by Anna Macy
Understanding that the moment had passed, William pulled away, stepping back from her and letting his lingering hand fall from her waist. Without a word or a second look, he turned and walked back out of the room, leaving Juliet standing there, breathless and more than a little disorientated.
The first part of the night passed in a blur after that moment. Juliet’s head was crammed full of names, titles, locations of all the different people who had shown up for Lakeview’s summer finale. Juliet felt their curious eyes on her, the whispers that followed. She was the daughter of an Earl. For her title alone, she would’ve drawn interest. But now, with rumors of her impending union with a Marquess, there would be no other topic on many guest’s lips.
Once when she met William’s eyes across the extensive buffet, those silver eyes had smiled at her, full of joy at seeing her enjoyment. She knew that this winter wouldn’t be the same, not with these friends by her side or this man in her life.
Maybe she’d only met William a few days ago, but every moment with him left her begging for the next. Now Juliet didn’t want to let him go.
During a quiet set, she had noticed her mother waltzing around the ballroom in her stepfather's arms, a brilliant blue and green dress flowing around her slim body like waves of the ocean.
For a moment, Juliet truly wished her happiness; the look on her face when she stared into Marshall’s did seem authentically happy. Above all, Juliet wanted happiness for her mother. She simply wished she hadn't found it in this young, title-hungry peacock. The opposite of everything her father had been.
She pushed that thought from her mind, reminding herself that she was a safe distance from them tonight. Juliet doubted her mother would approach her about William or Robert again.
As the music changed, Juliet suddenly realized she had promised this next dance to a friend of the Duke’s she had just met, Lord Henry Faber. He was a long-time business associate of the Dukes, whom she had only met at the beginning of the night.
Hurrying down the dance floor, Juliet immediately spotted him, his bright cobalt evening coat making him stand out in the crowd. He, too, had been looking for her, eagerly waving as she approached, her yellow dress blazing a golden path through the deepening crowd.
“Lady Juliet,” Lord Faber murmured, bowing dramatically low over her hand. Juliet stood tall, letting the man complete the motion, even as she felt the prickling of stares at her back. She was the daughter of an Earl, and she was allowed to dance with whomever she’d like.
“Lord Faber,” Juliet said, speaking over the musicians who were picking up the pace for the next dance, a lively waltz. She quickly scanned the vicinity but didn’t see William.
“May I have this dance?” Lord Faber asked, smiling widely at her before taking her waist and hand in his own and drawing them down the final steps to Lakeview’s dance floor.
There he turned to her, and she only had a moment to get a good look at the man before he began to steer them around the room. He was a middle-aged man, a bachelor, she had discovered, and his blonde and red mixed hair was a bit thin on top but very full over his puffy lips where a thick mustache grew.
He was a seeming jovial person, keeping up a steady stream of chatter while Juliet focused very hard on keeping her body tight and a bit off from his body. She didn’t want to accidentally brush against this rather prominent belly as it dropped between them.
Juliet surprised herself by having a lovely time. Faber was a great dancer, his conversation pleasant, teasing her about the sheer number of flowers in the room, and his hands stayed precisely where they belonged. None of those things had gone according to plan in her first foray into society last winter, so these successes alone left Juliet feeling giddy and pleased.
Feeling a powerful gaze pull on her body, Juliet searched the crowd. There, off to one side, William stood, surrounded by a small group of men who were all sipping champagne and conversing in low tones. He, on the other hand, had assumed his favorite position as a resident marble statue, and his handsome face seemed frozen in place even as his eyes were glued to her frame.
“Oh, Lady Juliet,” Lord Faber whispered after seeing the direction of her looks, “Never mind the Marquess of Mansfield Park, that man has a stare that could turn us all to ice.” He shivered dramatically, squeezing the hand that held her, drawing her attention back to the dance.
Juliet brought her attention back to the man she was dancing with. She wondered if standing up straight, whether she would be taller than him, and it, or the champagne consumed earlier, sparked a bubble of laughter in her.
Juliet thought he had to have been a blonde in his youth, seeing as his thick mustache was still a bushy reddish blonde. It quivered as he subtly tightened his hold on her, thinking that her giggle must’ve been a girlish flirtation.
Cocking her head to the side, she pinned him with a teasing look, letting her eyes flash at him, “My apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to lose my focus.”
“Not at all, you are a lovely dancer. I just wanted to warn you against that one,” Lord Faber said, carrying them swiftly across the blue and white marbled floors. Juliet felt her stomach sink. She knew precisely what man Lord Faber was talking about.
“What do you mean?” Juliet said, her voice barely audible amongst the thick noise of the audience.
“I just mean to say that Lord William is known to be quite the ladies’ man. Or he would be if he didn’t just string women along. You should have seen the trail of ladies left wilting in his wake the past few years,” Lord Faber said, anger and what Juliet thought might be a bit of jealousy seeping into the tone of his voice.
