by Regina Darcy
Her uncle’s face darkened with rage. “Spiteful, disobedient girl,” he spat, reaching for her. “I–”
“Step away, brother,” a voice rang out, sheeted in steel.
Julianna gasped and turned around at once, hope fluttering in her chest. She could feel Ingraham’s warm chest supporting her.
“Announce it,” the man whom the voice belonged to said, as he smiled with delight down at Julianna. Throwing a quick glance towards the footman, he inclined his head. “Immediately, my good man.”
The footman, looking a little confused, cleared his throat. “May I present the Viscount St James, recently returned from the continent and father to one Miss Julianna Wade.”
ELEVEN
Being back in her father’s arms was something too wonderful to be expressed. Julianna found herself both sobbing and laughing in equal measure, hanging onto her father as though he would disappear if she let him go.
“I am quite all right,” he promised, taking a small step back from her to frame her face with her hands. “I am truly sorry I have been gone for so long, Julianna. I’m afraid someone tried to have me done away with, and it took a long while for me to recover. Then, having discovered that it was none other than my brother who had attempted to arrange for me to be killed out on the continent, I knew I had to be careful about my return.” His eyes dimmed, his hands falling from her face. “I am sorry that you have been so troubled.”
Julianna shook her head, words sticking in her throat. “You need not apologise, Father,” she whispered, hardly able to believe that he was truly standing before her. “I understand. Besides, Ingraham has practically been my guardian whilst you have been away.”
Her father nodded and smiled, seemingly unsurprised by this news. “I spoke to Ingraham this afternoon,” he explained, as the crowd of guests circled around them like hungry vultures, desperate for a smidgen of gossip. “As I said, I had to be terribly careful about my return. I was alerted to the news of Mr Ingraham’s distant cousin, Miss Wade, and knew it had to be you.” He inclined his head towards Ingraham, who was standing to Julianna’s left, a little behind her. “I can never thank you enough for what you have done for my daughter, sir.”
Ingraham cleared his throat and took a step closer. “She has taught me so very much, my lord, as I said to you this afternoon. I am a better man because of my acquaintance with her.”
Julianna flushed, her head lowering just a fraction at such a compliment. “You are quite wonderful, Ingraham,” she whispered, unable to look at him, such was the depths of what she felt in that moment. “I knew you would be there, ready to help me as you have done before.” Slowly, her eyes caught his, and she saw the warmth within his gaze, the whispered promise just waiting to be spoken.
Ingraham looked at her tenderly, a smile on his lips. “I think, then, that you are now in safer hands than mine, Miss Wade,” he said, bowing towards her father before taking another step away. “I should go in search of Lady Thayne, to thank her for her help in this matter. Do excuse me.”
Julianna watched him leave, her hands still holding on to her father’s. “I can hardly believe you are here, Father,” she whispered hoarsely, feeling tears pour back into her eyes. “Would you say that Uncle Herbert, that he…” She could not bring herself to say the words, aware that her uncle was guilty of a rather severe crime. Attempting to bring about someone’s death was a grave thing indeed. Looking over her father’s shoulder, Julianna felt apprehension fill her. “Where has he gone, Father?”
Her father lifted one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “He will have behaved just as I expected him to and will have run from the house,” he stated calmly. “Your uncle is not a brave man, Julianna. He is a coward, and knowing now that the truth of his actions will soon be brought to light, he has chosen to run from me.”
She stared at him, both angry and relieved.
“I will pursue him as best I can, of course,” her father continued calmly, as though he had thought everything out. “I had to hire a few good men to help with my return to England as well as discover who had attempted to have me done in, and they will give chase, I am quite sure. At any rate, your uncle shall have nothing more from me. There will be no more financial gifts, no more offers of assistance. Instead, I shall call in his debts.” His smile was tight, his expression drawn. “I do not think we need fear your uncle any more, Julianna.”
“Oh, Father.” She reached to hug him tightly, awash with relief. This had all been such a dreadful nightmare, her heart aching from day to day with the knowledge that she was all alone in the world. Not so now, she realised. She was quite safe, quite secure. Things could go back to how they had once been. Although, Julianna thought to herself as she stepped out of her father’s embrace, she was not quite sure that this was exactly what she wanted.
“You look a trifle confused, my dear,” her father commented as the Duke of Essington drew near, evidently wishing to speak to the Viscount. “Could it be because of Ingraham, I wonder?”
His eyes twinkled, and despite herself, Julianna blushed.
“You need not worry about going to him now,” her father said encouragingly. “He appears to be a good man in most respects, my dear. If you care for him, then I would press you towards him. It is quite apparent to me that he is hiding all that he feels for you, my dear, but you will be able to cajole him into speaking it aloud, I am quite sure of it.”
Julianna managed a small smile, her heart racing. “I do not want to leave your side.”
Her father smiled and patted her hand. “I will be here when you return,” he promised gently. “You need not worry that I will disappear again. You are quite safe, my dear, as am I. Go to him. I know he will want to speak to you.”
