by Shana Galen
“Dancing is undignified.”
“Good.” Fitzhugh clapped his hands together. “Then that’s what you must do.”
“You’ve failed to consider one crucial point.”
“I doubt it.”
“Juliette won’t see me. I can hardly dance, propose, and—what was the other thing?”
“Apologize.”
“Right. I can hardly do any of those things if she won’t see me.”
“She doesn’t have to agree to see you. You must do this all publicly.”
“But she’s not going out in public.”
“It’s a good thing you have me, Pelham,” Fitzhugh said.
Will begged to differ.
“I know where she is going to be tomorrow night.”
“Where’s that?”
Fitzhugh smiled. “The perfect venue.”
***
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Juliette said once she, Lily, Fallon, and the Sinclairs were in the carriage on the way to Covent Garden.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Lily assured her. “You look ravishing.”
Juliette could not argue with that assessment. Fallon and Lily had spent all day fussing with her hair and gown. The three of them were dressed in flowing white silk covered with thousands of tiny spangles. Lily said if Juliette were to become one of The Three Diamonds again, she must look the part. And all three of them truly did look like sparkling diamonds.
Juliette had refrained from mentioning that she did not want to resume the charade of a glamorous courtesan, but since she did not know what she wanted to do instead, she said nothing. She thought the countess might have guessed her feelings. She’d caught Lady Sinclair watching her on several occasions, her expression curious, as though she wondered just what future Juliette was planning for herself.
Or perhaps she was waiting for Juliette to ask her advice. Juliette was not certain why she had not done so already. Perhaps because she already felt so indebted to the countess for all she had done for her.
Or perhaps because she feared she would burst into tears if she so much as thought about a future without Pelham. She didn’t want to cry on the countess’s shoulder any more than she had already done.
Juliette took a deep breath and tried to smile. Both Lily and Fallon wore concerned expressions, and they should be smiling and enjoying themselves. She had to admit she had never seen them look more beautiful. Lily had scattered spangles in her auburn hair, and she seemed to glitter from head to toe. She wore some of Lady Sinclair’s diamonds at her neck and in her ears and looked positively radiant.
Fallon was less ostentatious. Her dark hair was dressed simply and without decoration, save for a jeweled rose tucked behind her ear. The flash of red was exactly what Fallon needed, lest the white wash out her olive complexion.
Juliette had a similar flash of color in the form of an ice-blue ribbon about her neck. Dangling from the ribbon was a large square-cut diamond the countess had pressed into her hands. Juliette had stared in disbelief at the heavy jewel, and the countess had said, “Do not lose it, or Sinclair will have my head.”
“No, my lady,” Juliette answered.
“All four of you look beautiful,” the earl said now. “I’m a lucky man.” Indeed, the men of the ton would be excessively envious of the Earl of Sin, arriving with the three most celebrated courtesans in the country at his side. And yet, as he spoke, he patted the countess’s hand and looked only at her.
Juliette doubted he’d ever had eyes for any woman but her.
But he would dutifully play his part at the opera as the most debauched man in Britain. If he didn’t, he would have to answer to the countess.
They wound their way through the snarl of carriages also en route to Covent Garden, and after what seemed an eternity to Juliette, they arrived. Lily had already instructed her to make certain she was the last to exit the carriage. They all agreed it would heighten the suspense of those watching the arrivals.
And so when the carriage finally stopped and the footmen opened the door and lowered the steps, the earl was the first to descend, followed by his wife. She stood regally at his side while he held a hand out to Lily and helped her down. She took her place across from the countess, who did not look at her, and was then joined by Fallon. The earl made a show of bowing and kissing Fallon’s hand. And then he paused.
Inside the carriage, Juliette’s heart hammered. She knew he was pausing to build anticipation. The crowds would wonder who else occupied the carriage. They would speculate and conjecture, all the while staring at the magnificent, glittering gowns of two of The Three Diamonds.
And now Sinclair held his hand out again, and Juliette moved forward. She moved as if in a dream. She no longer felt like the Duchess of Dalliance, and this entire exercise seemed a ridiculous farce. But then the light caught the sparkle of her gown, and she heard the gasps of the crowd. She could not turn back now.
She took the earl’s gloved hand, and he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. With as much grace as she could muster, Juliette stepped out of the carriage and paused so the earl could kiss her cheek. It was a grandfatherly kiss as far as Juliette was concerned, but the ton would make of it what they would.
And then Lily and Fallon were on either side of her, linking arms, and the trio of dazzling women stepped behind the earl and the countess. Juliette was thankful for the support of her friends, and as they moved through the arched portico, she was able to relax slightly. After all, this was a night at the theater. She had always enjoyed Mozart, and what opera was more appropriate for them to attend than The Abduction from the Seraglio?
She took a deep breath and attempted a small smile at a few gentlemen she recognized in the crowd. And then she felt Lily stiffen, followed by Fallon.
This was new. Those two were always confident and poised.
