aroline had never felt so motivated in her life. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t attempt in order to see two people getting married with the help of her matchmaking ability. Well, not that she had claimed she had one, although she certainly had the inclination on such task, and there was Lord Stefan being besotted with her cousin Sophie, and although she was yet to perceive his attentions, (because in truth Caroline had never actually seen the man endeavoring to make his attentions known) surely a little nudging would do to make them bind together for marriage. And Caroline, the pertly meddlesome and annoyingly determined Caroline, (she did not mind being those adjectives) would see it possible. Make it possible, even.

The mere thought of this made her giddy inside, and so, humming to herself, she decided to hunch over her embroidery in the drawing room to make herself occupied while waiting for Stefan’s arrival. Sophie joined her a few minutes later, clutching her own hoop.

“Have I told you that Lord Stefan would call upon us today?” Caroline asked offhandedly.

Her cousin’s brows rose, completely surprised with the piece of information. “No, you haven’t.”

“Hmmm… Well, perhaps he is on his way here.”

“I daresay he is. But,” Sophie laid her embroidery on her lap and looked at her pointedly, “you could have told me earlier about his visit.”

Caroline shrugged and said, “I forgot to tell you, but it doesn’t really signify at all.” She grinned and casted an appraising eye on Sophie. “You always look in your best, so no need to fuss on it.”

“And what, dear cousin, does that suppose to mean?”

“You don’t need to fix yourself, because you look very well and pretty.”

Sophie arched a delicate eyebrow at this overflowing compliment. Not that Caroline did not often pay her flatteries, as she was aware that her young cousin always admired her, only that something was definitely hovering on her remark. “What does it have to do with Lord Stokeford’s calling upon us?”

“Surely you wouldn’t want to look less presentable when he is here, would you?” Caroline replied. Her wide green eyes might appear all innocent, but Sophie knew better.

“Caroline, what are you up to now?”

“Nothing, really,” she fibbed and darted her gaze to the embroidery again.

“Caroline!”

She looked up again, only to see the narrowing blue eyes of Sophie. “What?”

Just then, the butler had appeared on the doorway, intoning that they have visitors. Robert entered the drawing room with easeful strides with Stefan in tow.

“Hullo!” he said with unaffected amiability. Caroline hadn’t expected Robert, but as it happened, she was pleased to seeing him again.

“Lord March and Lord Stokeford! How lovely of you both to come visit us,” Sophie remarked smilingly.

“Believe me, there is nothing lovelier to spend this afternoon than to be with the company of such beautiful young ladies,” Robert answered with flourish, being the debonair he was, and grinned.

Caroline smiled at him, and then to Stefan, who was tongue-tied ever since stepping foot in their drawing room. His expression was uncharacteristically blank, eyeing the unfolding exchange with reserve. This wasn’t an auspicious way to start a courtship, and Caroline had the urge to kick him on the shin and shout, “WILL YOU PLEASE SAY SOMETHING?”

But instead she just gave him a tight smile.

Tight, since it was meant a scowl. “How are you today, Lord Stokeford?”

Stefan stared at her for a full five seconds, as though he didn’t quite comprehend her question. Then, he blinked twice and cleared his throat. “I am very well, thank you,” he answered. Apparently, that was all he had to say.

Sophie looked at him and smiled, saying, “Would you join us for tea? I’ve just told Cook to prepare one, and biscuits as well. Please, sit and make yourself comfortable.”

She would make a lovely host, Caroline thought amusedly and allowed a little smile. Sophie was intelligent and kind and very gentle, the perfect woman for Lord Stokeford. Isn’t this all romantic?, she thought as she was plunged into another bout of woolgathering, and took the liberty of envisioning herself as a devoted aunt to the future Lady Stokeford’s adorable children.

Her reverie was cut off the moment the maid laid the tray on the table, bearing freshly baked biscuits and a pot of tea. She was almost drooling from it. For a fleeting moment, they lounged comfortably on their seats, relishing on their cups of tea.

Stefan knew he had to say something earlier, but the words simply could not be spitted out from his lips the moment his eyes fell on Sophie. True, he wasn’t as loquacious as Robert, probably not the sort who was quite gifted with verbal aptitudes, and to stand there with mouth totally zipped while his mind was somehow full to the brim of notions of courtship was simply a failure. Really, he ought to talk, ought to be more open if he wanted to win Sophie.

But then, as he was about to open his mouth and ask Sophie of how did she fare at Lady Ashton’s ball last night, Caroline had already spoken first.

Of course, his lordship thought grumpily, she has always something to say.

“Sophie likes to bake as well. In fact she’s quite apt on it.” Unsurprisingly, this statement was being addressed to him, and it hit him then that Caroline was making an opening for him. Brava.

But then again, no sooner had he uttered the first syllable of his reply than Robert had inadvertently suppressed it with his own. Drat it! The fates were up against him, it seemed.

“I say, Miss Winscott, you never fail to amaze me,” he remarked charmingly.

“Thank you. Baking isn’t difficult, really. One could actually learn it through keen observation in the kitchen.”

“Well, haven’t seen my sister and mother ventured in the kitchen. God knows what would happen if they do.”