Seeing that her father had turned to talk to the Duke of Essington, Julianna drew in a few steadying breaths before lifting her chin and making her way through the crowd in an attempt to find Mr Ingraham. The Christmas ball was now back in full swing, with plenty of dancers already on the floor, and from what she could see, a few couples stopping near the kissing bough hung just above their heads. The memory of what had almost been shared between herself and Ingraham made her blush, her eyes eagerly searching the crowd for him. She would not be denied this time.
And then she saw him. He was not speaking to Christiana as he had said but was in fact standing quietly to the side of the room, his face pale and drawn. She stopped for a moment taking him in, only to hurry towards his side.
“Julianna!” His eyes widened at the sight of her as he pushed himself away from where he had been leaning against the wall.
She laughed softly and threw her arms about his neck, uncaring as to whether anyone might see them. “Oh, Ingraham,” she whispered, as his arms encircled her waist. “Thank you. Thank you for all you have done for me. How can I ever repay you?”
He let out a shuddering breath, his lips close to her ear. “You need not, Julianna. I meant everything I said to your father.” Slowly he let her go, his hands finding hers. “I have become a better man, simply by your acquaintance. I have been forced to consider my life, forced to look at the way I have been living. I have a manor house, land, and tenants to consider, but I have been more than content to allow my steward to run the place instead of taking on my duties as I ought.” Shaking his head, his lips twisted. “But no longer. I shall return there now, to live and work as I should have been doing for some time.”
The smile slowly faded from Julianna’s face, her spirits sinking to the floor. Was this Ingraham’s way of saying goodbye to her? Had he still decided against them?
“I hear I am to wish you happy,” Ingraham continued heavily. “Lord Mowbray will–”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “No, Ingraham!” she exclaimed, her eyes brightening with the sudden realisation that ran all through her. “Lord Mowbray has not yet proposed – I mean, he was considering it, but I did not accept him.”
Slowly Ingraham’s eyes settled on hers. “He did not?”
> “No,” she promised truthfully. “No, he did not. Besides which, I do not know if I could have accepted him, not when my heart belongs to you.” Julianna felt herself glow with delight as she spoke the truth to him, seeing the way he dropped his head for a moment, one hand pushing through his hair.
“I do not feel worthy of you, Julianna,” he admitted, his eyes still fixed on the ground by her feet. “I am not the sort of gentleman Lord Mowbray has become. I do nothing but gamble and roam the country, doing just as I please. Mowbray, at least, has taken his responsibilities seriously.”
“But Lord Mowbray does not have my heart,” Julianna whispered gently. “Can you not see that?” Squeezing his hands, she took a small step closer, the noise of the ballroom fading away. “I promised my mother I would marry for love. I think Ingraham, that such a thing might still be a possibility, if only you would see it.”
“I do see it!” His fervency surprised her. “I do see it, Julianna,” he promised, his hands now settling back around her waist. “I want to be worthy of you.” Shaking his head, he let out another breath before his lips finally began to curve into a smile. “I will do everything I can to make myself worthy of you, Julianna.”
Her heart quickened, her anticipation rising.
“Will you marry me, Julianna?” Ingraham asked, his gaze settling on hers again. “I love you. My heart belongs to you, and it will not let you go.” He smiled as a tear tracked down her cheek, aware that she was bursting with happiness. “I will love you, protect you, care for you, and share my life with you, if only you will accept my hand.”
“I will.” The words came from her without hesitation, leaning up towards him. “Of course I will, Ingraham. I love you, too.”
His lips were soft, whispering against hers for just a moment. Sighing, she leaned into him, her head settling on his shoulder. She would be able to fulfil her promise to her mother after all. She would marry for love.
“My Christmas bride,” Ingraham whispered in her ear. “My beautiful, Christmas bride. How I love you, my dear. Our happiness shall grow with every passing day. I can hardly wait to make you my wife.”
.
The End
BONUS CHAPTER:
THE VISCOUNT’S REVENGE (Part of LOVE ONE AUTUMN BOXSET)
ONE
Miss Christiana James, only daughter to the Viscount of Harrington, laughed to herself as she heard the shrill cry of her governess calling her name. She did not respond, of course, choosing to hide herself away deep within the gardens of her father’s estate.
It was not as though her governess, Miss Walker, was being deliberately annoying. Quite the opposite in fact. She was doing a marvellous job of trying to keep Christiana under control whilst her mother and father were gone to town for a time, but the truth was, Christiana did not particularly want to be kept under so watchful an eye. She longed for freedom, for the time when she might herself go to London and attend all the various balls and soirees that her parents were currently enjoying.
Not only that, but she was drawing closer to the age when she might start preparing for her debut into polite society, but her mother seemed insistent that she wait another two years! Christiana was rather annoyed by that, of course, given that some young ladies were allowed their debut at only a year older than she currently was. But her mother and father were quite steadfast.
The Viscount of Harrington, her father, was a hardworking and studious man who spent the majority of his time at his country estate alongside his wife and daughter. Their only son, Robert, had married some years ago and had already sired an heir. His wife had already produced first a daughter and then a son. Robert was eight years Christiana’s elder, which meant that she did not know him particularly well. That said, he appeared to be happy, which she was glad for.
