Page 42 of A Mismatch Made in London

That night when we retired to bed, I mentioned my theory to Juliet.

“That would make sense, I suppose,” Juliet said. “But Jeremy is so ornery, he was probably just irritable because he didn’t like all the noise I was making. Jeremy is a good brother, but I think he’s still angry with me for the little mishap, going riding with Mr. Fairweather.”

Juliet pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “Honestly, I think he’d be happy if I married. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

But she couldn’t hold the frown for very long.

“We should plan your outfits for meeting Lord Gotthurst’s mother. I remember he complimented your yellow frock and the way you did your hair that day. You should wear that one for the introductions.”

Juliet went on about ribbons and jewelry until we both became too sleepy to talk anymore. I fell asleep dreaming about judgmental old ladies.

The next day, all I could think about was Lord Gotthurst and the prospect of meeting his mother. I was finally convinced that yes, I was indeed in love with him, and yes, I did want to marryhim. I was certainly old enough, and my mother would be so pleased. Lord Gotthurst was amiable and had good connections, and if he was my husband, he would be pleased to help me find husbands for all my younger sisters. That should be enough reason for me to marry him, added to the fact that he was handsome and appeared to be the kind of man who would show an abundance of affection to his wife.

Mr. Shelley came to call, saying that Lord Gotthurst had welcomed his mother and sister to London an hour before.

“Did they have a good trip, and were they in good health?” I asked.

“I saw them only briefly,” Mr. Shelley said, “but they had a safe journey and appeared to be well.”

It was all I was likely to learn, so I was quiet and let Mr. Shelley and Juliet talk of theatricals and concerts and art exhibitions while I daydreamed about being married to Lord Gotthurst.

Juliet and I spent the weekend going to a ball, a dinner party, and to Vauxhall Gardens with Mr. Shelley and, of course, Jeremy Beaumont. The latter was forced to walk with me, since Juliet was escorted by Mr. Shelley. It was a surprisingly enjoyable outing, as Jeremy spoke to me more than usual and did not argue with me, even though the conversation included many topics.

By Monday, I was nervous and reliant on Juliet to keep me busy. We went shopping.

On Tuesday, we went for a walk in the park, and we received a few callers, then played cards.

On Wednesday, we went to a dinner party, which turned out to be quite tedious. The younger brother and sister who were our conversation companions could not attend, and we were stuck trying to make conversation with a married couple who, frankly, had very little to say. The wife talked about how quarrelsome her servants were, always fighting among themselves, and then she said much the same about her children. “They give me a headache almost every day.”

The husband talked mostly of going to the country and shooting pheasants, how many birds he’d shot the year before, and about his hunting dogs and their heroic efforts to recover the ducks and pheasants. Even Mr. Shelley looked bored, and I saw Jeremy press his hand against his mouth, his eyes watering, as he suppressed a yawn.

That evening when we were in the carriage on the way home, Jeremy said, “Thank goodness your suitors are more interesting conversationalists.”

“You are referring to Mr. Shelley and Lord Gotthurst?” Juliet asked with a smirk.

“You know that I am. Although I’ve noticed a few other gentlemen callers as well.”

“Well, Miss Moore’s gentlemen callers will have to say farewell to her very soon.”

“Juliet,” I said in a mildly scolding tone.

“And Mr. Shelley is quite persistent as well.”

“Don’t get too set on Shelley and Gotthurst,” Jeremy said, then looked out the window.

“Why do you say that?” Juliet asked. “Jeremy?”

Jeremy let out an audible breath. “No man wishes for a lady to assume he will ask her to marry him, even if he plans to do just that.”

“Why would you ever say that?” Juliet looked horrified. And angry. “Jeremy Beaumont, how can you be so cruel? Well, I’ll remind you that Lord Gotthurst asked Amelia if she would allow him to introduce his mother and sister to her. He asked her expressly. What do you say to that?”

“Then where is he? Forgive me. Perhaps he has every intention...” His voice trailed off.

“How can you put doubt in Amelia’s mind? I’ve never known you to be so cruel.”

“I’m not being cruel. Did he not say he would bring his mother to meet her this week? And we have not seen him. And you woulddo well to enjoy Mr. Shelley’s attentions without thinking he is mad with love for you, even if he is.”

Juliet gasped. “Jeremy!” She stared at her brother, wide-eyed. Just as quickly, her features turned fiery, and she glared at him. “What is the matter with you? You are being spiteful.”