by Regina Darcy
“Yes, indeed,” Charles replied dully. “Wonderful.”
“Julianna is to attend,” Lord Mowbray remarked, as though Charles were unaware of this. “I think this evening would be an excellent time for the lady to find herself engaged, would it not?”
Charles closed his eyes for a moment, battling against his sudden urge to slam a fist in Lord Mowbray’s face. “Indeed, it would,” he replied harshly. “I hope she accepts you.”
There was silence for a moment or two as they walked in silence.
Charles could not think of what to say, berating himself for his foolishness.
“You do recall what I said to you that day, don’t you, Ingraham?” Lord Mowbray voice was quiet, his question gently probing.
“Yes,” Charles muttered, not wanting to recall how, on the day Lord Mowbray had first come to call upon Julianna, he had evidently seen something in Charles’s expression. Mowbray had spoken to him bluntly as he had taken his leave, although Charles had attempted to deny the truth in Lord Mowbray’s words. “You stated that should I wish to pursue Miss Wade myself, that you would not stand in my way.”
Lord Mowbray cleared his throat. “Am I to presume that you have not chosen to do just that?”
“You presume correctly,” Charles stated firmly, hating himself for those words. “You are much better suited to her than I.”
“That is not what I asked,” Lord Mowbray replied, coming to a dead stop with a look of evident frustration on his face. “This is not about which one of us is better suited to the lady, for in that regard, I think that there is no particular difficulty with either of us.” He shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “You do understand, Ingraham, that I do not hold the lady in any sort of deep affection?”
Charles’s stomach twisted. “I am sure that will come, Mowbray.”
“It may not,” his friend replied evenly. “And yet, you evidently care for the lady but have chosen not to pursue her, which I confess to be most confusing. If I cared so much for a lady, then I would do all I could to make her my own. I do not think, Ingraham, that there are many marriages in London who can profess to love one another with the deep affection you appear to have for Miss Wade. That is a rare thing indeed.”
Charles said nothing, his lips drawn tight and thin. He could not even get his thoughts into coherent order, such was his confusion. He did not love Julianna, surely? To love another was something reserved for novels and the like, an idea which he had scorned before on many occasions. And yet here one of his dearest friends was suggesting that this affection he had was, in fact, the very first strains of love.
“I think, Charles, that you need to carefully consider what you will do next,” Lord Mowbray said slowly. “I have every intention of proposing to Miss Wade tonight, as I have told you, but if you wish to seek her hand instead, then I will gladly step aside. However, if you do not appear this evening, Ingraham, then I will know that you have chosen to give it all up. I will know that you intend to go back to your life, such as it was, without her. I will do everything in my power to care for Miss Wade in every way as my wife, but I do not think that it should be I who proposes to her this evening. However, I will do just that if you are not present, Ingraham. I will keep her safe and protected, even if you will not.” He tipped his head, his eyes firm as they bored into Charles. “You are foolish indeed if you give her up.”
Nothing more was said between them. Charles barely noticed when Lord Mowbray left his side, standing staring out at nothing in particular, whilst blood roared in his ears. Hail began to fall from the skies, hitting his forehead and cheeks with such ferocity that he started in surprise.
Rubbing his arms, Charles turned on his heel and began to walk briskly back to his townhouse, his stomach churning with sudden confusion. Was it not Julianna who had said something about promising her mother she would marry for love? Could he himself not be the fulfilment of that? It would mean giving up many things, but for Julianna, perhaps it would not feel too burdensome. He groaned, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand as hail stones rolled down the back of his neck, making him shiver.
He would no longer be able to gamble with such a fervour as he did at present, for he would have to ensure that his wife was comfortable and taken care of back at his small manor house. He would have to take on the duties and responsibilities he had been avoiding for so long. Everything in his life would have to change.
“They have already changed,” he muttered to himself, realising that the moment he had first decided to help Julianna had been the start of it all. He had chosen her, he had chosen to go to her side and, in doing so, had changed his world forever.