“What is it?” she asked between the clenched teeth of her smile.
“Nothing,” Lily said. “Keep walking.”
“Fallon, what is it?”
“Just keep walking.”
“But why did you—?”
And then she saw him, and she knew why her friends had started. The Duke of Pelham, looking impossibly handsome in a vibrant blue tailcoat that matched the blue of his eyes, stood just inside the doors. He leaned negligently against the banister housing the steps that led to the boxes. His face was chiseled from granite, his cheeks and mouth sculpted by the finest master. His cravat was perfect, his trousers tight and unlined, and his boots shone. Only his hair showed any sign of rebellion. It was adorably tousled, and Juliette could not help but remember it looking so after a night of lovemaking.
His eyes were on her as she moved inextricably closer, and she felt the heat of his gaze burning through her. She did not know how her legs continued to propel her forward. Perhaps Lily and Fallon carried her.
And then she was past him, on the steps and ascending to the earl’s box.
The duke was behind her, and, once again, he had allowed her to leave him.
Twenty-four
She was so beautiful he almost believed he imagined her. How could anyone look so completely stunning? Seeing her was like some kind of wonderful dream—only he wasn’t dreaming. At least he didn’t think so.
Fitzhugh clapped him on the back, and he lurched forward. “Breathe, Pelham.”
No, he was not dreaming. Fitzhugh would make appearances only in one’s nightmares.
“You lost your chance. Everyone was watching the two of you. This was the perfect moment.”
It would have been perfect—if he could have spoken. But when he saw Juliette, his powers of speech seemed to desert him. How was he ever going to go through with this? He already felt the fool, and he hadn’t even spoken to her yet.
Fitzhugh narrowed hi
s eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve reconsidered.”
Would it be so bad to think this through a bit more?
Yes.
He had to act. The Dukes of Pelham had never been cowards. He would march to Sinclair’s box, tell Juliette he was in love with her… and all the other rubbish Fitzhugh had told him. And if she didn’t want him, that was that. He couldn’t make her accept him.
God, he hoped she still wanted him. How was he going to live without her? What if he just picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her back to his town house? It was a simple approach, not without appeal.
“Pelham?” Fitzhugh said.
“I’m going.” He straightened his shoulders.
“Here.” Fitzhugh handed him a flask. “Gin. It’ll give you blue courage.”
Will shook his head at Fitzhugh’s play on the nickname for gin—Blue Ruin—but he took a long swallow, winced, and shook his head again. It was now or never. He mounted the steps to the boxes, his legs feeling like a team of horses was pulling them in the other direction. But he persisted.
Juliette was worth this. She was worth anything.
Of course, when he reached the boxes, he realized he didn’t know which was Sinclair’s, but he’d eat his arm before he asked. Instead, he walked the corridor and waited until he saw a crowd of inane-looking men. At the end of the corridor, toward the front of the theater, he saw what he was looking for. He was tempted to punch the first man he muscled out of the way, but it would have been a waste of time—time he could be spending with Juliette.
“I say!” the man exclaimed.
“What! Oh, pardon me, Your Grace,” another said.
“It’s Pelham,” someone murmured.
Will moved through the group of men and stepped into Sinclair’s box. The earl had a splendid view of the stage and the theater. Pelham glanced about him, taking in the large stage hidden by a rich crimson drapery and ornamented by an elegantly paneled arch. On each side of the arch rose two Grecian-styled female figures represented in relief. As the boxes were elevated, he also had a good view of the elaborate ceiling of the theatre, painted to give the appearance of a cupola.
And then Pelham turned his attention to the box itself. Sinclair had a subscription to one of the best available. It was spacious and separated from its neighbor by gilt columns. Each box was illuminated by chandeliers of cut crystal suspended from the tops of pillars, and the chandelier’s glow provided the audience in the theater a splendid view. Will could all but feel the opera glasses trained on him. He wrenched his eyes from the audience in the theater to the occupants in the box. The earl and his countess were seated at the front of the box, and The Three Diamonds were arranged directly behind them. Juliette was between her two friends.
As Will stared at The Three Diamonds, shining under the diamond-cut crystal of the chandelier, something flickered in his mind. Impatient to speak to Juliette, he attempted to push it away, but it niggled.
Lucifer’s Diamonds were jewels, were they not? He looked again at the three courtesans. The Three Diamonds. What if Lucifer’s Diamonds were not diamonds at all but something else—something equally as valuable as diamonds, something rare, something sought after? What if he and Juliette had been looking for the wrong diamonds?
Will’s gaze flicked back to Juliette just as a man he didn’t know leaned over her chair, making her laugh. And then she saw Will, and her smile dropped.
“What is it?” the young man asked, turning to look at Will.
“Get out,” Will said.
“Ho, now. Who the bloody hell—?”
“It’s the Duke of Pelham, Gillivray. You’d better step aside,” the dark-haired courtesan said. She was frowning at Will. The redhead was giving him an encouraging smile, and Juliette was staring at him as though she thought him a ghost.
