Love is Come (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Heather B. Moore

  Mathew realized he’d stopped walking and was simply staring now. He had to move. Slowly, he turned and scanned the gathering. He knew most of the people here, and yet, he felt completely apart from them all. Was he the only one whose mind was in utter turmoil?

  “Mathew,” he heard a man say, and he turned around, coming face-to-face with Patrick. But Mathew couldn’t have been more surprised to see Nelle also, standing by Patrick’s side.

  “We were discussing Beethoven’s music and some of his theories,” Patrick said, “when I told Nelle that you were more knowledgeable on the subject than I.”

  Mathew stared at Patrick, feeling stunned. What was Patrick talking about? Mathew looked at Nelle, and she seemed truly interested in what he might say. Would this reestablish a friendship between them?

  “I am probably more of a music appreciator than an expert on theory,” Mathew said. He didn’t know what Patrick was up to, but he appreciated it. Looking right at Nelle, Mathew added, “I suppose you could say when I hear a piece played, I know right away if I like it.” He held her gaze until a faint blush rose to her cheeks.

  “Doesn’t she play well?” Patrick prompted.

  Mathew blinked against the trance that seemed to be overtaking his senses. “She plays beautifully,” he said. “Will you be playing tonight?”

  She pressed her lips together, and Mathew couldn’t tell whether she was disappointed or relieved. “I am not. It seems we’ll be regaled with poetry instead.”

  Patrick shook his head. “I’d much rather hear Nelle play.”

  Mathew kept his gaze on hers, hoping she could read the look of apology in his eyes. “I agree.”

  Her mouth opened to reply, but she quickly shut it as if she’d changed her mind. Before he could say anything else, a woman’s voice cut through the crowd’s conversations.

  “Attention, everyone,” the woman said. “Please take your seats. We are about to begin our recital.”

  Murmurs arose, and voices hushed as everyone moved into the main room. They sat in rows of chairs that were set up in a crescent formation. Mathew found that from his position, he only had to turn his head slightly to see where Nelle was sitting, between her aunt and Patrick. He also scanned for Alice and spotted her on the front row with the other guests who would be performing. Mathew wasn’t surprised to see Alice sat next to Lucien.

  Lucien was introduced first, but Mathew barely heard the accolades mentioned about him since Mathew was focused on nonchalantly observing Nelle. The color was high in her cheeks, and she kept her chin lifted as if she were determined to prove something…

  As Lucien stood to recite his poetry, Mathew found himself watching Alice more than he paid attention to the poet. If there was one word for Alice’s expression, it would have to be enraptured. She seemed completely entranced by each word. Mathew realized she was even mouthing some of the words. Has she read Lucien’s poetry before? Mathew wondered, and then felt another bit of his heart harden.

  When Lucien finished to a round of applause, Alice stood and took her place at the front of the room. She glanced down at the notepaper in her hand then looked back up, her gaze on Lucien. As Alice announced what she would be reciting, Mathew looked around the room to see if anyone else noticed how much attention Alice was paying to the poet. His gaze met Nelle’s, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.

  Had Nelle been watching him? Perhaps there is a chance for a friendship between us after all. Although, as soon as Mathew thought this, he knew it was impossible. He was in too much danger of falling in love with Nelle, so it was best he keep his distance.

  Then Alice’s voice floated over the audience, clear and strong:

  My heart is like a singing bird

  Whose nest is in a watered shoot;

  My heart is like an apple-tree

  Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit…

  As Alice continued, Mathew’s gaze once again strayed to Nelle. She was watching him. As their eyes met, she again blushed. But this time she didn’t look away. Alice’s words floated in and out of Mathew’s mind, becoming increasingly personal.

  My heart is like a rainbow shell

  That paddles in a halcyon sea;

  My heart is gladder than all these

  Because my love is come to me.

