Page 113 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
There was a knock at the door, and when Jo opened it, a young, familiar-looking man stood there. He doffed his hat. “I’m looking for Mrs. Porter.”
She smiled up at him, his height reminding her of Matthew’s. “Good afternoon, sir. I am Joanna Porter.”
“I should like to seeMrs. Porter.”
“That is I.”
He frowned. “Are…are you certain? I am sorry—it is simply that you don’t look old enough—”
She raised her hand, effectively stopping him. “I assure you, I am.” And now, she actually was a Mrs., though no one would ever call her that. No, it would always be, “Your Grace.” How odd that was, and even after a few weeks of being a duchess, the strangeness of her changed circumstances still churned through her every now and then.
All the important people, the people who knew her, especially Matthew, knew that she was the same Jo she always had been. That would never change. But people who didn’t know her—oh, my. Their perceptions of her had changed, indeed.Dramatically.
So it was a bit refreshing that this young man didn’t know her at all. Didn’t know she was a clergyman’s daughter who’d recently married a duke of the realm and was now a duchess. He simply knew what Sir Harry had told him—that Mrs. Porter was a matchmaker extraordinaire, that she guaranteed love and happiness between the ladies and gentlemen she helped bring together.
“Oh, well, my apologies,” the young man said, looking quite unconvinced.
She smiled at him and gestured him inside. “No apologies are necessary. Please, come inside and have a seat.” Closing the door behind him, she sat at her desk across from him. “How may I help you this afternoon?”
He took a deep breath and then let it out. “I would like to be married.”
“That’s wonderful. I have a great deal of experience in finding excellent matches for—”
He cut her off. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Porter, but I don’t think you understand. I already know who I desire to marry. You see, I just require…assistancein making my dream a reality.”
Jo stared at him.
“Do you understand?”
Jo held up her hand. “I think we forgot a crucial element.” He really did look familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place him. “May I know your name?”
“Oh. Right.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Forgive me. My name is Thomas Gifford.”
Mr. Gifford—who’d danced with Harriet, called upon her twice, whisked her away at Vauxhall, and then sent her a monstrosity of a bouquet of roses. Mr. Gifford—the object of Harriet Cherrington’s affection. No wonder he looked familiar. He and Jo had met briefly at Lady Campbell’s ball when he’d asked Harriet to dance, but he only had eyes for Harriet, and Jo only had eyes for Matthew.
“Mr. Gifford,” Jo breathed. “You say you already know the young lady to whom you wish to be matched?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“So…why don’t you simply ask if you might court her?”
He swallowed again, then looked away. “I’ve been given the strong impression that I…well, that I am not good enough for her family. They seem to believe that she should marry someone of great power, influence, and wealth. A duke, perhaps.”
Oh, Lord. Jo fought a smile.
“And I am simply a gentleman with a moderate fortune, nothing more. I fear they will reject me on that basis alone.”
Perhaps not, thought Jo. “Will you tell me the name of this young lady?” she asked.
He gave a jerky nod. “Of course. Her name is Miss Harriet Cherrington.” Then, seeing her lips curve, he added worriedly, “Do you know her?”
“I do,” she said gently, and when his eyes widened in alarm, she raised her hand. “Don’t worry, Mr. Gifford. I will not betray your confidence.”
The fact was, Jo knew something that Thomas Gifford didn’t. And it was this: The day after Jo and Matthew had married, Lilly had received an official offer from John Nash. He wanted to use her church designs throughout London where the churches were crowded, and more needed to be built. He wished to remodel some of the London theaters and other public spaces and had asked Lilly for assistance with those.
But the biggest project would entail John Nash’s use of her whimsical palace design. It turned out that he was redesigning the prince regent’s estate in Brighton to something that would represent the modern aesthetic and royal grandeur of the man who would someday be king. He thought that Lilly’s design would be perfect. She would be working closely with Mr. Nash and the regent, and as they wanted to use her conceptual idea of the space and employ her in helping to finalize the plans, she had already received a large sum in advance.
Enough to ensure that not only could she marry Charles Cherrington, but she could provide a handsome dowry for each of his sisters, as well.
