was nothing if not a romantic—or so his mother would say.
She was not wrong.
It wasn’t too late for Edmund to marry and have children. That was, in fact, why he’d come to this party. He’d resigned himself to the realization that it was time. But never had he expected to find Miss Aldwick—the Dowager Duchess—here. His resignation had abruptly become his exceptional good fortune. Except that she hadn’t been aware that this party’s purpose was matchmaking, and, more importantly, she’d seemed scandalized upon finding out.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Cosford said, taking the empty seat next to Edmund.
Edmund hadn’t even seen his host get up from the head of the table. “Just mulling the days ahead and how you’ll manage to keep us all occupied indoors with this weather.”
“I will hope it will dry out, but if it doesn’t, be assured my wife will arrange plenty of activities for everyone to do.” He chuckled softly. “She’d consider the party an abject failure if she did not. Actually, she’ll consider it a failure if there isn’t a match made.” He shook his head. “I keep telling her it’s unlikely, but she insists it is.”
“I have to agree with your wife,” Edmund said before taking another sip of port. He set the glass back on the table, keeping his fingers curled around the stem. “Whether it’s to marry or find some other…connection, it seems Lady Cosford has chosen a group that wants one or the other. Surely at least one match—either temporary or permanent—will be made.”
“Careful, or I’ll think your temperament is as romantic as my wife’s!” Cosford laughed, but quickly sobered. He lowered his voice. “I’m not certain everyone here wants to make a match. Apparently the Dowager Duchess was not too pleased upon learning the nature of the party.”
“Why didn’t she know beforehand?” Hadn’t she received the same invitation Edmund had? Perhaps not.
Cosford swallowed a gulp of port. “Cecilia didn’t think she’d come if she knew, and of all the people here, Cecilia says she needs this party the most. The dowager has been an absolute hermit since the duke died, and Cecilia worries for her cousin.”
“Still, if she wasn’t ready for this, keeping the truth from her seems insensitive.” Edmund didn’t give a whit if he insulted his host. The Dowager Duchess’s upset reaction earlier was far more troubling.
“I can’t disagree, but I don’t get too involved with my wife’s plans, particularly when it comes to her family. She’ll do what she will whether I advise her against it or not.” He lifted a shoulder. “Can’t say I mind either. Contrary to most of our sex, I prefer a woman who knows what she wants and does it.” There was a gleam of pride in Cosford’s eyes that made Edmund truly desire a loving marital relationship. Maybe, in addition to feeling as though he must wed, he was ready to do so?
Edmund was eager to see the dowager duchess again. Anticipation built within him as the gentlemen took their time over their port. He would tread cautiously with her. Assuming she was even still in the drawing room. She’d arrived just before they’d gone in to dinner—so late that Edmund had feared she wasn’t coming.
Then she’d appeared in a beautiful lavender gown, the gauzy material flowing into a short train behind her as she’d glided into the room, her dark, shining hair swept onto her head and styled with a wide lavender ribbon while delicate curls brushed her temples and cheeks. She’d looked beyond lovely, and Edmund hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from finding her throughout dinner. Which hadn’t been difficult since she’d been seated directly across from him. That had made conversation with her all but impossible, but he’d been able to look his fill.
“Shall we adjourn to the drawing room with the ladies?” Cosford asked, standing.
Edmund kept himself from racing out the door. Even so, he was the second gentleman to leave the dining room and somehow the first to enter the drawing room.
He didn’t have to look for the dowager duchess because she was lingering near the door, as if she’d been about to leave. Edmund thanked fortune that she hadn’t. He didn’t squander a moment, moving to speak with her.
“I hope you weren’t about to retire,” he said with a gentle smile.
“I was actually. It’s been a long day of travel.”
“It has indeed. Would it be terrible of me to shamelessly ask you to reconsider? I’d hoped to partner you in a dance. I remember