Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  “We could not help but overhear your conversation earlier, in regards to your search for a wife for the Duke,” Lady Chatterley explained. The Duchess did not take her eyes off Alexandra as she spoke. “Miss Evans is most skilled at finding the right match. Perhaps she could be of assistance.”

  “A matchmaker is what you say you are? And you are the one who made Lady Isabella Brown into the Marchioness of Chatterley?”

  “Indeed, I am. I am also the one who created the match between the Duke of Glowester and Lady Mary Hester, the daughter of the Marquess of Dunstable. I am responsible for the forthcoming wedding between the Earl of Cheshire and the daughter of the Earl of Yona. In addition…” The Duchess raised her hand.

  “I understand. You are very accomplished.” She thought for one moment. “Those are indeed magnificent matches and I must admit, I fear I may lack the stamina to thoroughly examine each prospective lady that may wish to wed the Duke. Perhaps employing a matchmaker would be simpler. Especially one who appears skillful enough to receive an invitation to Almack’s, as a commoner at that.”

  She took a sip of tea, watching Alexandra carefully over the rim of the cup. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief when she was done and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Alright. I shall arrange a meeting between myself, the Duke, and you. We will discuss the requirements for a wife. As you can imagine, she would have to be of impeccable upbringing, unquestionable reputation, educated, well-mannered, and have a significant dowry. I would expect someone from a respectable family. Does this sound like too much for you? I’d rather you tell me now that waste our time with …”

  “Your Grace, excuse me for the interruption, but I already have a young lady in mind that I believe is an ideal candidate.”

  “Oh?”

  Alexandra leaned back with a cup of tea and sipped, a wide grin on her face.

  “I believe, Your Grace, you will find the young lady a perfect match for your son. Are you familiar with the Earl of Cladbourough?”

  The Duchess eyes widened with surprise. “Why, of course. He is but one of the most respected members of the House of Lords. A strong man, very resourceful.”

  “Well, as it happens, his daughter, a lovely, well-educated young lady, has just recently become a client of mine and is in search of a suitable husband. I believe your son just might be it.”

  The Duchess leaned back, teacup in hand and a sly smile on her face. “Well, that is very fortunate indeed. Now we must only convince my son of this match and all shall be well.”

  “Fret not, Your Grace. I will ensure the match is successful. As are all my matches.” Well, most of them. We shan’t speak of the unfortunate incident with the governess…

  Alexandra looked at Lady Chatterley who’d watched the exchange with interest.

  “Indeed,” the Lady confirmed. “Indeed, they are.”

  * * *

  Alexandra spent the rest of the evening feeling rather pleased with herself. Not only would she be able to present Lord Cladborough with a match for his daughter when she met him later in the week, but she’d impressed the Duchess of Gatterlen enough to earn herself an introduction to several other ladies at the ball. This in turn resulted in her recruiting a small but impressive roster of new clients.

  By the time she left for the night, Evans United Hearts had gained four new lady clients, an earl, and two wealthy viscounts. In addition to the duke who was, of course, the biggest accomplishment of the evening. She would be very busy for the next few weeks. However, her focus had to be on the Duke of Gatterlen and Lady Frances. This match had to be a success, for it would cement her reputation and ensure her future. Perhaps she’d even be able to purchase a property closer to Mayfair and increase her visibility among the upper class.

  Chapter 4

  Maxwell sat in the armchair in the corner of the room, a cup of tea in hand and the paper on his lap. He was not interested in reading, but it kept the other gentlemen from approaching him. It was, after all, most impolite to disturb a man at his reading.

  That afternoon, he was to meet the matchmaker and make arrangements to meet the lady he was to court. He was well aware there were many ins and out to courting and he figured he would do well on his own, but the matchmaker wanted to meet to explain the proper procedure.

  “The young lady cannot be put in a position that could tarnish her reputation, my dear. After all, should this match fail for whatever reason, she will be required to seek another.” His mother had been in his ear much of the day about his duties when it came to courting. He was already regretting agreeing to this, but he could not say no. Not after what had happened to his mother.

  Mother surely knows how to pressure me into doing her bidding. It’s rather ironic that I had already decided to let her find me a wife before the incident with the Luddites. Of course, now, I shall never hear the end of it. She’ll be using the incident every time she wants to make me feel guilty or get her way.

  “Gatterlen!” A voice rose from behind him and Maxwell looked around. His friend, Viscount Hendley, appeared with a glass of ale in his hand and sat opposite him. “Join me for a game of Whist!”

  Maxwell shook his head. “I would rather not, Hendley. I’m content having a quiet moment.”

  “A quiet moment?” His friend scoffed and pushed his floppy blond hair out of his face. “Who comes to White’s to have a quiet moment? Really, Gatterlen, what is the matter? Ah – wait! Shall we make a wager? I bet I can figure out what is bothering you.”

  Maxwell tilted his head sideways and glared at him. “If I had known assisting you in attaining membership at this club would lead to you spending all your time gambling and placing wagers, I might have thought twice about it.”