  Mathew couldn’t explain the silent conversation happening between himself and Nelle. It was as if no one else were in the room—nothing but the two of them and the words of the poem: my love is come to me.

  And then Mathew knew—without a doubt—that Nelle felt something for him. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what to do about it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nelle chastised herself for picking the poem Alice was now so sweetly reading, for Nelle had caught Mathew’s gaze on herself more than once since the poetry recitations had started. But her own eyes continued to be drawn toward him—against her will. The words seemed to float into her mind and take over her subconscious. Every word of the poem felt like it was about her heart, his heart…their hearts.

  Work it in gold and silver grapes,

  In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;

  Because the birthday of my life

  Is come, my love is come to me.

  Nelle did not realize she was staring back at Mathew, almost silently speaking to him, until the clapping started. She blinked and turned her head toward the front. Alice was looking right at her. She had an odd expression on her face, as if Alice could read Nelle’s thoughts. But that’s impossible, Nelle told herself, for she had just been gazing at Mathew and thinking things she shouldn’t have been.

  Alice gave a little curtsy with a broad smile. Her eyes flickered back to Nelle, and Nelle felt her face heat up. She clapped and smiled, not daring to look back at Mathew again—the man who best be forgotten.

  Patrick started speaking to her, so Nelle gave him her full attention. Soon she was caught up in a conversation with those sitting next to them about a traveling circus troupe that was supposed to be coming to their town in a few days.

  Later, the chairs were moved to the sides of the room, and a small orchestra started playing music. As several couples took to the dance floor, Patrick asked Nelle to dance. She gladly accepted, feeling happy the time would pass quickly after all. Then she saw that Alice and Lucien were dancing. But Nelle purposely refused to look around for Mathew.

  “What did you think of my cousin’s poetry?” Patrick asked her.

  But Nelle hadn’t been listening to Lucien’s recitation as carefully as she should have. “It must be very exciting to have a published poet in the family.”

  Patrick smiled, though it didn’t extend to his eyes. “I’m happy for him, but I think my mother and Alice are more pleased even than Lucien is.”

  “Have you ever written poetry?” Nelle asked.

  Patrick laughed, a short, abrupt sound. “Not even close, except for what I was forced to come up with at the university. I’m a crop man like Mathew. We both live and die by the soil and the rain.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Nelle said, meaning this in the most genuine way.

  But a shadow crossed Patrick’s face. “It’s not interesting enough for some women, apparently.”

  Nelle followed his gaze. Alice was laughing as she danced in Lucien’s arms. “Alice is a bit flirtatious sometimes.”

  The corners of Patrick’s mouth turned up. “Only sometimes?”

  She returned his smile. “I’m sure she’s proud of your career as well as Mathew’s.”

  “You are a noble cousin,” he said. “But I see what’s going on.”

  Nelle’s heart stuttered with panic. Had Patrick seen her unabashed gaze at Mathew earlier? Could he guess her thoughts right now?

  “What do you mean?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

  “Alice is trying to make Mathew envious.”

  Nelle stared at Patrick, not believing him. “Do you think so?”

  “It’s quite obvious,�
� he continued. “She’s been flirting with Lucien all evening. And that day we had tea at your aunt’s home, she was flirting with me.”

  Nelle swallowed against her dry throat. She’d thought Alice was being Alice: acting as if life were at her fingertips and men were at her bidding. Could Alice really be trying to get Mathew’s attention in this twisted way? And if so, why? Wasn’t Mathew going to propose tonight?

  Perhaps that was why Nelle allowed herself to pay attention to Mathew tonight. After tonight, he’d be engaged—as good as married.

  The dance number ended, and Patrick said, “Would you care for a glass of wine? We can take it outside.”

  Nelle agreed and walked with him to the refreshments table. They greeted people along the way. She recognized a few of them, although she couldn’t quite recall their names.

