Chapter Twenty-Eight

Maddy turned towards the window of the carriage, which was bumping along the road, kicking up a line of dust behind them. The day was cold and gray, matching her mood entirely too well.

She flicked her wrist up to brush a tear that was sliding down her cheek, hoping that Fitz and Rose wouldn’t notice it.

Everything had happened so fast, she thought, as the carriage carried them further and further away from Rotherham House.

The house party had drawn to a close the day before, and Fitz had made quick arrangements to have the three of them ferried back to Bath to finish out the Season there. Everyone else had gone hither and yon, back to Town or to their own estates, though at this moment, Jamie was bound for London to attend a meeting in the House of Lords – further away from Maddy than she could currently stand.

He had been preoccupied the day after their lovemaking sessions with a argument between two tenants that had flared up overnight, and though he gave Maddy many apologetic looks and murmured regrets, they were never able to be together privately again, instead having to settle for lingering looks over the luncheon table, and the occasion touch of their hands as they passed in the hallway, Cleary or another man always on Jamie’s heels.

And now, she was going back to Bath and the family home there and he to his home in London for God knew how long.

On top of that, Fitz had taken the opportunity during this seemingly endless carriage ride to extol the virtues of Lord Blakely to Maddy, giving her pointed looks as he spoke, though she paid him little attention, instead remembering the night before…

Maddy sighed as the landscape slid by.

She liked Lord Blakely – of course she did. He was charming, funny, attractive and kind. She hadn’t met anyone who didn’t like Lord Blakely. And to say he was well connected and in possession of a great fortune went without saying.

But he was no Lord Carrington – not to her.

Jamie set her blood boiling with one look.

She had always loved him.

They trusted each other more than she ever thought possible – that having been proven the night before in her bed chamber.

And he loved her, as she him.

As he had tenderly handed her into the carriage, he had pressed his lips to her hand and murmured something in French against her glove, too low for anyone else to hear.

“Je t’aime, ma cherie.”


I love you, my darling.

She ached to shout out her feelings in return, but instead gave him a small, sad smile and nodded once, acknowledging that she had heard and understood him.

He had apologized to all of them again for the abrupt end to their time together at Rotherham Haouse, and explained that he didn’t know when he would next be in Bath. And with that, the carriage had lurched away suddenly, and Maddy had watched him growing smaller and smaller until the carriage rounded the bend and he was out of sight entirely.

It was beyond frustrating, and her heart hurt at the thought of not seeing him for days… even weeks, or God knew how long.

And to have to wait that long to feel his hands on her skin, his lips against hers, his body moving against hers…

It made her want to cry in irritation and anger, stomp her foot like a little girl who wasn’t getting her way.
Now that she’d had his body, she wanted, needed, craved more.

Just… more.

She needed all of him, all the time.

Lord Blakely, on the other hand, had promised to be in Bath within the next two days, and asked if the ladies would be at the Pump Room the evening of his arrival, so that they might catch up, dance and be merry. Rose had readily agreed for both of them, and Lord Blakely had smiled, bowed, and leapt onto his horse and galloped down the lane with a jaunty wave.

A bump in the road nearly lifted Maddy from her seat and out of her reverie, and both she and Rose giggled as they tried to resettle themselves on the seat across from Fitz.

Maddy had made sure that Rose and Fitz sat directly opposite each other, though neither had truly taken the initiative to talk during the journey.

Perhaps a little match making would take her mind off Jamie, she mused, watching the landscape drift by.

###

Maddy was carefully printing a small note in the privacy of her bedroom, a match to the one she had already finished which was laying beside her quill. After their arrival that morning, she had unpacked, eaten lunch, taken a nap, and now found herself at loose ends, needing to find something to distract her from sitting and staring into space, daydreaming of Jamie.

It was time for a little matchmaking, she decided, and everyone liked to receive mail, did they not?

She had scuttled back to her room with parchment and ink, trying to decide what sort of notes to write in her self-declared role as matchmaker.

She planned to slip the notes to Rose and Fitz secretly, in the hopes they would suspect each other, meet up, and tumble into each other’s arms, falling madly in love.

That was her plan, anyway, Maddy thought with a smile.

She finished the last line, and then set down her quill, examining her work.

For the note Fitz was to receive, she had written:

Long have I admired you, and I hope this delicate flower may soon be a part of your garden.

The delicate flower being Rose, of course.

For the note Rose was to receive, she had written:

For nothing this wide universe I call, save thou, my Rose, in it thou are my all.

Truly, one couldn’t go wrong with one of Master Shakespeare’s sonnets, particularly one that mentioned a rose – true, he didn’t capitalize in his great sonnet, but Maddy didn’t think he would mind a few liberties taken on her part for the sake of finding love.

She realized both were a bit heavy handed, but if someone didn’t give these two a push, who would?
She only hoped her match making plan didn’t backfire.

What else would she have to occupy her thoughts until she saw Jamie again?

She carefully crept down the stairs, feeling rather like a spy as she looked for both Rose and Fitz, tiptoeing through the tiled hallway and staying to the shadows, quite enjoying the game. Through an open doorway, she saw Rose reading a novel in the front room, looking quite engrossed, and then saw Fitz in his study, shuffling through paperwork, his brow wrinkled in concentration.

Quietly, she folded then slid the note intended for Fitz into the pocket of his evening coat, then scuttled across the hall and slipped the note intended for Rose into her reticule. She hoped they would both find them soon enough, and the rest would be history.

If not, she would have a lot of explaining to do, but what could be wrong with her wanting two of her favorite people in the world to get together? Rose had already betrayed – non verbally, but still – to Maddy that she was smitten with Fitz, and Fitz… well, Fitz was oblivious, but he wanted to find love as much as the next person, and with a little push, Rose would be his perfect match.

She knew Rose would never make the first move, as she believed herself not to be worthy of Fitz, as a viscount, but Maddy knew Fitz wouldn’t look at it that way.

Or so she thought, considering his push to put Maddy and Lord Blakely on the path to marriage, thinking more of securing her position in society than in her long term happiness, a happiness that only Jamie could provide to her.

Never mind, Maddy thought with a grin. Happiness trumps position in society – she truly believed that.
If this worked out between Fitz and Rose, Maddy would be ever so pleased.

At least then someone would have a happy ending, she thought, climbing the stairs again, the wind out of her sails as she again pictured Jamie fading out of sight around the bend of the lane. Maybe it was time for another nap, she mused as she opened her bedroom door, suddenly exhausted in body and spirit, and knowing she would have to be presentable and sparkling at the Pump Room later that evening.

Perhaps a nap would afford her the opportunity to dream again of Jamie.


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