  “How else am I to rebuild my fortunes?”

  Maxwell shrugged and took a drink. Lord Hendley had been one of his closest friends since boyhood. Unlike Maxwell, Lord Hendley was never meant to carry the title, until a tragedy took his family leaving him not only the heir, but also penniless.

  Maxwell had tried to help his friend become accustomed to his new position as best he could, but there was only so much he could do. Hendley had decided the best way to rebuild his family’s fortunes was to place bets at White’s Gentlemen’s Club. He had been lucky so far, but Maxwell worried about the inevitable turn of his luck. Alas, right now he had other concerns.

  “Now, about the wager! I bet you ten guineas that I can guess, in two tries, what is ailing you.”

  “I can just tell you, Hendley.” His friend laughed out loud.

  “Now, where is the fun in that?” He got up and went to look for an attendant to record the wager, leaving Maxwell to shake his head.

  * * *

  “It is your mother. You feel guilt for what has occurred, and it eats at you still. Am I right?” Lord Hendley sat, legs crossed, in the seat he had left to secure the wager.

  “You are wrong, and you will soon lose your last guineas if you are not careful about which wagers you place and against whom.”

  “Ah, fear not, good friend. I am always careful. Now, if it is not your mother’s experience that worries you, it must be a lady.” He pointed at him with a wide grin on his face.

  “Of sorts. Yes.”

  Hendley clapped his hands together, “Ah, see? I am rather fantastic at this wagering business! Now, who is this lady that is causing you such misery and why have I not heard about her yet?”

  “It is not any particular lady, Hendley. I promised my mother I would wed. She has arranged to meet with a matchmaker later today who has a lady in mind for me. I am to be informed of all the proper courting etiquette and then arrange a meeting with the young lady.”

  Hendley grew serious. “You know it is your duty to wed and provide an heir to carry forth the family line. We all must do so, or we risk losing not just the peerage, but our homes.”

  “I know what my duty is, this is why I agreed to it. Now I wish I had not. My dear Hendley, I dread me
eting the matchmaker and even more so the woman she has chosen for me. I fear I will make a terrible husband, for I never desired to wed. How can any lady be happy to be wed to me?”

  Maxwell shook his head. He did not often speak his mind nor reveal his true feelings, but Lord Hendley was his trusted confidant and he knew he could tell him anything. His friend’s blue eyes appeared to water over as he thought of an answer. When he did, his voice was heavy.

  “Gatterlen. A marriage, though it is our duty, is much more than that. Although marriage is more about prosperity than love for our class, who is to say you will not fall for the woman the matchmaker selects? Who’s to say you cannot find happiness? You may find with the right lady, being a husband will feel quite natural to you. After all, what is a life worth if we cannot share it with someone we can love?”

  Maxwell stared at his friend. He had no idea he was such a romantic at heart. He knew Lord Hendley was soft-hearted and prone to fits of emotion, but this deep-felt desire for love was new to Maxwell.

  “You surprise me, my friend. I had not known you feel this way.”

  The young man shrugged. “It is a desire I have always carried inside but since the fire… Since my family was taken from me in such a disastrous fashion, I have felt it even more. I would love to meet a lovely lady to share my life with.”

  Maxwell felt for his friend. Not only had he lost his family in a terrible fire not long ago, he was also saddled with debts his father had made. He wished there was something he could do for his friend.

  “If only I could send you to the matchmaker in my stead.” Lord Hendley ordered a glass of ale and then, to Maxwell’s surprise, made a confession.

  “I have already visited a matchmaker. A Miss Evans of Evans United Hearts. I have waited for a suitable match for some time, alas, no luck.”

  Evans United Hearts? Maxwell sat up. Wasn’t that the name of the business mother spoke of?

  “I believe she is the one I am to see. On Foxberry Lane.”

  Hendley’s eyes lit up. “That is correct! Rest assured, Miss Evans is rather accomplished at her skill.”

  “She does not appear very skillful, given that you are still unwed.” This was perhaps unkind, Maxwell was aware.

  “I do not fault her for it. I am not a desirable match for anyone. I have a family home that is half burnt to the ground, I have considerable debts, and even my London home is mortgaged. Any matchmaker would be hard-pressed to find me a match. Alas, Miss Evans never fails to try and gives me monthly updates on her progress. I am sure once my fortune turns, she will find me a wonderful lady. Besides, she did make a good match for Sophie, despite all the troubles.”

  “Oh, she is the one who arranged the wedding to Baron Temberly for Sophie? Indeed, a good match. As for me, I do not believe I would ever be a good companion for anyone, but perhaps this Miss Evans can prove me wrong. I shall attend the appointment with an open mind. It is too late to back out anyhow. My mother would be all the sixes and sevens if I did and I would never hear the end of it. Now,” he clapped his hands together. “I hear they are playing a round of Snapdragon upstairs. Shall we try our luck?”