  Patrick handed her the glass of wine, and she took a small sip before following him out onto the terrace. The breeze was cool, but refreshing. A few other guests milled about, and three couples were dancing to the music coming from inside. Others had wandered out into the gardens beyond, and Nelle could guess why they wanted their privacy.

  She and Patrick crossed to a bench and sat down. Nelle was grateful for this respite from watching Alice and Lucien together and wondering where Mathew might be.

  “Will you return to the city after the summer?” Patrick asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “A friend of mine is getting married, then I will probably stay with my uncle in my old house.” It felt strange to think of the home she’d grown up in all her life as her old house.

  “What is your age, if you don’t mind me asking?” Patrick said.

  Nelle glanced over at him, not sure if she liked the appraising gleam in his eyes. She was about to answer, when she was interrupted.

  “The perfect age. Right, Nelle?” Mathew said as he came and stood before them, his head tilted as he looked down at her.

  “Mathew,” Nelle said, not liking how breathless she suddenly sounded.

  “Will you dance with me?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Nelle knew she should refuse, that she should keep Alice in mind. Besides, Patrick was watching her, and what would he think? A harmless dance with Mathew wouldn’t be so harmless…But her mind wasn’t listening to reason as she stood and placed her hand in his. Patrick said something to her, and she was pretty sure she bid him good-bye and thanked him, but she wasn’t positive.

  She and Mathew danced on the terrace, their hands linked, his arm around her waist, and his breath soft above her head. She didn’t look at him for a while, didn’t say anything. She was worried that Alice would see them and become upset, especially if Alice was working hard at making Mathew jealous with all her flirting. Or…maybe…Alice was sincere in her attentions to Lucien.

  But it didn’t matter what games were being played between the two of them, Nelle had to stay true to herself. That meant she shouldn’t be dancing with her cousin’s intended.

  Nelle looked up at Mathew, aware of his every movement, his every exhaled breath. His eyes were a deep gray tonight, darker than her dress. Goose pimples broke out on her skin as she remembered the words of the poem Alice had read.

  “Mathew, I don’t think—”

  “Wait,” he said, steering her toward the gardens’ entrance. “Let’s talk in private.”

  She should have said no, said good-bye right then, but she didn’t. Instead, she let him lead her by the hand along the garden paths, turning when they saw other people on a path up ahead. They stopped when they reached a place behind a trellis of climbing ivy. Lanterns on poles had been placed throughout the gardens to create a warm, light-filled ambience against the dark sky.

  “Nelle, I must tell you something,” Mathew said, taking hold of both her hands.

  Her pulse hammered so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

  “I don’t know what’s come over me since you arrived this summer,” Mathew continued. “But all of my thoughts are filled with you.”

  “No,” Nelle whispered, not wanting him to speak these words that she couldn’t allow. Only disaster could come of them.

  “I can’t marry Alice,” he said, swallowing hard as if he were equally as surprised at his declaration as she.

  Nelle drew away from him, tugging her hands out of his grasp. He couldn’t mean this. Her heart soared and felt trampled on all in the same moment.

  He stepped toward her, touching her face with one hand. Lifting his other hand, he cradled her face. “It’s you I’m in love with, Nelle. How can I go against that?”

  Scenes flashed before Nelle’s eyes: One of Alice’s hurt expression. One of Aunt Corinne’s anger. One of Nelle’s shame for this ultimate betrayal to her cousin. They were her only family now, and she couldn’t do this to them.

  “No, Mathew,” Nelle said in a soft, but firm voice. “You’re feelings are a passing fancy…like mine are.”

  Mathew’s eyes brightened. “So, you are admitting that you—”

  “I am admitting that we aren’t thinking of the consequences, and we aren’t living in reality.” She waved her hand. “Look around us—a beautiful garden, lanterns, a starry sky. But tomorrow the sun will come up, and you’ll go to the fields, and I’ll still be living under my aunt’s roof. This will only bring pain to all of our loved ones.”

