“Yes, do take your mother’s advice, daughter. What kind of girl tries to refuse a Duke?”
“If it were me, I certainly wouldn’t.”
Eleanor’s voice was wistful, even envious.
Juliana looked at him again, feeling overwhelmed. His eyes held warmth, and his fingers tightened on hers. The memory of his lips on hers came back to her, making her heat through her whole body. He looked… certain, sincere… loving. The concept that someone other than her family might actually love her – her, the ungainly, unpopular one, was something she had never expected to contemplate. It brought tears to her eyes. She took a deep breath. For the last nearly four years, she had hidden, not reached for anything she wanted. Today, she would reach. For she wanted him, she wanted a life with him, more than she had ever wanted anything.
“Then… if you are sure….”
“I am absolutely certain, or I would not have asked.”
“Then… yes, yes, I will marry you.”
He pulled her to him, and brought his lips to hers for a moment before releasing her.
“Thank you. You have just made me the happiest I have ever been in my life. And I suspect that this will make my mother the happiest she has ever been in her life, too.”
She gave a shaky little laugh, remembering that day, when they had each admitted to only being at the house party because their mothers required it. How very long ago that seemed now.
“Well, I think that this calls for a celebratory drink. Let me ring for some wine and some brandy.”
Lord Delbarton set about doing so, and Lady Delbarton and Lady Eleanor immediately began to discuss wedding dresses, locations, wedding breakfast menus and more. Unable to help herself, she looked up at the Duke – oh goodness, she didn’t even know his family name, or given name, and now she was to marry him! - and made a little grimace, rolling her eyes in the direction of her mother and sister. He laughed softly.
“I think that, once my mother becomes involved in this planning too, we will have no choice but to simply allow them free rein.”
“Perhaps that would be best, although I will, at least, have some say in what I wear!”
The sense of comfort, of companionship between them astounded her – how had she come to be so easy in his presence? She knew that she would still worry, would still struggle to believe that he really wanted her, was not just being honourable, but, she began to see, if she could trust that he spoke the truth, her life might become far more pleasant than she had ever imagined was possible.
Mrs Hardcastle herself brought the tray with the wine and brandy, smiling broadly. Lord Delbarton had explained why it was needed, and now, she was quite sure, every member of the boarding house staff knew as well.
“My congratulations, Your Grace. I am sure that everyone in the district will be delighted for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs Hardcastle.”
The woman set the tray down on the side table, then turned back to them all, a thoughtful expression on her face. After a moment, she spoke again.
“Your Grace, you know that I’m not normally one to gossip, but I think I ought to tell you of something that happened just an hour or so ago.”
Juliana looked at Mrs Hardcastle, wondering what her words were about, fearful for a moment that the afternoon’s events had been seen after all.
“Yes, Mrs Hardcastle – and what might it be that you think I should know about?”
“When I rode out this afternoon, I returned by way of the Inn, to arrange our next delivery of wines. In the stable at the Inn,” Juliana’s breath caught, and fear twisted in her stomach, “I ran straight into Lord Fondleton,” the fear redoubled its strength, “in a rather steamy embrace with Lady Prudence Baggington.”
Juliana released her breath with a whoosh, and caught the Duke’s eye. He seemed almost more startled by Mrs Hardcastle’s words than she was.
“Really? And what happened then?”
“I told them in no uncertain terms what I thought of such behaviour in a public stable, and dragged them both immediately to her mother. Rest assured, they’ll be wed very soon.”
The Duke appeared to be having some trouble keeping a calm face. She suspected that he was, as she was, on the edge of hysterical laughter. Fortunately, Lady Delbarton, oblivious to their difficulty, spoke up.
“How lovely! It’s a day for the arrangement of weddings then. It’s amazing how house parties promote young people becoming attached.”
“Definitely – even longstanding arrangements can change in a moment, under the right conditions.”
