“I am so sorry, Miss Crawford.” As she uttered her apology, Molly's gaze drooped to the floor. “I suppose... I had not taken the time to consider your feelings.”
“I am sure you did not!”
“I was thoughtless.” If Lord Rocksavage was present, Molly wondered if the girl would share her enmity with him.
“You were,” Iris agreed. “And what about my poor uncle? You broke his heart and mine. I hope you can live with yourself, Miss Moseley!”
“As a matter of fact, I came because I wanted to see him. Is he here?”
“Why do you want to see my uncle?!” Iris shrieked. “So you can add insult to injury? So you can make him feel worse than he already does?!”
“Please. This does not have to be so personal...”
“Of course it is personal! My uncle means the world to me! He is a good, kind man, and he opened his heart to you. I've never seen him open up his heart to anyone, but it wasn't good enough for you.”
“I care about your uncle very much!” Molly hid her hands beneath her skirts as she clenched them. She did not know how much more of Iris' tongue-lashing she could endure. “I wanted to tell him as much!”
“Well, you are out of luck, Molly. My uncle is not here.” Iris crossed her arms. “And it is just as well. If you came to tell him how much you care about him, then you are only being fickle. You should take some time to consider the feelings of others before you trample all over them!”
Molly sprang from her chair. She wanted to hold her tongue, to be polite, but this was outside of enough! “I do care about the feelings of others! I have dedicated most of my life to pushing others toward their happy endings! I am sorry you feel so bitter, Miss Crawford, but I deserve some happiness too!”
“Be that as it may, my uncle is not here,” Iris repeated. “If you came to see him, I don't think you have a reason to stay.”
Molly wasn't one to linger where she was not wanted. She spun on her heel and fled from the sitting room before Iris could utter another word. “Such rudeness...” she whispered under her breath. Molly was unaccustomed to being disliked. She was usually well-loved and easily befriended. Iris Crawford's hostility had her feeling sore.
When Molly stepped outside, she was greeted by a barrage of rain. “Fitting,” Molly whispered as she went to retrieve her horse. The dark clouds and steady drizzle somehow suited her mood. She mounted her horse and rode in the direction of Agatha's house. Despite the rain, her horse's pace was little more than a trot. She could not bring herself to ride any faster, as sullen as she was.
“Perhaps Miss Crawford is correct?” Molly mused. “Maybe I have been inconsiderate? Maybe I am fickle?” Despite their slow speed, her horse somehow managed to kick a clump of mud onto the hem of her dress. She was wearing one of her favorite gowns, and she had very few fashionable clothes, but she was not in the state of mind to worry about sullied garments. Her self-effacing thoughts, as well as an endless stream of rain, had her feeling terribly fatigued.
Molly saw someone heading toward her on the muddy path, so she tried to perk up. When she saw the passerby's face, she squeezed her horse's reins in her hands.
“Well, that is certainly serendipitous,” Molly whispered to herself. As Julian Crawford rode toward her, she wondered what she would say. After reading his letter to Madeline, she fancifully pictured herself flying into his arms. However, Miss Crawford's lecture had a sobering effect on her. Perhaps it would be best if she said nothing at all?
As their horses crossed paths, Mr. Crawford tipped his hat to her. “Miss Moseley...”
“Good morning, Mr. Crawford.” She greeted him. Her grip on the horse's reins was tighter than ever.
“Why are you out in the rain?”
“That was an unfortunate accident,” Molly said. “Besides, I could say the same to you. I don't think anyone chooses to ride in the rain, do they?”
“I am sure you are right.”
They brought their horses to a halt, and an awkward silence ensued. Julian was wondering if she had read his letter. Molly was wondering if she should hold her tongue.
“I was just visiting your niece,” Molly timidly confessed. “I think she might hate me.”
“Hate you? Surely not! She is slightly embittered, as I am sure you can understand, but she is very forgiving. I am sure you will be back in her good graces soon enough.”
“And what about you, Julian?” As the rain battered her face, Molly blinked rapidly. “Will I ever be back in your good graces?”
“Indeed,” he said. “You never left my good graces.”
The rim of Molly's sodden bonnet sagged against her eyes, so she tore the hat from her head. “I must look horribly bedraggled.”
“Not horribly bedraggled,” he countered with a grin. “Just a bit bedraggled. I would offer you my coat, but I am afraid it would not offer much along the lines of warmth, as wet as it is.”
“I am fine. I...” The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she could not bring herself to say them.
“We should ride on,” Julian said. “It was wonderful to see you.”
“And... it was wonderful to see you.”
“Good day, Miss Moseley.” He touched the rim of his beaver hat in polite salutation.
“Good... day...”
Julian's horse trotted forward, but Molly's did not move. She couldn't let him get away, could she? Not after she had been dying to see him all day.
“Julian!” she called to him over her shoulder. “Julian... wait.”
Julian stopped his horse and turned around. “What is it, Molly?”
Without thinking, Molly dismounted her horse, and when she did, her boots squished against the sodden ground. She tried to suspend the hem of her dress as she made her way toward him. “I need to speak with you!” she declared, her voice squeaking slightly. Without a doubt, she had never been so nervous in all her life.
