Sleepless at Midnight (19 page)

“A good idea, given she saw you sneaking back into the house carrying an incriminating shovel the same night a man was murdered.”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I was walking.”

Daniel regarded him for several long seconds then said quietly, “I’ve no idea what you see in her, but regardless, you’d do well to recall that she has no money.”

“I am well aware of that.”

“Good. As I have your best interests at heart, I spent some time chatting with Lady Julianne and her mother at breakfast this morning. Would you like my opinion?”

“I suppose I might as well say yes, as I’m certain you’ll give it to me anyway.”

Daniel smiled. “How well you know me. Lady Julianne is a lovely young woman with a horribly overbearing mother who all but smothers her. She is agreeable and amenable, and based on the cordial way she treats her mother, she has the patience of a haloed saint. If you could get her away from that termagant, she’d make an acceptable wife. Certainly one who wouldn’t argue with you or complain about being shipped off to a country estate. However, if that dreadful woman is to become your mother-in-law, I’d strongly advise you give her as wide a berth as possible.”

“Thank you for that information. Although I’m curious if Lady Julianne is so lovely and amenable, why don’t you want her for yourself?” He shot his friend a narrow-eyed look. “Are you interested in someone else?”

Was that a flicker in Daniel’s eyes? Before he could decide, his friend said lightly, “It’s clearly missed your notice that I’m not shopping for a bride. My only interest is in helping you secure the wife you’re so determined to have. And even if I were to suffer a severe blow to the head and decide I wanted to leg shackle myself to some woman, I’d certainly not choose someone like Lady Julianne. Virginal innocents are not to my tastes. She’d bore me to tears within a week. Still, she’ll suit nicely for you.”

“Because I don’t mind being bored to tears?”

“Because you’re desperate for a wife and she has to be an heiress. And young enough to bear children. I really don’t think you’re in a position to be all that choosy. A bit of boredom is not a terrible price to pay for all you’d stand to gain. But you’ll be better able to form an opinion of Lady Julianne after you’ve spent some more time with her. I’d suggest you begin with dinner this evening.”

“Dinner?” Matthew frowned. He’d intended to seat Miss Moorehouse next to him.

“Yes, dinner. You know, that meal we eat after the sun goes down. Sit Lady Julianne next to you. Relegate me to the far end of the table, where, on your behalf, I’ll do my utmost to discover Miss Moorehouse’s secrets and determine whether she believes you’re a shovel-toting murderer, thus leaving you time to charm the lovely heiress you need so badly. Unless you’d prefer to sit Miss Moorehouse next to Logan Jennsen once again? Based on how famously they got on last evening, neither would complain at the arrangement.”

Matthew’s entire body was seized by an unpleasant feeling that resembled a cramp. “I’ll seat Jennsen next to the lovely Lady Wingate. That should keep him occupied.”

For a fleeting second Daniel looked as if he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Better yet, seat Jennsen between Lady Gatesbourne and Lady Agatha. That will keep both ladies well occupied.”

Yes. And it was no more than Jennsen deserved.

At dinner that evening, Matthew sat at the head of the table with Lady Julianne on his right and Berwick on his left. He glanced down the table, noting Logan Jennsen engaged in conversation with the loquacious Lady Agatha, who was no doubt regaling him with the grisly details of Tom Willstone’s murder. Lady Gatesbourne, who sat on Jennsen’s other side, watched the man with avid interest, her eyes glittering with undisguised avarice. No doubt calculating how many hundreds of thousands of pounds Jennsen was worth. A smiling Lady Emily was holding court with Hartley and Thurston, both of whom had regained their good humor after their losses on the archery field. Daniel was seated next to Miss Moorehouse, and Matthew trusted his friend to draw her out as best he could. So all was well. He should have been relaxed and enjoying himself and focusing on the beautiful Lady Julianne. But he wasn’t.

No matter how hard he tried, he could barely keep his mind on their conversation. Thank God Berwick seemed happy to chat with her across the table, as Matthew had once again dropped the conversational ball.

