Page 7

C olin knocked on the door of the impressive detached house in Knightsbridge.

The Georgian-style home boasted an enormous, creamy, off-white facade with ornate carvings and authentic period details.

Glancing up, Colin noted the five imposing floors that towered above him without any sign of wear or age sullying the exterior.

Colin had to wonder at the upkeep of such an old home.

As he owned an historic Queen Anne–style brownstone in Boston, he could well appreciate the work—and money—it took to maintain such a place.

The dark oak door slowly swung open, and an older gentleman greeted him with a dip of his head. “Mr. O’Rourke?”

“Yes,” Colin replied, nodding his own head in acknowledgment. “I have an appointment with Miss Emsworth.”

“Of course,” the man replied. “This way to the drawing room, please.”

Colin entered the house, his face impassive as he studied the entrance hall.

The silver fleur-de-lis foil wallpaper perfectly offset the cream-colored chaise lounge, creating an effortless air of wealth.

A dark side table, topped with light granite, held an enormous bouquet of fresh, colorful flowers, giving the otherwise cold room warmth and cheer.

Colin wondered if Miss Emsworth showed herself in her decorating tastes; perhaps she maintained aloofness, yet had a cheerful side?

He certainly hoped she had some redeeming quality.

So far, his impression of her had been less than positive.

Blackmail tended to cast one in a bad light.

Colin dutifully followed what he could only assume was the butler down the hall, into a large, sunshine-filled room.

The walls were a dark colonial blue, and the ornate crown moldings were a stark white.

The crystal chandelier shot rainbows across much more modern furnishings, giving the room a timeless feel. Colin was suitably impressed.

“Miss Emsworth will be with you momentarily. Please make yourself comfortable,” the butler remarked before he withdrew.

Colin’s brow furrowed. For a woman who wrote a column about class divisions, she lived a rather opulent lifestyle.

He meandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows and glanced at the small, tidy back garden.

The square plot was surrounded on all sides by a tall stone wall covered with trellises.

Vines crept over the wall in many places, giving a feeling of nostalgia and beauty.

In the center was a water fountain, surrounded by green bushes and the beginning shoots of flowers that would bloom as summer began.

“That fountain was given to me by my late husband,” a voice with a crisp British accent said from behind him.

Colin turned and got his first glimpse of the woman who threatened his livelihood.

A tall woman, dressed smartly in dove-gray trousers, a deep purple blouse, and a matching gray blazer, Miss Winifred Emsworth commanded the space.

Her silver hair, swept into a loose bun on top of her head, highlighted the strand of pearls around her neck and the matching earrings .

She walked towards him, her mahogany eyes on the fountain.

“My Ernie had it made just for me when he sold his first company. The fountain is of a child, you see. We were never blessed with children of our own, despite how badly I wanted them. But, he gave me what he could, and I will forever be grateful for that.” She stopped next to him and pinned him with a pointed look.

“And a few years after his death, I was given a most precious gift. One I’d never thought I’d receive, and had long stopped hoping for… my dear niece.”

Colin held out his hand. “Colin O’Rourke. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Emsworth.”

She grasped his hand and turned her wrist counterclockwise, bringing it towards his lips. He obliged and kissed her hand, and she waved him to the settee. “Please, have a seat, Mr. O’Rourke.”

Colin bit back a smile and instead chose one of the larger chairs. There was no way his frame would fit onto the delicate settee, and there was no way he would allow her to dominate this meeting, regardless of its location.

She smiled and gave a slight nod, as though to say she understood his intent, and sat in the matching chair.

So , Colin thought, mentally rubbing his hands together. It’s to be a full-on match, then. “I’m sorry for the loss of your husband.”

“Thank you. I’ve asked that refreshments be brought here. How are you finding London?” she asked, settling herself.

He leaned forward slightly and dipped his head towards her. “The city has its charms.”

She laughed. “Oh, you’re a cheeky one, Mr. O’Rourke. There’s no need to flirt with me.”