Juliet involuntarily loosened her hold on his sweaty hand, finding more space between the two of them. The song suddenly felt too long, and Juliet was ready for it to be over.
Lord Faber noticed and looked back at her. His face held an expression of pity, or perhaps disappointment as he pursed his lips, mustache twitching as he did.
He leaned in to whisper, “It’s okay, Lady Juliet, your father, has already spoken to me about the impossibility of your current situation.” Her stomach clenched. What could he be talking about, she frantically thought.
Lord Faber smiled at her, gripping her hand harder again. “I’m sure everything will work out advantageously for both of us.”
“Advantageous? Us?” Juliet felt dizzy. The brightly lit room blurred as she tried to absorb his words. Especially that word, advantageous. It seemed to haunt her, floating through her mind as she stared at her dance partner in horror. Lord Faber was blissfully unaware of her mood change and continued to spin her gently across the floors.
Juliet felt more and more nauseous with every step. She halted, stomach rolling, trying to get her wits about her. Pulling her hand from his sweaty one to press it against her thumping heart, Juliet now frantically looked for William, fear making her mind race. But it was Lord Faber that was gripping her waist, his scrunched face looking into hers, worried and flushed from their dance. She felt herself sway.
Thankfully, within a moment, she felt familiar firm, strong arms close around her waist, the ones she had been looking for. And the voice she wanted to hear most in the world filled her ears. Soothing. Comforting.
“It’s okay, Faber, I’ve got her,” William uttered, his legs never stopping as he quickly helped her off the dance floor and through the crowd of people beyond. Her legs seemed to follow his lead, but her mind still swirled in fear and confusion. Within seconds, they burst into the back balcony, the autumn air washing over Juliet liked waves on the shore. Filling her lungs, she slowly found her bearings.
When she was able to focus again, she realized they were standing at the balcony's edge. The fresh air calmed her racing heart and mind, almost as much as the gentle hand William kept at her back. Feeling self-conscious, Juliet touched her hair, her dress, her chest before looking up into William’s stony face, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she tried to figure out what to say.
“I’m sorr
y,” was all she could think of to say aloud. Had she just fainted on the dance floor in the arms of the Duke’s neighbor? It was something governesses had been warning against for decades. With a wretch, she realized that somehow William had made his way across the dance floor to capture her in his arms before she crashed onto the marble tile. Instantly saving her and Lord Faber from an incredible embarrassment.
“And thank you,” she finished, dropping her voice low as she tried her best to remedy the impossible situation she had put the two of them in again. Gratitude for his rescue filled her person as she leaned against the balcony wall, her yellow dress a dull gold in the firelight of the porch.
William moved slowly, his brows low over concerned, dark eyes, so that the other pairs out enjoying the fresh air couldn’t see her. One large, calloused hand warmly tipped her chin up to his appraisal.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Are you okay?” he said, his voice rich and concerned. Shaking her head, she felt the tears that she hated threatening to come spilling down her cheeks.
His hand tightened, but as they were in clear view of everyone else, he restrained himself from touching her anywhere else.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, positioning his body between her and the curious eyes that gazed out from the other side of the balcony. William’s trademark serious expression fading into one of concern. “Tell me what happened, Juliet.”
Juliet tried to breathe in, but one traitorous tear slowly slid down her cheek where William’s thumb tenderly brushed it aside.
“Marshall is not going to approve of your offer. That’s why he hadn’t reached out yet,” she finally choked out, William’s face growing darker at every word, “Lord Faber claims that they’ve already spoken about how advantageous the marriage will be. But I know he must mean Marshall; there is no way Lord Faber has anything to offer me. Before the season, Marshall had threatened to set me up with some of his associates this spring, but I never believed it would happen. How can he do that? Especially now.”
Juliet knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop, her body shivering slightly.
“You’re sure that’s what he meant? Do you remember the words exactly?” William questioned darkly.
When Juliet nodded, he cursed loudly enough to disturb at least one of the couples alongside them. Juliet would have laughed had she not been replaying the conversation over again in her mind.
“I’m sure. He said that I should be wary of you too,” Juliet swallowed hard, “Lord Faber said that you were a womanizer. I don’t understand.” She looked up into his face, clouded with anger. William snorted at her words.
“Wary, yes, maybe. Womanizer, not particularly.” William tilted her chin up again, “Frankly, you ladies terrify me. Hence the brooding.”
Juliet gave him a watery laugh. William smirked at her, but she could tell that his thoughts were off, galloping a hundred miles an hour away from here. There was quiet as Juliet leaned quietly into William's hand, waiting for him to sort out his path forward.
Finally, those magnificent eyes settled back on hers, serious, bold, and begging. “Tell me one more time. What did he say?”
Juliet straightened on the wall, taking a deep breath, “He said, Marshall had spoken to him about my situation,” William sighed as she continued to relay the conversation, “And that he knew he would find a way that it would work out for both of us.”