Mrs Hardcastle’s eyes were on Lady Juliana and the Duke as she spoke, and Juliana was quite certain that she was aware of their reactions, even if she did not know the reason for it.
“Oh yes. Let’s hope that the last few days of this party bring more delightful news.”
Lady Delbarton looked pointedly at Lady Eleanor as she spoke.
“One never knows. I’ll leave you to your celebrations.”
Mrs Hardcastle closed the door behind her, and Juliana gratefully accepted the glass of wine that her father passed to her. She felt in need of fortifying, after the day that she’d had, which wasn’t over yet.
~~~~~
As the carriage rolled up the drive of Kilmerstan Castle, Garrett looked back over the previous week with a sense of wonder. His life had changed so much. But the thing that most concerned him at the moment was telling his mother.
He hoped that she would be delighted, but he wasn’t sure – had she really actually like Lady Prudence as a candidate for his wife? Had she, perhaps, heard the gossip about Lady Juliana, and believed it? He worried about it, but could do nothing but tell her as soon as possible. His head ached thinking about it.
When he descended from the carriage, he gave the footman his own valise, and Lady Juliana’s smaller one, as if both were his. He would arrange its return to her in due course, inconspicuously.
The door opened, and the butler greeted him.
“Warton – is the Duchess here, or at the Dower House?”
“Her Grace is in the parlour, Your Grace, with your sisters.”
“Thank you, Warton. I’ll just refresh myself before joining them, if you would let them know that I’ve arrived.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Twenty minutes later, after Timms had returned him to a suitable level of respectable appearance, muttering quietly all the while about it proving that he couldn’t actually care for himself for two days after all, Garrett went straight to the parlour. Best to get this over with as soon as possible – surely, if he’d had the courage to ask Lady Juliana, he had the courage to tell his family of his betrothal.
When he entered the parlour, his mother looked up from the embroidery she was working on.
“I’m pleased to see that your trip to Bath was really only short. I did wonder if it was simply an excuse to avoid the social events.”
Garrett smiled, pleased that he would not ever have to tell his mother the truth of the ‘business’ behind his journey. He was quite certain that, once he delivered his news, all thought of the trip to Bath would disappear from her mind.
“I do not always act only to avoid social interaction! Regardless of that, I have some rather important news to tell you.” His sisters paused, suddenly still, and looked at him curiously. He took a steadying breath, then plunged on. “Lady Juliana Willoughby has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife.”
He had never seen his mother speechless before, but he did now. Her mouth had fallen open a little, and her eyes were wide and startled. She studied him as if he had become some alien creature, transformed before her eyes. He waited, struggling not to laugh, as the silence extended.
“Your wife…?”
“Yes Mother, I am to marry, as you have so persistently encouraged me to do – are you not pleased?”
She stared at him for a moment longer, bemused, then her inherent practicality came to the fore.
&n
bsp; “Well, of course I’m pleased that you have finally recognised your duty to the title. But… Lady Juliana? How did this happen?”
“As it usually does, I suspect. I had been introduced to her at Hallingbrook Grange, we spoke a number of times, and I found her intriguing, different, intelligent, and most importantly, she showed no signs of being a fortune hunter, only interested in my title. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“But… so soon?”
“Very simply, Mother, my trip to Bath gave me the time to consider my feelings, and I discovered that those feelings were such that, upon my return, I went to her father, requested his approval, and, discovering that she had recovered from her indisposition of the last few days, immediately asked her to marry me. She was kind enough to accept my offer.”
His sister Isabelle had been studying his face as he spoke, her lips twisted in an almost cynical manner. Now she spoke – a clear, sharp question that brought silence to the room again.
“That all sounds very proper – but… do you love her?”
Garrett blinked. So, his sister believed in love, did she? He was, he thought, pleased.
“Yes Isabelle, I do love her. Surely you can see that nothing less than love would have turned me from a man avoiding marriage to one actively seeking it?”