His brow furrowed as he climbed the stone steps into his townhouse, thrusting his sodden hat and gloves towards the butler.
“Sir,” the butler stammered, looking at Charles and evidently seeing that he was not in the best frame. “You have a visitor. One I was unable to turn away.”
“If it is Lord Mowbray, then I do not wish to see him,” Charles growled, peeling off his wet coat. “Is there a blazing fire in the drawing room? I am a little chilled.”
“Yes, sir, there is,” the butler replied. “That is also where your visitor remains. He had no card with him, but I thought to allow him to wait for you there, since it is such a cold day.”
Charles sighed inwardly, lifting one eyebrow. “Well?” he asked brusquely. “Who is it?”
The butler cleared his throat. “It is Viscount St James,” he replied, with a look of evident worry in Charles’s direction. “He said he has been looking for you for some time and would not be delayed any further, else I would have insisted that he call another day as you asked.”
At the name, Charles felt his blood turn cold. He stared at the butler as though he had not heard the man correctly, only to see his servant drop his gaze, looking rather upset.
“I am sorry if I have done wrong, sir.”
“No, no,” Charles muttered, his heart thumping wildly. “You have done nothing wrong. Thank you. I– I will go and see him now.”
“Should I fetch you something to drink, sir?”
Charles shook his head and walked towards the drawing room, feeling his heart thundering with a sudden nervous anxiety. He did not know how Viscount St James had found him nor what it was the man intended to say, given that they had never really met, but at least Julianna was quite safe. He would not give her location up to the man, not even if he was threatened with death. Charles had to hope that Lord Mowbray would do as he had promised and propose to the lady tonight. Then, at least, she would be safe.
With a good deal of trepidation, Charles settled his shoulders, lifted his chin, and reached for the door handle. Turning it quickly, he threw open the door and stepped inside, ready to meet his adversary.
TEN
Julianna could not pretend that she was not deeply disappointed. She had hoped that Ingraham would be present this evening at the Duke and Duchess’s ball, but it appeared that he was still quite absent. Each and every guest was announced, and as yet, she had not heard his name. The Christmas ball was wonderful in every other aspect, with the usual greenery, garlands, and paper flowers decorating almost every surface. She had heard mention of wassail and mulled wine as part of the refreshments, and as she had arrived, there had been a thin layer of snow on the ground – but none of it had lifted the disappointment from her shoulders.
“You are looking for Ingraham, I think.”
Glancing up into Lord Mowbray’s face, Julianna tried her best not to blush. “I was just wondering if he was to be in attendance this evening,” she admitted. “We have not spoken very often of late, and I find that I…” She trailed off, realising what she had been about to say.
“You realise that you miss his company?” Lord Mowbray asked with a heavy sigh. “Yes, Miss Wade, I have come to realise that.”
Despite her desire not to blush, Julianna felt her cheeks heat with colour, and she turned her head away, just as the wal
tz came to an end. She was feeling remarkably better these last few days and had been able to enjoy more than just one dance, although none had been shared with Ingraham.
“You need not be embarrassed,” Lord Mowbray said practically, as he bowed towards her before offering her his arm. “I had much the same conversation with Ingraham only this afternoon, although I fear that he may not be in attendance this evening because of it.”
A trifle confused, Julianna looked up into Lord Mowbray’s face.
“He does not consider himself worthy of you, my dear,” Lord Mowbray continued gently. “But whilst I consider him terribly foolish in this matter, I will not allow it to stand between us and what could be.”
Julianna swallowed hard as she was led from the floor, all too aware of what Lord Mowbray meant. She was not disinclined towards marrying him, she realised, given that he was a good and kind man, but had she the choice in the matter, then she would have preferred to delay so that she might try to convince Ingraham that he was more than enough in her eyes.
