Anna beamed with delight. “You are not averse to the Matchmaker’s methods, then?”
Percy could not be certain, but he had a feeling that comment was aimed at him.
“Goodness, no.” Simon put some buttery, herby potatoes onto Anna’s plate. “I think they must be a very interesting individual, and it is clear that their methods are fruitful. The notion and the mystery are certainly very romantic, and why not? If it is a success, it is a success.”
Percy cleared his throat. “You do not think there is an element of manipulation in what the Matchmaker does?”
The other man turned, apparently surprised by the interjection. “Manipulation? In what respect?”
“Well, at this point the Matchmaker could put anyone together, and they would believe they were destined to be, simply because the Matchmaker says so.” Percy sipped his drink and felt the burn of Anna’s eyes upon him.
Simon laughed nervously. “I doubt that is their intention. Whoever they are, they seem to care very much about who they pair together. My friend and Lady Emily, for example. Theyarebesotted with one another.”
“And might have found one another anyway, if The Matchmaker had not intervened. Yet, it makes it appear like it was all The Matchmaker’s doing,” Percy pressed. “I would also suggest that, for someone who seems so interested in romance, The Matchmaker makes a lot of arrogant presumptions about other people’s feelings.”
Simon frowned. “What you consider presumptions, I would consider intuitive. There is no harm in it, in my opinion, and I thinkyoupresume ill intentions, but as The Matchmaker asks for no money, I do not see how that can be possible. They are a Samaritan of love.”
Anna’s hand clenched around her fork, her knuckles whitening. Yet, she smiled so warmly at Simon for his weak, sentimental remarks. It was quite the thing to watch her torn between two emotions—anger and gratitude, shivering inside one small body.
“The way I see it,” she said, concentrating on Simon, “no one has to follow The Matchmaker’s advice, but they must be doing something right if they are, at present, always right. I would call it gentle influence, not manipulation. The kind of gentle influence one might receive from a friend in a time of need, or when one cannot find the answer themselves.”
Simon nodded, clearly entranced by the beauty beside him. “I could not have phrased it better myself.”
“But what makes the Matchmaker qualified at all?” Percy argued, not quite understanding why.
It would have been easier to let the matter lie, especially as he still needed her help. But the way she was smiling and laughing and indulging Simon in abundant conversation, without a hint of a mean remark, had brought something strange out of Percy. A bitter feeling he could not put a name to.
What could possibly entertain you? He is so… dull.Listening to the drone of the man’s chatter over the past few courses had been evidence enough of that. It had almost sent him to sleep several times.
“Come now, Your Grace, the evidence speaks for itself,” Simon insisted.
Percy tilted his head. “Does it, though? Lord Luminport, do you think the Matchmaker is married? If not, do you believe people would put so much faith in this figure?”
“To have such experience, I would think they are married,” Simon confirmed. “However, I do not necessarily see the need toknowwho this person is If it were the Countess, for example, there would be no qualms about her lack of husband.”
“I disagree,” Percy replied.
Anna set her napkin down on the table and stood up. “Then, I shall let you argue as you please.” She gazed at Simon with one of those warm, encouraging smiles. “Apologies, but I must be excused for a moment.”
He got to his feet and bowed his head. “Of course, Lady Anna.”
Percy also stood up, feeling the sudden impulse to go after her. But with so many people watching, he reasoned against it.
The argument did not continue once they sat back down, however, as Simon turned his attention to the gentleman seated on the other side of him, and Percy was left to rejoin a tedious discussion about the price of horseshoes.
Nevertheless, he waited for Anna’s return, eager to pick up where they had left off. He compiled a list of things he would say about The Matchmaker, and questions that warranted answers, but as the minutes wore on and the next course was served, her chair remained empty.
It stayed that way for the rest of the evening, and every time he looked in its vacant direction, he became more and more certain that he had made a terrible mistake. For she was a candle and, this time, he had been the one to snuff her out.
CHAPTERTEN
The following morning, perplexed by his actions the previous night, Percy’s first thought was to find Anna and apologize with all the sincerity he could muster.
He had already missed breakfast, held in his guest chambers by his own unease, but he would not make a prisoner of himself when it was a matter that could be easily remedied. At least, he hoped it could be. If not, he would merely find Max and Dickie and forget the unpleasantness all together.
After asking a passing servant where the majority of the guests were, he managed to make his way through the enormous manor, getting lost at least three times, until he finally found a door that led out into the gardens. It was more of a park, in truth, with vast lawns bordered by woodland that seemed to stretch for miles.
He heard Anna before he saw her.
