by Regina Darcy
For a moment, he looked as though he were about to refuse her, only to shrug and sigh. “Very well,” he muttered, looking at the floor.
Silence dragged between them. Julianna realised that she was, in fact, still rather angry, suddenly remembering what it was about Lord Mowbray that had made her so. It was not Lord Mowbray, of course, but rather Ingraham himself. “I did not realise,” she began, her voice rather high pitched, “that you had told Ingraham the specifics about my plight, Ingraham.”
His head shot up, his eyes a little narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You told him about my injuries,” she continued, her voice suddenly breaking with the strength of her emotions. “You did not ask me whether or not such a thing would be appropriate or whether I wished for those intimate details to be shared with others, no matter who they might be to you.”
Ingraham’s brow furrowed, his eyes darting towards her for just a moment. “I did not think it inappropriate, Julianna. I trust Lord Mowbray. Would you not prefer to be courted by a man who knows the truth about what has happened to you, so that they would not have to be told the whole, startling story once a courtship is already underway?”
Her anger flared all the hotter. “What I would prefer, Ingraham, is to be consulted before such details are spoken aloud, no matter what it is you might consider to be best for me.” Controlling her temper with an effort, she forced her voice to remain steady. “Whilst I appreciate everything you have done for me, and whilst I want to ensure that you know every word I said to Lord Mowbray about you was from the heart, I cannot pretend I am not upset that you spoke to him of such personal matters without even thinking of me.” Lifting her chin, she narrowed her gaze just a little, refusing to allow her emotions to take control of her. “To know that another gentleman – a stranger – is aware of the wounds to my back is both humiliating and uncomfortable, Ingraham. You know of them, and I have trusted you thus far, but you have taken that trust and done with it as you please. Regardless of whether you know Lord Mowbray well, you ought not to have told him anything of such a personal nature without at least discussing the idea with me first.”
There was silence in the room for a long time after she spoke. Her words hung in the air all around her, moving closer and closer towards Ingraham as he sat in his chair, staring at the mantelpiece. His hands were tensed as they curled around the arms of the chair, his whole body rigid. There was no expression on his face, instead there was something like a blank look in his eyes.
And then, without warning, he rose from the chair and made his way towards the door, leaving her quite alone without saying a single word.
EIGHT
Julianna drew in a long breath as she walked into the ballroom alongside Christiana, one hand resting gently on her stomach as she tried to steady herself. She was more nervous than she could say, afraid that someone might recognise her, or worst of all, that either her uncle or Lord Faversham was present.
The ballroom itself was quite magnificent, with a roaring fire at one end, as was the custom during the Christmas season. The holly berries brought colour to the garlands and wreaths that decorated the room, and Julianna was quite sure she spotted a kissing bough hiding in the corner of the ballroom. It was being drawn into shadow, with only a few candles nearby. It was, of course, the tradition for such things, and to steal a kiss would be quite wonderful – although it was not thoughts of Lord Mowbray that thundered through her mind.
“You need not worry,” Christiana said encouragingly, as she looped her arm through Julianna’s with a gentleness that Julianna appreciated. “No one here will recognise you, for you look quite different to when you first arrived.”
Julianna managed a quick smile in Christiana’s direction, carefully smoothing out her beautiful rose-lilac silk gown that she had discovered lain out for her that evening by Florence. She had caught her breath at the sight of it, having never worn anything quite so beautiful. Being the daughter of a viscount, she had, of course, enjoyed wonderful gowns during her coming out, but this gown was a cut above those particular dresses. This was a lightweight silk that seemed to shimmer as she moved, and according to Florence, the colour brought out her eyes.
“I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, Christiana,” Julianna murmured, as the crowd of guests loomed ever closer. “This gown is truly one of the most remarkable gowns I think I have ever worn.”
Christiana smiled, although a knowing look came into her eyes. “You need not thank me for that,” she replied gently. “The gowns were ordered by Ingraham.”
Julianna stumbled and would have fallen had it not been for Christiana’s restraining arm. “Ingraham?” she repeated in astonishment. “He has purchased these gowns for me?”
“Indeed,” Christiana replied with a bright smile. “Did he not tell you? Your maid, Florence, sent the measurements to him at his request.”
Julianna was stunned, hardly able to draw breath at the thought of Ingraham’s continued generosity towards her. “He is very good,” she breathed, her mind no longer clouded with any sort of worry or anxiety over this evening’s events. “No, Christiana, he did not say.”
Christiana shook her head, although a tiny smile tugged at her lips. “No doubt he has his reasons.” Looking at Julianna again, she nudged her gently. “You think very highly of Ingraham, I think.”
A deep flush crept into Julianna’s cheeks at once, and she looked away. “How could I not?” she asked, a little flustered. “He has been quite wonderful to me and for no other reason than he has a compassionate heart.” She could not quite forget how he had left her the other day, unable to prevent herself from worrying that she had quite broken things between them even though she still felt more than justified in what she had said.
“You would be surprised, I think, to know what my husband has said about your benefactor,” Christiana replied, nodding and smiling to a few acquaintances but not stopping to speak to any. “Should you care to know?”
