"He'll be here any moment Father, do you really have to wear that?"
Juliana looked at the Reverend Honeyfield in despair. Despite the heat of the July sun, her father was wearing his full liturgical regalia. He must have been boiling, but there was nothing but quiet joy on his face.
"This? My child, this is the cloth, and it is Sunday."
"It is Sunday afternoon, Father, service is over," Juliana said. "See, I myself am dressed in a muslin gown, light and airy so I will not overheat in the sun."
"And I too, Uncle," joined Audrey. They were standing in the hallway by the front door, and she looked sternly at her uncle. "I would not wish for you to become overly warm. My own father finds that black is too much often for these summer months."
"And your father is not a clergyman." The Reverend Honeyfield spoke with a finality that told both women that the conversation was over. "And regardless, there is surely not enough time to change before young Mr Lovell arrives. It was one o'clock that you agreed with him, was it not Juliana?"
Juliana nodded, and attempted to keep her cheeks from blushing. "It has been just over a week since I have seen Mr Lovell who had been called back to Maplebridge for business, but before he left he asked for a walk with myself, and with you father, today at one o'clock - but he is meeting us at the Palace end of St. James' Park so we must leave within the next ten minutes. Plenty of time," she said sternly, "for you to change."
But the Reverend Honeyfield was far more stubborn than his daughter. "If the cloth is sufficient for my parishioners, then it is sufficient for strangers and acquaintances that we see this afternoon. Now; shall we?"
Juliana sighed, but nodded. The last thing that she wanted was to be late seeing Rufus. It seemed an age since she had last seen him, and she had not missed anyone like this since the time that Audrey and she had been separated for over a year - and still, this was different.
"Let's go," she said decisively, and opened the door - to see Rufus Lovell standing outside. "Rufus! I mean, Mr Lovell," she said hastily, casting a glance back to her father. Thankfully, the Reverend Honeyfield did not seem to have noticed. "I had thought that we were meeting - "
"I could not wait." Rufus had tried to keep calmness in his voice, but his eagerness was plain to see, and even the Reverend Honeyfield noticed it now.
"My word, Mr Lovell, you must have doubled your journey to meet us here!"
Rufus threw open his arms. "But what a lovely afternoon, Reverend Honeyfield! I simply could not wait indoors this morning, and so I took a slightly longer route to enjoy the air, and found that my footsteps led me here."
Juliana smiled to see the man that she was rapidly falling in love with, standing there tall and beaming, willing to take a walk with herself and her father. Not that the Reverend Honeyfield was a difficult man, of course; just a man rather determined not to bow to the currents of popular opinion. It had led him well these last twenty years, but it was not something that her friends had often understood - and as for male acquaintances . . .
"Walk with me, young Lovell," said her father as they stepped out of their hallway and into the sunshine. "My, this July sun is really coming down! So, Mr Lovell, which church are you a parishioner of?"
Juliana could not help but smile as she stepped behind them, and watched Rufus attempt to respond to her father's gentle prodding. What was he expecting, she thought? As soon as you ask a man for a chaperoned walk with his daughter, you've made your intentions clear.
But Rufus was in his element. "Well, sir, when I am staying here in London I find that I frequent St Martin in the Fields the most often - but when at home in Maplebridge, I of course worship at our parish church. You may indeed know our vicar there, a Stephen Markham?"
"Reverend Markham, I do indeed!" was the happy response from the Reverend Honeyfield as they rounded the corner and entered St James' Park. "How is my old friend, I knew him from Oxford!"
"Absolutely blossoming sir," replied Rufus, throwing a smile back to Juliana who beamed back at him. Who would not want the man that they love who raised them and the man that they were falling in love with to converse so happily?
"Yes, we mentored many young men between us during our time there," reminisced the Reverend Honeyfield. "One of them, Leonard Tyndale, is making his own mark now in India of course. There was no stopping him, despite the fact that he is a very talented teacher in his own right. We receive letters, but it not quite the same as seeing him in the flesh."
The park was busy; Sunday afternoon was, after all, the time to see and be seen, and many groups were promenading around the paths, nodding and bowing to acquaintances and friends, staring interestedly at those who they did not know.
At times the path would narrow so much so that Rufus would be obliged to step back and allow young ladies to pass them, and these were the moments when he would take Juliana's hand and squeeze it. She would stare at him in almost amazement; was this what happened to other women?
"Although I must say you were right, Juliana," said the Reverend Honeyfield, looking back at his daughter. "It is most humid today. I think that I shall repose for a few minutes here on this bench under the trees."
"Are you well, sir?" Rufus was quick and attentive, but he was waved away.
"Quite well, just a little hot," said the Reverend Honeyfield. "But please, I do not wish to detract from your walk. Why do you two not take some time to walk around, and I shall sit here and watch you both."
Juliana bit her lip. "Are you sure, Father? We are quite happy to go back home so that you can enjoy the cool of the parlour."
But the Reverend Honeyfield was not to be questioned. "Do not fuss over me, child; go and enjoy Mr Lovell's company, and I shall be right here waiting for you."
Rufus could see that Juliana was concerned, but he could not help but take this chance to speak to her alone. If he had the courage to do what he wanted, if he was only able to get her alone . . .
