Chapter 20
As Jeremy Beaumont and I walked out of the woods in sight of the house, he said, “Here we are. Do you think we were missed?” He turned his head and stopped, gazing into my eyes in that way that made me wonder if he was thinking about kissing me.
“They could be watching us right now . . . out of the window.” I sounded as if I were out of breath, although there was no reason for me to be.
“They could.” He still did not look away. But then he seemed to notice something. “I believe you have a twig in your hair.” He lifted his hand to my head, then showed me the little stick before throwing it on the ground.
“I must look a mess.” I patted my hair, then looked down at my dress, which thankfully was not my best one, because the fabric had a few snags and streaks of dirt near the hem.
“You look very pretty,” Jeremy said, gazing at my face, “like a woman who has just enjoyed at nice ramble in the woods in the cool morning air.”
“I do love a good ramble,” I mumbled, staring at his lips. Oh, how I wanted to kiss them. But I shouldn’t, especially since someone might be watching. Still, if he did try to kiss me, I wouldn’t stop him.
He was still holding my hand from when he helped me over the log in the woods. He suddenly squeezed it and turned toward the house. And by the look on his face, I imagined he was wishing he had kissed me when we were still in the woods.
But perhaps that was only me.
We entered through a side door and went up to the breakfast room.
Juliet, Mr. Shelley, and Miss Freeman all looked up at us.
“Look who has been for an early morning walk,” Mr. Shelley said, obviously amused.
“Strictly unplanned,” I said.
Jeremy said at the same time, “We happened to encounter each other at the waterfall. We both had the same idea, apparently.”
“Hmm,” Miss Freeman said, her brows raised. Her lips were pressed together in a bit of a smirk, which she hid by taking a sip of her tea.
Even Juliet’s eyes were wide as she looked from me to Jeremy and back to me. But everyone was too proper and polite, apparently, to say anything else on the subject as we chatted and ate our breakfast together.
I asked about Juliet’s sore throat. When I did, Jeremy looked concerned, staring at his sister.
“It is better. I think I just needed a bit more sleep.” Then she whispered in my ear, “And apparently to give you some time alone with my brother.”
I whispered back, “Stop. You know nothing happened. Nothing at all.” Well, holding hands wasn’t nothing.
Half an hour later, as we spoke of what we might do to entertain ourselves for the day, Mr. Shelley said, “I had planned to ask if you’d like to walk to the waterfall, but some of our party have already done so.”
Jeremy said, “I would like to go. I could finish the sketch I started if we go back again.”
“I would like to walk there again as well,” I said. “It isn’t far, and it’s so lovely.”
Soon we had all readied ourselves and were walking on the trail through the woods. Jeremy walked with Mr. Shelley, while Juliet and Miss Freeman were with me.
“Do you still assert that there is no close attachment between you and Juliet’s brother?” Miss Freeman said in a low voice meant for only Juliet and me to hear.
“I do not know,” I said. “Perhaps not.”
“When no one was looking,” Miss Freeman whispered, “I took a peek at his sketchbook.”
Juliet said, “He won’t even let me—”
“Sh!” Miss Freeman and I both said.
Lowering her voice, Juliet said, “What did you see?”
“He has been sketching Miss Moore. I only had time to look at one of them, but it was Miss Moore’s profile, there was no mistaking it.”
My stomach flipped. “He likes to sketch, that is all. He probably sketches Juliet, everyone, when he has the time.”
“He never sketches me,” Juliet said. “He used to tell me that he wasn’t any good at drawing people.”
“Interesting.” Miss Freeman pushed up her spectacles, which had a habit of falling down the bridge of her nose.
Both ladies were staring, as if waiting for me to say something.
“I know nothing about that. I can’t even imagine when he might have tried to sketch my likeness. I didn’t even know he had a sketchbook or liked to draw until this morning. And we only stared at the waterfall for a few minutes and then returned to the house.”
It probably meant nothing that he had sketched me. But it gave me a warm feeling in my stomach, thinking about it.
Jeremy had risen early and taken his sketchbook to the waterfall, but he was thinking of Miss Moore, of things she had said, times that they had danced together, her smiles.