The Duchess made a small sound, and he turned back to her.
“Then let us hope that you have made the right choice, Garrett. Love has been known to lead people into foolishness before now.” It was Isabelle’s turn to make a strangled noise, and, when Garrett glanced at her, she was flushed. He wondered what that was about. “So, tell me, is there any truth to any of the ludicrous sounding gossip about Lady Juliana? There’s been enough of it these last few days.”
Garrett released the breath he had been half holding. At least it seemed that his mother had not believed everything she’d heard. Still, his next words would be very important – he considered what it might be safe to say. Eugenia spoke softly.
“I, for one, could not discern any truth in it.”
He was immensely grateful for his sister’s sense.
“There is not. It is true that her first and only Season, a few years past, was a disaster – but not through any fault of hers. She was young, and unpolished, and a little unsure of herself in all ways. It was enough to make her a target for those of the ton who delight in destroying others, and their nastiness demolished the little confidence that she had. She has tried to forget it, and had succeeded, living quietly, until she came here. And someone here remembered, and chose to resurrect the gossip. Someone we all know.”
“Why would anyone do such a terrible thing?”
Eugenia looked genuinely puzzled by the concept – his sister always believed the best of everyone, no matter how obvious it might be that a person was not of a kind nature. His mother, however, appeared to have some inkling of his meaning.
“Jealousy, my dear sister. I would not normally speak ill of anyone, but I feel that I must make it clear what happened. Lady Prudence Baggington, who, as you know, had held a tendre for me for years, not only spread gossip about Lady Juliana, but actually threatened her person.”
The Duchess gasped, shaking her head, and Garrett wondered if he had made a mistake – but, even if his mother genuinely liked Lady Prudence, he needed her to know the truth.
“Well! The ungrateful little baggage! I’ve only put up with her this last few years out of courtesy, hoping that she would eventually realise that you simply weren’t interested. But this! I shall have to cut her. I can’t associate with a woman who would do such a thing.”
Relief coursed through Garrett. It was time, then, to deliver the last piece of startling information for the afternoon.
“You’ll not need to worry about her annoying presence for much longer, Mother. For this afternoon, at around the same time that I was asking Lady Juliana to marry me, Mrs Hardcastle happened to stumble upon Lady Prudence, in a most inappropriate embrace with Lord Fondleton, in the stables at the Inn. I believe that a betrothal was immediately agreed upon. So Lady Prudence will be leaving Upper Nettlefold soon, to marry.”
The Duchess was, for the second time that day, struck speechless. It was Isabelle who spoke.
“Fondleton?” she shuddered, “but he is just horrible! I know that Lady Prudence has deplorable taste in fashion, in most things, for that matter, but really, that she would voluntarily embrace a man like Fondleton! Revolting!”
The Duchess nodded.
“I must agree Isabelle. I cannot imagine why she would make such a choice. But she has, and she must live with it. I will not miss her company. This has been a most dramatic afternoon. I feel the need of a sherry – Garrett, please ring for some.”
Garrett did so, and dropped into his preferred seat near the unlit fireplace. A sense of peace descended over him. He still could not quite believe that Lady Juliana had accepted his proposal, but the idea of a life with her stretched ahead, deliciously enticing. The sherry arrived, and his mother sipped at her glass, a thoughtful expression appearing on her face. He knew that look. His peace was about to be shattered, he was sure.
“So, we’ve a wedding to plan. How delightful. And Lady Juliana’s figure and colouring are perfect, she will make a beautiful bride. I must call upon her mother immediately, and get the planning under way.”
“Immediately? But Mother, it’s very late afternoon – hardly calling hours.”
“Oh pish, Garrett, this is a special occasion, I’m sure that she will forgive me for the unusual hour. We have so much to plan.”
That said, the Duchess swallowed the last of her sherry, dropped the glass onto the tray, and almost rushed from the room. Isabelle looked at Garrett, her eyes full of mischief, brighter than she had been since before her escapade to London.
