rocking sensation in the pit of his stomach as his gaze shifted between Kate and Digby searching for signs of attraction. Bloody hell! Matchmaking was proving to be more delicate than a chess game played with a master.
"Following our meal, mayhap Kate will entertain us," he suggested, ignoring Kate's start. Her eyes widened as he directed his comments to Digby. "She plays the lute so fine you would believe the angels were singing."
"Another artith!" Digby declared with an unmistakable lisp.
"Pray, sir, not quite," Kate demurred.
Kate would never find a husband displaying such modesty. Edmund felt quite right in coming to her aid. "By your leave, you are too modest, Kate, you have much in common with Digby here, who is an accomplished limner. He has painted our portraits of late, Jane and mine and Viscount Chumley's. Digby's artistry is oft likened to that of Sir William Segar and Isaac Oliver."
"I will look forward to viewing your paintings," Kate said, casting a hesitant smile at the artist.
Ah, such a sweet smile. Edmund felt certain the limner's heart had already been lost. What man could resist Kate's smile?
Flashing an impish grin, Digby flicked a wrist. "Fair maiden, pray allow me to capture your thmile upon my canvas."
The poor artist had a speech impediment. Edmund had forgotten. He wondered if Kate noticed.
A matchmaker's road was strewn with obstacles.
"I doubt Kate will be staying in London long enough to sit for a portrait," Jane remarked offhandedly. "How long do you intend to stay in London, Aunt Cordelia? You understand the city air cannot be advantageous for your... conditions."
"I shall consult several physicians and seek out a fortune teller, eh? As well, I should like to shop at the Royal Exchange and visit with my friend, Lady Mason."
"Ten days should be quite long enough," Edmund's sister declared.
But Aunt Cordelia paid no mind. "Did I mention court? I must be presented at court. You will make arrangements, will you not, Edmund?"
"Certainly, Aunt," Edmund said, uncertain what he'd agreed to. His attention had been on Kate and Digby, who were engaged in whispered conversation.
Once again Jane cut Kate and gave Edmund a set down. "You understand Kate will not be allowed at court?"
"She has expressed no desire to attend court."
"Brother, do not be taken in by a comely face." Jane lowered her voice to warn him in a whisper, "There is no doubt Kate is a beauty, but meant only for meaningless dalliance."
"I do not dally," Edmund bit back between his teeth, understanding her insinuation full well.
"Why did you not invite Alicia Witherspoon this evening?"
"I thought to enjoy family on this night,"
"Yet you invited Digby?"
"Do you not consider the limner family? He has been in our homes for months, painting our portraits."
Jane's lips withered to two narrowed, murrey lines. "No, Digby is not family."
"Ah, but Frances is family," Edmund said in a smooth change of subject, one he knew his sister could not resist. "If you please, tell me how your daughter fares."
Jane told him in minute detail for the remainder of the meal.
After dinner, the gentleman usher provided basins, ewers, and a towel for the lords' and ladies' ablutions. Edmund then led the way to the music room.
Jane, Aunt Cordelia, and the viscount drifted to the far corner where a harp, yet to be played, stood in waiting. The small group discussed plans for how best to spend time between Cordelia's visits to city physicians. Instead of listening to their ruminations, Edmund strained to hear what passed between Digby and Kate, who sat on stools in the opposite corner.
Unable to hear a word of their conversation, he chafed with frustration. He detected an intimacy had sprung up between them. A favorable sign for a matchmaker. But he felt no elation. Unwilling to interrupt only to ask Kate to play the lute, Edmund nonetheless felt out of sorts. Disgruntled. 'Twas disconcerting how quickly and easily Kate and Digby got on