Eden House, Bond Street.
Morning.
Morning at Eden House was conducted with composure.
Letters arrived.
Decisions followed.
And, on occasion, opportunities presented themselves.
Dowager Countess Augusta Eden sat near the window, the morning light falling cleanly across her writing desk. The letter in her hand had already been read once.
And then again now—a third time.
Her lips curved. "Jeremy."
He did not immediately respond.
Seated across the room, a book open in his hand—Machiavelli, predictably—he turned a page with deliberate calm. "Yes, Mother."
"I have received a letter."
Jeremy did not look up. "I had assumed as much. It is morning."
Augusta ignored that. "From Lady Florence Darlington."
That drew his attention. "…Indeed."
Augusta lowered the letter slightly, regarding it with renewed satisfaction.
"She writes," she said, "with considerable interest."
Jeremy closed the book. Not abruptly.
But with intention. "And?"
Augusta's eyes lifted.
"And," she said, "it would appear that last evening has not gone unnoticed."
Jeremy inclined his head slightly. "That would be consistent with observation."
Augusta's smile deepened. "You danced."
"I did."
"With Miss Adelaide Darlington."
"Yes."
"And you do not consider this relevant."
Jeremy regarded her. "Well," he said, "what does it have to do with me?"
Augusta stared at him. "Everything," she said.
Jeremy's brow lowered slightly. "That is an overstatement."
"No," Augusta replied. "It is an assessment."
Jeremy leaned back slightly, entirely untroubled. "I am aware," he said, "that Miss Darlington is Lady Florence's daughter."
"Yes."
"And that she has been presented."
"Yes."
"And that she is now observed."
Augusta's gaze sharpened. "Yes."
Jeremy inclined his head. "Then I fail to see the complication."
Augusta set the letter aside. "The complication," she said, "is that you have involved yourself in it."
"I have danced."
"You have signaled."
"I have been polite."
"You have been noticed."
Jeremy exhaled softly. "That," he said, "is unavoidable."
Augusta leaned forward slightly. "Jeremy."
"Yes."
"Miss Darlington is not an incidental acquaintance."
"I am aware."
"She is newly arrived."
"Yes."
"She is being considered."
Jeremy's expression did not change.
"Yes."
"And you," Augusta said, with quiet emphasis, "have positioned yourself within that consideration."
Jeremy paused. "No," he said.
Augusta blinked.
"No?"
"No."
He spoke with calm certainty. "I have not positioned myself," he said. "I have been positioned by interpretation."
Augusta stared at him. "That is not a meaningful distinction."
"It is entirely meaningful."
"It is entirely irrelevant."
Jeremy's lips curved faintly. "Then we are at an impasse."
Augusta did not smile.
"You will not dismiss this."
"I am not dismissing it."
"You are."
"I am clarifying it."
"Then clarify."
Jeremy inclined his head. "Miss Adelaide Darlington," he said, "does not intend to marry."
Augusta's brow lifted. "Does she not."
"She has stated as much."
"And you believe her."
"Yes."
"How refreshing."
Jeremy ignored that.
"She intends," he continued, "to become a matchmaker."
Augusta's expression stilled. "…A what."
"A matchmaker." Then, "She intends," Jeremy added, "to arrange a match for me."
Silence.
Complete.
Augusta stared at him. Then slowly, her smile returned.
"Of course she does," she said.
Jeremy frowned slightly. "I do not see why that is—"
"You do not," Augusta said, rising, "and that is precisely the problem."
Jeremy remained seated. "I respect her intention," he said. "She has made her position clear."
Augusta turned to him. "And you intend to honour it."
"Yes."
"You will not pursue her."
"No."
"You will not interfere."
"No."
"You will allow her to arrange you."
Jeremy paused. "…Within reason."
Augusta laughed.
Softly.
"Jeremy," she said, "you have just described the most efficient path to precisely the outcome you believe impossible."
Jeremy's brow lowered. "That is illogical."
"No," Augusta said. "It is inevitable."
Jeremy shook his head. "I respect her wish to remain unmarried."
Augusta regarded him. "And if she does not."
"She will."
"And if she does not."
Jeremy did not hesitate. "That would contradict her stated intention."
Augusta smiled. "My dear," she said gently, "people contradict themselves constantly."
Jeremy leaned back.
"Not without cause."
"Not without proximity."
"You danced with her."
"Yes."
"You spoke with her."
"Yes."
"You are now," Augusta said, with quiet certainty, "thinking about her."
Jeremy did not respond.
Augusta's smile softened.
Just slightly.
"Which," she said, "is how such things begin."
Jeremy exhaled. "That," he said, "is not how this works."
Augusta tilted her head.
"No?"
"No."
He spoke with the same calm conviction as before. "She is a matchmaker," he said.
"And?"
"And therefore," Jeremy concluded, "I will not fall for her."
Augusta smiled. "Yes," she said. "Of course."
"My relationship with her," Jeremy said, with quiet certainty, "is entirely professional."
Augusta's brow lifted. "Professional."
"Yes."
There was a brief silence. "Oh?" she said.
Jeremy nodded once. "Yes."
He spoke with complete composure. "Kurt is my friend."
Augusta watched him.
"I would never," Jeremy continued, "act in a manner that would compromise that."
Augusta set her embroidery down. Carefully.
"You would not."
"No."
"You are certain."
"Yes."
A pause.
Then—
Augusta smiled with the unmistakable warmth of someone who had already reached a conclusion. "My dear Jeremy," she said gently, "I have no doubt of your intentions."
Jeremy inclined his head slightly. "Thank you."
Augusta's gaze lingered.
"It is not your intentions," she added, "that concern me."
Jeremy's brow lowered a fraction. "No?"
"No, it is your assumptions."
Jeremy exhaled softly. "My assumptions are based on stated facts."
Augusta nodded. "Yes."
"And logic."
"Yes."
"And mutual understanding."
"Yes."
A pause.
Augusta took a sip of her wine.
And smiled.
Entirely.
Which, somehow, was worse than disagreement.
Jeremy leaned back slightly. "You find this amusing."
"I find it… familiar."
"In what sense."
"In the sense," she said, setting her tea down, "that you believe yourself to be entirely in control of a situation that has already begun to move."
Jeremy shook his head. "It has not."
Augusta tilted her head. "No?"
"No."
Jeremy's tone remained steady. "She has no intention of marrying."
"Yes."
"She intends to arrange others."
"Yes."
"And I intend," he said, "to cooperate."
Augusta regarded him. "And nothing will alter that."
"No."
Augusta's smile softened. Just slightly. "My dear," she said, "you have always been very consistent."
Jeremy inclined his head. "I consider that a strength."
"It is."
She held his gaze. "Until it is not."