pianoforte.
In seconds, delighted guests clogged the dance floor, their lively patterns obstructing Lady Gertrude from view altogether.
“Thank you,” Alexander said, and meant it. “You two have saved the party.”
“Nothing so noble.” Miss Finch sent a dark glance across the dance floor. “Lady Gertrude was saving herself.”
“She’s very talented.”
The blithe compliment had been automatic, but when he paused to really listen, Alexander realized it was more than true. Lady Gertrude was every bit as skilled as the famous musicians he had intended to feature. It was astonishing.
“She’s not showing off,” Miss Finch said. “She’s hiding, the inconsiderate scamp.”
“Hiding?” Alexander repeated. “On stage in a ballroom?”
“Gertie disappears into her music every chance she gets. She could have been a celebrated pianist if she hadn’t been born a lady, or if her father were less of a—” Miss Finch cleared her throat. “That is to say, Lady Gertrude is accomplished in all things. She could manage a dukedom just as well as she makes music.”
“Subtle,” he murmured.
“Is there any reason to be?” Miss Finch lifted a shoulder unapologetically. “Everyone under this roof knows this year’s party is less Christmastide and more a Duchess Derby. My money is on Lady Gertrude.”
He arched his brows. “I thought proper ladies didn’t gamble.”
“I’m not in the running,” Miss Finch reminded him. “I’m as likely to dance atop a piano as play one. I would make a dreadful duchess. But I can help you find the right one.”
He frowned. “I thought Lady Gertrude was the right one?”
“If you do think that, then my work here is over. But if you’re still deciding, it is Gertie’s wish that I help you make a sound choice. Just as she wouldn’t wish to be trapped in an unhappy marriage, nor does she wish a poor match on you. I know the foibles and the families of every young lady in this room. I’ve watched them all for years. If you would like a lieutenant, I’m yours until Twelfth Night.”
He stared at her. “This was Lady Gertrude’s idea?”
“She insisted most vexingly.”
Miss Finch did not look gratified.
“It’s very... kind,” he admitted. “Thoughtful and logical, indicative of a clever mind and the ability to think further than oneself and the present moment.”
“Mm,” said Miss Finch. “Almost as if she’s perfect duchess material.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’d match me to someone other than your cousin?”
She pressed her lips together with obvious indecision and then sighed. “Like Gertie, I have no wish for either of you to be miserable for the rest of your lives. If what’s best is for you to choose one of the other young ladies, then yes. I would help you make the most fitting match.”
“Hm,” said Alexander.
Almost as if Miss Finch was every bit as compassionate, logical, and forward-thinking.
He would not be surprised to discover Lady Gertrude had learned the traits by looking up to her cousin.
“Very well,” he said. “I accept your assistance in this matter.”
Miss Finch looked as though he had crushed her last dream.
“I figured you would,” she said glumly. “It would’ve been so much easier if you’d simply fallen in love with Gertie at first sight.”
“She’s very pretty,” he said automatically.
To be honest, all of the debutantes were pretty.
He supposed Miss Finch would say that was one of their necessary accomplishments. Their pastel gowns were flattering, their extravagant hair arrangements stunning, their movements in time to the country-dance rhythmic and graceful.
“I see what you mean.” Miss Finch’s gaze swung to the dance floor. “It must take mental fortitude not to fall in love with all of them at once.”
Alexander’s heart clenched.
It had not happened to her.
She’d looked just like this once, or whatever the equivalent had been twelve years ago. He couldn’t recall the fabric colors and hair dressings of the day, but Alexander had no doubt Miss Finch would have copied them perfectly.
She was outrageous now, but back then, she’d been...
Unremarkable.
He couldn’t recall a single thing about her from those days, despite the probability that they’d been at the same crushes dozens if not hundreds of times.
Then again, he hadn’t been looking. Twelve years ago, he’d been an adolescent still adjusting to the role of duke, and the last thing he’d needed was to complicate his life with a bride.
And now here he was, presiding over a Duchess Derby in a ballroom awash with exceptional choices... spending his limited time at the side of a woman who would not do at all.
She wasn’t in the running.
Miss Finch was his lieutenant.
Of course it was fine for a