Page 8 of Matching Mr. Montfert (Apsley Family #2)

Chapter eight

Grace

The walk to Berkeley Square from Apsley Court was not particularly long, but the excess exercise I had received over the last week had taken its toll. I had not met with my client again yet, hoping time would dull the ache, and it had to a good degree. As such, I intended to meet with Mr. Montfert tomorrow, so long as I did not aggravate my leg overly much today.

At home, it was easy to forget the malady that had ailed me since childhood, as there I could take time to rest when needed and did not spend my days walking miles to and from shops, parks, and the like. But this was my first Season, and I intended to experience it to the fullest. If that meant ignoring the pain shooting through my limb, then so be it.

“Shall we get ices at Gunter’s?” Annette asked. “It is warm enough today to warrant a cold treat, I think.”

“I’m not opposed,” Rowe answered. “I must stop at Dangerfield’s afterward. I’m in need of more material on—”

“Sheep herding,” I interjected teasingly. He was always reading about the subject.

Rowe gave me an annoyed look, but there was a smile in his green eyes. The man had worked hard since inheriting my father’s holdings, educating himself with the kind of commitment Father would have been proud of. I often wondered why Rowe had not been made aware of the will, so he might have been better prepared, but the only person with the answer had passed on. Even my mother had not anticipated it, though none of us had ever begrudged Rowe for inheriting.

He was the perfect person to take on the task of maintaining the estate, and I trusted he would always care for my family.

My jaw clenched. If things went according to plan, Rowe would not need to look after me for the rest of his life. I had no doubt I would end up a spinster, but I would find a way to provide for myself. Mr. Montfert and I had not agreed upon a sum, and I would bring up the topic at our next meeting. Now that we had established a good rapport, I saw no reason not to, and he had mentioned his intention to pay me for the help.

Hopefully, he would not be the last.

“You are turning into quite the bore with your incessant reading,” Annette said to Rowe. “But then, you always did prefer the company of books to people.”

“I shan’t deny it. Perhaps that is why I get in less trouble than many of the people I know.” He grinned at her. “There is nothing troublesome about reading a book in a library.”

“Rus might disagree. He manages to find trouble anywhere—including libraries.”

Rowe’s brows furrowed, but before he could ask what his sister meant, my gaze caught on the familiar faces of Miss Rigby and her mother. I grabbed Annette’s arm, dragging her forward. “Come! Let us invite Miss Rigby to join us.”

Annette came willingly but scowled. “I hardly know her.”

“Neither do I, which is why I want to catch up and extend the invitation.” I continued when Annette blinked at me in confusion, lowering my voice so Rowe would not overhear. “She’s one of the candidates I’ve chosen for Mr. Montfert. I wish to get to know her better.”

My cousin’s expression smoothed into understanding. “I see.”

We drew closer, but the fast pace became harder to maintain, each step sending sharp tendrils of pain into my leg. Fortunately, Miss Rigby and her mother had the same idea as we did and entered Gunter’s.

“Good morning, Mrs. Rigby, Miss Rigby,” I greeted with breathy words once we had entered. “How are you today?”

“Fine,” Mrs. Rigby answered with a forced smile, then turned her attention back to the room with an assessing gaze.

I would not be deterred. “Would the two of you care to join us?”

The matron ignored me, but Miss Rigby smiled. “I would like that. Mother, I am going to sit with Miss Scott.”

Her mother turned toward us with a scowl, but it quickly faded as she took note of Rowe standing next to me. “Mr. Apsley, how good it is to see you.”

Rowe, who had been staring at Miss Rigby, seemed to shake himself from a trance and smiled, dipping his head slightly. “A pleasure.”

His eyes darted back to the younger woman.

Odd. Rowe was never so easily distracted, but he was not the only one. Annette glared at someone across the room. I followed her gaze until mine fell on Lieutenant Paget, who stood conversing with half a dozen women, a roguish grin on his lips.

“Annette?” I whispered.

She turned toward me. “I wish to leave.”

“We just arrived, and besides, I have invited Miss Rigby and her mother to sit with us,” I said through gritted teeth. “Surely you can survive long enough to have an ice?”

Annette huffed, muttering under her breath. “Debatable.”

