To Marry and to Meddle by Martha Waters

Author:Martha Waters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2022-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Hosting a dinner party in his own home, Julian thought, was surprisingly enjoyable. He’d never been in the habit of entertaining—as a bachelor, the logistics of hosting a dinner party had always seemed somewhat beyond him, and both Laverre and Bridgeworth, his closest friend from Oxford, were married, so it was easy enough to dine at their homes, to which he was frequently invited. The rest of his set—other friends from Oxford, acquaintances from the theater world—were either unmarried or had wives who wanted nothing to do with the scandalous Julian Belfry, so his evenings with them were passed in gentlemen’s clubs and gaming hells and even less savory environs. Never at his home, across a table laid with gleaming china and polished silver, waiting for a soup course to be presented.

And yet, at the moment, that was precisely where he found himself.

Emily had suggested the idea of a dinner party several days earlier, noting that her friends were now returned to town and it would be nice to gather everyone together; furthermore, she had hinted significantly, it would be a perfect opportunity for him to introduce her to his friends, something he had rather shamefully failed to do so far. Julian had felt a bit sheepish about that, because truly, he should have done so—Bridgeworth and Jemma, his wife, would be entirely respectable company for Emily, and furthermore, he actually thought they would all get on quite well. But he’d been busy, and he wasn’t accustomed to having a wife to care for, or about, and so he’d put it off. But tonight, both Bridgeworth and Jemma were coming, as were Audley and Violet, Willingham and Diana, Penvale, Laverre and his wife, Lucie, and—in what Julian strongly suspected was a bit of matchmaking, though Emily innocently protested otherwise—the Marquess of Weston and Lady Fitzwilliam Bridewell. West, being Audley’s elder brother, did join their party on occasion, and Julian knew that Emily and her friends had befriended Lady Fitzwilliam that summer, but he still smelled a rat.

“If West and Lady Fitzwilliam wish to resume their romance,” he’d said lazily as he perused the proposed guest list a few days earlier, “I think they’re perfectly capable of managing it without your interference.”

“Hmm,” Emily had said, the noise implying a great degree of skepticism even if said skepticism was not expressed verbally. “If I were attempting to matchmake—and I will admit to doing no such thing; I think quite enough people’s romantic lives have been interfered with among this set of late—I would feel compelled to note that I have yet to see any evidence that men are capable of working things out without a fair degree of outside assistance.”

“I believe I managed my courtship and marriage without any interference from your meddling friends,” he responded smugly. “I wasted no time in securing my prize.”

Emily blinked at him. Twice. He had been married to her just—just—long enough to know that two blinks signaled danger.

“You make me sound like a fat pig to be won at the village fete,” she said.

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