She quirked a smile. “I take your point. Are you wealthier than the king?”
He stared at her without reply.
“Oh dear,” she breathed, letting her hands slip to her sides. “Youarewealthier than the king.”
“It’s possible,” he said. “One doesn’t go about saying such things aloud. After all, one doesn’t wish to have half their estates taken away from them in a fit of pique from a monarch.”
“Surely he wouldn’t do it, would he?”
“No, but Queen Charlotte has a temper on her.”
“Do you like the queen?” she asked. “I’ve only been presented to her, but that doesn’t really allow one to know her at all.”
“She’s a marvelous woman,” he said easily, before a dark look shadowed his gaze. “She’s put up with a great deal. She’s quite formidable. Anyone who can deal with our current king; well, my hat is off to her.”
“It must be very hard,” she said, feeling a touch of sadness. “Weren’t they supposed to be very much in love?”
His face hardened. “Yes. They loved each other dearly, from what I understand. But life often has a way of twisting things about.”
“Yes, it does,” she replied, frowning, surprised by his harsh tone. In general, James seemed a compassionate sort. But not in this, it seemed.
“Let us not talk about lost love,” she rushed. “Therefore, I proclaim no more Romeo and Juliet. Tragedy shall not befall us.”
Much to her surprise, he tsked. “It only became a tragedy because of the machinations of other people. If the friar, the nursemaid, and their parents had not gotten involved, neither would have died.”
She cocked her head to the side, amazed at his passionate defense of the young couple. “Do you think so? Would they have lived happily ever after?”
“No,” he replied carefully. “But you already know I do not believe passion is a basis for marriage.”
She did not know if she would understand him. He was not an unfeeling sort. How did he think two people could be happy in marriage without passion? But then again, he had far more experience of passion than she.
“How do you think it would have worked out if they’d lived?” she asked.
He winced. “Do you truly wish to know?”
“I am made of sterner stuff and can take whatever you suggest,” she promised dramatically.
“Given the fact that Romeo was waxing poetic about Rosaline being his great love mere hours before the masked ball? He would have found a new Juliet within a few days.”
Her mouth dropped open as he skewered the famous lover. “Romeo always did seem very emotional.”
“Juliet was much more interesting,” he said firmly. “And I’ll tell you, Jack, you do not want a man who can fall in love that fast. For certainly he can fall out again just as quickly.”
She frowned. “What a disheartening critique.”
“But correct,” he said, with a wag of his finger. “Now, never you fear. I shall ensure that you do not pick anyone foolish. You shall regale me with tales of their courtship and their proposals. And I shall let you know who will be a good choice or not.”
“I do wonder how you got into this line,” she said, tugging at the neck of her shirt, which suddenly felt rather tight.
He stilled. “I beg your pardon?”
She cleared her throat, realizing her offhand comment might be taken for more than she meant. But now that she’d said it, she wouldn’t retreat. “How did it suddenly occur to you one day that you were good at this, at making matches?”
He looked toward the fire, and his face transformed with memory, as if he was being pulled back to something he did not wish to recall. “I don’t know if I can explain it,” he said. “I just suddenly started putting people together, and they were happy. None of them were in love. None of them felt as if their lives had been shaken to the core by the meeting of their partner. But I seem to find people who suit, like puzzle pieces that belong together. They are content.”
“And do you think that’s the most important thing?” she asked softly.
“Oh yes,” he said, whipping his gaze back to her. An intense dedication to his cause crackled in his eyes. “If I had my way, everyone should marry their best friend.”