A Matchmaking Miss Read Free Page A

amusement. "The night can't last forever, you know."
    "No, it can only seem like forever," Joss grumbled, shifting restlessly from one foot to another. Since entering the ballroom he had had the oddest sense of danger, and the feeling had grown too powerful to ignore. Keeping his face expressionless he turned around and let his eyes sweep the room. Nothing.
    "Is everything all right?" Raj was regarding Joss with sharp-eyed interest.
    "It seems to be," Joss admitted, with an uneasy shrug, his senses still prickling. "I just have the oddest feeling someone is watching me." He sent Raj a sheepish look. "It is probably just my imagination," he said with an uneasy laugh.
    Raj lost his easy smile, his face taking on a guarded look. "Perhaps," he agreed, his own eyes moving slowly about the room. "But I've learned to have the greatest respect for those 'feelings' of yours. They've saved both our skins on more than one occasion."
    Joss said nothing, remembering a fire-lit campsite in the mountains. His flash of intuition had been all that had saved him and Raj from being slaughtered in their sleep by thegroup of thieves who had infiltrated their camp. He banished the brutal memories from his mind and gave Raj a half-smile. "That is so," he agreed, feeling foolish. "But as it is unlikely a group of
thugees
followed us here from Calcutta, I'm sure it's nothing more dangerous than some matchmaking mama sizing me up for her insipid daughter."
    "A prospect more terrifying than a dozen deceivers," Raj agreed, although he wasn't smiling. "Do you wish to leave?"
    For a moment Joss was tempted to say yes, an impulse that had him mentally shaking his head in disgust. There was no danger, he told himself firmly, and he was damned if he'd break rank and flee like a green recruit. He was about to make a jest when he saw two rather plainly dressed ladies bearing down on them. He recognized the shorter of the two, as his hostess's companion, but not the tall, dark-haired lady walking confidently at her side. He was wondering who she might be when the two ladies paused in front of him.
    "My lord, I trust you are enjoying yourself?" The shorter lady, a Miss Dickson, if memory served, gave him an anxious smile. "Is there anything you require?"
    "I am fine, Miss Dickson, I thank you," he answered, inclining his head in a polite bow. He felt rather sorry for her, being forced to endureLady Burlingham's senseless chatter, and he was determined to treat her with the same respect he accorded every female he met. "May I say how becoming your gown is?"
    The tide of color that washed over the companion's face came as no surprise to Joss, who expected that she received few such compliments. "Thank you, your lordship, that is very kind of you," she said, tugging on the other woman's arm and dragging her forward. "Sir, if I may I should like to introduce you to my very good friend, Miss . . . er . . . Miss Winkendale. Miss Winkendale, the marquess of Kirkswood."
    "Your lordship." Miss Winkendale dropped a respectful curtsey. "It is an honor to meet you; I have heard much of you in the few days I have been in the city."
    "Miss Winkendale." Joss bowed, wondering why he felt as if the woman had just subtly insulted him. It was something in her eyes, he decided, noting that their ebony-flecked depths met his without a flicker of the shyness that afflicted her friend. Dismissing the notion, he turned to Raj and performed the necessary introductions.
    "Ladies, allow me to present my friend, Mr. Rajana Fitzsimmons. Raj, make your bows to Miss Dickson and Miss Winkendale."
    Raj gave both ladies the benefit of his dazzling smile. "Ladies," and he bowed to both."How delightful to be presented to two flowers of English womanhood. It is an honor."
    Miss Winkendale raised a dark eyebrow. "Fitzsimmons is an Irish name is it not?" she asked, her low voice filled with amusement.
    "It is, ma'am."
    "That would account for it, then." She gave Raj a warm smile. "I have heard the