“Gideon is very well-read, Aunt.” Rochford came to the man’s defense again, but his great-aunt waved away his words.
“Pshaw!” she exclaimed contemptuously. “I am not talking about books, Sinclair. I am talking about his education in the things that count—he cannot dance, and he has no idea how to make polite conversation. The man can barely sit a horse.” She paused to let that horror sink in. “He is much too familiar with the servants and the tenants, yet he scarcely says a word to his family or even the local gentry. Fortunately, we have managed to get him to stay at the Hall most of the time, but now he insists on returning to London.”
“He does have business here,” the duke pointed out mildly.
“And what if someone we know sees him conducting his…business?” Lady Odelia gave a theatrical shudder at the thought.
“Aunt Odelia, I think there is little for anyone to remark upon on seeing a man going into a bank or meeting with his clerks,” Rochford protested, his voice edging into irritation. “Come now, you will make Lady Haughston think that he should be locked up in the attic.”
“Would that I could lock him away,” Lady Odelia retorted.
The duke’s dark brows drew together, and he took a breath before answering her. It occurred to Francesca that she might soon have a battle between these two right here in her sitting room.
“But, Lady Odelia,” she intervened hastily, “I am afraid I still do not quite see what I have to do with all this. How can I introduce him to anyone if he has no interest in Society?”
“She wants you to help her arrange the poor chap’s life for him,” Rochford responded in a biting tone.
Francesca’s eyebrows sailed upward, and she said coolly, “I beg your pardon.”
“Don’t be difficult, Sinclair,” Lady Odelia admonished. “There is no need to snap at Francesca just because you are annoyed with me.”
Rochford’s mouth tightened, and he flashed a hot glance at Francesca, but he bowed his head in polite acquiescence and said, “Of course. Forgive me, Lady Haughston. I meant you no disrespect.”
“Do not worry,” Francesca murmured in a silky tone. “I have learned not to put overmuch importance on what you say.”
She was rewarded by a sardonic look from beneath his brows, but the duke said nothing more.
“It isn’t that I dislike the boy,” Lady Odelia went on, ignoring their exchange. “He is my great-nephew, after all, and I hope it never will be said that I denigrated any of my own blood—although God knows, Bertrand has tested my limits often enough. However, Gideon is a Lilles, at least in part, and it is scarcely his fault that he does not know how to act. So I put my mind to it and came up with a solution.” She paused and looked at Francesca, then announced, “Gideon must marry. And you are just the woman we need.”
“Oh.” Was the woman suggesting that she herself marry the man, Francesca wondered with horror.
“We must attach him to a thoroughly respectable, quite proper woman. One of unquestionable breeding and taste. It is to be hoped that she will be able to influence him, direct him into better behavior. Smooth some of his rough edges and cover up his flaws. And if she cannot, well, at least she will insure that his children will be suitably well-bred.”
Lady Odelia paused, then went on didactically. “A proper marriage goes far in overcoming the taint of scandal. If a woman of impeccable lineage is willing to ally herself to him, then everyone else will prove more amenable to overlooking his various…problems.”
“Well,” Francesca began carefully, “As I said, I should think you would have no problem finding a suitable candidate. Surely there are a number of women of good name who would be quite happy to marry a man who has both Bankes and Lilles blood flowing through his veins, as well, no doubt, as that of several other prominent families.”
“Of course there are,” Lady Odelia said impatiently. “I’ve brought at least five girls to Radbourne Hall and made introductions. The problem is, in more than half those instances, they or their families cry off once they’ve met him. And the rest of them, Gideon has rejected. Imagine…girls I personally vetted, and he disapproves of them.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Francesca offered lamely.
“The Bennington girl does have a squint,” Rochford pointed out. “Miss Farnley is a goose, and Lady Helen is dull as ditchwater.”
“Well, what does that matter?” Lady Odelia queried. “He doesn’t have to talk to them.”
Rochford’s mouth quirked up on one side, but he said only, “Yes. Well, I suspect he would have to at some point.”
“I suppose I should have expected it of him,” his great-aunt opined, ignoring his remark. “The Lord only knows what sort of woman he would prefer. That is another reason why it is so imperative that we find a proper wife for him, and soon. When I think of who he might bring home if left to his own devices…” She shook her head. “Of course, we cannot force him to marry anyone,” she continued, looking quite annoyed at the thought. “So we decided to turn to you.”
She looked at Francesca.
“Everyone says you have had such success in this area. Well, look at the way you matched up that Woodley girl with your brother—though I cannot think but that you could have found someone with a bit more funds to her name. Still, she seems a very pleasant girl.”
“You want me to help find a wife for Lord Radbourne?” Francesca exclaimed, flooded with relief that Lady Odelia was not trying to persuade Francesca herself to marry the man.
“Of course, girl. What have we been talking about this past half hour?” Odelia retorted. “Really, Francesca, you must pay more attention.”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Francesca replied quickly.
“Though I scarcely see how you can manage to marry him off, when all our best efforts have failed,” Lady Odelia went on. “But Rochford assured me that you were best person for the task,” the older woman added.
“Really?” Francesca glanced with some surprise at Lord Rochford.
“Yes,” he answered, and he leaned forward, his face serious. “I hope that you will be able to find the right person for Gideon. The man has suffered quite enough already in his life. He deserves some happiness.”
His black eyes were intent upon her face. Francesca had wondered how Lady Odelia had trapped Rochford into accompanying her on this errand, but she saw now that the duke was here out of a real concern for Lord Radbourne. Unlike his great-aunt, he seemed to hope that Francesca would come up with a wife for Gideon not to please the family, but to help the man.
“If you could come to Radbourne Hall and meet Gideon, see what he is really like, I think that you could find the right woman for him,” the duke went on.
“I see.” Francesca felt strangely touched. Before this, she would have said that he thought her matchmaking efforts were at best harmless foolishness.
“That is precisely the thing,” Lady Odelia agreed. “You must come to the Hall and meet him. Then you’ll understand. And perhaps you might be able to polish him up a bit before he actually meets any of the girls you choose. Whatever else anyone might say about you, your manners are always impeccable.”
“Why, thank you,” Francesca responded drily. “But I am not sure whether I should do this. Whether I can…”
She looked at Lady Odelia, imposing in her outdated purple satin dress and towering hair. Francesca did not relish the idea