The Misguided Matchmaker by Miller Nadine

Author:Miller, Nadine [Miller, Nadine]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: RenegadeBooks
Published: 2015-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Tristan had purchased only the roughest of seaman’s garb for himself—canvas pants, a jersey, duffel coat, and woolen seaman’s cap. But he’d spared no expense on Maddy’s new traveling dress, which was of French cambric, the rich amber color of an autumn maple leaf. It perfectly matched her eyes, as did her fur-trimmed pelisse of Utrecht velvet and the perky, high-crowned bonnet that covered her freshly washed hair.

It was without a doubt the most attractive outfit she had ever owned, and ordinarily she would have been over the moon. But thanks to the depressing conversation she’d had with Tristan, all the joy had gone out of the day for her.

He had made it all too plain that he would never offer for her—not because he didn’t love her, but because his sense of honor forbade it. But what, she wanted to know, did honor have to do with it? As if he hadn’t shown time and time again he was a man of honor despite his unfortunate birth.

Well, she simply would not accept his declaration—as she had already informed him—not unless he told her he didn’t love her, and those words had never crossed his lips. No indeed, she was too much of an optimist to be defeated so easily, as he would soon see. Still, it was frightfully upsetting. And just when she’d been so certain all was going to be well! Nom de Dieu, what kind of weapons did a woman need to combat a man’s misplaced sense of honor—especially a man as pigheaded as Tristan?

In a fog of misery, she climbed into the longboat and, with Tristan beside her, was rowed out to her father’s ship, the masthead of which was a mermaid who bore a striking resemblance to Minette, both in face and torso. Needless to say, this did nothing to dispel Maddy’s gloom.

The longboat circled the hull to where the rope ladder was hung and, raising her eyes, she saw the name emblazoned on the side of her father’s brig—The Madelaine.

“He named his ship after me.” Instinctively, she turned to Tristan, tears misting her eyes. “All those years when I was so certain my father cared nothing for me, this ship was sailing the oceans with my name on it.” She choked back a sob and accepted the clean, folded handkerchief Tristan pressed into her fingers—one of the four he had purchased on their shopping tour of Calais. What with one thing and another, her emotions were very close to the surface at the moment, and this newest revelation touched her deeply.

What a wondrous, topsy-turvy carnival her quiet little world had become, and none of it would have happened if this stubborn, impossible, stiff-necked Englishman hadn’t come seeking her in Lyon. She regarded him solemnly, her heart in her eyes.

“Damn it, Maddy; get that blasted puppy-dog look off your face.” Tristan’s voice was harsh, his mouth a thin slash of disapproval. “Now climb up the ladder so we can get underway.”

With one last swipe of her brimming eyes, Maddy folded his handkerchief and put it in her pocket.

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