracious, no! I would rather end up a spinster than to ever wed!” The words shot out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Lady Chatterley’s eyes were the size of saucers and Alexandra feared she’d done real damage to her reputation. To her great relief, the woman broke into a fit of laughter.

  “A matchmaker, and such a skillful one at that, and she doesn’t want to find a husband for herself. You are a riot, Miss Evans.”

  Alexandra was surprised when Lady Chatterley took her by the arm and proceeded to walk her around the building. Supper was being served in one room of the great mansion while another was reserved for dancing.

  “Lady Frances informed me she called upon you and that you were of great comfort to her.” They stopped in the dance hall and watched the proceedings.

  “She is a lovely young woman. I intend to find a match for her to rival your own.”

  “You sound confident.”

  Alexandra looked at the woman. “I am. And judging by your own match, I believe you agree.” Lady Chatterley nodded.

  “Certainly.” She pointed at a man on the dancefloor, dressed in a blue and white striped waistcoat under his jacket. “Lord Pendelton is in search of a wife. I’ve heard him talk of it earlier today. Odd fellow, but rich.” Lady Chatterley continued to point out various eligible bachelors and bachelorettes on the dancefloor while Alexandra paid close attention. That was, until something caught her attention.

  “Oh, how elated I am. The Duke has agreed to allow me to look for a suitable woman for him. At long last.”

  The voice belonged to an older woman who sat to the right of her, encircled by three other ladies of similar age. The speaker, with her gray hair pinned up and silver and gold embroidered lappets running down the back of her head, had a curious facial color. Alexandra squinted to see better. The right side of her face, around the eyes, appeared to be a rather odd black and blue, as if she’d had a bruise there and attempted to cover it up—badly.

  “That is such wonderful new, Duchess!”

  “Indeed! And all it took was for me to be viciously attacked by Luddites on my way to high tea!” The woman laughed, although Alexandra did not find it particularly funny.

  “Do you have a lucky lady in mind?”

  “Oh, if only it were so easy. I have to be most careful with my selection. I do not wish to bring a social climber into the family, or one of ill repute. And then there is the matter of the Duke. He is of such a sour composition when it comes to marriage, I fear it will be a taxing undertaking.”

  Alexandra turned to her companion.

  “Is that the Duchess of Gatterlen?”

  Lady Chatterley nodded.

  “Indeed, it is. Did you hear about the unfortunate event? How terrifying.”

  Alexandra had indeed heard. She’d read about it in the paper. Some weeks ago, the Duchess had been on her way to tea when a group of Luddites stopped her carriage on the road, extracted the lady and tossed her on the ground. As it turned out, they had been waiting for her son, the Duke of Gatterlen, a strong opponent to the Luddite cause. Although, what they had intended to do with him once they caught him was unclear. However, evidently upon discovering the carriage contained only the Duke’s mother, they’d abandoned the scene, leaving the Duchess and her driver rather the worse for wear.

  “Terrible story,” Alexandra said but her attention was no longer on the Lady. She was focused now on the Duchess. Lady Chatterley smiled.

  “I can see the wheels in your brain going around and around. Let me introduce you to the Duchess, shall I?”

  “I would much appreciate the introduction, Lady Chatterley.” With that, the two women walked the few steps toward the seating area where the Duchess was holding court. She was in the midst of sipping a cup of tea when she noted them approaching.

  “Ah, Lady Chatterley. How nice to see you.” The Duchess placed her cup and saucer on the table in front of her and motioned for the women to sit. In order to do so, one of the women who had kept the Duchess company was forced to give up her seat, which she did when the Duchess waved her hand. Alexandra took note of this, clearly the Duchess was well aware of her power and influence. Alexandra would have to approach her accordingly.

  “How are you? I was most disturbed to hear of the vile way in which you were treated by those brutes.” The Duchess clutched the pearl necklace she was wearing and closed her eyes.

  Alexandra noted that the bruises on her face were more visible now they were closer to her. The candlelight helped so they were not as prominent, but she could only imagine what the woman looked like in broad daylight. Lady Chatterley sat down to the left of the Duchess, leaving Alexandra to take the seat two removed from her. She noted that she had yet to be introduced.

  While Lady Chatterley was a lovely woman and always kind and appreciated of Alexandra, she was also aware of the social classes which divided them. During her courtship with the Marquess, they had spent a good amount of time together and she’d always enjoyed her time with her. She did sometimes wonder if, had they been of equal social standing, they might have been friends. Alexandra thought they might, but she would never know.

  “It was the most horrid experience. Terribly frightful. I cannot imagine what would have happened if those men had actually found my son in the carriage. What would they have done to him? I don’t wish to imagine.”

  “Dreadful.”

  Alexandra wanted to jump into the conversation, but as she had not been introduced, it would have been improper.

  “Just look at the condition they have left me in,” the Duchess pointed to bruises on her arms. “Dragged me from my own carriage as if I was a common scullery maid.” She sighed heavily but then her gaze fell upon Alexandra. “I do not believe we have met.”

  “Oh, how rude of me. Let me introduce you. This is my …” Lady Chatterley paused awkwardly. No doubt unsure how to introduce Alexandra. “This is Miss Alexandra Evans; she is one of the most formidable matchmakers in all of London.”

  “A matchmaker? At Almack’s? How curious.” The Duchess eyes her, clearly assessing her outfit for clues as to how a commoner had made it past th
e rigorous inspections of the Lady Patronesses.

  “I have the good fortune of being acquainted with the Duchess of Marlborough. She was kind enough to extend me an invitation. She is a most generous woman.”

  And if I ever get the chance to actually meet her, I shall tell her so myself.

  The Duchess rolled her eyes. “Ah. Mary. She has always had the heart of a commoner.”

  Alexandra cleared her throat and forced herself not to let her sharp tongue get in her way, for she had many a cutting response to the Duchess’s cruel remarks. Alas, she was here for business and so had to swallow her words.

  “It may well be that this commoner is the answer to your problems, dearest Duchess,” Alexandra said in the sweetest tone she could muster.

  “Oh?” The old woman picked up her teacup and eyed her as she sipped the tea.