He smiled. “I rarely flirt with anyone, Miss Emsworth. I’m merely making an observation.” She raised an eyebrow, and he continued. “I enjoy city life, but I must admit to enjoying country life as well. I’m adaptable like that. ”

She thoughtfully tapped her lips. “Mmm. Adaptability is important in life, isn’t it? I’m impressed with what you’ve done with your company since the unfortunate death of your cousin, Miss O’Rourke. Mysterious disappearance in Dublin, wasn’t it?”

Colin couldn’t exactly tell her that his cousin, who was now Lady MacWilliam, was living quite comfortably and happily with her husband and clan in the mid-1400s. Instead, he nodded and attempted to look stoic. “Yes. We miss her very much, but know she’s in a better place now.”

“Ah! Here we are. Thank you, Alan,” Miss Emsworth said as the butler arrived with a tray of sandwiches and tea. She said to Colin, “I love teatime. It’s one of the customs I uphold, as it’s so classically British.”

“I understand you’re Irish by birth?” Colin said, accepting the cup from Alan. “Your father, I believe, was an Irish farmer, and your mother was a British socialite.”

“Google does not tell the whole story,” Miss Emsworth replied with a slight tsk .

“Then I’m happy I didn’t bother with it,” Colin replied dryly.

“Things are done much differently here, Mr. O’Rourke. We are very different than Americans.”

“I’m quite aware of that.”

“Oh, yes, of course. You’ve spent quite a bit of time over here, even studying abroad in Ireland for a year. Was it the University of Limerick, or Trinity?”

Colin placed his cup and saucer on the table next to him. “Miss Emsworth, I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you hope to accomplish by asking me questions you certainly know the answers to?”

“To determine your honesty,” she replied without hesitation. “I’m attempting to see if you are worthy of handling my niece’s happiness.”

He leaned heavily on the armrest closest to her, his expression foreboding. “It is my understanding that you’ve already determined me to be so in issuing your demands. You wanted Celtic Connections to match your niece and prove that we do what we say—help people find love.”

She nodded, unruffled by his undertone. “Yes, that’s what you claim.

And there is a part of me that’s very impressed with your success rate in the States.

But in the interest of honesty, Mr. O’Rourke, let me be frank with you.

You refuse to allow those of the middle and lower classes to partake of your services, and I find that abhorrent. ”

He felt heat creep up his neck—not from embarrassment, but from anger.

He sat up and forced himself to calm down before answering her in a measured tone.

“I do not allow or disallow anyone from partaking of Celtic Connection’s services.

Surely you’ve heard of gold diggers, Miss Emsworth.

” He glanced around. “People who have worked hard to get where they are in life deserve to be with people who aren’t out to steal it all away. ”

“My, what a dim view of life you have,” she admonished.

“Absolutely not,” Colin replied. “I’m a realist, and a businessman.

My model in the States is that my clients are the ones who ultimately determine their life partner.

I work within the requests of those clients, and I charge a certain amount of money to find them what they think they want.

Some people can afford my fee, and others cannot.

Those who can, give me a list of requirements.

If a potential partner’s income is one of those requirements, I will do my best to fulfill it. ”

“What if no income requirements are provided, Mr. O’Rourke? Does your pool of available women include any with low incomes?”

Colin just barely managed not to roll his eyes. “We have women and men in our databases, Miss Emsworth. I’m not running an escort service, for heaven’s sake.”

“Mmm. ”

He braced both elbows on the chair arms and rested his chin on his steepled hands.

“How we find partners for our clients is a trade secret, and I refuse to discuss it. I can assure you that we have men and women from all different backgrounds, but you’d have no cause to believe me.

I do not match people based solely on income.

I never have, and I’ve never claimed to. ”

“You mean, your employees match people,” Miss Emsworth corrected him. “You strike me as a man who runs things from the top without any real insight as to how things are done at other levels.”

“I’ll try not to take that as an insult,” Colin intoned, “but I can assure you that Google does indeed tell my entire professional story.”