His Bargained for Bride (Regency Matchmakers Book 4) Page 3

  Lady Ambrosia’s methods ranged from the unconventional to the downright peculiar. Sometimes she gave her subjects physical tasks, such as jumping jacks or toe touches which she somehow used to determine their perfect match. On other occasions she delved into the occult with Tarot cards or palmistry. Once I saw her attempt to decipher the meaning of the shape of a rather startled gentleman’s head by running her hands over his scalp.

  It was my task to write down the odd phrases she uttered while engaging in these evaluation techniques. Despite my determined efforts and countless hours of contemplation, I had been unable to make head nor tails out of her cryptic comments.

  She took my notes and then compiled them in her large leather ledger. The book was the source of great fascination for me. It was possibly the heftiest book I had ever seen and Lady Ambrosia kept it under lock and key. When I once suggested that I could be of service to her by adding my notes to the ledger myself and save her the trouble of it, my usually jovial hostess snapped the book closed and gave me a serious, almost frightening look. “No one but me is to ever open this book. This book contains powers that cannot be controlled by anyone other than myself.”

  I opened my mouth to ask the obvious question, “Why?” but closed it before uttering the word. Lady Ambrosia’s ominous warning was enough to keep me from broaching the subject again, but it only increased my curiosity.

  My fingers itched to pull the cover open and peek inside. And magic? Oh, my! The urge morphed into an obsession which nearly consumed me. I lay in bed at night, my mind spinning with the possibilities of what might be hidden within the worn pages.

  Only my sense of honor and deep gratitude to Lady Ambrosia prevented me from sneaking out of my bed late at night and peeking between the mysterious pages. Lady Ambrosia had saved me from barbarians who had robbed and beaten me, taken me into her home without hesitation and provided me with food, clothing—a proper lady’s wardrobe, Lady Ambrosia had forbidden my use of men’s apparel—and a roof over my head. Perhaps more importantly, she had given me her friendship and affection without judgment.

  I would be the lowest form of human to repay that kindness by violating the one and only restriction she had placed upon me.

  Fortunately, my other responsibilities were sufficient to fill my days and occupy my mind, but whenever a new client arrived and Lady Ambrosia opened her big book, I could not help but sigh with longing.

  Lady Ambrosia had given me use of a writing desk in the drawing room from which I managed her correspondence. She read all of her letters each day, which were many, and then wrote notes on those for which she wished me to reply or make a note. Though I found her methods curious, to say the least, I could not fault her success. Each day the mail contained glowing letters of gratitude from happily married couples along with invitations to christenings for their babies. And despite the large number, Lady Ambrosia took delight in each one, passing them to me to read with a happy smile on her face.

  Success begat success and managing the high number of requests for appointments required a high level of organization, particularly since each meeting drained a significant amount of Lady Ambrosia’s energy, so it was not as though I could schedule multiple appointments in a day. Usually two, maybe three, was the maximum.

  It was toward the end of one of these longer days where Lady Ambrosia had met with three different persons eager to find their mates that an urgent pounding on the door drew me from my work to the foyer. Lady Ambrosia’s elderly butler did not move with sufficient speed to quell the beating the door was taking, so I opened it myself.

  A starkly handsome gentleman stood on the threshold. “I am looking for Lady Ambrosia.” Though he was an exceptionally good looking and well-dressed man, his tone and manner of speaking did not sit well with me.

  “Do you have an appointment?” I used my body to brace the door and block his entry. I did not fear for my safety, but his brusque demeanor did not make me inclined to go out of my way to accommodate him, either.

  “I do not. I am Lord Stowe and I have urgent need of her services.”

  “Then you ought to make an appointment.” I slammed the door in his face and turned the lock with a satisfying click.

  “What is all the ruckus about?” Lady Ambrosia had made her way to the foyer. Despite the wearying day she had endured, her eyes shone bright.

  “It was a very rude man without an appointment,” I said. “I suggested he make an appointment.”