Unfortunately, given the fact that her uncle as well as Lord Faversham were most likely now nearing London in order to find her, she did not have that particular opportunity. Still, her heart broke at the thought of Ingraham choosing to step away from the happiness they could have shared, simply because he thought himself to be less than worthy.
“I have made you sad,” Lord Mowbray murmured gently. “I am sorry for it, Miss Wade. I have tried to speak to Ingraham myself, I swear it to you, although you may have better luck than I, should it come to it.” He smiled at her as he let go of her arm, his eyes gentle. “However, I fear that delaying our engagement and, thereafter, our marriage may be worse for you, Miss Wade, and it is that which concerns me.”
“I know,” Julianna admitted, her head dropping down as she tried to bear up under the sad truth that she would not be able to fulfil her promise to her mother and marry for love. “I confess, Lord Mowbray, that I have a deep affection for Ingraham.” She looked up, the truth on her lips no longer being held back. “I would not like you to be unaware of that fact.”
He nodded slowly, his smile fading away. “What shall you do then, Miss Wade? If you care for Ingraham so deeply, can you truly accept my proposal of marriage?”
She could not answer him, her heart slamming hard into her chest and knocking the breath from her lungs. Her eyes turned away from his, her mind and heart filled with Ingraham. Yet if she was to be safe and protected, she could not simply wait for Ingraham to change his mind and to begin to pursue her!
Lord Mowbray was willing to wed her despite what she felt for Ingraham, perhaps in the hope that, one day, she might have an affection for him in Ingraham’s place. They would, she knew, rub along together rather well, but Lord Mowbray could never truly take the place in her heart where she held Ingraham.
“Lord Mowbray,” she began, slowly. “I–”
“The Viscount St James.”
Her breath surged from her body, leaving her weak and trembling in a moment. Staggering, she reached for Lord Mowbray, grasping his arms in a sudden fit of terror.
“Miss Wade?” Lord Mowbray exclaimed, sounding horrified. “Are you quite well? Should I fetch some smelling salts?”
“St James,” she whispered hoarsely, turning away from Lord Mowbray so that she might be hidden in shadow. “Did you hear him being announced, Lord Mowbray?” Her eyes fixed on his, seeing the slow dawn of realisation. “My uncle is here!”
Lord Mowbray’s expression changed at once. “Your uncle?” he repeated, turning his head to scan the crowd of guests. “Are you quite sure?”
“I heard his name,” Julianna whispered, her fingers digging into his arms. “Oh, Lord Mowbray! What shall I do?”
He stared at her for a long moment, no answering remark coming from his lips. His eyes were wide, his expression one of complete surprise as he looked back at her. Julianna waited with growing desperation, entirely unsure as to what she could do to avoid her uncle. To remove herself from the ball now would take some time, for the carriage would have to be brought around, and that in itself might alert her uncle. To remain here, hidden away, seemed like the best idea, although she did not know whether or not she could remain undetected for the rest of the evening. Her anxiety was mounting with every breath, her body humming with tension – and still, she waited.
“Miss Wade.”
Lord Mowbray tone was firm although his voice was gentle.
“Miss Wade, will you marry me?”
She stared at him, her eyes rounding.
“At least if we make this announcement before the guests, then it will be more than difficult for your uncle to insist that you wed Lord Faversham,” he explained when she said nothing. “Although you must understand that it will be practically impossible for either of us to remove ourselves from it thereafter. You must know what it is that you want, Miss Wade.”
Julianna could not speak, her mind so filled with fear that it seemed nearly impossible to make any sort of sense of what Lord Mowbray was saying. To know what she wanted, other than to remain out of sight of her uncle, was rather difficult. Her heart yearned for Ingraham, suddenly desperate for him to appear by her side so that she might turn to him for rescue, as she had done before.
“Lord Mowbray,” she stammered. “I–”
“Where is my niece?”
She shrieked involuntarily and shrank back against the wall, silencing the crowd that surrounded them. Lord Mowbray immediately stepped in front of her, turning himself around so that she remained quite hidden.