So when she suddenly emerged from the trees, alone, the thought inexplicably went through his head, I am in love with Miss Amelia Moore.
He hadn’t been sure he loved her until he kissed her at the ball.
He’d asked her to marry him mostly because it was the only honorable thing he could do in the situation, and he never should have kissed her.
It was something an irresponsible cad would do.
But he’d immediately realized he didn’t regret asking her to marry him, that he wanted to marry her.
And now, admitting that he was in love with her felt as natural and inevitable as the water falling over the precipice.
He must have been in love with her for some little time.
He’d told himself he couldn’t fall in love with anyone while his sister was as yet unmarried. His time was not his own. His sense of duty demanded that he could not selfishly dedicate his time to a lady he wished to marry. His happiness would need to wait until Juliet’s happiness was secure.
And after what he’d said to Miss Moore about her using his sister to try to make a match with him, how could he ever expect her to return his feelings?
Yet, he was in love with her. She was the loveliest, the sweetest, the best person he’d ever been acquainted with.
She was artless and innocent, but she was also brave and held strong convictions.
She would not put her own interests ahead of her friend’s when her aunt had insisted she distance herself from Juliet, when Juliet’s reputation was in doubt.
Amelia was also much calmer and gentler than he was.
He could well imagine that she would be good for him.
And he would give her anything, everything she wanted.
But first, he had to win her heart. Would it even be possible?
All of these things went through his mind as she walked out of the woods, as they stood together, looking at the waterfall—as he looked at her instead of the waterfall.
He wanted to kiss her, but he told himself that that would not win her heart. In fact, he rather thought that his kisses had made her suspicious of him and his motives. So he vowed not to kiss her while she was still deciding whether or not to marry him.
Would Shelley propose marriage to Juliet?
He suspected that was the reason he’d asked them to his home for a fortnight.
Shelley wanted his mother to be acquainted with Juliet, and perhaps he wanted to be certain in his own mind.
And if he did marry Juliet, Jeremy would be able to marry, to focus on securing his own happiness.
And he couldn’t imagine he would be happy unless he could persuade Miss Amelia Moore to love him.
As Juliet and I were especially eager to see as many sites as possible while we were visiting Mr. Shelley in the Lake District, we set out the next day to visit Castlerigg Stone Circle.
Miss Freeman sat beside Juliet and me on one side of the carriage, with Mr. Shelley and Jeremy on the other side. Juliet talked for a full ten minutes about many subjects, and when she stopped, Jeremy asked me a question about outings I’d taken.
“There isn’t much to tell, I’m afraid. I’ve not been a lot of places, but I have seen the best of Buckinghamshire’s architecture—Hughenden Manor, Boarstall Tower, Stowe House—and I’ve been to Ivinghoe Beacon. It was a beautiful view.”
“I didn’t realize there were so many places to see in Buckinghamshire,” Juliet said.
“And what was your favorite?” Jeremy asked. His eyes showed interest, as they were fastened on me in a way that made my heart beat a little faster.
“The view of hills and trees and green pastures from Ivinghoe Beacon was lovely, but my favorite place was Boarstall Tower. It has such an ancient appearance and puts one in mind of knights and fair ladies in medieval dresses.”
“I should very much like to see it,” Jeremy said.
I almost said, “If we marry, you shall.”
We soon came upon Castlerigg Stone Circle, and I gasped.
The strange circle of large rocks on a prominent hill had the appearance of boulders that had been rolled there by giants to use as seats, where they might sit and stare at the lovely view and reflect on life and its meaning.
Sheep grazed around the tall, upright stones, oblivious to how strange it was that these stones were here.
Nor did they care for the inspiring view surrounding them, but I did my best to take it all in.
I turned in a circle, slowly moving so that I could see all of it. I wasn’t sure I could ever tire of it.
“How does it compare to Ivinghoe Beacon?”
Jeremy was beside me. I hadn’t noticed him approach me. Juliet and Mr. Shelley were walking around the stones and talking, and Miss Freeman was examining one of the stones.
“This is much more magnificent than Ivinghoe Beacon, though I feel disloyal to my county for saying so.”