  Apparently, the arrogant beast had not gotten the message when I closed Lady Ambrosia’s bright red door in his face because the insistent pounding began again. I turned with a sigh, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. I had had my fill of bossy, arrogant men and had no compunction about informing him thusly.

  Lady Ambrosia placed her hand on my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks. “Let him in, dear. I am prone to be sympathetic to those in need,” she said, giving me a look which reminded me of her many kindnesses to me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, unlocking the door and opening it wide.

  “Please come in,” Lady Ambrosia said and I did my best not to make a face. “I am Lady Ambrosia and this is my assistant, Amaryllis.”

  “Thank you,” he said, stepping over the threshold and handing me his hat and walking stick.

  I dropped them on the floor.

  Lady Ambrosia gave me a look which reminded me that my actions were a reflection on her and I hated the idea of bringing disrepute to her name. “Oops,” I said and picked up the offending items and placed them on the table in the foyer.

  “I am Lord Stowe,” he said, ignoring me and addressing Lady Ambrosia. “I understand you find wives for a fee.”

  “I am a matchmaker,” Lady Ambrosia corrected him. “Won’t you come this way?”

  “B-but, Lady Ambrosia,” I interjected. “Are not the Ladies Knox and St. Clair coming to take tea with you this afternoon?”

  “I am sure this will not take long, Lord Stowe does not appear to be a man prone to excessive chatter.”

  Though I had not been invited to join them, I followed closely on Lord Stowe’s heels as Lady Ambrosia led the way through her overstuffed home to the solarium where she preferred to conduct her business.

  Drake

  I could not believe that my desire for a bride, or more accurately, my need for a bride, had resulted in my current situation. Seated in a flower infested solarium more reminiscent of a jungle than a stately garden, under other circumstances I would have turned and left at the sight of the bright red front door. Who ever heard of such a thing?

  Desperate times called for desperate measures. I hoped Uncle Jarvis appreciated the lengths to which I was willing to go to fulfill his wish, though of course, he must never know about any of this. My head pounded.

  “Now,” Lady Ambrosia turned to me, “how may I help you? I take it you are in search of love?”

  “No,” I replied more quickly than was polite and Lady Ambrosia was a bit taken aback. Her short haired assistant, whom I did not recall Lady Ambrosia inviting to join us, had taken a seat next to Lady Ambrosia and openly glared at me. Were it not for my promise to my uncle and my heartfelt desire to make him happy in his final days, I would have gotten up and escaped from this house of eccentric women.

  Alas, that was not an option for me.

  “Please,” I continued, “allow me to explain.” The assistant, what was her name? Amaryllis? What sort of name is that? What did I care about her name, she was of no use to me in my predicament. She had folded her arms over her chest in a most unladylike fashion. I ignored her and focused on Lady Ambrosia.

  What sort of name was Ambrosia? Amaryllis and Ambrosia? Had I wandered into some den of charlatans? Too late for me to wonder about that, time was of the essence.

  “My uncle, Lord Redmond, is gravely ill.”

  “Oh, dear. I am very sorry to hear that,” Lady Ambrosia said. Strangely, though she did not appear gleeful, neither did she appear surprised by this info
rmation.

  “He has raised me since I was a child. My parents died when I was young. It is his dying wish to see me married and settled in life, and so I have come to you, in search of a fiancée.”

  “I see,” Lady Ambrosia said, standing. “I am sorry, Lord Stowe, but I do not believe I can help you. Amy, will you please see our guest to the door?”

  “Gladly,” the pert assistant said, jumping to her feet with a triumphant smile.

  Shocked. I stared at Lady Ambrosia. “I beg your pardon, Lady Ambrosia. I do not understand. Are you not in the business of marriages?”

  Lady Ambrosia sighed and looked at me as one would gaze upon a misbehaving child. “I am in the business of love. You do not seek love. You simply seek a fiancée. You did not even mention a wife.”

  “No, I did not. But there is a good reason for that, if you will hear me out.”

  She paused for a moment and then resumed her seat. Amaryllis remained standing and sighed loudly in case neither of us had noticed her disdain for me.

