Chapter 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,
Please forgive me, but I must postpone my visit to you and your family.
I am very sorry to say that Juliet is planning to delay the wedding while I put a stop to the rumors that Fairweather is spreading about her.
In truth, I would much rather see you and make the acquaintance of your parents and siblings, but I will come just as soon as I am able.
Yours devotedly,
Jeremy Beaumont
He put his letter and Juliet’s into the hands of the courier himself, then he took the bag his manservant had packed and departed for London.
The younger children were already asleep when a knock came at the door.
I hurried downstairs, as I was still dressed, but Father reached the bottom of the stairs before me. He was taking something from the servant, and I could see a courier and his horse framed in the doorway.
“Two letters for you, my dear,” Father said, handing them to me. “He will stay and take your reply if you have one.”
I opened Jeremy’s letter first. My heart sank as I read the words.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to his visit until the moment I read, Please forgive me, but I must postpone my visit.
Then I felt even worse when I read that Juliet might have to delay their wedding.
By the end of the letter, I wondered what kind of violence Jeremy might end up wreaking on Fairweather, that despicable lout.
I said a silent, incoherent prayer before opening Juliet’s letter.
My dear friend Amelia,
I am so sorry for being the cause of Jeremy not visiting you tomorrow as he planned.
Please forgive me. F is continuing to cause problems. I hope all will turn out well, but I am struggling to believe.
I wish you were here with me. Will you please consider returning to London?
I will reimburse your expenses and can send a servant to accompany you.
But I understand if you need to stay with your family. I know how much you have missed them.
Your most devoted friend,
Juliet Beaumont
Many thoughts and feelings went through me as I read her letter. But by the end of it, my prevailing thought was that Juliet needed me. And I was glad.
Mother didn’t need me, not as I had imagined she would. My baby sister Diana wanted Lavinia more often than she wanted me. Everyone else hardly seemed to notice I’d returned. And I found myself crying into my pillow at night just as I had done when I was in London and was missing home.
“I will send a reply,” I said.
I hurried to the writing desk in the sitting room and quickly wrote:
My dear Juliet, please tell your brother not to get himself killed, and yes, I will return to London very soon, in a day or two, if my parents allow it. All my love and affection,
Amelia Moore
I folded the paper and gave it to my father, who paid the courier and sent him on his way.
“What kind of to-do is this?” Father asked, a crooked smile on his lips.
How could I explain? “My friend, Juliet Beaumont, is thinking of delaying her wedding. She was supposed to be married tomorrow.”
“Changing her mind, is she?”
“No, not exactly, but she is upset and wants me to return to London to be with her.”
“And what of your fiancée, Mr. Beaumont?”
“He has written to say he needs to postpone his visit to us. It has to do with his sister and delaying her wedding.” The less I told my father about the brewing scandal, the better.
Father pursed his lips together and was silent.
“He asked forgiveness. It couldn’t be avoided.” If I knew my father, he was probably thinking that since Jeremy had written to him to ask if he could visit, he should have written to him to tell him he would no longer be able to.
Truly, I could imagine the urgency Jeremy must have felt, the urgent need to take action to save Juliet’s reputation. It was probably remarkable that he wrote to me at all. But another part of me felt hurt. If I married him, would I always be second to Juliet, in his heart and in his priorities?
I thrust that thought away. It seemed selfish, even childish, especially since this was my loyal and affectionate friend Juliet. She needed her brother’s help. But I couldn’t force away the pain in my heart.
“Will you be wanting to return to London?” Father asked.
“Yes, Father, if that is all right with you.” I almost said, “And since no one here needs me.”
It was embarrassing how much I needed to be needed. I felt almost as if I didn’t exist except to help other people. But that did not seem a very healthy way of thinking.
“I suppose if your mother says it’s all right, you can go back to London. And your aunt? Will Mrs. Kendall welcome you back?”
“I believe so.”