He smiled. “It doesn’t take anything away from Ivinghoe Beacon, I daresay. I should still like to see it, and I hope, someday, to show you the various sights around Bedfordshire.”
“I would like that.” I thought about what I’d just said. Was it true? I believed it was.
We had brought a picnic, and we sat on the grass in the middle of the circle of stones and ate and talked.
The company was so pleasant, though I did think of my brothers and sisters, imagining them running around the stones, playing games on the broad green expanse, shouting and laughing.
Still, I gazed up at the sky, which thankfully was neither rainy nor too hot, and took in a deep breath.
I would not soon forget how content I felt at this moment, with like-minded, pleasant companions, though they were not related to me by blood.
Strange that I should think such a thought with Jeremy Beaumont sitting beside me.
Our stay in the Lake District was full of adventurous outings, carriage rides, and walks over green hills, impressive rocks, and along lake shores, including the magnificent Lake Windermere, the largest lake in England.
I could not have imagined so much water existing away from the ocean, and we did not have time to drive all the way around it, it was so vast.
The night before we were supposed to return to London, I was a bit low in spirits.
I would miss this idyllic place and the wonderful conversations we’d had.
With all of our outings, with us occasionally finding ourselves alone together, but with our companions very near and likely to see us, Jeremy and I never kissed or even came close to kissing.
Directly after dinner, Mr. Shelley said, “Let us have a dance to cheer us all.”
“Is that quite proper?” asked Mrs. Wilson, whose cold was finally healed enough that she had joined us downstairs.
“It shall be all right,” Mrs. Shelley declared, who seemed as eager for the dance as anyone, then gleefully added, “We have chaperones enough, I think.”
Mrs. Wilson nodded her consent.
Miss Freeman offered to play for us, and Mr. Shelley wasted no time asking Juliet to dance.
Jeremy Beaumont asked me, holding out his hand.
It was much different to touch his hand when we were both wearing gloves, but I couldn’t help remembering how it had felt when we weren’t.
Since there were only four of us, we were able to dance the scotch reel and skip and twirl until I was nearly as dizzy as when I’d been staring over the side of the cliff at the waterfall. But it was good to feel the rush of such lively exercise while Jeremy Beaumont was smiling at me.
We switched partners for the next dance, which was another fast-paced frolic.
But when I was back with Jeremy, Miss Freeman began to play a slower song, with more hand touches and close-up movements, where our faces were so close I could see the green flecks in his blue eyes and the subtle contours of his lips.
I was sorry when the dance ended. It was a heady feeling to have Jeremy Beaumont stare at me with his serious, intense gaze.
Dancing the next dance with Mr. Shelley was enjoyable, but he had a distracted air about him. And when it was over, I noticed Mr. Shelley whispering something to Juliet, very close to her ear. She looked up at him and nodded, then they came and sat down.
After we all retired to bed, I was about to ask Juliet what he’d said, when she grabbed my shoulders and, looking me in the eye, said, “Mr. Shelley asked me to meet him early tomorrow morning in the garden by the fountain. He said he had something to ask me.”
“Oh, Juliet!”
“I know! He’s going to ask me to marry him. How will I bear to wait until morning?”
She let go of me and spun around in a circle, clasping her arms.
“I am so happy for you. And you do love him?”
“I do, I am sure I do. He is so clever, and he is truly good and kind. We have so much to talk about whenever we are together. He enjoys so many of the same things that I enjoy, and when he looks at me a certain way, I can hardly breathe.”
She clutched her chest and gazed at the ceiling.
“But then,” she said, plopping down on a chair, “it is a bit frightening to think of getting married.”
“Frightening? Why?” Truthfully, I could think of a few reasons.
“What if I want to do something and he doesn’t want me to? We will quarrel, and I might be angry with him, and I dislike being angry. What if he’s unyielding, once we are married? I couldn’t bear it if I felt like a prisoner.”
“Do you think he will be?”
“No. I suppose I am being silly, but once we are married, we can never change our minds.”
“I will tell you, I think Mr. Shelley seems like the least likely person to disappoint you.”
I personally preferred Jeremy Beaumont, though I wasn’t exactly sure why.