Chapter 21

“Anna, wait!”

She turned sharply, half hoping that it was Percival in pursuit of her, as she hurriedly tried to smear the tears away from her face. But her heart sank when she saw that it was not Percival.

“Dickie, please. I do not wish to be disturbed. I am just going to walk alone for a while until I feel better. I do not need company, and I do not want a chaperone.” She sucked in a frantic breath. “I need to be on my own. I have had a very trying evening and?—”

Her brother caught up to her, almost knocking her flat as he put his arms around her, pulling her into the kind of tight, brotherly hug that was only going to make her tears worse.

“What is the meaning of this, little sister?” Dickie murmured. “This is not like you.”

Anna did not know whether to push him away or hug him tighter. “I do not know what you mean.”

“You have been around the ton long enough to know that you should not be alone with a gentleman who is not your family,” he told her, his voice thick with nerves. “Worse, you should know not to be seen by anyone if you do plan to be alone with a gentleman who is not a member of your family.”

Anna stared over Dickie’s shoulder to the low lights of the Orangery, where she could just see two shapes who appeared to be in the midst of an animated discussion.

“He is not going to hit Percival, is he?” she whispered. “He did nothing wrong. He thought… I was meeting Lord Luminport in secret, but when I explained, he… offered comfort. Friendly comfort, nothing more.”

The sort of comfort I have never known to be possible and would have again if I thought he could love me, but he cannot. It was shameful—he said as much. Percival’s kiss repeated in her mind, so soft and sweet and exhilarating that she had to wonder if she had dreamed it up. It was the kind of thing her mind would do, playing cruel tricks upon her, blurring the lines between her beloved books and reality. It was not outlandish to believe that she had muddled the two.

Dickie pulled back, holding her by her shoulders. “It is not just this instance though, dearest Anna. You have been acting strangely with Percy ever since the ball at Westyork, where he danced with Lady Caroline. You are always whispering and glancing at one another, and if there is something between you, then you must tell me. This must be remedied before gossip can circulate that will ruin you. My darling sister, you know that gentlemen emerge relatively unscathed, while ladies do not. It is unjust, yes, but it is the truth.”

“There is nothing between us, and that is the trouble,” Anna replied, exasperated to the point of snapping. “There is nothing between me and anyone. I have devoted my life to love and the pursuit of it, and yet I am left on the shelf, a book that no one wants to read. And who would, for it has no happy ending!”

Dickie grimaced. “Anna, that is simply not true. There are… many gentlemen who admire you and would marry you.”

“Gentlemen twice my age or twice married or cruel or dismissive or unbothered by what sort of bride they end up with,” Anna shot back. “Simon was supposed to be my last chance, and guess what—he does not want me either! He wants Caro, because she is young and she is fearless and she is confident and if I were a gentleman, I would choose her over me, too!”

Dickie gripped her shoulders tighter. “Lord Luminport has cast you aside?”

“Lord Luminport never wanted me in the first place!” Anna retorted. “I was a means to get closer to Caro. Failing that, a distraction from the fact he could not have Caro.”

“Oh…” Dickie puffed out a strained breath. “Well, no matter. Look at all the ladies who have been in your position, who have found love over the past few years. Ladies who thought they had no hope, only to find it in the most unexpected places.” He paused, nodding his head. “We shall put a notice in the newspaper, asking for the assistance of The Matchmaker to find you a gentleman who will love you as you love them.”

Anna burst out laughing, a high, shrill, maniacal sort of laugh that would have startled the birds out of the trees if she had been standing close enough. It was everyone else’s solution to the problem of spinsterhood or life as a miserable bachelor, but not hers. Indeed, if she could not laugh at the ridiculousness of that, then she would explode with the infuriation of it.

“They are very successful,” Dickie said, looking at Anna as if he was wondering whether to restrain her or not. “I do not see what is funny about it. Do you think they would not respond to an open call for assistance?”

Anna’s laughter faded, tears falling as she looked her brother dead in the eyes. “It is funny,” she said, “because I cannot help myself. I will not manipulate my methods in order to benefit my own loneliness. Yes, I could write to a wealthy, handsome Earl or Duke, and tell them that Lady Anna is their true match, but it is the one thing I will not do—I will not be disingenuous or deceitful, for that would destroy the very foundations of what I believe in. I have thought about it, of course, but… I cannot do it. Love should not begin on a lie.”

“What do you mean?” Dickie furrowed his brow, tilting his head like a dog hearing an unusual sound. “I was not suggesting we forge The Matchmaker’s letters. I mean, we could ask them to help you.”

