He froze for a couple of seconds. “You know Mercy? Do you also know Alice?”
“I can’t say that I do. Know anyone named Alice, that is.”
“Good,” he said, relaxing. “I thought she might have decided that since Rupert wasn’t answering... I thought you might be...”
I waited for him to finish. “What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
He made a face. “My sister-in-law has a habit of trying to pair off all of us. My brothers and me. She’s been riding on a high ever since she sent Mercy down to help Alden, and lately she’s turned her attention to my brother Rupert and me.”
“A matchmaker, huh? I have a friend like that, only she just wants me to hook up with people. Hence the comment about getting it on with a handsome foreigner.” It struck me at that moment that he was the man who I had dibsed on the race Web site, which of course made my blush go even hotter. “Well, this is definitely going to be one for the journal.”
“Pardon?”
I shook my head and made a vague waving gesture. “Just ignore me. The jet lag has clearly turned off the filter between my brain and mouth.”
“I understand that.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s the middle of the night for me.”
“Ugh.”
“Are you a writer, then?”
“Me? No.”
“You mentioned a journal, so I thought perhaps you were a writer, too. My brother writes thrillers.”
“Very cool. I’m a cozy mystery lover myself, but every now and again I dip my toes into thrillers. What’s his name?”
“Elliott. Are you one of those... what do they call them... scrapbookers?”
“I wish I was—some of those people go crazy wild with decorations and things. My journal is new—I’m recording everything that happens during the race. All the conversations, all the stuff I do and see, all the exciting adventures we have. And then, when it’s over, I hope to publish it. I’m a big fan of Nellie Bly—have you heard of her?”
He shook his head, so I spent a few minutes telling him about her and her exploits.
“She sounds quite intrepid. The journal idea is... interesting.”
“You should do one as well,” I told him, smiling. “You could do the man’s perspective and publish it, too!”
He looked thoughtful. “It’s something to consider. I’ve always liked record keeping, and in fact one of the few perks of my job is annotating Elliott’s estate books with notes about the tenants, crops, and so on.”
“You work on an estate? Oh, that’s right—your brother is a lord.”
“Just a baron, actually, and yes, I’m the estate manager.” His expression warned it wasn’t something he enjoyed.
“You don’t look like you’re super happy about that fact,” I said.
“It’s a job. We all have them,” he pointed out.
“Not me.” I made a little grimace. “Unless you call being a serial volunteer a job, which I guess in a way it is. So you like journaling—have you done much of it?”
“None. You?”
“I’m a journaling virgin, too,” I said, excited to have a journal buddy. “You can always give it a try, and if you don’t like it, let it go.”
“I’ll give it a thought,” he said. “So you don’t know Alice, but you are a friend of Mercy? I’ve only met her once, but she makes my brother very happy and is quite charming.”
“I don’t know her, as a matter of fact.” Together, we strolled toward one of the tables set up with a variety of beverages. “She’s the niece of my stepmom. I chatted with her via e-mail, but that’s about it. Why, is she a matchmaker, too?”
He gave a faux shudder. “Not that I know of. I take it if you’ve been in contact with Mercy that you’re the American she mentioned who is joining the women’s team?”
