“I’m not trying to help,” Gertie said. “I don’t want to marry Nottingvale. I never did. He scares me, but he doesn’t scare you. I’d be a wretched match for him, and you know it.”
Cynthia closed her eyes. Shedidknow it. That didn’t change the facts.
“If I return you home without a betrothal—”
“Who said without a betrothal?” Gertie took Max from Cynthia. “I said not aduke. I didn’t say no one. The tavern-keeper’s son—”
“—is the son of a tavern-keeper. Your father would send me to Newgate before he’d allow that union to happen.”
“Then you’ll find the right suitor.” Gertie beamed at her with complete confidence. “You’re a wonderful matchmaker, Cynthia Louise. You’ve matched yourself to the Duke of Nottingvale—”
“He wants tokissme, not court me.”
“—and if there’s a gentleman out there for me, you’ll find him.” Gertie snuggled her face between Max’s floppy ears. “I wish I didn’t have to marry anyone at all, but I trust you.” Her smile wobbled. “If you say you’ve found someone who will please Fatherandme, I promise not to say no.”
“Oh, Gertie.” Cynthia pulled her cousin and the puppy into her embrace. “I wish you didn’t have to marry until you were ready either. I wish all of the debutantes at this party had time to be themselves before they’re forced to become someone else.”
But they didn’t have time.
They had five days.
Chapter 7
By the following evening, the ballroom had devolved into mutiny.
It was time to dance. The famous musicians from London had not arrived. Might never arrive.
As much as the debutantes wished to impress Nottingvale with how accomplished they were at the pianoforte, none of them wanted to miss their opportunity to dance with the duke.
“I’ll do it,” said Gertie. “I’ll play for the rest of the party.”
Cynthia swung out an arm to block her cousin’s forward movement. “No. I shan’t make you marry anyone who doesn’t suit, including the duke, but there are dozens of other gentlemen in this ballroom. If you’re not going to entertain the thought of Nottingvale, then you must promise every dance with a new gentleman until you find someone you like.”
“Everydance?” Gertie repeated doubtfully. “What if I played the pianoforte for eight out of ten dances? Ilikethe pianoforte. I would marry the pianoforte. The pianoforte and I are an excellent match.”
“Tell that to your father,” Cynthia said, then wished she hadn’t.
Gertiehadtold her father. It had been the only occasion in Cynthia’s knowledge of Gertie standing up for herself to the earl.
It had been a disaster.
A “professional” pianist?bellowed the earl, his face livid.No daughter of mine...
Gertie hadn’t got a single word in edgewise.
Afterward, she rarely spoke at all. Not to her father. She poured her frustrations into the keys and disappeared into her music.
I’ll turn that deuced contraption into kindling,said the earl.If you haven’t a suitor by the end of the year, I’ll find one for you!
Four days remained, and already the earl had made good on his promise. An oily lech who thought nothing of trading a choice piece of land for a bride forty years his junior.
Unless Cynthia worked a Christmas miracle before the end of the party.
“Promise me,” she told Gertie. “You’ll dance with a different man every set until you’ve met them all. And you’llconsiderthem. You’ll try to talk and be yourself and see if you might suit. After we find your match, I’ll break the news of your betrothal to your father.”
Gertie’s face was white, but she nodded jerkily. “I’ll dance.”
“You have no choice,” Cynthia said softly. “Not if you want any hope to control your future. Meanwhile—”