“Perhaps we should find a table,” Rowe suggested, clearly confused by his sister’s sudden change of demeanor. “There is one free just there, in the corner.”

Once we were all seated, I chatted with Miss Rigby while we waited for our ices. Prompting the girl into conversation was a chore, though she seemed pleasant and kind when she did engage. She responded with intelligence, offering her opinion on topics when I asked, but never drove the conversation herself. I did not allow her reluctance to bother me, for I was now more certain than ever it was born out of shyness rather than snobbery. All points in her favor.

She also enjoyed reading. And had brown hair.

Could she be Mr. Montfert’s perfect match?

I wasn’t sure I’d fully convinced myself, but seeing them together at the ball—an event I asked Miss Rigby if she planned to attend—would clarify the matter. I took a bite of my cherry ice, musing over how I might make the introduction.

Annette sighed next to me, and I turned to face her, realizing for the first time she was not enjoying an ice of her own.

“Did you not want one?” I asked, nodding toward mine. “It was your idea to come, and I know you like the chocolate.”

“No, thank you.”

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes my cousin could be quite dramatic. No doubt her abstinence had something to do with the lieutenant. Some strange point of rebellion.

Rebellion of what, I did not know, but it was certainly not worth losing an ice over.

I glanced over at the man and found him staring at us despite the numerous women vying for his attention. Annette followed my gaze, and once she realized his focus was on her, she stuck up her chin.

“Do not look at him,” she ordered under her breath. “He will think we care that he is here.”

“But you do care,” I said.

“No. Well, yes, but only because I do not wish to be anywhere he is.”

“You’ve had one conversation with the man. How can you dislike him so much after one conversation?”

Annette shifted in her chair to face me, and I was glad Rowe was conversing with Mrs. Rigby and her daughter. They did not need to overhear this discussion.

“He tried to call on me two days ago,” said Annette. “The nerve of the man after being so…so…offensive.”

“Technically, he never answered your question at the dinner party, so I fail to see how—”

“And”—she held up her finger, continuing to talk over me—“you know I have an agreement with my parents. I must accept any suitor, which means if he calls, I cannot deny him. I was fortunate to have been out with Mother the day he came.”

In the man’s defense, he was not the only suitor Annette had complained about since we arrived in Town. Two others had called on her, including Lord Hartley, who wore vibrant yellow waistcoats and a purple coat. While Annette played the part of gracious hostess perfectly, the moment they left, she ripped apart their characters like a knife to canvas.

Annette stiffened and sucked in a breath. “No. He is coming this way. Hide me.”

“Hide you?” I asked with a chuckle. “How do you expect me to do that? Besides, he has been staring at you for the last quarter hour. It is not as though he hasn’t seen that you’re here.”

The lieutenant approached and bowed politely in greeting. The women who had not left his side since our arrival followed him, and for the first time, I noticed a bit of weariness in his expression. Perhaps he did not enjoy their attention as much as he let on.

“Might I join you?” he asked after all pleasantries had been exchanged.

Annette gripped the edge of her chair when Rowe offered him the only vacant seat—the one next to her. The man sat down with a nod of thanks, and the group of women that had surrounded him took the dismissal with frowns as they dispersed.

“How are you today, Miss Apsley?” he asked.

Annette lifted her chin but did not spare him a glance. “Well, I thank you.”

“Cold?”

She faced him, confusion knitting her brows. “I said well , sir.”

“I heard you. I assumed you were cold since you are the only one in this entire establishment who has chosen not to enjoy an ice today.”

Annette smiled, a facade of politeness I was certain the man could see through. “I find I cannot enjoy them in an atmosphere that is tainted.”

The lieutenant propped his head up with one elbow on the table, leaning toward her with a smirk. “Tainted how, Miss Apsley?”

I assumed since the man had called on my cousin that there was some genuine interest on his part, but if he continued to taunt her this way, he would ruin any chance he had. Still, I admired his gumption. If nothing else, he was not put off by Annette’s barely concealed disdain.

“I would not wish to cause offense.” Annette smiled prettily and fluttered her lashes.

“Then it is good I am not a man easily offended.” He batted his lashes back at her.

