Emma took Lady Felicity’s hands and smoothed her thumb over the ridges of her knuckles until they relaxed. “I will help you. But first, you must tell me what you need.”
Lady Felicity lifted eyes, gray like her brother, rimmed thick with dark lashes like her brother’s, and said, “Love. I want… I want to bewanted. For me alone.”
“Well, then, that is what you shall have.”
Love. The most difficult of challenges for any matchmaker. That alone should send her fleeing London, no matter the risks of returning north empty-handed. The three times she’d failed, the women had been looking for love matches. She wouldn’t fail this time.
It seemed she’d gained another sister to shelter under her wing.
Chapter Six
Samuel’s favorite day of the week dawned bright and clear, and as his sisters bounded out the door and onto the street in front of him, bundled in bright, warm plumage, he focused on his target.
Meet the widow in Hyde Park, learn more about her, enjoy his sisters’ company, and ignore Lady Emma. Every target easy to hit.
June bounded ahead as she usually did, strands of her dark hair already falling from beneath her bonnet. Gertrude and Felicity walked arm in arm, whispering with bright red cheeks. What did they talk about? Should it concern him? Were they in need? Could he help them in some way? He hunched into his greatcoat and shook the questions off. They were happy in the moment. Only that mattered.
At the edge of the square, June had stopped. It appeared as if she’d run right into a mirror. Another form—dressed brightly and of the exact same height—stood before her like a reflection. Both figures were stiff, and he quickened his pace. Foe or friend? Should he step in or hang back?
Questions he never had answers for. So, he watched instead, keeping a steady eye on the two girls. But the duo soon turnedinto an entire army of richly colored winter skirts. How many? His three, then… one, two, three others and… Lady Emma.
He sped up now, joining the group and tipping his hat to Lady Macintosh, who was joining, too. Eight women and him. All was right in the world.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Lady Macintosh said. “I hope you do not mind. When Emma told me she planned to join you and the girls in Hyde Park this afternoon, I knew I must accompany you as well. And bring the girls. Have you met Lady Emma’s younger sisters?”
Ah. That’s right. The sisters. He’d quite forgotten about the little stars clinging to the moon maiden’s glow.
He plucked the thought, the image of Lady Emma drenched in moonlight, and tossed it away. “I’ve not. But I would be honored if you introduced me.”
“Line up, line up.” Lady Macintosh arranged the girls in a redheaded, blue-eyed row. “Now, the youngest is Lady Diana.” The girl dropped a curtsy. “And this is Lady Briar.” Another curtsy from the girl the same height, and likely age, as June. “Finally, we have Lady Glenna, who is almost of age to have a Season. I hope to have her back in London soon to help her find a husband.”
“I would like to have that honor.” Lady Emma stood to the side of her sisters, pride softening the lines of her face.
She appeared different today, dressed in a shade of blue so dark it flirted with black. No frills anywhere, nothing fashionable about her. Next to the other ladies, her mantle and bonnet would make her disappear. If not for her face, her shape. Did she have blue-black embroidery on the cuffs of her sleeve? Along her hem? Because her gloves the last time they’d met had taught him she hid rich surprises about her person.
She caught him studying her, and her brows jumped up her forehead. To look away would be to suggest he’d been caughtdoing something he shouldn’t. So, he held her gaze, gave her a nod, a tip of his hat, then left the brim low to hide his eyes and hunched more deeply into the collar of his greatcoat.
“So many sisters,” he grumbled.
Somehow, she was right by him now, her skirts flirting with his greatcoat, her voice low and laced with humor. “A veritable plague.”
He tipped the brim of his hat back, caught her gaze, found himself grinning, easy and free. “Just so. A plague much to be wished for.”
“Just so.” She returned the grin, the kissable corners of her lips tipped up as she drifted away from him. As if she’d never been close, as if the exchange had happened out of time. Every good moment with her happened out of time.
He turned sharply toward the park. “Come along.” He didn’t watch to see if they followed, but soon, he felt June step in line with him. They walked in a silence he wished he knew how to break. Of all his sisters, he felt most comfortable with June. She’d been so young when he’d stopped being her brother and begun to be her guardian. Lottie, Andromeda, Prudence—they’d been his friends first. What a change it had been to learn another way of being around them. What a damned difficult wall to erect between them. But June… she’d been three when their parents had died. Did she even remember them? His mother should have comforted June after nightmares, but Samuel had. His father should have taught her how to ride a horse. But Samuel had. He’d swung her in circles to make her laugh, and he’d secretly taught her the best insults to swing at the earl’s son across the square who liked to pull her hair.
She was, in many ways, his, and by God, he’d carve out the heart of any man who hurt her.
Years yet before that happened. Thank God.
“Samuel?” she said as Hyde Park came into view. Her voice was high and sweet and contained a bit of mischief. Every bit of her contained a bit of mischief.
“Yes, Juney?”
“About this widow.”
“What do you know about Lady Huxley?” His sisters had been talking. Naturally.