  “The doctor indicates that my uncle has a short time to live, perhaps only a matter of days. I have no wish to marry. I simply seek a woman who is willing, for a handsome fee, I might add, to pose as my fiancée until such time as my uncle passes on. There is no need to present him with a bride when a future bride ought to be enough to satisfy his anxieties over the issue. I assume you must have a list of eligible young ladies. Surely one of them would be willing to take on this task.”

  There was a long silence among the flowers as Lady Ambrosia took in my words. “So,” she finally said, “you need someone who is a good actress, for I assume she will have to play the part of being madly in love with you in order for your uncle to believe the charade.”

  “Lady Ambrosia!” the pesky assistant said, “You are not giving this scheme serious consideration, are you? This is a travesty. It goes against all of your principles. Your commitment to love. You should toss him out on his ear. Shall I call for assistance?”

  Lady Ambrosia turned to Amy. “Ah, my dear, there is much love in his request.” She turned back to me. “Lord Stowe may not be in search of romantic love, but it is clear he has deep love for his uncle. Is that not true?” Lady Ambrosia rested her hand on my forearm. In that moment, all of my feelings... my love... for Uncle Jarvis came to the forefront. My chest tightened and tears threatened at the corners of my eyes.

  “Y-yes, it is. Very true,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

  “I believe I have the perfect match for you right here.” She gestured toward her sassy assistant.

  “What?” the girl gasped. “Lady Ambrosia, have you gone mad?”

  Chapter 4

  Amy

  I could scarce believe my eyes and ears when Lady Ambrosia pointed to me. She had taken me in, shared her home with me, entrusted me with important aspects of her business and now she wanted to shunt me off to this arrogant oaf? Did she not know anything about me? Had I not made my lack of interest in marriage and men abundantly clear to her?

  Oh good heavens. Had I worn out my welcome? I had intended to be on my way within a day of arriving and now it had been weeks... possibly longer.

  All of this flashed through my brain and I glanced at Lord Stowe who had an equally shocked and appalled look on his face. Well that was a nerve. How dare he turn up his nose at me? Hmpf. His loss.

  Lady Ambrosia cleared her throat. “Lord Stowe,” she said in her most diplomatic tone, “Amaryllis here came to live with me under some unusual circumstances. She was en route to America to assist the poor.”

  “I hope she does not slam the door in their faces.”

  “You were rude.”

  Lady Ambrosia held up her hands. “Please, if I may continue, perhaps the two of you will see past your own egos and prejudices.”

  “My apologies,” Lord Stowe said.

  “Please continue, Lady Ambrosia.”

  She pointed to the chair I had vacated a few moments earlier and I resumed my seat, still glaring at Lord Stowe. Pretend to be his simpering fiancée? I think not. Still, out of respect for Lady Ambrosia, I shut my mouth and allowed her to continue before I went upstairs and packed my bags, ready to be off on my own if need be.

  “As I was saying,” Lady Ambrosia began again, “Amy wishes to travel to America. A few weeks ago her plans were thwarted by some hooligans who robbed her of the funds to make the journey. Although I am happy to compensate her for the fine work she does for me as my assistant, at this rate it will take her many more months, if not longer, to have the necessary funds for such a journey.”

  My face flamed with embarrassment. How could Lady Ambrosia share all of my troubles with a stranger? An arrogant and smug stranger? Surely she could see his flaws. Lady Ambrosia’s ability to decipher a person’s character was uncanny. How could she be fooled by this man?

  “And you, Lord Stowe, have money and are in need of an eligible and presentable young lady to play the role of your fiancée for a short time in order to fulfill your uncle’s dying wish.”

  Lord Stowe and I exchanged stormy looks as her rationale became clear.

  “Are you saying I should…” he stopped talking and gestured at me, “present her to my uncle as the woman I intend to wed? The woman who would be Countess of Redmond one day?” he scoffed.

  “I would be an outstanding countess, not that it matters to you or that I care what you think. Besides, it will never get to that point.” Wait, was I agreeing with Lady Ambrosia?

  Lord Stowe leveled his gaze on me and I jutted my chin out daring him.

