nodded. “Yes. And this is the perfect time of year to do so. The Christmas holidays are just around the corner, and there is romance in every snowflake and cheery red ribbon.”
Cav smiled at her in that indulgent way he sometimes did when she was going on like this. “You should write one of those novels you insist on reading out loud to me in the winter.”
“Oh, don’t pretend that you don’t love them,” she said with a playful scowl. “I intend to have a party out at my estate in Crossfox and invite six ladies—and their chaperones, of course—and six gentlemen. Then I shall see if I can end the party with six very happy couples.”
His eyes went wide and for what felt like an eternity he just stared at her. “A whole party to matchmake these poor unsuspecting people.”
Emily pursed her lips in mild annoyance. “I know you are a resigned bachelor, Cav, and an unrepentant rake, but you act as if I intend to do something horrible to them.”
“No. Just force them into each other’s arms,” Cav muttered. “And when do you propose to do this thing?”
“We will start the day after Christmas. Crossfox is so close to London, it isn’t a difficult journey for any of those I intend to invite. I plan twelve days of merriment.”
“Twelve days,” Cav said. “Like the poem.”
“Exactly.” She clapped her hands together. “I know it doesn’t line up exactly with the real twelve days of Christmas.”
“Yes, one whole day off the true timeline. What will the scholars think?”
She laughed. “They will have to forgive me and say it’s close enough. I have so many plans for each day and the fun that can be had with the poem.”
“Wait, you are proceeding with the theme of the Twelve Days of Christmas?”
She tilted her head. “Of course! What could be more festive?”
“There are a great many birds in that poem, Emily,” he said. “So, so many birds.”
She folded her arms. “And I will manage them all. It will be enchanting.”
He chuckled again. “Of course it will be. With you in charge, how could it be anything but?”
“Don’t tease me,” she said with a playful swat on his upper arm. “I sent out the invitations this morning before I went on my shopping excursion. And my estate staff is already readying themselves for the arrivals. Would you like to hear who I have in mind to attend?”
“I admit, I am curious,” Cav let out a put-upon sigh as he motioned her to sit on the settee. He took the chair across from her and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Who are your victims?”
Emily frowned at the couching of the question, but then plowed on, undeterred. “First, the ladies. Miss Abigail Delafield.”
He nodded. “Eldest daughter of the second son of Viscount Wayland. Only one left who is unmarried, yes?”
She nodded. “The Ladies Honoria and Prudence Mulberry.”
“Twin daughters of the Earl of Mulberry.” He pursed his lips. “A bit bluestocking, aren’t they?”
Emily smiled. “Yes. They do like their books and tinkering with this and that. But they’re very nice.”
“I’m sure, but—”
Emily continued without listening to any further complaint. “Miss Bridget York.”
“She’s American.”
“Her father is some kind of industrialist or some such thing.” Emily nodded. “They moved to London two years ago, have more money than the king, it seems.”
“And yet the lady remains unattached,” Cav mused.
“Indeed. I think it is hard to break into a Society such as ours.” Emily shrugged. “Next is Lady Thea, daughter of the Earl of Beacham.”
“The youngest of, Heaven preserve us, ten daughters, yes? I think her mother ran out of steam with her.”
Emily nodded. “I’ve always thought the same thing.”
“And that makes five. Who is the last lady?”
“Lady Hickson,” she finished with a smile.
“But she is the widow of the Marquess of Hickson,” Cav said with a shake of his head. “She was married.”
Emily shrugged one shoulder. “Not very happily, by all accounts. And I’ve always sensed that Virginia perhaps wanted to find the right man the second time around.”
Cav crossed one foot over his knee and steepled his fingers against it before he said, “Emily, I feel I must point out that every single lady on your list is considered a wallflower.”
“Yes, I know. Not your type,” she said, fighting the slight annoyance that accompanied the fact he knew so much about the women she’d listed. The man was who he was, of course. Except when he was around her. He was too respectful to dally