“And I am telling you that I cannot help myself.” Anna shook her head. “I am The Matchmaker, Dickie. It has always been me. And what makes it all the more hilarious is that I am still dedicating my life to love, but never my own. In truth, I am starting to wonder if that is the price for the talent I have been given.”

Dickie released his hold on her, stepping back as if she were a stranger. “What?”

“You do not believe me?” She laughed coldly. “Who would? Who would believe that a hopeless spinster like me could be so gifted in the art of pairing others together? It is, perhaps, the greatest twist of irony I know.”

Shaking his head, Dickie paused to take a breath. “I need a moment.”

“Percival knows,” she continued regardless. “The reason we may have been acting ‘strangely’ is because he asked me to match him with someone. I said he ought to choose whom he prefers, and I would help, but he is proving to be very stubborn when it comes to making a decision.”

“Percy knows?”

“I interfered on Caro’s behalf. I do not make a habit of it when it comes to those who need no help with love and romance, but I knew Percival was not right for her,” she explained. “I might have encouraged you in your pursuit of her, but you said yourself that you are not right for her. Perhaps, you have a similar talent to me. Perhaps, it is in our blood, for we were born of a love so true and rare.”

Dickie swept a hand through his hair. “Does anyone else know what you are?”

“No one.”

“Not your friends?”

“No one,” she repeated, feeling as if a weight had been lifted.

Beatrice had always said that once a secret was shared, it was no longer a secret. She had never mentioned that a secret shared could feel like a burden halved, and at least Anna knew she could trust her brother not to relay it to anyone else. Max, perhaps, but no one beyond their family.

“So, The Matchmaker cannot help you?” Dickie mustered a faint smile, clearing still struggling to process all he had heard.

“She cannot.”

Dickie nodded. “And there is truly nothing of note between you and Percy?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly, hating the hollowness of that word.

It was a mistake. He did not know what he was doing—that is what he said. It had crushed her in the Orangery, and it crushed her afresh now. Her first kiss, stolen by someone who had never intimated that he even liked her, not beyond a strange friendship, anyway. She did not want to regret it, but it already felt like it was too late for that.

“Indeed, I am preparing to send a letter to Lady Joan tomorrow,” she added. “He ought to be married by the end of summer.”

Dickie took a breath. “We ought to depart.”

“Pardon?”

“Gossip will already be spreading, but Max ought to be able to quieten any unrest,” Dickie replied. “Percy should be able to assist in that if Max can convince him to. But you should not be here. Come, let us find the carriage and return home, and hope that everything is well in the morning.”

At that moment, an almighty explosion frightened Anna out of her skin. The sky filled with a rainbow of light, sparkling bursts erupting into the darkness, coming from that secret project that the men had been undertaking by the fishpond.

She peered up as an enormous golden star shattered into streams of twinkling bronze, and her heart lurched.

Slowly, she turned toward the terrace outside the ballroom, horrified to find most of the guests standing there. They were a fair distance from where Anna and Dickie were standing, and had previously been steeped in shadow, but how far had the two of their voices carried? She had not been as quiet as she should have been, and neither had Dickie, but surely the guests could not have overheard too much.

“I will say farewell to my friends first,” Anna said, darting away before Dickie could stop her. She needed to know what they knew; she would not be able to rest until she did.

“Anna, stop!” Dickie called after her.

She continued running, hitching up her skirts as she flew toward the terrace. Taking the steps up two at a time, she searched the clustered row of faces, illuminated and shadowed in turn by the detonation of more fireworks. Many were staring right at her, but many more were staring at the light display above—a good sign, surely.

Spotting the Spinsters’ Club halfway down the terrace, she weaved through the crowd to get to them. But as she approached, one face turned up their nose and with a subtle shake of her head, she disappeared through the nearest door and back into the manor.

“Where is Caro going?” Anna gasped, skidding to a halt.

The other four exchanged uncertain glances, but it was Phoebe who spoke, as if she had been chosen to address Anna on the Spinsters’ Club’s behalf.

“Is it true?” Phoebe asked, her tone hushed beneath the thunderous explosions of the fireworks. “Are you really The Matchmaker? Did you really intervene to prevent the Duke of Granville from pursuing Caro?”

Panic ricocheted through Anna’s chest, a feverish sweat prickling on her brow. “Where did you hear such a thing?”

“Caro was out here just before the fireworks began,” Phoebe replied. “She heard you and your brother. I believe there are a few others who may have heard, for they were also out here. The Countess instructed a few to go first, in the hopes it would encourage the rest of us to follow for her ‘midnight surprise,’ as she called it.”

Matilda stepped forward. “Why did you not tell us, dearest Anna?”

