To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) by Michelle Styles Page B

understand why you did it, but given that I’ll easily win being cooped up now. where is the fun in that?’
    ‘Where indeed?’ he murmured. ‘Very well. We will call a truce, Lady Thorndike, until you have recovered. I’ve no wish to make it easy for you. The wager is abandoned.’
    She gave a brisk nod, but the tiniest of smiles played on her full lips. ‘Did you think Sebastian would remain in London? You should have known that he’d scamper up here once you removed his love.’
    ‘I misjudged the situation,’ Robert admitted reluctantly. ‘I’d not considered his devotion would be so great. You have always claimed that he’d rather be dead than north of the Humber.’
    ‘Now that’s a first—you admitting you’re wrong.’Henri pressed her hands against her gown. First the handkerchief to clean her face and then Robert admitting that he’d made a mistake and readily agreeing to a truce. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. Her fingers itched to smooth it away. She struggled to breathe normally and wished her stays were looser.
    ‘Sophie wrote a letter to your cousin this afternoon. Her maid handed it to me. I suspect she was hoping to have it posted along with your notes and then have your aunt post it onwards, but now I realise she knew he was here.’
    ‘I know nothing about it,’ Henri replied truthfully. She sat up a bit straighter and lowered her lashes demurely. ‘But Sophie Ravel strikes me as a very determined young lady. Something that is forbidden gains in value. Have you read the letter? Or did your spies simply inform you of its existence?’
    ‘An expression of piety does you no good.’ Robert’s laughter filled the room. ‘I know you’ll be involved somehow. But having met Sophie, do you truly think she is the correct person for your cousin? Can’t you resist meddling for once?’
    Henri put her hand to her head and tried to think clearly. ‘You do me a disservice. Before I meddle, as you called it, I do seek to make sure the couple in question are compatible.’
    ‘Out with it, Henri. What is the trouble? What do you have against Miss Ravel? Why don’t you think this is a good match? I’m interested to hear your reasoning.’ His eyes danced.
    ‘Do you intend to marry Miss Ravel?’ she asked in a careful voice. Her insides tightened, waiting for theresponse. If she knew he was spoken for, maybe this intense physical awareness of him would vanish.
    Instantly he sobered and put the paper down. His brows drew together. ‘That, Henri, is none of your business. You are teetering on the brink of asking a question that could be construed as matchmaking and interference in my private life.’
    ‘It is a natural enough conclusion. The entire village has remarked on Miss Ravel coming up here when no one knew of her before. They believe she has fled towards love, rather than running away from ruin.’ Henri kept her gaze fastened over his shoulder. With each breath she took the tight fluttery place in her stomach became tighter and more noticeable. She refused to think about the kiss they had shared earlier. Would he have kissed her if he was promised to another? Her cheek burnt. There was no way she could even refer to the kiss.
    ‘As it happens, village gossip is wrong. I’ve no plans to marry the chit.’ He turned towards the roaring fire, hiding his face. ‘I’ve known her since she was a babe in arms and I made a promise to her dying father. I’ll be glad once she has settled into a good match and is no longer my responsibility. I pity her poor husband, whoever he is, as she will lead him a merry dance. She was the apple of her father’s eye and he only married her governess so that Sophie would have a mother…after her mother died. It would be cradle robbing and my tastes are more mature.’
    Henri discovered she could gulp air again. Robert Montemorcy had no plans to marry Sophie Ravel and liked women closer to his age. He sought to honour a promise to Miss