The Misguided Matchmaker (26 page)

“So,
daughter, you’ve had your way after all,” her father said, giving her an
affectionate thump on her back, “and though it’s cost me dearly, I’ve no
regrets. If I’d not embarked on my scheme to make you a countess, I’d never
have won the heart and hand of a fine woman like Lady Ursula.”

Maddy
smiled up at him. “She is truly a lovely lady, and I wish you nothing but
happiness, Papa.”

“And
I you daughter. You’re a clever one for sure; too clever for your own good, to
my way of thinking. I hope, for your sake, this lucky bastard you’re so fond of
is brave enough to take a managing woman like you to wife. For there’s not many
as would do so.”

He
leaned forward, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and whispered in her ear, “If by
chance he should balk at the leg shackles, you have my permission to remind him
you bring an impressive dowry to the marriage bed.”

So
saying, he gathered Lady Ursula on one arm and Caro on the other and departed
the dining room. A few minutes later the servants followed suit, carrying the
still smoking epergne with them.

The
moment Maddy had both prayed for and dreaded had finally arrived. She was alone
with Tristan at last. Suddenly, all her bravado evaporated like a puff of smoke
in a windstorm.

Except
for that one brief moment when he’d kept her father from attacking Viscount
Tinsdale, Tristan had remained so detached from the drama she’d initiated, one
might think it in no way affected him. Even when she’d won her point and the
other men had come forward to declare their undying love for the ladies of
their choice, he had silently retreated to the shadowy window recess at the far
end of the room.

Was
her father right? Had she frightened him off with her managing ways?

As
if to corroborate her suspicion, he stepped from the shadows, his right hand
raised to his forehead in a crisp military salute. “Well done, Madame General.
Wellington himself couldn’t have rallied his troops around him more
effectively. Though in winning the battle, you may well have dealt your own
fortunes a death blow.”

Maddy
tensed, uncertain of his meaning. “I am not normally a managing kind of woman,”
she protested, trying to read his expression. “I only did what had to be done
to stop my father from standing in the way of true love.”

“With
his
infernal managing.” Tristan sighed deeply. “I’m firmly convinced
it’s a family trait. I am also convinced that had you decided to try your hand
at managing the French army, Bonaparte would even now be occupying Mad King
George’s throne.”

Maddy
felt her temper flare. How dare he ridicule her after all the trouble she had
gone to for him. “And, of course, it goes without saying, you do not want a
managing wife.”

“There
may be worse fates, but offhand I cannot think of one,” Tristan said
matter-of-factly.

“Well,
that is that then.” Maddy’s heart lay like a heavy stone in her breast. “I suppose
if I really had my mind set on marrying you, I could promise I’d never try to
manage
you
,” she ventured hesitantly.

“Why
not promise to make the Thames flow backward? You’d have a better chance of
that being believed.” Tristan shook his head sadly. “I know you, Maddy
Harcourt. You are a deucedly clever and devious woman. I shudder to think how
many times you’ve maneuvered me into doing something I swore I would never do
just in the same way you brought your father and Viscount Tinsdale to their knees
tonight. With a few well-chosen words.”

“I
had a great deal of help in accomplishing my objective,” Maddy declared
indignantly. “Have you forgotten the other women played a part as well?”

“Hah!
Think you I was fooled by the performances of such timid creatures? They were
simply marionettes speaking your words with their voice. No, my dear, it was
very apparent who had orchestrated the plot of tonight’s little drama.”
Tristan’s knowing smile made her long to brain him in the same way she had the
young Royalist who had taunted her so cruelly.

“Papa
predicted you would balk at marrying me,” Maddy said bitterly. “He said you
find the idea of marrying a managing woman too frightening by half. Fool that I
was, I refused to believe you such a coward.”

“Your
father was wrong as usual.” An indefinable expression that looked almost like
amusement flickered momentarily in Tristan’s unusual eyes. “For, it does not
frighten me, my dear; it positively terrifies me. I do not believe I have ever
before fully appreciated the awesome power of a determined female—even one who
was, for practical purposes, cutting her own throat.”

He
walked to the table, poured himself a glass of wine from a cut-glass carafe,
and studied the shimmering, golden contents in the light of a candle. “The
plain truth is, Maddy, no man in his right mind would consider marrying a woman
like you.”

Maddy’s
spirits dropped to somewhere between her ankles and the soles of her slippers.
“Not even a man who loved me?”

“Ah,
well, now that’s a horse of a different color, isn’t it?” He took a swallow of
wine, set the glass on the table, and moved toward her. “The poor sod suffering
from that affliction would already be a candidate for Bedlam, so we could
scarcely expect him to act rationally.”

He
stood close now. So close, she could feel the heat of his strong, lithe body,
smell the lemony scent of his freshly starched cravat. Did she just imagine it,
or was that laughter glinting in the rakehell’s eyes? By all that was holy, if
he had simply been teasing her all this while…

“What
are you saying?” she asked, her heart thumping so loudly in her breast, she
felt certain he could hear it.

“I’m
saying I suspect you of being a practitioner of the art of witchcraft, Maddy
Harcourt, for I have most certainly been bewitched since a particular moonlit
night at a French gristmill. Nothing else could explain the fact that I long to
marry a woman with the figure of a boy and the tongue of a wasp—a woman who is
so foolish as to maneuver herself out of inheriting one of the largest fortunes
in England by marrying a nameless bastard.”

Maddy
felt as if the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.
“Oh, Tristan,” she marveled, “is it true? You want me even without my fortune?”

He
drew her into his arms. “I want you, little witch. Only you. Without
so
much as the slippers on your feet or the dress on your
back.” He nuzzled her neck. “Especially without the dress on your back.”

Maddy
felt a hot flush suffuse her cheeks at the thought of the untold pleasures his
wicked, provocative words portended. She snuggled against him and raised her
arms to encircle the strong column of his neck. Tenderly, he kissed the tip of
her nose, the curve of her cheeks, the sensitive flesh of her earlobe until,
frustrated beyond belief, she pursed her lips, mutely begging him to once again
claim them in a searing kiss.

He
didn’t. Instead, he raised his head to search her face with anxious eyes.
“Understand me, Maddy, I can provide for you, but not in the lavish manner of
your father. I believe I have a future in England’s diplomatic corps, but in
the beginning my salary as an embassy attaché will be but a pittance.”

“I
understand. We shall survive very nicely. I am a good housekeeper and an
excellent cook,” Maddy declared, making a snap decision to withhold until later
the information that her father still intended to provide her with a generous
dowry. Until much later. Sometime after she had Tristan’s ring on her finger.

It
was not that she meant to deceive him. Heaven forbid! But the dear fellow
seemed so inordinately please with the thought that he would be the breadwinner
of the family, she could not bring herself to tell him that she was bringing a
fortune to their union after all.

It
had something to do with his honor, she felt certain. He put great store in
honor.

She
strongly suspected it also gave him a feeling of control. If there was one
thing she’d learned from living with her grandfather, it was that men like to
think they were in control.

“Now
that we have that settled, my love, do you think you could kiss me?” she asked,
smiling meekly up at him. “For if you do not, I fear I shall be forced to
collect the kiss you still owe me.” She sighed dramatically. “And since that
outstanding debt appears to be my only fortune at present, I’d rather not spend
it just yet.”

With
a joyful chuckle, he complied with her request at once with a tender, yet
demanding passion that claimed her as his forever…just exactly as she’d known
he would.