“You, brother dear, are doomed. Our mother will conspire with Lady Juliana’s mother, and you will have absolutely no say, whatsoever, in your own wedding. And I shall make no attempt to save you. You deserve it all, for not giving us any warning – how could you keep such a thing secret until now?”
Garrett did not say what he thought, which was that he had kept it a secret from himself, too, until that very afternoon.
Chapter Fourteen
Isabelle’s prediction was accurate. Garrett and Juliana found themselves swept along by their mothers in a whirlwind of planning. By the evening of the next day, when everyone gathered at Hallingbrook Grange for the last evening of the organised activities of the house party, the gossip had run ahead of them.
Everyone knew of the Duke’s betrothal to the previously somewhat scorned Lady Juliana, and everyone also knew of the forced betrothal of Lady Prudence and Lord Fondleton – the scandal of which made for far better gossip material than the more ordinary situation of the Duke. Lady Juliana became someone to be nice to - after all, one did not want to upset a future Duchess!
To Juliana, the whole evening seemed like the conclusion of a farce presented on the stage, with all of the twists and turns revealed – well… not all. No-one knew of her time in the carriage with the Duke, of her trip to Bath.
What a difference a betrothal had made – perhaps, if that was all it took to cause people to be pleasant to her, she might have considered marriage far earlier. She was still unsure in some ways – still, deep inside, believed that he was only marrying her because he felt that was the honourable thing to do. But how could she question him? He would deny it. And the selfish part of her wanted him anyway, wanted this magical change in her life. But a small core of guilt tugged at her.
Later in the evening, they stood at the end of the terrace at Hallingbrook Grange, the soft summer breeze bringing the scent of roses from the garden, and he slipped his arm around her. She leant against him, savouring that remarkable scent, which was his beautiful cologne, and something more, something that was purely his own scent. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and she sighed.
“Are you happy, Juliana?”
&nbs
p; She turned a little, looking up into his eyes. There was heat there, and something more – love? Surely not… but a small hope began to grown in her heart.
“I… think so. I am not used to being well regarded.”
His fingers brushed the curve of her cheek.
“We will change that. I will not tolerate anyone treating you with anything other than the utmost respect.”
She nodded, unable to find words.
Further along the terrace, a door opened, and another couple stepped through. Juliana tensed instantly. It was Lady Prudence and Lord Fondleton. Lady Prudence’s sharp voice came to them clearly.
“It’s all your fault! How could you do this to me, for a silly moment’s pleasure because you were annoyed! Now I will never be Duchess, as I was fated to be!”
“Surely, my dear betrothed, being a Countess is not such a terrible fate? And it cannot be entirely my fault – if you had not been sneaking about in a stable like a common servant girl, you would never have been there for me to run into! If you remember, you did not exactly fight me, you seemed to take some pleasure from the kiss, if my memory serves me right.”
Fondleton’s voice was full of an almost malicious delight in Lady Prudence’s annoyance. Juliana remembered his odd words about a little fight giving him pleasure, and concluded that, in Lady Prudence, he would certainly get that. Lady Prudence spun to face Lord Fondleton, her voice quite low for her.
“How dare you imply that I would…”
Her words were cut off as Fondleton dragged her against him, sealing her mouth with his lips. He had spoken truly, she did not seem to be fighting him. Juliana felt like retching at the memory of the man’s touch – how could she…? Lady Prudence suddenly wrenched herself from his arms, and stormed blindly away along the terrace. The speed of her movement brought her to within a small distance of Garrett and Juliana before she realised that they were there. She halted, glaring.
“You! You ruined my life! I’ll…”
“You will do nothing, Lady Prudence, but marry your betrothed and leave this district for your new home. Unless both of you would like your indiscretions to become known to the ton at large?”
The Duke and the Spinster: Clean Regency Romance (The Nettlefold Chronicles Book 1) Page 12