Julianna nodded, her heart thundering wildly in her chest for no apparent reason. Looking at Christiana, she saw that she still bore that knowing smile, her eyes filled with warmth.
“You need not look so worried,” Christiana laughed as she drew Julianna into a quieter part of the ballroom. “It is nothing terrible, I assure you. In fact, it is quite the opposite.”
“Oh?” Julianna held her breath as Christiana nodded, suddenly desperate to hear what she had to say.
“Charles Ingraham is, as you know, the second son and, therefore, had no requirements or duties and in fact has a good deal of wealth. He has spent years playing cards, gambling and the like, with very little thought or regard for anyone else. Until now.”
Julianna let out her breath in a rush, her heart slamming painfully into her chest.
“I think, Julianna, that whilst you are truly grateful for all he has done, Ingraham has been able to find an improvement in his character that would not have come about without you,” Christiana continued gently. “He has been kind and generous with his time and his wealth, which is what my husband remarked upon recently. I think it is quite a marked change, Julianna.”
“I see,” Julianna murmured, feeling her spirits suddenly sink lower. “I had not thought… I mean, I did not understand that Ingraham had not always been so very kind.” Her eyes closed tightly as she recalled how sharply she had spoken to him, only to now be presented with his obvious and ongoing consideration of her. “I did speak to him rather abruptly earlier. I feel quite ashamed of it now.”
“Oh, you need not!” Christiana exclaimed, pressing her hand for a moment. “I was rather surprised to hear that Lord Mowbray already knew of what had occurred to you, and I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to hear that Ingraham had been the one to tell him such things without even considering you!” Seeing Julianna’s astonishment, she laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid Thayne took a little longer to ready himself for our walk yesterday afternoon,” she said with a slight shrug
. “I confess I heard a little of your conversation, although I did not know you had spoken to Ingraham about it. I am glad you felt able to do so, Julianna. I think that quite proper of you.”
“All the same,” Julianna replied, butterflies pouring into her stomach. “I must now thank him for this gown – and the others that are in my wardrobe.” She shook her head, feeling torn between the guilt over what she had said and the knowledge that she had been quite right to do so. “I do not think he will easily be able to forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Christiana replied practically. “Thank him, yes, but do not go back on what you said, Julianna. He must see you as strong and capable, able to make your own decisions and quite determined to chase after what you desire. How else then are you to convince him that he ought to be the one to marry you?”
All of her breath left her body at once as Christiana’s words slammed into her, hard.
“Oh yes,” Christiana smiled gently. “I am quite aware of how you have been looking at the man, Julianna. I do not think I am the only one either.” Her smile was kind. “But you need not be embarrassed, my dear. I think it quite wonderful. Love is always a precious, precious thing, and it must be cared for so very tenderly.” She settled her hand on Julianna’s arm, leaning in just a fraction closer as though to impart a very great secret. “If you have an affection for Ingraham, I would urge you not to deny it, Julianna. Do not allow his seeming reluctance to deter you. Remember what my husband has said about the change he has seen in Ingraham and allow that to encourage you. Pursue love. Pursue Ingraham, if you must. He will come to realise the truth very soon, I am quite sure of it.”
Stars appeared in Julianna’s vision as she tried to make sense of what her friend was saying. “The truth, Christiana?”
A broad smile settled itself on Christiana’s face. “Why, that he cares for you too, of course. What else could it be?”
***
It was not until three hours later that Julianna finally met Ingraham again. He had not come to sign her dance card, nor had he made any particular effort to come in search of her. Julianna had not known what to make of this, despite the fact that Christiana’s words were still ringing in her ears.
Upon seeing him, Julianna felt her heart flutter, moving towards him quickly so that he could not escape from her. Ingraham inclined his head, his brown eyes somewhat darker than she remembered them.
“Julianna,” he murmured, his gaze flickering over her. “Might I say that you look particularly lovely this evening.”
“That is all thanks to you, I hear,” she replied swiftly. “I must apologise to you, Ingraham, I did not know that you had purchased these gowns for me.” Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze. “I thought it Lady Thayne’s kindness.”
He shrugged, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. “I am glad you like them, Julianna,” he replied. “Now, I will not keep you from your other admirers. Do excuse me.”
Julianna’s head shot up, astonished to see him turn away from her as though to walk away. Her face burned as she called his name, seeing one or two of the other guests glance at her in surprise.
“Yes, my dear cousin?” Ingraham asked, his voice catching the attention of those who had looked at her in the first place. “What is the matter?”
She flushed again, aware that her cheeks were burning with heat. “Might you walk with me for a time, Ingraham? The air is rather warm, and as you know, I am not inclined to dance this evening.”
“Not even with Lord Mowbray?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
Julianna smiled a little self-consciously, wondering if he realised just how surprised he sounded. “Not as yet,” she replied with a slight shrug. “Although he has greeted me.” She held his gaze steadily, seeing him flush and turn his head away.
“I was rude,” he admitted eventually, offering her his arm. “I do apologise, Julianna.”
Almost weak with relief, Julianna accepted his arm at once, and they began to meander along the edge of the ballroom, out of the way of most of the other guests. “I am sorry if I was overly sharp with you this afternoon, Ingraham,” she began quietly. “I do not want to put any sort of enmity between us.”
