Chapter4
Aurora saw endless possibilities for matchmaking when she looked around at her friends and acquaintances. They had a host of familiar likes and dislikes for romantic partners, though a lot were uncomfortable speaking of them out loud.
After the ball, she was yet again a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Berringer, as they presided over a private gathering of friends in the early hours of the morning at the Duke of Exeter’s London home. The sideboard to her right nearly groaned under the weight of a hearty repast prepared by efficient servants. A half dozen guests grazed at any one time upon the feast, discussing the latest on-dit overheard during the last week.
Her nights spent at Grafton House with Eugenia were almost as predictable as those at home with Sylvia, not that she’d ever share that opinion with anyone connected to either house. It was the usual crowd, just older than when she’d first come to London.
The truth was, Aurora was so restless tonight she could barely stand herself. She could certainly make a match for anyone here tonight if given the chance. But as it was, she had to be practical. She had limited resources and greater needs. She needed an occupation again. And the best place to start was by working with the unmarried members of the ton.
But how to go about approaching them…well, that was a bit of a challenge. Spinsters were likely not the first people recommended to play matchmaker for anyone. She would need someone to do that for her. Maybe Scarsdale could write her a reference if she successfully matched him with a bride. But there were few who took the young lord seriously, and he wasn’t exactly keen to tie the knot.
She glanced around. She might need someone with a reputation for sincerity and discerning taste, if she was going to ask for a letter of reference to share about. She had to find just the right bachelor and spinster for her first clients, and likely offer her services to them free of charge.
Aurora’s mind was so fixed on what she might make of her life with a matchmaking career that she didn’t realize someone had come up to stand beside her. Not until she inhaled the most delicious scent ever to be worn by any man, and sighed out loud.
She closed her eyes, blindsided. Aurora didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Her indrawn breath had delivered the scent of Lord Sullivan’s distinctive cologne straight to her senses. But eventually, she did look up at him. He was so tall, and Aurora trembled a little to have him looming over her. So close. Too close.
She took a step back from him, attempting to regather her wits. “Good evening, my lord.”
He frowned at her but then nodded. “Can I interest you in a cup of tea?”
“Yes, in fact I was just about to ask a servant for it,” she said, turning away.
“Don’t bother. It’s in the library, waiting for you now,” he told her in a clipped tone she hadn’t often heard from him.
She looked around slowly at the earl, wondering if something had upset him, besides the usual of not having a wife anymore. “Ah, thank you for telling me. Exeter’s butler has read my mind. Excuse me.”
She didn’t ask him to join her. She didn’t want to become trapped in conversation with him tonight. She had a lot to think about, and the quieter library was actually the perfect place to do that. She could consult the duke’s copy of the peerage while she considered her choice of first client, how she approached them. It had to be done with delicacy. She would have to prove there was a very good reason to trust her with their happiness.
Unfortunately, Sullivan did follow her into the library of his own accord, and when she sat on one of Exeter’s comfortable leather settees closest to the fire, Sullivan sat next to her. Close.
She groaned softly, then instantly wished the sound back into her throat as he glanced her way with a question in his eyes.
He’d heard.
She smiled quickly. “It’s been a long night.”
“Indeed, yes. I often miss country hours,” he murmured.
Any moment now, Sullivan would launch into his usual ramble that involved his late wife, and some long-ago summer evening they’d shared. Aurora sighed inwardly as she reached for the teapot. Sad tales were always better heard with a cup of tea.
Sullivan held up one hand to stop her. “No, no, you must be exhausted after all the dancing you did tonight. Every set. Let me pour you a cup of the tea I asked to be prepared for you.”
She gaped at him and glanced out the library doors, wondering why he’d bothered. “Should we wait for the others?”
He shrugged. “I only ordered it for you.”
Unwisely, Aurora was touched by the thoughtful gesture. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
“Actually, I did. I realized it might be the only way I could claim your attention. I’ve barely been able to catch your eye all evening, since you refused to dance with me.”
“Because my dance card was full.” She frowned. “Why were you trying to catch my eye? Is something wrong?”
Sullivan smiled tightly as he poured her tea without answering immediately. She found herself holding her breath as he set the pot back on the table. It was not like Sullivan to be mysterious, so she began to worry about the reason he’d lured her away from the others. They were alone, and that was also unusual.
She picked up her cup, cradling it in her fingers and waiting impatiently for him to get to the point.
Sullivan poured his tea and sat back. “You look preoccupied tonight,” he murmured. “Are you regretting you did not join your cousin Sylvia on her journey to Bath?”