Sophie chuckled. “Oh, but they hardly need to go to the kitchen, I daresay.”

Robert grinned and replied, “Quite right. Cook is rather sufficient.” He grabbed a biscuit from the plate and shoved it to his mouth. “My, this is delicious.”

Caroline fell silent for a moment and began to ponder at the wisdom of having Lord March here. It seemed that he had the very talent of leading the conversation, one of which Stefan sorely lacked. Then, just when she thought that he was quite hopeless in poking into conversation, he surprised her by clearing his throat and declared, “Wouldn’t it be, ah, nice to take a stroll outside? It is a pity to waste such a lovely afternoon.”

She almost leaped from her seat.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, they found themselves in the Hyde Park, Sophie in the arms of Stefan (as well should be) and Caroline in Robert’s. It was indeed a lovely afternoon—the sun shining brightly and the sky seemed bluer than ever.

“You look quite happy, Miss Davis.”

She turned and smiled at Robert. “Indeed, I am.”

“I cannot help but wonder. May I ask why?”

“My, a bit nosy, aren’t we?”

Robert let out a hearty chuckle. “Only when it is convenient. Tell me Miss Davies,” he motioned to the pair just a few feet ahead of them, “what do you think of our promising couple?”

“Oh, I think they suit perfectly!” Caroline gazed at them with obvious delight. There was something Stefan had said that made Sophie smile. Sure enough, he was making a bit of a progress.

“I rather like Lord Stokeford,” she said softly.

“Really? That’s a relief.”

At the unvoiced question lingering on her green eyes, Robert shrugged and explained, “A lot of people tend to judge him. Quite harshly, sometimes. It seems that Stefan is quite immune to the lot of them. But I could not just swallow the thought of those fools hurling insults at his back.”

His countenance had turned into something which Caroline had not seen on his usual cheery façade. He looked at her with piercing, yet very earnest gaze and added, “Because I care for him, and that I will hold in high regard those people who like my friend, few might they be. I am jolly glad that you rank among them, Miss Davis.”

“Thank you. And please, just call me Caroline,” she replied and smiled warmly at the remarkable man beside her. It was quite rare to see such depth between friendship, especially that of the male sex. And who could have guess that the devil-may-care charmer Lord Robert March was, indeed, a very sensitive and loyal friend to one who was often subjected to animadversions of society. It was a priceless bond they shared, and Caroline could only marvel on it.

Robert patted her hand in a most paternal fashion. “We’ve gained a friendship of sorts, aren’t we? Then you must call me Robert.”

She nodded jauntily and looked at the pair again. It seemed that they ran out of conversations, but then, they looked both comfortable together. Thank goodness Stefan didn’t fidget; it would definitely diminish his score. He didn’t smile either, but Caroline would let that pass. Besotted he might be, but it wasn’t in his nature to be apparent of his feelings.

“I wonder how he’d become like that,” she murmured.

Robert’s brows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lord Stokeford,” she said weakly. “I wonder why he never smiles so often.”

“I believe there’s a reason behind it.”

That definitely got her attention. “What reason?”

He smiled wryly and teased, “A bit nosy, aren’t we?”

“Only when it is convenient, sir!” she replied with a cheeky grin, repeating his words earlier.

Robert let out a sigh and darted his gaze on the back of his friend, though it was clear that his mind seemed distant at the moment. “The truth is that Stefan rather had an unhappy childhood. I’m afraid a greater part of it had made him desolate and detached to most people.”

So he was an unhappy child then. Caroline felt a little squeeze on her heart as she envisioned a small, lonely boy with dark brown hair and startlingly blue eyes. She had been always a happy child, and even when her mother died, she had never found herself wanting love and blissfulness.

“He has you, Robert. And perhaps to have you as his friend is a boon greater than he could possibly have in a lifetime.”

“Why, thank you. I say that’s the best compliment I ever received thus far,” he replied with unconcealed surprise and delight. And then, Caroline thought she saw his eyes turned a bit misty.

Later that night, she had marched on Sophie’s bedroom, intending to hear every bit of details about her afternoon in Stefan’s company.

“Really, Caroline. Must you be so nosy?”

“Well, I am nosy, and please tell me what you and Lord Stokeford talked about! I will not go until I hear the very end of it.”

Sophie sighed and put her silver brush on the vanity table. She suspected as much that her cousin was playing matchmaker; now, she was quite certain of it. “Nothing much, really. He had asked me something about baking and other things I am interested at. We rather had passing conversations,” she waved her hand dismissively.

Caroline pursed her lips and muttered, “Well, that wasn’t very well done of him.”

“Did you say something?”

“Oh, nothing.” She fibbed while making a mental note to have a word with him. Baking? Surely, he could do better than that! It sounded quite silly—who had ever heard of a man asking some snippets about baking, anyway?

“But he is an excellent company, yes?” she prodded, though quite sure of herself that Stefan was anything but an excellent company, but Sophie’s next words stunned her.

“As a matter of fact, he is. Lord Stokeford is quite a different man, and a sensible one, I should say.” Sophie looked at her with an enigmatic smile lingering on her lips. “And I think I will like him.”

That was all Caroline needed to hear.