Thomas tapped his fingers along the desktop in front of him. “Do you… have anyone in mind?”
Her face registered no emotion. She waved a hand in the air. “I assume you’ll be able to come up with someone adequate.”
Thomas racked his brain. None of the gentlemen of his acquaintance would be interested in Lavinia, and he frankly wouldn’t wish his awful sister on any of them. The odds of Lavinia finding a husband calculated themselves inside his brain. Not favorable. Not at all. “I’m sorry, Lavinia, it’s just that I… had assumed you were no longer interested in marriage.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “I may no longer be a lass of eighteen, but I’m still a member of one of the best families in London, and I expect you will provide me with a sizable dowry. One that will attract the sort of suitor I deserve.”
Deserve?Thomas wasn’t certain who she deserved. Or who deserved her. But she was correct about her dowry. If he raised it a bit, the odds of her finding a husband would increase. He might have to raise it substantially, he thought with a grimace.
“What else do I have?” Her voice took on a weepy quality, and she produced a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes in an attempt to convince him she was crying. “Alexandra is already married. I expect you’ll marry eventually, and when you do, I cannot imagine your new duchess will be pleased to have your elder sister lingering about the house.”
Thomas settled back in his chair and watched her. He didn’t believe for a moment she was truly upset, but she made a good point. Perhaps Lavinia was right. Perhaps it would help both of them to see her married.
The handkerchief quickly fell away from her face. “I expect to have an arrangement by the end of the Season.” She stood and made her way to the door. “I’m dependingupon you, Thomas.” She turned back slowly with a snide smile on her face. Her false tears had quickly dried. “If you fail, I can make your life quite unpleasant.”
Thomas shook his head. Of course, she had to end with a threat. Typical of Lavinia. “Have a lovely day, sister dear.”
She exited the room without sparing him another look. Thomas leaned back in his chair, ran a hand through his hair, and groaned. Damn. He hadn’t seenthiscoming. Lavinia wanted a husband? How the hell was he supposed to makethathappen? He’d spent the last decade of his life figuring out things he knew little about and mastering them, but becoming a matchmaker just might well be beyond his skills.
When he’d taken on the role of duke, his entire life had changed. He’d gone from a carefree young marquess attending Oxford, to a man with a slew of important and varied responsibilities. He hadn’t thought he could do it. Not at first. But he’d studied and learned and made every effort to become the man his father would have wanted him to become. A man his mother and sisters could be proud of. Not that Lavinia was proud. But Al was. And so was Mother. His carefree days were cut short, and the load of responsibility was placed heavily upon him, and he’d managed it all, while being loyal to his friends, like his good friend, Will.
He and Will had grown up together. Spent their childhoods together. Will had been the stable boy on Thomas’s father’s estate. After the former duke died, Thomas had promoted his friend to the role of his valet. Will was a questionable-at-best valet, but Thomas didn’t care. Will had been teased unmercifully in his youth for his stuttering problem, and he and Thomas had got into more than one fistfight with other boys over it. Thomashad never let Will fight alone. The difference in their stations didn’t matter to him and never had.
Thomas Hobbs was loyal and dutiful if he was anything, and if his sister wanted a husband, he would do his damnedest to find her one.
As luck would have it, his closest friend happened to be a matchmaker. Delilah would know what to do. He’d call upon her for assistance. He would ask Delilah to find a husband for Lavinia. It might be the most difficult match she’d ever make, but if anyone could do it, it was she.
Of course, it would open the door for Delilah and her friend Lucy to ask him for the thousandth time whyherefused to take a wife. But he would simply continue to put them off. For Thomas had a very good reason for pretending not to be interested in marriage. A very good reason indeed.
CHAPTER THREE
Delilah flew into Lucy Hunt’s library. The large room was lined with its requisite bookshelves, but it was also cluttered with the items they’d been collecting all summer for the set of their performance. The tree, moss, and donkey ears Delilah had contributed sat on a table near the center of the room, along with a host of similar things.
Cassandra Swift, the Countess of Swifdon—one of Lucy’s closest friends—sat in the corner, painting a large tree on a swath of fabric. With her honey-blond hair and cornflower-blue eyes, Cass was a beautiful artist and had been commissioned to paint the sets for their production. Delilah’s cousin by marriage, Danielle Cavendish, occupied another corner, where she and a team of maids had been tasked with sewing all of the costumes.
In addition to Derek Hunt, some of their other friends were there, including Lord Owen Monroe, Cass’s husband, Julian, the Earl of Swifdon, and Lucy’s cousin, Garrett, theEarl of Upbridge. The men were busy carrying in additional items needed for the play.
“Delilah, there you are.” Lucy floated over to greet her. The duchess was gorgeous and diminutive with black curly hair and two different colored eyes, one hazel, the other blue. She twirled in a circle, her green skirts flaring around her ankles. “It’s coming together nicely, don’t you think?”
Delilah nodded and glanced around at the chaos. “Yes, what else do we need?”
Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek. “A lantern, a bush, a scroll, and a toy dog, if we can get one.”
Delilah raised one finger in the air. “I think I can get a stuffed dog.”
“Perfect, dear,” Lucy replied with a smile and a nod.
Delilah narrowed her eyes in thought. “A real one wouldn’t be acceptable, would it?”
“I don’t think so, dear. Seems like that might quickly turn into trouble.”
“You have a point. I’ve been hiding everything in my bedchamber all summer,” Delilah said with a smile. “Mother never comes to visit me in my bedchamber.J’adorethe privacy, of course, but I do think if I were hiding an actual dog in there, she might find out.”
At mention of Delilah’s mother, Lucy rolled her unusually colored eyes. “Yes, well, I just came from the meeting of the Royal Society for the Humane Treatment of Animals, and Lady Rothwell was delighted when I told her the sets for the play were nearly complete. Step lively, boys,” Lucy said to the men, “there are still many things in the carriages.”
Owen and Julian shuffled out again. Derek stopped to give his wife a welcoming kiss on top of the head before following them.
Lucy wandered over to the moss that Garrett had left on the table. “We’ll need more of this. I want the stage to look like a real forest in the middle of the night.”