His gaze refused to cooperate and remain on Lady Julianne and instead kept straying to the opposite end of the table, where it seemed Daniel and Miss Moorehouse were getting along very well. At that moment she smiled at Daniel, a lovely dimpling smile that reached all the way to her eyes, making them glow behind her spectacles with amusement. He heard the deep rumble of Daniel’s laughter and his shoulders tensed.

Bloody hell, there was no mistaking the unpleasant sensation gripping him. It was jealousy. He wanted that lovely smile directed toward him. Not his best friend. He wanted to be the one laughing with her. Not his best friend.

And what was this? Logan Jennsen said something across the table to Miss Moorehouse that caused her to turn her radiant smile in his direction. Damn it, she was glowing as if she were lit from within. And Jennsen who was supposed to be occupied with Lady Gatesbourne and Lady Agatha was once again looking at Miss Moorehouse as if he were an explorer who’d just happened upon a cave filled with sparkling jewels.

Bloody bastard. Jennsen had more money than the damn royal family he didn’t have to marry an heiress. And from the looks of it, he didn’t have any interest in the heiresses sitting in his midst. No, he seemed to have eyes only for Miss Moorehouse whom he’d described as lovely. Bloody bastard.

“Don’t you agree, Langston?”

Berwick’s voice yanked him from his reverie and he jerked his attention back to his dinner companion. “Agree?”

“That Lady Julianne looks exceptionally lovely this evening.”

Matthew turned toward Lady Julianne and offered her a smile he prayed didn’t look as tight as it felt. “Extremely lovely.” And it was the truth. Dressed in a pale peach gown that highlighted her delicate features, golden hair and flawless ivory complexion, she was simply stunning. Her father was no doubt being showered with offers for her. Indeed, it looked as if Berwick was already half in love with her. A quick scan of the table confirmed that Hartley and Thurston also kept casting their gazes in Lady Julianne’s direction. He shouldn’t even have to think twice about courting her then offering for her. What the hell was wrong with him?

And once again his gaze strayed to the opposite end of the table. To spectacles and a pair of huge doe eyes. To a dimpling smile and loose strands of unruly hair. To fingers that bore faint traces of charcoal. To full lips and a plain gray gown that somehow in no way detracted from her appearance. Just then Miss Moorehouse looked beyond Daniel and her gaze met his. And he felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. The murmured conversations and delicate clinking of silverware against china faded away. For several surreal seconds it seemed to him as if they were the only two people in the room and that something private and intimate passed between them. Heat rushed through him, as if she’d touched him, and although he tried to keep his features composed, he wondered if she could see her effect on him. Then a quizzical look entered her eyes, one that made him feel as if he were a puzzle she was attempting to solve.

“She has such a way with the needle and thread,” Lady Gatesbourne said, her voice rising above everyone else’s. Miss Moorehouse blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance. Indeed he felt as if he were pulled out of a trance himself.

Without moving her head, Miss Moorehouse flicked her gaze toward Lady Gatesbourne then looked toward the ceiling. A laugh rose in Matthew’s throat, which he managed to smother, but he couldn’t stop from smiling. From the sound of it, Lady Gatesbourne was extolling, rather loudly, the virtues of her modiste in between enthusiastic sips of wine.

If nothing else, the woman would sleep well tonight. With any luck, she might fall asleep before dessert was served. Good God, the thought of that woman being his mother-in-law was enough to put him off the entire idea of marriage. And certainly wasn’t doing anything to help his appetite. Miss Moorehouse smiled in return then reverted her attention to Daniel. Matthew picked up his wineglass and contemplated the claret contents, trying to figure out a topic of conversation with which to engage Lady Julianne. Finally he turned to her and said, “Tell me, Lady Julianne, have you read any books of interest lately?”

Why that question should cause her eyes to widen with what looked like panic and her cheeks to flame, he couldn’t imagine. “Oh, um, not especially, my lord.” She cast her gaze downward and appeared to be fidgeting with her napkin.

Good God, he’d thought it a simple, innocent enough conversation starter, but she appeared about to succumb to the vapors. He was about to change the subject to the surely safe topic of the weather when she looked up and said in a rush, “But we’ve recently formed the Ladies Literary Society of London.”

