conversation.
Their coach came to a stop in front of their three-level, whitewashed townhouse on Grosvenor Street. A black iron fence lined their property, and through the gate, three steps led up to the main door.
A moment later, the coach door was opened, and a footman extended his gloved hand to assist them. As they approached, their heavy set, good-natured butler opened the main door and stood to the side to allow them entry.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Cooper greeted, his booming voice echoing throughout the tiled entry hall. “How was the wedding?”
Katherine removed her gloves and extended them towards the butler. “It was… eventful.”
“Eventful?” Cooper asked, lifting his brow.
Hannah interjected, “The bride almost didn’t go through with it.”
“But she changed her mind?” the butler questioned.
Amelia unpinned her straw hat and placed it on the table. “Yes, but only after Katherine spoke to her.”
Cooper turned towards her with an expectant look on his face. “What did you say that compelled her to go through with the wedding?”
“I merely reminded Lucy that she loved Lord Hampton,” Katherine replied, “which she did. She loves him very much, but she was just frightened.”
Hannah nodded. “It was evident to everyone that Lord Hampton and Lucy love each other.”
“True. They couldn’t seem to stop smiling at their luncheon,” Amelia remarked.
“I am just glad that we didn’t ruin our perfect record,” Hannah commented.
Amelia started walking towards the stairs on the far side of the entry hall. “I am much more interested in a long soak.”
“As am I, but I think I will take a nap first,” Hannah said, trailing after her sister. “I woke up entirely too early this morning to travel to the wedding.”
Katherine spoke up. “I suppose I will just work without you two then.”
“Why don’t you take a break?” Hannah suggested as she stepped up onto the first stair. “You always work too hard.”
“If I don’t, then who will?” Katherine questioned.
Hannah lowered her voice. “It is not as if we have to work, Kate,” she said softly.
“Regardless, what else would we do with our time?”
“Shopping?” Hannah suggested. “I do love shopping.”
Amelia stopped on the stairs and placed her hand on the iron railing. “I hate shopping. I much prefer having the dressmaker come here for a fitting.”
Katherine started walking towards the rear of the townhouse where their study was located. “I will be in the study if either of you decide to come look through files with me.”
“Why don’t you look through the files and tell us who our next client is?” Amelia suggested as she resumed walking up the stairs.
Hannah continued to trail after Amelia. “Or at least pick out a few candidates for us to consider over dinner?”
“I could do that,” Katherine agreed.
As she stepped into the study, Katherine stopped and took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent. This had been her father’s study and sometimes she could still imagine him sitting at his desk, hunched over his ledgers. She had left the study exactly how it was when her father was alive. It had rich green papered walls with ornate woodwork running the length of it. A long mahogany desk sat back near a large bay window, overlooking the gardens.
She went around the desk, sat down on the chair, and reached for a pile of files, positioning them in front of her. All these files represented people who wanted them to find matches for a loved one. They had successfully matched a handful of men and women, and their business had grown to be quite lucrative over time.
She had just opened the first file when Cooper stepped into the room and announced, “Lord Berkshire is here to call upon you, miss.” He walked over to the desk and extended the calling card. “Are you available for callers?”
She fingered the card in her hand as she took a moment to consider her response. “I suppose I am.”
“I shall send him in, then,” Cooper said, spinning on his heel.
Katherine rose and took a moment to adjust the blue sash tied around the waist of her white gown.
A moment later, a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman strode into the room. He had a square jaw, dark eyebrows, and a strong, commanding presence. He was dressed in a finely tailored blue coat and white linens, and his boots were polished to a mirrorlike shine. His short brown hair was brushed forward, and his long sideburns were neatly trimmed.
Lord Berkshire stopped in the center of the room and bowed stiffly. “Miss Katherine Blackmore, I presume,” his deep, baritone