Page 49 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

Fiona greeted the boys warmly, but did not remain long afterward. “I must get back to Rob and the baby. We’ll see you for supper tonight. Be prepared to talk about your party.” She gave Gwendolyn another hug and hastened home.

James was once again left alone with Gwendolyn. “Do you have something more casual to wear while on the beach? You’ll be getting sand and water on your clothes, so you don’t want to wear anything too fine.”

“Fiona advised me what to bring months ago. I have just the outfits for such outings.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “She advised you? How could she have known I would bring you here?”

“She is a brilliant military strategist and considered all possibilities. She planted this house party idea in my head from the very first.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, but I dismissed it at the time. However, the more difficult you were—and she warned me that you might be—the more obvious it became that we would need to implement the house party strategy.”

In that moment, James realized Fiona had another strategy in mind. Gad, he had been dense as a donkey not to realize her true purpose from the start.

Gwendolyn was never meant to be his matchmaker.

No, indeed. Gwendolyn was always intended to be his match.

Fiona was indeed perceptive, for he was hooked. But would Gwendolyn be so easily drawn in?

Matchmaking the matchmaker. Fiona was more Machiavellian than Machiavelli himself.

Nothing would please him more than to have Gwendolyn as his wife.

But how was he to convince her while the specter of Andrew Clement loomed over them like a chilling fog?

Chapter Ten

Gwendolyn changed into one of her more casual gowns, a lavender muslin that was practical rather than fashionable because it was so plain. No silk trim or lace at the cuffs or squared collar. No need for a fichu either, since the lace might yellow if exposed to salt water and sunlight.

No adornment whatsoever, and the sleeves themselves were not full length but ended just below the elbows. She completed the simple outfit with a pair of soft leather walking boots and a straw sun hat adorned with a lavender ribbon to match her gown.

Since the gown was so plain, she also donned the teardrop necklace. It was a simple adornment and would go nicely with the gown.

Of course, she would never wear it while actually swimming. But she wasn’t going into the water today, since she had no bathing costume to wear.

“The boys will be ready to eat the basket,” Milbury joked as they made their way down to the beach. He carried a large basket laden with food over his right shoulder and a sack that held bottles of lemonade in his left hand. Those bottles clanked as they walked along the path of trampled grass. “They’re usually famished after a swim.”

Gwendolyn had offered to carry the sack, but he would not hear of it. “You are my guest and your sole duty is to enjoy yourself. I do this all the time. The boys or Alfred will help me carry the basket down the beach steps.” She had made no more fuss about it, since he seemed to be managing his burdens with ease.

The man had muscles.

In truth, her heart was fluttering because he looked quite splendid plainly clad in buff trousers and linen shirt. His shoulders looked massively broad, and she could see nicely formed biceps along his arms as the fabric of his shirt molded to his body.

He had a manly body, fully filled out but nicely firm.

“Do you think we might take a ride into Brighton tomorrow?” she asked.

“To acquire bathing costumes for yourself?” He spared a glance at her as she scampered by his side to match his long strides. “Of course. We can take care of ordering engraved invitations for our house party, too. Let’s finalize the list tonight over supper. Fiona will have a word or two, or twenty, to say about which locals to include on the guest list.”

She laughed. “Yes, she does have strong opinions. That’s a good plan.”

“I’ll leave the boys at home tomorrow. They’ll delight in spending their time on the beach and won’t miss us at all. However, we ought to bring Agatha with us to Brighton to fend off any gossip that might arise around you. She can visit her family while we run our chores—that ought to be safe enough for your reputation.”

“Perfect,” she said, now feeling excited about their excursion.

Milbury called down to his sons once they reached the top of the beach stairs. The two of them had just come out of the water, their shirts off but wearing trousers, thankfully.