Page 32 of A Mismatch Made in London

Their names were Mr. Timothy Shelley and “Gilbert Gotthurst, the fourth Baron Gotthurst.”

Lord Gotthurst smiled. “It’s a bit much for one man, is it not?”

“Lord Gotthurst, Mr. Shelley, and I were schoolfellows years ago,” Jeremy said.

They were both young and handsome, and I could see Juliet smiling at Mr. Shelley.

“I believe, Miss Juliet Beaumont, we have met before.” Mr. Shelley made a proper bow.

“Yes, at a ball last Season.” Juliet was still smiling, gazing into Mr. Shelley’s eyes.

“You remember.” He looked so gratified, for a moment I thought he would kiss her hand.

“Mr. Shelley and I sometimes play cards together,” Jeremy said. “He and Lord Gotthurst will be at Lady Snowden’s ball.”

“I hope you both will do me the honor of dancing with me,” Lord Gotthurst said.

“Yes,” Mr. Shelley said. “May I dance the first with you, Miss Juliet, and the second with you, Miss Moore?”

We both smiled, and I think I could safely speak for Juliet that we were enjoying the attention of these handsome gentlemen. I was looking forward to the ball even more than before.

The next day the two gentlemen called on us and brought us some lovely hothouse flowers. My heart fluttered a bit when Lord Gotthurst handed me the pink lilies, while Mr. Shelley gave his bouquet of white roses and forget-me-nots to Juliet.

This attention was quite a turnabout. No one had come to call since Juliet’s ride in Mr. Fairweather’s carriage. We’d been too sick to mind overmuch, but it was a bit discouraging and made us afraid of the reason they had stopped calling.

Mr. Timothy Shelley was slightly below average height, handsome in the classic English way, with light brown hair, a small nose, and broad cheekbones. Lord Gotthurst, on the other hand, had dark, wavy hair and long dark sideburns. His face was rather full, but I liked it. He was both charming and friendly in an easy, informal way.

Leastwise, that was my first impression of him. My first impression of Mr. Fairweather had also been good, so obviously one couldn’t rely on first impressions.

Mr. Shelley began talking to Juliet about dancing, one of her favorite subjects.

“I believe I prefer the country dance to a quadrille,” Mr. Shelley said.

“I enjoy every kind of dance. I should be hard-pressed to decide which I liked best.”

This seemed to delight Mr. Shelley, as his smile widened in a way that indicated particular interest.

“I believe Mr. Beaumont said you were from the country,” Lord Gotthurst said, addressing me.

“Yes, from Buckinghamshire. And you?”

“My family’s estate is in the Peak District, but my mother sends me quite often to London. My father’s health had been failing for some time, and he passed away several months ago. I have been making trips to London to take care of business for some years now.”

“I’m very sorry for the loss of your father.”

“Thank you.”

“And do you enjoy taking care of business?”

“I do not wish to complain or to shirk my duty, but I confess, I’d spend nearly all of my time in the country if I could.”

We smiled at each other, as we were of the same mind.

Meanwhile, Jeremy stood by the fireplace, leaning against the mantelpiece and drinking from his teacup.

We were speaking of how Lord Gotthurst had been friends with Jeremy Beaumont in school. “Sometimes I was shunned because of my dark hair and complexion,” Lord Gotthurst said. “Boys can be cruel, and they called me gypsy and much worse things. But Jeremy was a good friend.”

The two men, with crooked smiles, saluted each other with their teacups.