Page 101 of A Mismatch Made in London

I introduced the two of them and we ended up discussing our tutors and governesses and the subjects we studied versus the subjects Jeremy had studied in school.

“And what was it that drew you to Amelia?” Margaret asked, without any preamble.

“I saw what a good friend she was to my sister. I also saw that she was kind and gracious to everyone, without exception. She was wise enough not to fall in love with men who lacked integrity, and she had all the other qualities that I could have wanted in a wife—prudence, steadiness of temper and character, and the ability to enjoy waterfalls and the British Museum.”

I laughed at that. The smile on Margaret’s face was all I needed to know what she thought.

As Margaret was leaving, I offered to walk her to the door. Shewhispered, “You have done very, very well, my friend. He is so in love with you. The way he looks at you...” She looked up at the ceiling. “And so handsome. I wish I had an aunt who would invite me to London.”

“I shall invite you.” I was imagining all the balls I could take her to next Season. After all, Lavinia wouldn’t be ready for her first Season for at least two years.

“I did not say that so you would invite me. However, if you did, I would not say no.”

At midday, the children decided we should have a picnic. So we took our tea in the garden, all of us sitting on blankets. Diana was sitting with me, Lavinia nearby, until she toddled over to Jeremy and plopped down in his lap.

His eyes met mine as she held out a small tea cake.

“Eat,” she commanded.

Jeremy took it from her, ate a bite, and winked at her.

“Eat,” she said again.

He pretended to take another bite, opening his mouth wide and then pretending to chew. It made her laugh.

Well done, Jeremy Beaumont,I thought to myself. Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone but him.

After dinner, Lavinia was playing the pianoforte. When she finished, everyone started talking, half a dozen different conversations happening at once. It was a usual evening in the Moore household.

Soon the maids came and took the children away to bed. Jeremy and I found ourselves alone with my father.

“Well,” Father said, getting to his feet, “I’m sure you two have things to discuss. And I’m too old and tired to stay up any longer.”

We bid my father a good night, and then we were alone,immediately making me think about kissing Jeremy. Oh, how I anticipated him holding me close.

The house was quiet except for some faint crying that sounded like Anne, who hated going to bed, the faint voices of my mother and one or two of the servants, and some footsteps above us.

“Amelia?” He leaned quite close, and I could see the tenderness in his blue eyes. “I know I should be patient, and I can be patient, if I must. But I cannot help asking ... Have you decided if you will marry me?”

“I have. And I will.”

He took my hand in his and kissed it.

“I love you,” I whispered. “You are everything I want.”

His eyes met mine just before he kissed me, pulling me into his arms.

I hoped no one came into the room while we were kissing, but I didn’t care enough to stop him. I’d dreamed so many times of kissing him again, and the reality was even better than the dream, even better than I remembered.

When the kiss ended, we were eye to eye. It was as if I were connected to him, as if we were on an ethereal level, beyond the physical. So much intimacy was a bit overwhelming, but it was also wonderful, the most wonderful thing I’d ever felt.

“I suppose it is a bit disrespectful to kiss you in your father’s house.”

“I don’t think it’s disrespectful,” I whispered back. “He’s given you his permission to marry me. Besides, I like kissing you.”

He made a noise like a groan and kissed me again. When the kiss ended, he held his palm against my cheek.

“The question now is when we should get married. We can go to any bishop and obtain a common license, then we can marry any day we wish.”