Her niece and nephew were quite adorable, as well, and it was a relief to her parents that the family line would continue when the time came for the title to be passed on.
Now, of course, it was to be Christiana’s turn to be the focus of a matrimonial match, albeit not for another two years. Her mind was already filled with dreams about London and what she might experience there. She hoped that she would meet the most handsome of gentlemen and be courted beautifully by as many as her mother would permit before she made her choice.
Christiana’s governess always insisted that she learn womanly accomplishments such as watercolours and the like. Apparently, all young ladies of quality knew how to paint and embroider, but Christiana was much too dreamy to concentrate for any great length of time. She much preferred to walk in the gardens, away from the house, letting her head fill with all kinds of ideas.
Of course, once she returned, the governess would scold her, just as she always did, and Christiana would ignore her completely, just as she always did.
It was not as though Christiana was in any real danger, for she knew the gardens and even the grounds beyond very well. She had roamed all through them many a time, her heart soaring as high as the birds that sang above her. Out in the open, she felt a sense of freedom that carried her through the rest of the day, giving her hope and expectation for the future.
“One day,” she muttered to herself, pushing an errant curl out of her eyes. “One day, I shall be mistress of my own home and go wherever I please and do whatever I wish – with no governess to try and stop me.”
Lifting her chin, Christiana continued to walk through the gardens. The governess’s shouts grew distant and faint, until they disappeared entirely. This was just as Christiana liked it, being entirely alone within the grounds. It was just her and the small birds that chattered as they hopped about in the trees. She smiled to herself as the fragrance of the nearby rose bush clung to her senses, and her smile broadened all the more. This was heaven.
Walking purposefully towards the stone wall that ran the length of the estate, Christiana found the small gap and quickly squeezed through, laughing softly as the wind brushed her hair lightly across her face.
Her lock caught the sun, practically glowing red in its light as she tucked it behind her ear. She wore no bonnet – much to the chagrin of her governess – but she did not care whether or not she got a few freckles.
The autumn sun might still turn her skin brown, but come the winter, she would return to being as pale as a ghost once more. Christiana loved the feeling of the warm rays on her cheeks. She tipped her head up a little more as she walked further away from the house.
Coming to a fork in the small trail, Christiana chose to climb the hill to the right of her father’s estate, thinking that it would be a fine day for a view of the house and the surrounding countryside once she reached the top. Besides which, there was also a small brook that ran down the hill which would give her more than enough to drink since she was most likely to be rather thirsty by the time she climbed to the very top. Gathering her skirts, she began to climb, her breath already quickening as she scrambled up the rather steep slope.
It was a hill she had climbed a good many times, and the day was one of the best she could remember. There were only the smallest of clouds in the sky, and even that did not appear the least bit ominous. The different birdsongs seemed to blend together to make one beautiful tune, and, finally, Christiana found herself right at the top, only for her foot to slip And with a sudden, painful thud, she found herself flat on the ground. Pain shot up her leg, making her wince in sudden agony. This was not what she had intended.
Slowly pushing herself up to her knees, Christiana tried to stand, only to let out a soft whimper of pain when her ankle protested violently. Half hopping, half limping, she made her way to a large boulder to her left and with a great sigh of relief, sat down heavily.
“Good gracious!”
Christiana started violently in surprise. She twisted her head to see a young man of, she guessed, around eighteen years of age staring at her, his hands planted firmly on his hips.
She did not know what to say, staring into a pair of the most beautiful dark e
yes she thought she had ever seen. Her mouth went dry as he came closer to her, his long, wiry frame towering over her.
“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said quietly in a low voice. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“I – I fell,” Christiana replied haltingly. “I never fall. I know this place very well.”
“Oh?”
“My father is the Viscount of Harrington,” Christiana replied, finding her cheeks burning with both awareness of him and embarrassment over what had occurred. “His estate borders this area.”
The gentleman nodded with a small smile lingering on his face. “I see. You must be Christiana James then. Well, I am Bartholomew Hart, heir to Lord Stockington. I am visiting a relative and thought to come for a short ride into the countryside.”
Christiana frowned, glancing up at him. “But you have no horse.”
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with mirth. “No, indeed. You are most observant. He was tired, so I left him tethered to an old post a little further down the hill. I did not think that anyone would try and take him, since there did not seem to be anyone else about! I did fancy climbing the hill for the view, you see.”
Christiana managed a brief smile.
“I see. Yes, of course, there is no one who would take your horse, my lord. They are all quite honourable, I assure you.”
“Who?”
“My father’s tenants,” Christiana replied at once, her cheeks burning crimson as she realised just how poorly she was explaining herself. “They work the fields near the hill and would not touch your horse.”
He smiled again, looking down at her. “And may I ask what you are doing up here all on your own?” he asked in a tone that made her feel like an errant child. “Or is someone with you?”
“I come out here often on my own,” Christiana replied, a little defensively. “However, I have hurt my ankle, which is why you find me sitting here on my own. I am just waiting for the pain to go away before I return home.”