“Pelham,” the earl said, standing. “I don’t recall inviting you to my box.”
Beside him, the countess raised her eyebrows but remained silent.
“I need a word with Juliette,” Will told the earl.
“Juliette?” the earl asked her.
“I… I don’t think we have anything further to say to each other,” she said.
Will’s heart clenched hard in his chest. He had known this would not be easy, but he had not expected such coldness from her. Her eyes were frosty.
“I have something to say to you,” Will persisted. “I—” No sense in doing things halfway now. He held his hand out to her. “Stand up.”
“I’m perfectly happy seated where I am.”
Will resisted the urge to haul her out of her chair. “Please,” he said. Her eyes widened. She did not take his hand, but she stood. He moved beside her as her friends pushed their chairs aside. He and Juliette were plainly visible to the entire theater now. Was it only his imagination, or had everyone grown quiet?
“I want to tell you something. You needn’t say anything back.” Unless you want to, he thought. “I owe you an apology, Juliette. I owe you several.” He took her hand. Her eyes were wide as saucers. “Madam, I am deeply sorry for any hurt I may have caused you. I am sorry for not defending you when others slandered you. I am sorry for my words at the prince’s recent ball, and I deeply regret not having treated you in the manner you deserve. You are a lady in every sense of the word, and I vow I will never again treat you as anything other than a lady.”
Juliette shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you saying this?”
He knelt on one knee, still holding her hand. “Because I love you, Juliette. I think I fell in love with you almost the first moment I saw you. And since then my love has grown. You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met. You have made me a better man. I would be honored if you would become my wife, my duchess.”
The crowd gasped, and Will did not imagine it this time. But he didn’t care anymore. He cared only for Juliette. She was staring at him, her mouth working, and tears sparkling in her eyes.
“But I’m a courtesan. I can’t be your duchess.”
“Juliette, you are my love. No other woman could ever be my duchess. Please do not make me beg. I will, if that is what you require. God knows I deserve that and more.”
“Will—” She put her hand over her mouth. Will’s heart leaped. She had called him by the name she’d given him. He wanted to believe it was a good sign. But she hadn’t answered him yet.
“Tell him yes, my dear,” the countess said.
Juliette nodded, her hand still over her mouth.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, standing. “I believe I owe you a dance.”
Her brow furrowed. “A dance?” Her voice was thick with emotion. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
“There’s no music.”
Will looked down at the stage and the orchestra seated in the pit before it. “Conductor, now would be an opportune time.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The conductor raised his baton, and the orchestra began playing a waltz. Juliette gasped.
“Did you plan this?”
Will held out his hand. “I would be honored if you would dance with me.”
“I… I… there’s no room.”
At that, the countess rose from her chair, clapped her hands, and gave orders for the men standing about to remove the chairs. Then she joined the earl and the two remaining Diamonds in the entrance as Will put his arms around Juliette and began to lead her in a slow waltz.
***
Juliette’s head was spinning. She felt as though she were in a dream. She was back in Will’s arms, and he loved her. He’d actually told her he loved her in front of everyone. He hated public displays of emotion. But now he was holding her, dancing with her, in front of the entire ton. She was used to having all eyes upon her, but she
knew Will must hate it.
But he did it for her.
Because he loved her. He loved her! She wanted to shout it, to jump up and down, to twirl and twirl and twirl until she fell from light-headedness. Instead, she held Will tightly and willed this dream never to end.
“What are you thinking about, my love?” Will whispered in her ear.
She shivered. “How very happy I am. You have made me so incredibly happy.” She leaned back, looked into his eyes. “Do you really love me?”
He kissed her mouth softly. “With all my heart.”
“But all of this.” She waved a hand at the audience and the theater. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I believe I did.” He glanced at the entrance to the box, and she spotted a tall, dark man she didn’t know. He nodded at the two of them and melted into the crowd. “I wanted to show you how much I’ve changed. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”
“Thank you.” She put her forehead on his shoulder and smelled the clean scent of mint. His arms around her were warm and soft. She glanced up. “Do you know what I’m thinking about now?”
He raised a brow. “I might be able to guess.”
“Take me home, Will. I want you to hold me, skin on skin.”
He groaned softly. “I would like nothing better.”
She stopped dancing and took his hand. “Then let’s go.”
“I can’t. We can’t.”
She felt her happiness hitch and her dream begin to dissipate. How had she known this was too good to last? “Is there something wrong?”
“No. But I’ve decided we should wait.”
“Wait? For what?”
“Until we’re married.”
She blinked. Had she heard him correctly? “But we have already…” She made a circling gesture with her hand. “There’s no need to wait.”
He tipped her chin up, kissed her lips chastely. “It’s a sign of respect for my future wife. I want our wedding night to be special.”
Tears rose to her eyes again, stinging the lids sharply.
“Is that all right?” he asked, his voice full of concern.