“A proper man.” Margaret set her pen down and eyed Amelia. “You ought to be considering the same.” She smiled and added, “Remember, His Grace is going to give us all a Season, and we’re to be presented at court.”
Personally, Amelia had no desire to curtsy before royalty. She’d likely trip over her train and fall flat on her face. But she did want to marry well, and so she’d suffer through it.
Flopping back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. “I suppose you’re happy the house burned down. Now we have to live in London until it’s rebuilt.”
Margaret set down her pen. “What a horrid thing to say. OfcourseI’m upset that we lost the house. But I’ll confess, I am glad that we’ll be here for the new Season. And I’m grateful to His Grace, the Duke of Worthingstone, for his generosity.”
“You’re jealous of Victoria, too,” Amelia chided. “Because she had a duke dropped on her doorstep.”
“On the contrary, I’m quite pleased for her. I’m not at all jealous of her good fortune.”
That was the answer her sister would continue to give, Amelia knew. “I want a husband who adores me,” she pronounced. “His title doesn’t matter. But if you don’t want the viscount, I shall flirt with him.”
“Amelia,” Margaret warned, “if you’re too impulsive, you could make costly mistakes. If you associate with the wrong man, your reputation will suffer.”
“You’re just afraid I’ll marry before you will. I might,” she said, unable to resist teasing her sister. “Even Juliette could. Dr. Fraser loves her and wants to marry her.”
“But he’s aphysician.” Margaret shuddered. “She can’t marry him.”
“It’s not as if she’s running away with a peddler.” Personally, Amelia thought Dr. Fraser was perfect for her sister.
“I worry about her,” Margaret admitted. “She refuses to dance with any of the men and seems quite content to be a wallflower.”
“Because she wants Dr. Fraser.” Of that, Amelia was certain.
“She’s changed, ever since she went away with Aunt Charlotte.” Margaret stood and went to stand by the window. “But every time I ask her, she refuses to say a word of it.”
“She’s been pining for the doctor, ever since he left for Edinburgh.Andhe asked her to marry him in one of his letters.”
“He did not!” Margaret’s mouth dropped open. “How would you even know such a thing? Did you read Juliette’s letters without her permission?”
“Of course I did.” And she didn’t feel one bit guilty over it. How else was she to know what was going on? Dropping her voice to a hushed whisper, Amelia added, “Juliette might have asked Mother for permission. And of course, she would say no.”
The idea of a forbidden love fascinated her. Although she’d never played the role of matchmaker, she honestly did believe Juliette would be happiest with the doctor. He might be a rough Highlander, but he was terribly handsome.
The only problem was that it would be impossible for her sister to be with Dr. Fraser if they were separated by hundreds of miles. He needed to be here, in London, so that Juliette would see that they were meant to be together.
“Didshe ever ask Mother for permission?” Margaret prompted.
“How should I know? I’m only guessing.”
Margaret rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Because you’re an insufferable busybody who eavesdrops on everyone.”
“Well, not this time.” An idea took root in Amelia’s mind, evolving into a plan. She smiled and added to her sister, “I wonder if Juliette’s been waiting to elope with him, now that he has his physician’s license. Maybethat’swhy she refuses to consider anyone else.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a child, Amelia.”
“Don’t be such a spinster, Margaret.”
The S-word was enough to send her sister into a fury. Margaret ran toward her, but Amelia ducked and went to snatch her sister’s list off the writing desk. “The Earl of Castledon? Honestly, Margaret, he has the personality of a handkerchief.”
“A handkerchief hasn’t got a personality, ninny.”
“Exactly.”
Margaret lunged for the paper, but Amelia dodged her, running away. As she started to read the second name on the list, the door opened and Juliette entered. She was carrying their young cousin Matthew in her arms, gently bouncing him as she walked.
“What are you doing?” Juliette asked, touching the baby’s hair.
