The Matchmaker's Surrender by Tammy L. Bailey

Her interest grew the moment her carriage pulled away: she noticed another vehicle rumble by to stop just outside Mr. Her body felt heavy, and her mind raced with questions and curiosity. Waverley and Jane’s carriage was brought around, it was almost one in the morning. Nicholas Waverley ever appeared so anxious and uncharismatic.īy the time both Mrs. Not once in the short time Jane had known him had Mr. On her aunt’s arm, Jane left the house, disappointed and confused. Waverley sent her son a displeasing look before returning her attention back to Jane. Waverley who was preparing to leave the townhouse. His jaw dropped, and she stood, lifting her gloved hand to tap his chin closed. “I think I liked you better when you were predictable and unpretentious, Mr. Jane held up her hand for him to not waste his time. He sent his mother a sheepish look before nodding toward Jane with a tight smile. “Nicholas Vincent Waverley! Apologize to her at once,” his mother scolded from the other room. “You’re not very good at following directions are you, Miss Dalton?” His mother whispered what seemed like words of disapproval before Nicholas strode toward Jane, stopped, and towered over her, breathing exasperatedly. Just then, Jane’s aunt gave a loud sort of snort, startling Mr. I’ve heard several ladies dare to call you a libertine! Don’t you know you cannot flirt your entire life or charm your way into a lady’s good graces?” “Besides, shouldn’t there be a balance of ladies and gentlemen in attendance? What you arranged was an intimate audition of single females to see who would best suit me as a wife.” He exhaled and ran a hand through his thick blond hair. “You knew the location of my townhouse was private and undisclosed. Tonight, you were supposed to return to Oxfordshire.” He paused to draw in an impatient breath.

“How could you dismiss everyone so cruelly, Nicholas? You know I’ve been planning to hold a party here.” Waverley and his unhappy mother’s conversation echoed into the room Jane and her aunt occupied, seemingly forgotten in the flurry of departing ladies.

Waverley shuffle out his remaining guests, much to the chagrin of his mother. She sank hesitantly onto a scroll-end sofa with a gold satin stripe, and, anchored to her seat, watched Mr.

With perspiration gathering in the most delicate of places, Jane discarded her shawl and went to join her aunt.

The Matchmaker's Surrender by Tammy L. Bailey