Ingraham shook his head, reaching over to pat her hand with his free one before he turned to look at her. “You need not apologise, Julianna,” he said softly, as they came to a stop. “It was I who was foolish. I spoke without thinking, ignoring the warning in my mind that I was not doing right.” His gaze lowered to the floor for a moment as he took in a long breath. “I apologise.”
She smiled at him, feeling tears burning in her eyes. “I cannot hold anything against you, Ingraham. Not when you have been so kind to me.”
“But I should not use the trust and friendship that has grown between us to step out of place,” he said fervently. “Nor should I have left you as abruptly as I did. I confess…” Trailing off, his brow furrowed all the harder, leaving her almost breathless with a sudden anticipation.
“Confess what, Ingraham?” she asked gently, aware that he was now holding her hand in his own. Sparks shot up her arm, sending a tingling all through her. She did not know what he was to say, nor what he wanted to say, but the anticipation was sending waves of excitement all through her.
Slowly, Ingraham raised his head and looked at her. “I confess,” he murmured, his breath whispering across her cheek. “I confess that I was struggling with a good many emotions this afternoon, not all of which I recognised.”
“I see,” she replied, her free hand pressed against her heart. “Might you tell me what such emotions were?”
There came no reply. Julianna saw him suddenly glance up, his cheeks burning with a fierce colour. Forcing herself to breathe steadily, she looked above them to see a kissing bough hanging just above their heads. Mistletoe berries seemed to shine in the candlelight with some notable by their absence. It appeared some gentlemen had already stolen a kiss. Would Ingraham be next?
It was as though time slowed. Ingraham reached up and plucked a mistletoe berry from the bough, bringing it down slowly between them. Julianna could barely draw breath, her eyes fixed upon it as the promise of what it might bring blossomed before them.
“Julianna,” Ingraham breathed, taking a step closer to her. The mistletoe berry was no longer what he gazed at, his eyes now fixed on her own.
“Miss Wade?”
The sound of Lord Mowbray voice broke the spell that the mistletoe was casting around them.
“No,” Julianna whispered, reaching out to grasp the side of Ingraham’s coat, pulling him a little further into the shadows. “No. Please do not abandon me now.”
It was too late. She could see it in his eyes. Shaking his head, Ingraham looked down at the mistletoe berry in his hand. Then, without warning, he dropped it to the floor, let go of her hand, and stepped away.
NINE
Charles was growing frustrated with himself. He could not seem to forget Julianna, and yet he knew that Lord Mowbray was the much better gentleman for her. Lord Mowbray was titled and, by all appearances, seemed to be taking his responsibilities seriously. He required a bride who would bring him an heir, and Charles could think of no one better than Julianna.
Except, for whatever reason, he could not remove Julianna from his mind, especially not now that he had almost kissed her. It had been some days since that event, and even though they had spent time together, even though he had watched Lord Mowbray and Julianna grow closer in their acquaintance, he could not rid himself of the desire to haul her into his arms and press his mouth to hers as he had almost done the night of the ball.
That had been foolishness in itself. He knew full well that, as Julianna had walked with him, he had guided them towards the kissing bough, even though he ought not to have. To even think about pressing his lips to hers had been ridiculous. He was not a gentleman who thought about marriage or the like! He was a man who liked to travel throughout England, and on occasion to France, simply to play cards and enjoy
his life. To marry would mean an end to all of that, would it not? He would have to settle down, to consider his future and, mayhap, find some sort of profession. Not that he didn’t have a small manor house of his own to care for, which if he remembered correctly, had some land and tenants to go with it, but he had never thought much of that sort of life. Having a steward meant that he could leave the running of the house and the caring of the land and his tenants to him, freeing Charles from all sense of responsibility.
And yet for whatever reason, he could not think of a life without her. In fact, to go back to the life he had once known seemed dull and boring in comparison to what he had now. Their friendship had grown with every day that passed, even though his own tumultuous feelings had added a strain to his mind.
Even when she had spoken to him about what he had said to Lord Mowbray, he had not been angry with her. Rather, he had been ashamed of himself, struggling to come to terms with this new strength he had seen displayed in her. She was not, he had realised, the quiet, defenceless lady he had once thought her. She had a strength all her own, a courage that ought to be respected. There was still so much about her that he had to learn, still so much about her that he wanted to uncover, but that would only come if he allowed him to consider what a future with her might look like.
“Ingraham!”
Closing his eyes, Charles drew in a long breath before turning to greet none other than Lord Mowbray, who had evidently also chosen to come out for a short walk before preparing for this evening’s ball.
“Good evening, Mowbray,” he replied, reminding himself that this was his friend and not, in fact, someone he was battling against for Miss Wade’s affections. He had pushed Lord Mowbray towards Julianna, had he not? He could not exactly be angry with the fellow for pursuing her, now could he?
“I hope you are looking forward to the ball this evening,” Lord Mowbray said jovially. “I hear it is a wonderful event. I was not here last year for the little Season, although I have heard delightful things about the Duke of Essington’s Christmas ball.”