  Chapter 5

  “Miss Evans, I am so pleased with this match. I can’t thank you enough,” Lady Frances’s face was aglow with excitement. Beside her, her father, the Earl, stood rather stoically, a scowl on his pale face.

  “Now, now, Frances. Let us not get ahead of ourselves. Miss Evans has yet to secure the Duke’s agreement to the courtship.”

  “I am certain the Duke will agree, My Lord. After all, it is a formidable match.” And it needs to work for my sake as much as anyone else’s. Alexandra smiled widely at the Earl, who continued to scowl and anxiously stepped from one foot onto the other.

  “If you say so. You appear rather confident. I should expect to hear by the end of the day?”

  “Of course.”

  “Given the dowry I am to provide, the Duke had better agree to the terms. Now. I have business to attend to. Come, Frances. Let us leave Miss Evans to do her job. And do it well.” What a miserable fellow.

  “I look forward to speaking with you soon, My Lord.”

  He gave her a curt nod and departed.

  “Do not mind my father, Miss Evans. He has always been a dour fellow. Know that I am most excited to meet the Duke. I cannot wait. I heard his Estate in Kent is just lovely. I wonder if perhaps we might go there one day and talk a walk around the lake. With you as our chaperone, of course.”

  Alexandra smiled. Lady Frances was a tad too excited for her liking. She had yet to meet with the Duke and his mother, the Duchess, to secure his agreement to the match. The Duchess of Gatterlen had been impressed when Alexandra presented Lady Frances as an option, but unless the Duke agreed to the match, the courtship could not begin.

  “I promise to do my best to secure the match with the Duke. Once I have met with him and the Duchess, I will send a messenger so a formal introduction can be made.”

  “Thank you ever so much, Miss Evans.”

  Lady Frances followed her father and Alexandra watched as they boarded their carriage and drove away.

  * * *

  Alexandra exited the carriage outside the large mansion located right in the middle of Mayfair.

  She paid the jarvey his fee and strolled along the road until she came upon Woodley House, the London townhome of the Duke of Gatterlen. Unlike most houses on the street, it had a striking red front door, making it stand out against the homes on either side. It had a beautiful parkland stone façade and the wrought iron fence that surrounded it was a deep shade of blue. She noted that the house was slightly larger than the others on the block, no wonder. The Dukes of Gatterlen had always been among the richest peers in the country.

  Alexandra glanced up and noted that Woodley House was the standard three stories. This somewhat took her by surprise, for many of the upper class had been adding a fourth story to their homes in order to further showcase their status.

  She climbed the few steps at the front of the house and knocked. As she stood and waited, she noticed two small sphinx statues on either side of the door. Potted plants were lined on either side of the terrace. When the butler opened the door, he frowned at her.

  “Good day. I am Alexandra Evans. I have an appointment to see His Grace and the Duchess.” She handed him her calling card which he glanced at, and then motioned for her to enter.

  “Please, follow me.”

  He stepped aside and allowed her to enter the lobby. Alexandra had been in quite a few mansions in her time as a matchmaker though this townhouse was much more lavish and exuberant than most. The floor was of magnificent black and white marble with pillars on either end of the entrance. She spotted more statues on either side of the grand staircase. The home truly was breathtaking.

  As she waited to be announced, she glanced around the large space. To her right, facing the street, was the dining room. She took a step forward and craned her neck to look inside. A finely carved marble fireplace was at the far end of the room and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. She could not see much more of the room as the door blocked her view, but she thought she spotted mahogany furniture, another display of the Duke’s wealth. Before she had a chance to look around further, the butler returned from upstairs.

  “Her Grace is presently occupied... She will be with you shortly. I will show you to her dressing room once she is available. You may take a seat and wait for her.” He motioned toward the gilded chair that sat against the wall next to the dining room entrance. The upholstery was a fine red velvet. Alexandra walked to the chair, her steps echoing as she went.

  She sat, hands folded in front of her, and waited. She did not enjoy waiting around. Usually, when she called upon her clients, they were keen to see her, and she was not made to wait. The Duchess was a rather head-strong woman who liked things done her way. Alexandra didn’t doubt the Duchess was making her wait on purpose.

  Her gaze fell on the silver salver wh
ich was placed on a table next to her chair. She scanned the names on the calling cards. She recognized the names and noted that almost all of the Duke’s visitors were the most influential and highest-ranking members of the ton.

  As Alexandra waited, she took note of the hustle and bustle in the house. Servants could be seen entering the dining room, setting the table for a dinner party. This was not unusual. During the Season, most nobles held dinner parties several times per week, often in concert with a ball. As the servants entered the dining room Alexandra took the opportunity to peek further inside. She’d been right, fine mahogany chairs surrounded a finely ornamented table. The walls were adorned with crystal wall sconces and she spotted the family crest displayed on the wall opposite the windows.

  Before she could examine the room more, one of the servants closed the door, in a rather rude manner.