“Juliet, do you-,” William seemed to pause, clear his throat even as Juliet’s heart skipped a beat at his words. She would never have expected a real proposal from this man, but again, this was not the usual situation in any way or type, “Do you believe your stepfather would pledge you to this man? Even against your will.”
Blinking, Juliet looked up at him. “Of course, he would. He is a monster,” her anger at the man who had destroyed Greystone shining through her words.
“And you don’t want that?” William’s voice was soft.
Juliet raised her eyebrows, “Am I the one who just almost fainted, or was that you? Of course, I don’t want that. How can I make that any clearer?”
Suddenly and without any fear of consequence, William pulled her tight to his body. She could feel his heartbeat rhythmically pounding beneath her cheek. Turning to push her face into his body, she felt the pace rapidly picking up as she curled into his warmth.
Juliet sighed deeply, loving the slow burn that seemed to grow from his body to hers, leaving a series of tingles rushing down her spine. Ignoring the stares of the other guests, William gently set her from himself with a soft laugh.
“This has been some finale.”
Juliet groaned, sagging against his hands, “Don’t remind me. I’m never going to another ball again.”
“Someday, I would like to ask you to dance, at a ball, like a real gentleman. One that you deserve,” William said, his fingers sliding down her cheek in a soft caress, “But I’m afraid that tonight won’t be that night.” He swallowed, his face looking sharp and pained in the shadowy firelight of the outdoor torches.
“I may have an idea why Marshall and Faber are in business. I don’t think that we are getting the full story.” William murmured thoughtfully, his thumb running over the back of her hand as he spoke.
“I have to go now,” he said, “But please don’t worry, we will see each other soon.” Juliet felt his gentle kiss across her forehead. In a whisper of fabric and moonlight, William had disappeared off the balcony and out of her sight.
She stayed where she was, heart racing, but her hands were steady as she gripped the edge of the banister. The man could make an exit, but she wished that he would stop and try a simple goodbye at some point.
It was evident that Marshall had other plans for her future, but she was tired of playing by another man’s rules. And based on what William had said, he had an idea, and she wanted, no, she needed to stay faithful to his ability to come through with it.
She waited for what felt like forever before walking back inside, her chin up, her eyes level. To her amusement, very few people seemed to have even noticed her disappearance. Even Lord Faber, whose eyes immediately crawled over her form, kept his distance as she sought Marian.
She found her sitting in a plush out cove in the main hall, seated beside the Duke, who had a champagne glass in each hand and who was finishing up an entertaining story, based on the laughter all around his small group of observers.
“Juliet!” the Duke cried out, waving one champagne in greeting, “Ah, the lovely Juliet, come here, please.” The small crowd parted and let her in; appreciative glances from the gentlemen there stroked her ego a tiny bit but did nothing to detract her from her mission.
She curtsied low to the Duke, murmuring her greetings as he smiled and set one glass of champagne down. He patted the seat next to him with his white-gloved hand. Instantly Marian hurried down, and the crowd seemed to disperse.
Looking at her seriously as she sat beside him, the Duke settled himself on his cushioned side of the settee. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles, sighing as his warm blue eyes looked into hers.
“It is such a pleasure to get to know you, my dear. I worked for your father for several years before his untimely death,” the Duke spoke quietly, his unfocused eyes staring off somewhere behind Juliet’s shoulder. “Such a tragic thing, his death,” his voice was tremulous, almost breaking over the words, “There are many, many days I wish that I had been with him that day, as I had planned.”
Juliet’s head shot up, catching the Duke’s unfocused gaze; she could feel her body thrumming with surprise.
“You were supposed to be with my father that day?” Juliet said, her teeth clamped shut, her eyes looking from side to side. But the only person paying any attention was Marian, and she was mostly out of hearing range anyway.
“Yes, we were late at court in London, testifying about some unhappy business with a local trading company. Samuel had begged for the use of one of my carriages to get home early,” the Duke leaned into
Juliet, a soft smile on his creased face, “He was badly missing his young daughter and wife and wanted to be home as soon as he could.”
The elderly man settled back, tapping his toe once on the floor as he mulled his thoughts over. Juliet felt like she couldn’t breathe, waiting on his next words, desperate to hear anything he might have to say.
“He was so enamored with you, I wish I could find the words to describe it,” the Duke said, his voice strained and full of emotion. Juliet herself was having problems speaking at this point, but she reached out to grip his slender forearm, squeezing gently.
“Thank you,” she whispered, so grateful to any piece of her father’s life that this man could fill in for her.
“It was my honor, Lady Juliet,” the older man’s eyes cleared, and the eyes that he fixed her with were sharp with the wit and intelligence born of a lifetime as an aristocratic businessman. “If you ever need anything, you only need to ask. I owe your father more than I can ever repay.”