  Mathew held her gaze as if he were trying to read her true thoughts. Then he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he said, “The pain will fade. Alice will find another beau easily. And you and I can be happy.”

  This sounded like a lovely plan, but fear had woven its way into Nelle. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t be responsible for breaking my cousin’s and aunt’s hearts. I’ll be leaving for the city right after my birthday, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be coming back.”

  Mathew moved even closer, his hands intertwining with hers again. But this time she didn’t draw away. She could only think of the moment, of his touch, and of his warm breath upon her skin.

  “Can I not change your mind?” Mathew whispered.

  She shook her head as tears budded in her eyes.

  “May I kiss you once before saying good-bye forever?” he asked.

  Nelle didn’t have to think twice, although she knew it shouldn’t have been so easy to give in. She curled her fingers around the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him close as Mathew’s lips met hers. With the music playing in the background and the velvety darkness surrounding them, Nelle slid her hands higher and wrapped her arms about his neck, pressing herself against the planes of his body as she lost herself in this moment with him.

  Mathew’s hands trailed along her back, then settled at her waist, pulling her securely against him. His mouth felt warm and his kisses as urgent as if he were afraid she’d suddenly disappear. And perhaps she would, perhaps she must.

  Mathew’s kisses were nothing like Mitch Barlow’s. Nelle didn’t want to let Mathew go, didn’t want to push him away. She wanted to stay in his arms all night, secreted away in the garden, never to tell him good-bye.

  As Mathew’s kisses slowed and became more deliberate, Nelle moved her fingers into his hair, feeling the soft strands against her skin. Anything that was Mathew’s, she loved—his skin, his hair, his breathing, the way his mouth felt.

  She drew away to breathe, and Mathew lowered his face to whisper into her ear, “We could leave tonight. Travel to wherever we like. Start over.”

  Nelle nestled against his warm neck and breathed in the spice of his skin. She released a sigh that came from the deepest part of her, feeling its effect spread through her whole body—a longing to do as Mathew suggested, to remain in this dreamworld, cocooned by his arms. “If only you didn’t have your responsibilities,” she whispered. “And if only I had an unbroken heart to make a sound decision.”

  His fingers traced a path along her cheek and then her neck. “If your parents hadn’t died, would you be making a different decision?”

  “N
o,” she admitted. “They’d never want me to betray my cousin either.”

  Mathew was silent for a moment, and only the sounds of their breathing were between them. “This is really good-bye, isn’t it?”

  Hot tears formed in Nelle’s eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, lifting her head to kiss his jawline. “You must follow through with your commitment to propose to Alice,” she said. “And I must return to the city and find a new life.”

  Mathew lowered his head and kissed her again, this time without the passionate urgency as before but with a slow tenderness. Her tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she clung to him. When she reluctantly released him, he drew away.

  Combing a hand through his hair, he gave her a sad smile. “Is there anything that would change your mind?”

  She shook her head then wiped at the tears on her face. “That kiss,” she said, looking directly into Mathew’s eyes, “will give me a lifetime’s worth of memories.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mathew was engaged. He couldn’t believe it, but the people around him, offering their congratulations, made it a fact. He’d never felt so elated and so defeated, all in the same evening. When Nelle had disappeared in the garden, he’d spent several moments debating with himself over what he should do. He knew Nelle’s reasoning was correct, even though he felt as if he were being split into two. The kisses they’d shared were unforgettable, which made getting engaged to Alice all the more bitter now.

  Mathew gazed at Alice, telling himself she was a beautiful woman, a woman who his mother was thrilled to have as a daughter-in-law. And most importantly a woman who was willing to marry him. If only…if only, what? If only he’d fallen in love with Nelle before he had committed himself to Alice? If only he hadn’t gone along with everyone’s expectations?

  Alice smiled back at him, her hands clasping his. She turned to accept congratulations from those who’d come forward. Alice embraced Mrs. Greenwood and her daughters, Patrick, and then Lucien.