Chapter 27 #3
“What do you think the two of us will quarrel about?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps we will quarrel about where to go on our honeymoon.”
“I wish to go to Scotland. I have never seen its peaks and lakes and castles.”
“I have also never been to Scotland, and I also would like to see its castles. So that is settled. No quarreling there.”
“I like to rise early and go for a walk in the mornings. Would that annoy you?”
“Only if you will not permit me to go with you.”
“You may walk with me. In fact, I would prefer it if you did.”
“No quarreling there.”
“You may wish to go to your club every evening instead of staying home with me. We could quarrel about that.”
“I have never liked going to the club as a habit. I only go when I am meeting someone. Would we quarrel if I only went to the club once a month?”
“No, I suppose not.” I tried to think of other things we might quarrel about.
I didn’t think I would be angry with him when one of our babies kept me awake at night, as I would have a servant to help me so that I could get more sleep.
Mother was very stubborn about letting the servants take care of the babies at night, probably due to an incident when the nursery maid had not realized my oldest brother had a fever one night while my mother was sleeping.
He’d been crying, but my mother hadn’t realized he was sick and had left him in the maid’s care.
She was upset the next morning when she realized he had cried all night and grown quite ill, and yet the nurse had not awakened her.
I tried to think of other things we might quarrel about—whether to send our children away to school or to hire a governess and tutors and educate them at home. But perhaps we wouldn’t quarrel about that. Perhaps we would decide together, amicably.
I thought back on my time with Jeremy and Juliet.
They were brother and sister, and Juliet could be quite difficult.
I even remembered feeling a bit sorry for Jeremy because of how Juliet could be deliberately contentious, but he never yelled at her, never was cruel or unfair to her.
I mostly recalled him being patient and kind.
We talked about a lot of things on that journey, about our childhoods and about the balls we’d attended together, about our friends.
I told him about my closest friend, Margaret, who lived a mile from me.
We used to walk to see each other nearly every day when we had finished our studies.
There were a few years that we studied together, as our parents shared the expense of a governess, who stayed at Margaret’s house but also taught my sister Lavinia and me.
And Jeremy told me some stories of his school days that I hadn’t heard before.
The time passed quite pleasantly, and before I would have thought so, we were turning down the lane to my home. We’d made it the entire journey without kissing, and now there might be no opportunity for such a thing until we returned to London.
I felt a pang of disappointment.
“Do not let my brothers bully you into doing everything they want you to do,” I said. “And don’t let my father intimidate you. He is softhearted and easily swayed, he just doesn’t want anyone to know that.”
“Do not worry. It will all be well.”
We drove up to the door, and my father and mother met us on the front step.
My breath was coming in shallow waves. Why was I so nervous?
Jeremy looked just as handsome, his hair and cravat just as tidy, as when we left London. His eyes were alert, but otherwise he did not look nervous.
Mother was smiling broadly, while Father had pasted on a stern frown.
I made the introductions. Jeremy’s manners were very genial and friendly.
Father must have threatened my brothers, for they were all lined up and on their best behavior as they were introduced to Mr. Beaumont. Mother had let the servants hold baby Philip and little Diana. It was strange to see her without a baby in her arms.
Father grew a bit friendlier as he offered to show Jeremy around the place.
“Father, we are very tired,” I protested gently.
“Only around the back of the house. We will only be a minute. You and your mother can go inside.”
But they were longer than a minute. I watched out the window as they were talking and Father was pointing, no doubt telling him how much land he had and how many tenant farmers and the yield of the crops from the year before, things I couldn’t imagine being of any interest to anyone.
A bit later they were facing each other and Jeremy was speaking with a serious, very earnest look on his face.
Was he asking Father for my hand? My stomach fluttered.
“Come away from the window and stop fretting,” Mother said, the baby back in her arms. “He seems like a very good young man, and your father will not tell him no.”
I felt tears sting my eyes; I wasn’t sure why. I quickly drove them away.
“And you believe he will treat you well?” Mother said.
“I do.” I took a deep breath. He certainly had said and done all the right things so far.