"We shall not be long," Juliana was saying to her father. "Will we, Mr Lovell?"
Rufus swallowed. "Not long at all, sir."
He felt as though he were a king when Juliana placed her hand on his arm, and they slowly made their way from the bench, with Juliana throwing back her head every few steps to look back at her father.
"He will be quite well, Juliana," Rufus said gently.
Juliana laughed. "Quite well, I think; he's already fallen asleep in the shade."
Joining in with her laughter, Rufus looked back to see the Reverend Honeyfield with his mouth slightly open, sitting comfortably on the bench. "I must say, without giving any offence, I am most surprised to find that your father is not . . . well, boring! I had always assumed that anyone of the Church would be - "
"Unbearable?" Juliana interrupted, and she laughed. "You would not be the first person to say such a thing to me. In fact, I think that all of my friends have made a remark of that nature at one time or another."
They passed another group of people, Rufus bowing as they walked to one of them, and then continued on their way.
"I think your father is just set in his ways," said Rufus slowly, "and he reminds me that it is possible to have a father that is interested in the world, and in his child. It is not a role model that I was afforded."
Juliana's heart broke for him. "Ever since our previous conversation," she admitted quietly, "I have not been able to stop thinking about what you said, regarding your parents. It must have been a very lonely time, for you, and for your brother, and for your parents."
Rufus laughed drily. "Loneliness does not quite cut it, I'm afraid. Although I suppose I should be glad for the lessons that such a start in life has taught me. I'm now blessed with the talent of being able to converse quite happily with almost anyone. Anyone is better than no one."
His arm was warm, but it did not cloy; it was the reassuring warmth and strength that Juliana found had been missing all her life. The love that her parents had given her simply wasn't the same.
"I . . ." start
ed Rufus, who then swallowed. "Juliana, I am glad that your father has given the two of us some time alone. I must admit that - "
"Wait," interrupted Juliana. "Come, let us sit down here, underneath the oak trees."
A little away from the path, and a little hidden from general view, Juliana found that her heart was beating so much that she did not feel completely able to continue walking in polite society without someone guessing that she was about to declare exactly how she felt for this man beside her. Self control, she reminded herself. You need to control yourself.
She dropped down to the grass below their feet, and as Rufus sat down beside her his hand grazed her cheek slightly. It burned as though he had put a branding iron to it, and she put her hand to it, shocked at her body's response. There was something about this man that made her hot, hotter than even the July sun.
"Juliana," Rufus started again, speaking so low that she leaned forward, towards him like she was unable to stay away. "I have more feelings for you than I thought possible, and two months ago I did not even know you."
Juliana smiled. "I have found myself more distracted by your absence than the presence of anyone else since I last saw you," she said quietly, "and I am beginning to think that no one else will have such an effect on me, no matter how long I live."
She knew what was coming, knew before it even happened, knew that despite the fact that they were in public, with people able to walk up and down the path mere feet from them, knew that Rufus Lovell was about to kiss her. And she was glad; she wanted his kiss, wanted the feel of him close to her, wanted to feel his lips on hers.
Rufus had tried to stop himself but his heart refused to take no for an answer; the scent of Juliana Honeyfield was so intoxicating that there was nothing that he could to do to prevent himself from leaning forward and crushing her lips with his own. The intake of breath that she made was enough for him to pull her close, and if someone hadn't coughed as they passed then there was a very real chance that he would have completely lost control.
Not for the first time, Rufus and Juliana leapt apart at being caught.
"I certainly need to find better places to kiss you," murmured Rufus quietly, his hand still on Juliana's waist.
Juliana blushed, but the blush was accompanied by a smile. "Perhaps I should find somewhere better for us next time? You can leave the subterfuge up to me."
Rufus stared in amazement at this woman who was never afraid to speak her mind, and laughed as he shook his head. "Juliana you - there really is no one quite like you, is there?"
And here she could not help but smile. "I hope not. And if I am not very much mistaken, that is my father beckoning to us."
Rufus whirled round, and immediately released his hand from Juliana as he saw the Reverend Honeyfield waving at them across the park.
Juliana sighed. "I suppose that we must go back to him."
"Not before I ask you - I mean, if there is time, then I would like to - "
"We can't leave him shouting," said Juliana, rising to her feet and brushing off the grass from her gown. Then her mind caught up with her, and she stared down scarlet at Rufus. "What did you say?"
Rufus swallowed. Perhaps not here. Perhaps he could wait another day. Standing up, he stood closer to her than he was sure was wise, considering that her father's eyes were clearly on them.
"Juliana Honeyfield, I would greatly appreciate it if I could call on you tomorrow afternoon, and ask," and here he had to swallow again. "And ask you an important question."
Juliana stared up into the eyes of the man who she was going to spend the rest of her life with.
"Well?" Rufus was not expecting to be so nervous. "May I attend you tomorrow?"
"Juliana!" Her father's voice was now audible, so he must be getting closer. She had not realised that he was walking towards them.
"Juliana, what is your answer?" Rufus whispered, reaching out his hands almost unconsciously and clasping hers to his chest. "I must know."
"Yes."
A Michaelmas Wager Page 13