Julian dismounted his horse when she approached. “Molly... you should get back on your horse and go home. You shouldn't be out in the rain!”
“I'll return to my horse soon enough, I just... I need to tell you something, Julian.” She tucked an errant tendril of soggy dark hair behind her ear. The rain was fogging her spectacles, so she removed them and stuffed them in her reticule.
“What could be so important that you need to tell me in the rain?”
“I still consider myself a matchmaker,” Molly said. “I am sure, if I put some thought into it, I could find a match for you.”
With a grunt, Julian turned back to his horse. “I don't want to hear it.”
“Wait! Hear me out!” She clutched his sleeve, halting his exit. “I believe I have already found the perfect woman for you!”
“Please, Molly... you know how I feel.” He gently removed her hand from his sleeve. “It would be too soon.”
“But I--”
“And it isn't as if I am a desperate man!” Julian exclaimed. “If you recall, finding a wife was never high on my list of priorities. If romance suddenly seemed important to me, it is because I was influenced by a particular young lady...”
“I assure you, Julian, the woman I have in mind for you would be perfect for you!” Molly insisted. “Won't you hear me out?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!” He started to mount his horse, so she grabbed his sleeve again.
“Her name is Molly.” As soon as she blurted the words, she had his attention. “And I think she might be in love with you.”
“You think she is in love with me?” Julian asked, eyebrow raised. “Or she is in love with me?”
Molly took a deep breath before giving him his answer. “I am quite certain she is in love with you, Julian. She thought she was in love with someone else, but she isn't. She cannot bear the thought of living without you. She--”
Julian captured Molly's head in his hands, snaking his fingers through her rain-drenched hair. She tilted her chin, silently begging for his kiss. Hi
s warm breath caressed her cheek as he brought his face closer to hers. When their lips touched, Molly was dangerously close to collapsing. A pleasant tingle riveted through her body, from her head to her toes. As he grazed his tongue against her lips, Molly whimpered with pleasure.
As soon as their lips parted, Julian whispered, “I won't give up. I won't give up on you. I need you.”
“I am yours.” Molly seized the lapel of his coat as she declared herself his. “I don't want to be with anyone but you, Julian Crawford. I love you.”
“Have I heard you correctly?!” Julian exclaimed. “You love me?”
“I do!” His smoldering gaze made her weak in the knees. “I've fallen in love with you.”
“I am sure my feelings are obvious.” Julian gently touched her mouth, tracing her lips with his finger. “As long as I live, I never want to kiss another set of lips. These lips... right here.” He playfully tapped her lower lip. “These are the only lips for me. I love you.”
The rain continued to batter their heads, but they didn't seem to care. Molly couldn't even move. All she could do was gaze into his eyes as he tenderly caressed her cheek.
“I love you, Julian Crawford,” she repeated. “I love you. I want you, and only you.”
“Do you mean it?”
Molly nodded. “Of course.”
Julian's face descended again; his nose brushed against her nose. “Then we will be together forever, won't we?”
Another nod from Molly earned her another kiss. As he devoured her lips, Julian wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could.
Even though he kept her grounded, she felt like she was floating on air.
Epilogue
Dear Molly,
I can hardly believe it! It has only been two months since your wedding, but you are already with child! Nevertheless, I am exceedingly happy for you and your husband. I have no doubt that Julian Crawford is the perfect man for you. He is warm and tender, attentive and caring, and he will be a wonderful father. I must confess, however, that I have a hard time imagining you as a mother! It will be difficult, but I know you will be able to handle it.
I know you still have guilty feelings about Lord Rocksavage, but rest assured, he will find someone soon enough. I confess I have stolen a tiny glimpse of the future... I know his story will end happily. Besides, he is a handsome, titled, eligible gentleman. I am sure he will have women clamoring for him soon enough.
Agatha is doing well. She is with me as I write this, nagging me... she would not let me put down the quill until I mentioned her. She is in much better spirits (please pardon my ironic choice of word), and all of her pain is gone. She wanted me to let you know she not only attended your wedding, she was sitting right in the front row! Our grandmother is more mischievous than you know. She claims she is going to haunt some handsome gentlemen! Shame on her!
I, myself, am being courted by an American! Papa would suffer an apoplexy if he knew! His name is Jack, and he is handsome, charming, and everything you would expect a gentleman to be! Do you think it is strange that I can still find love in the afterlife?
Have you decided what you will name your child? If the baby is a girl, might I suggest the name Madeline? It has a certain ring to it, wouldn't you say? If the child is a boy, perhaps you should name him after his father? I always thought Julian was a very powerful, regal name.
Please know that I am always watching over you, and that I always, always read your letters. I appreciate them more than you will ever know! I even read the letter from Julian, even though his penmanship was atrocious. I am sure the letter was not intended for me as much as it was intended for you, but I read it nonetheless. He is such a romantic! You have certainly enriched Julian's life. You have obviously made him a better man, dear sister!
I love you, Molly. I will always love you, and I know we will see each other again someday. Until then, you will forever be my best friend in the entire world, and I will always be at your side.
Love always,
Madeline
Miss Moseley the Matchmaker Page 11