“My niece, Miss Julianna Wade?” came the voice again, making Julianna’s stomach churn with fear. “I have been looking for her for some time and was informed she was here.”
“I think,” Julianna heard someone say, “that she is speaking with Lord Mowbray. Here, he is just over this way.”
Julianna moved without thinking, pressing herself against the wall as she hurried away from her uncle’s voice, keeping herself cloaked in shadows. The urge to run from him, to escape, was growing with every moment.
“Julianna!”
Her uncle’s voice grated behind her, and she shuddered violently, one hand pressed to her mouth as she attempted to quell her fear. She had to hide, she had to run from him. She could not allow him to capture her, not again.
“Julianna!”
She ran headlong into something solid, something that caught her about the waist. A scream came from her lips, disappearing into the shoulder of the man who had captured her. Her fists began to beat hopelessly against him, her whole body almost rigid with fear as the man held her tight.
“Julianna,” the voice said again, although slowly she began to realise that it held a good deal more gentleness than what she had expected of her uncle. “Julianna.”
She looked up, her vision blurry as she realised she had practically been sobbing as he had held her.
“Julianna,” Ingraham said again, his expression gentle as her fists slowly uncurled to rest gently against his shoulders. “I have you, my love. You are quite safe.”
Her body went weak with relief as she clung to him, her face in his neck as though she might hide there, as though if she remained as she was, her uncle would not even be able to see her.
“I came here as quickly as I could,” Ingraham said in her ear, his arms holding her tightly as the crowd about them began to whisper with all that was going on. “I am sorry I did not get here before him, Julianna.”
She lifted her head, wiping her cheeks indelicately with the back of her hand. “You knew he was coming.”
His eyes glinted. “Yes,” he said plainly, “but I only discovered his presence here late this afternoon. I should have come sooner, but I was busy trying to ensure that…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You do not need to fear your uncle, Julianna. Not anymore.”
Sniffing, she trembled visibly as she heard her uncle call her name, the crowd parting around them as the guests stepped out of his way.
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“No, no,” Ingraham murmured as she made to run away again. “No more running from this, Julianna. Trust me. You are to be quite safe.”
Everything inside her told her to run, to hide, to disappear, but as she looked into Ingraham’s eyes, she saw a steadiness there that urged her to trust him. She did not understand it, as she heard her uncle’s voice ring with triumph as he spotted her.
“Trust me, Julianna,” Ingraham whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. “This is all soon to be at an end, and I swear to you that you will be quite safe. Can you trust me in this?”
“Julianna!” she heard her uncle call, his voice harsh. “How dare you stand there and ignore me! I have been searching for you for–”
“Yes, Ingraham,” she said clearly, doing her utmost to ignore every word that came from her uncle’s lips. “Yes, I can trust you.”
His smile was warm and filled with gladness. “Good,” he whispered, squeezing her hand gently. “Now, turn and face your uncle. You have strength within you to withstand him, and I will be here, by your side, just as I ought to be.”
Swallowing hard and feeling the lump of fear in her throat, Julianna slowly turned around to face her uncle, seeing the dark grin on his sweaty, red face. His portly figure advanced towards her, his finger pointing angrily towards her.
“Step away from that man,” her uncle said harshly. “And get yourself outside to my carriage. We are leaving. Your fiancé has been sick with worry about you.”
She shuddered at the mention of Lord Faversham and shook her head. “No, Uncle. I will not.”
“You will do as you are told!” Spittle flew from his mouth as the other guests fell completely silent. “You will–”
“I will not listen to a man who tried to sell me to another,” she interrupted, her voice ringing across the ballroom. “Nor will I marry a gentleman who beat me until I was unconscious.” She heard gasps about the room but reached for Ingraham’s hand, feeling him gently press her fingers. “In short, Uncle, I will not do anything you ask.”