“You must write to her first,” Father said.
“Yes, Father.”
“If she is willing to welcome you back, then you may go.”
That would mean I would have to wait a few more days, for it would take some time to send a letter to London and for my aunt to write me back. At best, it would take three days to hear back.
I returned to the writing desk and wrote a letter to Mrs. Kendall. I would walk to the village in the morning and post it.
I went to bed late but had trouble falling asleep.
After tossing and turning for a long time, I forced myself to pray prayers such as, “Lord God, I know You are able to keep Jeremy safe and to save Juliet from this trouble, so I cast my cares on You and trust You to be faithful to us.” I remembered Scriptures verses about trusting in the Lord with all our hearts, the faithfulness and love of God, the fact that I could walk through fire and not be consumed.
I also recalled how Daniel’s friends said that they would only believe in the one true God and never bow to an idol, even if they were killed.
They were thrown into the fiery furnace, only to be rescued, unharmed. And I fell asleep.
Jeremy searched London for two days, finally tracking down Wallcroft as he exited the front door of his rented townhouse.
His eyes widened when he saw Jeremy. He held up his hands and said, “I haven’t done anything.”
“Walk with me,” Jeremy said, taking the man’s arm and steering him down the sidewalk. “I believe I informed you of the consequences of continuing to malign my sister’s good name.”
“I have said nothing, nothing.” He looked and sounded desperate.
“Then you will be very sorry to hear that someone has been spreading lies about my sister. Do you know who that might be?”
Wallcroft shook his head.
“I will be looking for anyone who might be repeating the lies and the injustices done to my sister. I can count on you to spread the word, can I not?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And where is Fairweather now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.” Jeremy stepped in front of Wallcroft and blocked his way.
“I don’t know anything, but I know he has a house in Shropshire.”
“Where does he stay when he’s in London?” Jeremy already knew the answer to that but wanted to see if Wallcroft would be honest.
“152 Sullivan Street.”
He was telling the truth.
“But I haven’t seen him in a few days. I don’t want any trouble, so I keep away from him.”
“That is the first wise thing you’ve done.” Jeremy let go of his arm, and Wallcroft flinched.
“Do I need to take care of this one for you?” A large hulking man was standing just behind them.
Wallcroft spun around, holding up his hands.
“No, Dawson,” Jeremy said to the Bow Street Runner he’d hired to help him find Fairweather. “I think Wallcroft is trying to do better. Are you not, Wallcroft?”
Dawson cracked his knuckles, first one large hand, then the other, while staring down at Wallcroft.
Jeremy almost felt sorry for him. Except that if he were a decent fellow, he wouldn’t have befriended a snake like Fairweather. And he’d helped Fairweather by not notifying Juliet’s cousins and Amelia that she had left with him.
What would Juliet do if this whole affair caused her to lose Shelley, cost her her chance at marriage with a good man, love, and happiness?
Only slightly less on Jeremy’s mind was how this was costing him time with Amelia, when he still hadn’t convinced her to marry him yet.
No, he wouldn’t pity Wallcroft.
The man swallowed, his throat bobbing. “I will tell anyone who mentions Miss Beaumont in an unfavorable way that they are speaking lies and that if her brother, Mr. Beaumont—”
“Mr. Jeremy Beaumont,” Dawson said.
“Mr. Jeremy Beaumont—if he hears of it, he will make them sorry. He will make them rue the day they spoke such lies about his admirable sister, Miss Juliet Beaumont.”
“Very good.”
“And they must answer to me as well,” Dawson said. “I am not a gentleman, and I do not fight duels, but I do make good on my threats.” He smacked his fist into his palm.
They watched Wallcroft hurry away down the street.
“Shall I follow him?” Dawson asked.
“Surely he wouldn’t be foolish enough to go straight to Fairweather. Let’s try Fairweather’s place again.”
It would take a bit of luck to find the weasel, but they had to keep looking.