Page 7 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

“Not so very old.”

“Well, nearer to death than I have been to birth in many decades.” She sighed and stared at him. “I want to see great-grandchildren before I die, Jasper. Being as you barely attended two events this season⁠—”

“How would you even know that?” He almost grabbed the remainder of the jam tart, but thought better of it. “And the season only started a fortnight ago.”

Bess quieted his outburst with a lift of her brow. “I may not live in London, but I have many acquaintances who have remained.”

Old biddies who linger on the fringes of ballrooms, critiquing the food and decor while sharing gossip on prospective couples. Old women with nothing but endless stretches of time to meddle.

How very irritating.

Bess clasped her hands over the top of her cane. “If you do not go to balls, you will never find a young lady to wed.”

“I haven’t even received any recent inv⁠—”

But Bess pulled out an envelope from some hidden pocket in the frilly gray frock she wore. “Oh, would you look at this? An invitation to Lady Gentry’s ball tonight!”

“That was from my desk in my office.” Irritation prickled up his neck. “I dare say, did Hughes give you that?” Jasper looked behind him where Hughes peered around the doorway and promptly disappeared, a guilty party to be sure.

Bess simply lifted her chin with a benign expression and said, “I do not reveal my sources.”

So, definitely Hughes then.

“Please.” Bess’s face softened. “Please just go and try to find a young woman with whom you might find some semblance of affection.”

Jasper resisted the urge to sulk. Bess never asked anything of him. And it was only one ball.

“I won’t live forever.” She spoke in a feeble voice.

“That’s laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?” he muttered.

“I can go thicker.” She extended the invitation toward him, her hand trembling as she gave a weak cough.

“Oh, do stop this nonsense.” He snatched the invitation from her. “We both know you’re immortal.”

“I’ll be no such thing until I have a great-grandchild.” She perked up immediately and beamed a smile in his direction. “And until I see you happily wed to a young woman, I’ll be remaining in London.”

He nodded distractedly, already dreading the night.

“In fact, I’ll be staying here,” she added. “To ensure you actually try to find a wife.”

He lifted the invitation toward her. “I take it you’ll be joining me?”

“Of course. How else could I provide my opinion on who would be a suitable match for you.” Her eyes sparkled. “This is going to be such fun.”

But Jasper knew that despite having his grandmother close to him once more, the process of her procuring a wife for him would be decidedly not fun.

2

Elizabeth stood beside the refreshment table at Gentry Place amid a roomful of revelers. Men and women gossiped and flirted all around her while couples twirled in resplendent silks across a glossy dance floor.

Kitty was dancing with a young gentleman who gazed at her like an adoring puppy. One of the many adoring puppies who followed her around that night. And Grace was, of course, with Viscount Scorbridge, their eyes fastened to one another’s as if the room full of people had entirely disappeared.

Elizabeth wished she could disappear. Certainly that was a better fate than being asked to dance again. She scanned the crowd, glad to see Jillian was being relinquished by an earl her father had insisted she dance with. Likewise, Amy was returning from her set with a man old enough to be her grandsire as she’d been too polite to turn him down.

Another glance about the room confirmed Lucy still hadn’t arrived, a mite beyond fashionably late.

The lemonade in Elizabeth’s hand had long since gone tepid, but she still took a sip. More for something to do than out of thirst. The tart sweetness hit her tongue with a cloying note.