Page 82 of A Mismatch Made in London

“And he is very rich?”

“Yes.”

“There must be something wrong with him, since you are not sure.”

What could I say? Truly, I couldn’t think of anything. Even his arrogance and conceit had seemed to vanish. And I had let him kiss me, twice! Perhaps I was in love with him without realizing it. Perhaps he was worthy of my love—if indeed he did love me.

“Well,” Mother went on, “we shall see him tomorrow.”

“Yes.” So it would seem.

23

It was Juliet and Shelley’s wedding day.

Jeremy had written Amelia every day, but he only sent one of the letters, plus one to her father, thinking he would deliver the other letters to her himself. Was this the right course of action?

He usually knew exactly what to do, or at least what he considered to be the right thing to do. But he had never tried to win the heart of a lady with whom he was in love. There was no textbook on the subject. So he asked himself several times,What would win Miss Amelia Moore’s heart?Ultimately, he decided to be considerate and thoughtful, and also to be authentic and honest. She should know him as he was, not as he pretended to be.

He was just finishing writing his letter to Amelia when Juliet came into his room looking agitated and breathing hard.

“I can’t marry Timothy. We cannot marry tomorrow.”

“What are you talking of? Tell me what happened.”

Juliet was slinging her hands up and down and pacing a few steps forward, then the same steps back.

“Miss Snowden was just here. People are saying that Mr. Fairweather and I were in his carriage all night, which is not true, and that I am now with child and that is why I am marrying Timothy,that he’s being cuckolded.” Her eyes were wide with horror, her face pale as a ghost. “If it’s true that people are saying such things, and I can’t imagine she would lie, then I am ruined. How can I marry Timothy and ruin him too? I cannot. I cannot do it.” She was shaking her head.

“You will not give up hope. I will take care of this.”

Jeremy could feel the heat rising into his temples. He would find Fairweather and he would teach him what happens when he maligns the name of Juliet Beaumont. But how?

He’d regretted challenging Fairweather to a duel before, after Fairweather neglected to meet him and he’d had time to cool his temper and think better of it. Duels rarely ended in death, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Not that he thought he might be killed, but that if he killed Fairweather, he’d have to live with that for the rest of his life.

But even if he did fight a duel with Fairweather, that would not stop people from talking, those who had already heard his lies and boasts. Yet, it felt so wrong to let Fairweather get away with what he had done.

Jeremy would go find him and confront him. He couldn’t let him think he could say anything he wanted, do anything he wanted, and think there were no consequences.

Oh no. Amelia.

He was to travel to her home in Buckinghamshire tomorrow. How could he win her over if he couldn’t even keep his word to her?

Juliet was still looking at him, her face as white as snow.

“Go tell a servant to fetch me a courier, a fast one. I have to send a letter to Amelia.”

“Amelia.” A tear leaked from Juliet’s eye. “She is expecting you tomorrow.”

He’d told her about Amelia’s reluctance to believe that he loved her, along with her doubts about marrying him.

“I’ll write her a letter too, explaining.” Juliet turned and hurried from the room.

He made an effort to turn his thoughts from finding Fairweather to explaining to Amelia why he couldn’t visit her when he said he would.

He sat at his desk and quickly started writing.

Dear Amelia,