  Finally he looked away, gazing past my shoulder shaking his head from side to side. “I have little choice in the matter, it would appear.”

  “So we are agreed. Amy will act as your fiancée until such time as your Uncle Jarvis passes away. Afterward, your engagement will be broken. Shall we agree now that Amy will be the one ending things? Being jilted is such a damaging thing for a lady’s reputation.”

  “I am a widow and have no intention of every marrying again, besides, I will be on my way to America before anyone knows of the broken engagement. So I thank you for your concern for my reputation, Lady Ambrosia, but it is of little significance to me.”

  “Well, I have no intention of ever getting married myself, so how this ends is of no consequence to me, either,” Lord Stowe said, flicking his eyes in my direction, “just so long as it ends at the soonest possible moment.”

  “Agreed.”

  Drake

  “Oh, I do so look forward to seeing dear Seraphina again,” Lady Calliope St. Clair said, clasping her hands together. “Will she not be surprised to see us?”

  “There is nothing better than a surprise, whether you are the surpriser or the surprisee,” Lady Tempest Knox agreed.

  Not only were the two women full of nonsense, now they were making up words. Who ever heard of a surpriser or a surprisee?

  I thought I had already gone to extreme lengths to fulfill the charade of a betrothal for my uncle’s benefit, but my meeting with Lady Ambrosia had been just the start. Frankly, that dear woman, despite her gaudy name and dress, was the most logical of the entire lot.

  If I had not been opposed to marriage before, being trapped inside a carriage with Lady Calliope St. Clair, her daughter-in-law Lady Tempest Knox and Amaryllis, my faux fiancée, would have cured me of any romantic desires for the companionship of a woman.

  The two ladies had arrived to take tea with Lady Ambrosia as I was leaving. I had ridden to London on horseback, so urgent was my rush to make arrangements with Lady Ambrosia, assuming it might be a few days until an appropriate fiancée could be sent to Briar Glen. When they learned that Amy and I were betrothed and further that I lived in Briar Glen, there was no putting them off. The two ladies were a formidable pair.

  “If there is no lady of the house, it would be improper for Amy to stay with you until you are properly wed,” Lady Calliope had said, with a raised eyebrow. Despite her incessant chatter, s
he did make a valid point. I had no desire to cause a scandal, not to mention my fervent wish to spend as little time with Amy as possible. My own acting ability was minimal, at best and it would take all of my good breeding and manners not to turn up my lip at the impudent woman whom I had agreed to pay, and pay well, to pretend she loved me.

  “I shall engage a room for her with Mrs. Loxley who takes in boarders in town.”

  “Boarders? Oh my, that will never do,” Lady Tempest had said, giving me a shocked look. “Our dear friend Seraphina Moon lives in Briar Glen. I am sure she would love to have a guest.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I am not familiar with anyone named Moon in Briar Glen.”

  Lady Calliope slapped Lady Tempest on the arm. “She is Seraphina Spencer now. She is married to a very fine man, Dr. Lucas Spencer. Do you know him?”

  An express was sent off to Cherry Grove Manor, the home of Dr. Lucas Spencer and his wife, notifying them of the imminent invasion of their quiet abode. I fought back a chuckle when I envisioned Dr. Spencer’s face when this gaggle appeared on his doorstep.

  While Amy packed up her things, a servant was sent to collect fresh clothes and other items for Ladies Calliope and Tempest and to inform their husbands of their change in plans. No doubt those two gentlemen, though I had never met them, were relieved at the thought of a night away from the incessant chatter.

  And that is how, in the waning light of evening, I found myself entombed with women who had apparently never heard the phrase silence is golden. I stared out the window and reminded myself of the many sacrifices Uncle Jarvis had made for me.

  “Oh dear,” Lady Calliope said, “Lord Stowe looks glum. I am sure he did not expect to be saddled with the likes of us while taking his bride-to-be to her new home. Amy,” she nudged my fake fiancée, “go over and sit next to your handsome fiancé. I am sure that will improve his mood immensely.”