Annette rolled her eyes. “How unfortunate for me.”

I covered my mouth to prevent the laughter building inside me from escaping. I hadn’t any idea what sort of game the lieutenant was playing, but he was clearly enjoying himself. Perhaps he was a tad incorrigible, but I could not help but be amused by the situation. Because of her agreement with her parents to accept the attention of any suitor this Season, she could not simply dismiss the man, no matter how much she disliked him.

“Are you at home to callers on Friday, Miss Apsley?”

Annette’s jaw clenched, and she ground out her response. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to return to Gunter’s then so as to not unintentionally taint your experience.” He stood with a wide grin then bowed before leaving our group. Annette gaped after him, seeming some mixture of appalled and shocked.

My laughter broke free.

“Yes, yes, laugh,” Annette said. “You would not find so much humor in it if you were in my position.”

“You must give the man credit; he tricked you well.”

“Oh, shush.” Annette whacked my arm playfully, her lips twitching. “I will give him no such credit, and I cannot decide whether to despise him more or feel relieved that he has no intention of calling on me again.”

“I would not bet on the latter,” I said. “The man might still show up on Friday. He takes pleasure in teasing you.”

“Heaven knows why.”

I gave her a pointed look, and she shook her head vehemently. “I know what you are thinking, Grace, and I beg you toss those notions away this minute. I shall count myself lucky if I never see him again.”

Something told me Annette would not be so fortunate.

Having bid Mrs. Rigby and her daughter goodbye at Gunter’s, Annette and I walked arm in arm through Berkeley Square with Rowe following behind us. We still needed to stop at Dangerfield’s so Rowe could purchase a book or two, and while the siblings conversed on our walk, my mind pondered over my conversation with Miss Rigby.

I liked the woman a great deal and wondered if Mr. Montfert would find her equally as pleasant. Even if he did, would Miss Rigby take to him? He was handsome and set to inherit a fortune, but there was more to romance than those things. A love match, after all, involved two hearts; not just one.

Annette nudged me with her elbow, pulling me from my musings. “Ahead of us,” she whispered.

My gaze landed on Mr. Montfert as he left Dangerfield’s, and before I could think better of it, I called to him. At this distance, he did not hear me, so I called again, louder this time.

Still, he did not turn around. Before I could make a third attempt, he started walking and joined a woman leaving the shop next door. My feet halted. I recognized that head of dark hair and elegant figure.

Sabrina Stafford, the Duchess of Rochester. The woman who had nearly ruined my sister and her chance at happiness.

Sabrina took Mr. Montfert’s arm, and he smiled down at her. Something twirled in my stomach, and the sensation remained even as the two of them walked farther away from us down the street.

“Grace?” Rowe placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his voice soft with concern. “Are you well? How do you know Mr. Montfert?”

“He is an acquaintance.” Much as I trusted Rowe, he would not approve of me playing matchmaker for financial gain. I continued when his brows drew closer. “I am surprised, is all. I was under the impression that he has an interest in a friend of mine. Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you know him?”

Rowe shook his head. “Not well, really. I met him while out with Rus a few days ago. The two of them have become fencing partners, it seems. As for your concern about his interest in your friend, I would not discredit it so soon. He and the Duchess are cousins, and I doubt there is more to their relationship. Her father has named Montfert his heir, according to my brother, and demanded he marry or face disinheritance. Mr. Perry’s expectations are high, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

I could imagine it. No wonder Mr. Montfert had been desperate enough to hire me. In a way, it made me more eager to help him.

But the nephew of Mr. Perry? I did not know how to feel about helping a man so close to the woman who had hurt my sister. Amelia had been trapped under Sabrina’s thumb for over a year before any of us became aware of the situation. Somehow, Sabrina had learned of Amelia’s illegitimacy and used the information as blackmail, and Mr. Perry was no better.

While Sabrina had promised to never reveal the truth once Amelia became engaged to her now husband, Lord Emerson, I was uncertain I trusted her to keep her word. When we first met, I had idolized the Duchess for her kindness and elegance. But that kindness was a front. She wore her mask well and fooled many.

Did Mr. Montfert wear a similar disguise? And what would I do if I discovered he did?