Olivia nodded, looking somewhat hurt. “I thought we did not keep secrets from one another, yet… you are The Matchmaker. Perhaps, the most famous and beloved person in society, at present, and… you did not tell us. Do you not trust us anymore?”

“It was… I was… I do not know how to explain it, but…” Anna floundered, wishing she had her fan to cool her face. “How many people heard what was said?”

Leah shook her head. “We do not know, but there have been whisperings.”

“If we had known, we could have intervened,” Matilda said. “This is not like you, Anna. We could have helped to protect your secret.”

Anna swallowed, but it did nothing to moisten her dry throat. “I do wish people would stop saying that this is not ‘like me.’ Am I not permitted to evolve with my circumstances?”

“That is not what I was saying, Anna,” Matilda said gently. “I just mean, it is unlike you to keep secrets from us.”

Anna could feel tears prickling, hot and embarrassing. “I have barely seen any of you, these past years,” she said, not in accusation but in explanation. “My ‘secret’ seemed so unimportant compared with your new lives, and there never seemed like an apt moment to bring it up. Rather, it felt like something I could… nurture for myself. As for why I kept it secret—you are the most intelligent ladies I know; I am certain you can understand my reasoning.”

“You should not have interfered,” Phoebe said, her tone gentle but still disapproving. “You should have allowed Caro to decide if she favored His Grace or not. I believe you may have swayed her opinion because you do not like him.”

Anna’s breath caught in her throat, thinking of the kiss she had shared with him in the Orangery. The single most thrilling moment of her life, where a page of her most cherished books had come to life, and she had been the heroine. Then, followed by the single most devastating moment of her life, realizing that he had not meant to do it, that he was ashamed of what he had done. Yet, she could not say that to her friends, either.

“I… thought I was doing the right thing,” she said quietly.

Matilda put a protective arm around her shoulders. “I am certain that you did. You have not been wrong before, little Matchmaker.” She smiled, but it did nothing to ease Anna’s racing heart. “Now, I know you may be uncomfortable with the gossip, but at least this has taken everyone’s attention away from the rumor that you were seen alone with the Duke of Granville. I believe you have squashed it entirely, in truth, for it was Lord Luminport who started to spread it, and now that everyone is aware that his intentions were for Caro, no one will believe it. It sounds like nothing more than jealousy toward the Duke.”

Anna felt suddenly sick. “Everyone heard that, too?”

“The part about Lord Luminport using you to get closer to Caro—yes, unfortunately. Caro heard, which means others did,” Leah said, putting a hand on Anna’s forearm. “I am so very sorry, sweet Anna. You did not deserve that.”

Anna looked to Phoebe, who still wore a disapproving frown. “I did not mean for any of this to happen. I promise, I was not trying to manipulate Caro. I just… want true love and happiness for her, and I think I know Percival well enough to understand that he could never provide that. He does not even believe in love. He wanted to pursue her because of your husband, Phoebe, to improve his prospects and his social standing.”

“But love might have blossomed,” Phoebe replied. “It was not your place to decide for her.”

Matilda cast Phoebe a sharp look. “Of course it was. Caro is our friend. Would you not intervene if you thought a friend was making a mistake? Why, I have heard you intervene. Do not make this any worse for Anna than it already is.” She gave Anna’s shoulders a squeeze. “Besides, all you need do is look at her success to understand that she is an expert at what she does.”

“But I fear opinion will change,” Olivia interjected, her expression sorrowful. “I mean no offense, Anna, but society will begin to question your ability, regardless of your success. Goodness, I do hope it does not cause any of your matches to reconsider their affection for one another.”

On the brink of crumbling entirely, Anna managed to choke out, “And that is precisely why I needed to keep it a secret. A secret once shared is not a secret anymore.”

And now, the burden she had thought to be halved was now doubly heavy upon her shoulders, for she knew she was about to lose everything she had worked so diligently to achieve. Her friends knew it, the whispering guests knew it, and that was a greater heartbreak than any gentleman had ever inflicted. Almost any gentleman.

“If you will excuse me, I have a hermitage to retreat to.” Anna bowed her head and slipped free of Matilda’s protective arm, hurtling back through the crowd with her eyes fixed on the flagstones, until someone caught her as she was about to run down from the terrace.

“All will be well,” Dickie whispered, holding her steady. “I promise, all will be well.”

Anna allowed herself to be led away, as she whispered, “Dickie, do not make promises that cannot be kept.”

By tomorrow, her secret would be out, splashed across the pages of the scandal sheets. The Matchmaker’s reign of joy and hope was over, for, as everyone kept alluding, who could trust in the efforts of a woman who could not even find love for herself? Indeed, who could trust a woman who had been kissed once and rejected twice, all in the same evening?