“We?”

“Lady Wingate, Lady Emily, Miss Moorehouse, and myself.”

“A literary society,” he said, nodding in approval. “Reading and discussing Shakespeare’s works, are you?”

More color rushed into her face. “We’ve only just formed. Things of that sort are in our future, I’m sure.”

Bloody hell, she blushed at the drop of a bonnet. Not that he didn’t appreciate a beguiling blush, but good God, all he’d mentioned were books. Certainly she didn’t appear to be made of sturdy stuff. Regardless, he forced himself to press on, but decided he’d best change the subject since anything literary appeared about to send her into a swoon.

“Tell me, Lady Julianne, what are some of your favorite things to do?”

She considered for several seconds, then said, “I enjoy playing the pianoforte and singing.”

“Are you good?”

“I am passable and endeavoring to improve.” The tiniest hint of mischief glinted in her eyes.

“However, if you ask my mother, she will tell you that I sing like an angel and my talent at the pianoforte is unrivaled.”

Hmmm. Lady Julianne was not only lovely, but modest. And appeared to have a sense of humor. Both very promising.

Yet again his gaze strayed to the end of the table. And he saw both Jennsen and Daniel listening intently to something Miss Moorehouse was saying. His fingers tightened around his crystal wine goblet and he forced his attention back to Lady Julianne. “What else do you enjoy?”

“Reading. Embroidery. Riding. Dancing. The usual sorts of things ladies enjoy.”

Yes, the usual things. The problem was, it seemed he’d developed a freakish and completely inconvenient preference for the unusual.

“I’m also very fond of animals,” Lady Julianne continued. “I love riding my mare when we’re rusticating at the country estate, and walking my dog in Hyde Park when we’re in London.”

He forced himself to keep his wandering gaze on her and concentrate on this positive bit of information. That she enjoyed riding and liked animals was certainly good. “What sort of dog have you?”

Her face lit up and she named a breed of the sort of small, yipping, ankle-biting, carpet-piddling beasts that slept on satin pillows and that one constantly tripped over and Danforth utterly disdained.

“When I return to London, I’m planning to purchase several more in the same breed so Princess Buttercup has some companions,” Lady Julianne enthused.

Matthew stared at her over the rim of his wineglass. “Your dog’s name is Princess Buttercup?”

Lady Julianne smiled, a dazzling smile that no doubt lured most men like a siren’s call. “Yes. And the name suits her perfectly. I commissioned my modiste to make her several tiny doggie outfits, complete with bonnets.”

Good God. Danforth would never forgive him. He could just see his dog’s reaction if he were to bring such a creature into their midst. “Do you like large dogs?”

“I like all dogs, but personally prefer small breeds. Large dogs cannot sit on your lap, and they can all but pull one off one’s feet when attempting to walk them on a lead. Of course, they don’t frighten Princess Buttercup. She’s quite fierce and doesn’t hesitate to snap at beasts far larger than herself.”

He instantly pictured a snapping Princess Buttercup dressed in tulle and a minuscule bonnet, her tiny teeth attached to Danforth’s tail while a very unhappy Danforth glared at him. The picture of domestic bliss he’d been attempting to paint in his mind vanished like a puff of steam in a brisk wind. Which was utterly ridiculous. Except for the Princess Buttercup situation, Lady Julianne was perfect in every way. Perfect for him in every way. What more could he possibly ask for in a wife than a woman who was a beautiful, witty, modest, amenable, demure, animal lover who also happened to be the much-needed heiress? Nothing. He couldn’t ask for anything more. Yet once again his gaze strayed to the end of the table. And he froze. Daniel had clearly abandoned his conversation with Miss Moorehouse, as he was now talking to her sister, Lady Wingate, who sat on his other side. Miss Moorehouse, however, didn’t look in the least bit abandoned. No, she was speaking to that bastard Jennsen, who was hanging on her every word as if pearls of wisdom dripped from her lips. Her lovely, full, lips. That she’d just moistened with the tip of her tongue. A quick glance at Jennsen confirmed that he’d seen the gesture. And had liked what he’d seen.