Page 48 of A Mismatch Made in London

“Thank you.” I felt a bit of anger rise up, which was keeping my spine straight and my head high.

“I wish to ask your forgiveness. Mr. Shelley told me that he informed you of—” He paused to swallow. “—my predicament. Please tell me you forgive me for my mother’s ... implacableness.”

“I forgive you and your mother, I am only disappointed that my faith in you was unmerited.” I trembled at my own words, my hands shaking and my knees weak. Was it too harsh? It felt harsh, and yet it was absolutely true. Tears stung my eyes.

Mr. Shelley and Juliet were talking and flirting, oblivious to the distress I was feeling and the way Lord Gotthurst’s expression—like a wounded deer—was pinned on me.

If he said another word, I would not be able to hold back the tears that were so close to the surface. If he did not look away, or if I did not excuse myself, I would start crying. The tears were right there, about to fall. What could I do? I was afraid to move or say a word.

Jeremy Beaumont was striding toward me, no doubt to claimhis dance with me. But when he reached us, he placed himself between us, facing Lord Gotthurst and speaking in a voice so quiet I couldn’t hear. But it gave me a chance to turn aside and take deep breaths, dispelling my tears.

They only spoke for a moment, and then Lord Gotthurst went back to his mother and sister.

Jeremy turned to me, as the dancers were beginning to take their places, and escorted me to the floor, with Juliet and Mr. Shelley lining up beside us.

“Your aunt, Mrs. Kendall, has been helping me find a companion for Juliet,” Jeremy said as we waited for the music to signal us to move.

“That is good.”Thank You, dear Jesus, that I didn’t cry. And thank You that Jeremy is talking of other things.

“We can speak tomorrow with the lady she has suggested.”

“Is my aunt here, then?”

“Yes, I spoke with her a few moments ago.”

I glanced around until I saw Mrs. Kendall sitting nearby. She smiled and waggled her eyebrows at me.

How strange that Jeremy would consult my aunt in this matter, for he knew how mercenary Mrs. Kendall was about securing me a husband—how she wantedhimto be my husband.

“She knows a widow who she says is very trustworthy, but I wanted you and Juliet to be introduced to the woman first, to make sure you are agreeable. You will be spending a lot of time with her, after all.”

The music started, and we began to move about the crowded ballroom, somehow avoiding any collisions with the many dancers around us.

Part of me wanted to ask Jeremy what he and Lord Gotthurst said to one another, but part of me wanted to avoid the subject entirely. For now it was enough that Jeremy had helped me by sending him away. And dancing the first dance with me.

“We look like a large flock of sheep in a small pen,” I said.

Jeremy actually smiled. Whether from amusement at my feeble joke or from derision at my country humor, I neither knew nor cared. I was just relieved that my first meeting with Lord Gotthurst was over, I had avoided crying, and now I could enjoy the rest of the ball.

Jeremy Beaumont was an agreeable dance partner, holding eye contact with me and dancing with grace and precision. He might speak a few words if there was a lull in the dance, which was inevitable with certain dances, while we waited for the other couples to promenade down the middle, between the rows of dancers. He never tried to get too close, as was the case with some gentlemen, and was never timid about taking my hand if the dance required it. Yes, I would say he was one of the better dancers I’d danced with since arriving in London.

I caught sight of Miss Snowden, who it appeared had arrived late and was standing with her mother, Lady Snowden, both of whom were watching Jeremy. Was Jeremy sorry he couldn’t have danced with Miss Snowden instead of me?

I turned my full attention back to my dance partner.

My confidence had taken a blow, but I reminded myself that I was rarely in want of a partner at all the balls I’d attended, and several gentlemen had called on me afterward. I had no reason to think I was at all repulsive—at least, not to most young gentlemen, only to their mamas.

When the dance was over, Jeremy escorted me to Mrs. Kendall and excused himself.

“My dear, you and Jeremy Beaumont looked so lovely dancing together.” She began to tell me about her conversation and exchange of letters with Jeremy the last few days in regard to finding Juliet a companion who could serve as our chaperone. I was barely listening, as I noticed a young gentleman staring at me from across the room. I tried not to stare back, so a few moments later, I was surprised to find him coming toward me with one of Mrs. Kendall’s friends, Mrs. March.

“This gentleman wishes to be introduced to Miss Moore,” she said, “and I was very happy to do the honors. Miss Moore, this is Mr. Colin Harper. Mr. Harper, this is Miss Amelia Moore.”

We greeted one another politely and Mrs. March went on. “His family’s estate borders mine in Lincolnshire, and his mother is one of my oldest friends. Mrs. Kendall is also a great friend, and Miss Moore is her niece, visiting from Buckinghamshire.”

Another dance started, but Mr. Harper stood talking with me and Mrs. Kendall.

“It must be very interesting to be a member of Parliament,” Mr. Harper was saying. “I should think you would have very lively discussions about the goings-on in government.”