An Independent Woman

by Candace Camp

  Nicholas turned his flat dark gaze on the older woman. “It is gratifying that you are so concerned about Miss Holcott’s good name, madam, but I assure you, it is perfectly acceptable. It is an open carriage. And quite small. I fear only two people are able to ride in it at a time, which is the reason that my invitation was specifically to Juliana.”

  Mrs. Thrall could think of no reply, but simply stood, looking at him. Nicholas seized the opportunity to turn and offer Juliana his arm. Juliana hurried forward and tucked her hand through his. She was not about to dawdle and give her employer time to recover her wits and forbid her to go.

  Nicholas was apparently of the same mind as she, for he swept her down the hall and out the front door at a fast clip, scarcely giving Juliana even a moment to appreciate the gleaming new yellow curricle before he handed her up into it. Taking the reins from his groom, who had been walking the horses to keep them warm while he was inside, Nicholas climbed up onto the seat next to Juliana.

  “Abominable woman!” he exclaimed, slapping the reins to set the horses in motion.

  Juliana let out a laugh of delight at having eluded Mrs. Thrall’s schemes. There would be the devil to pay when she got back, no doubt, but for the moment, she did not care. It was too wonderful to be out with Nicholas, free for the next hour, perched in a vehicle that was the height of fashion, and from which she had a wonderful view of all the hustle and bustle of London. Juliana set her hat firmly on her head, tied the ribbon beneath her chin and looked over at Nicholas with a smile.

  Nicholas grinned back. “How the devil did you wind up with those two, anyway?”

  Juliana shrugged. “It isn’t always easy to find a position as a companion. People usually want someone older than I am and more…well…”

  “Unattractive?” Nicholas hazarded a guess.

  Juliana cast him a sideways glance, smiling. “Why, thank you, sir.” Was she actually flirting with Nicholas? Somehow she could not bring herself to care about that, either. “But I was about to say ‘obsequious.’”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “I can see that you have not changed. I cannot picture you at someone else’s beck and call. How did you ever seize upon the idea of being a companion?”

  “It seemed a natural avenue, after living with Seraphina and your aunt Lilith all those years,” Juliana replied. “They sent me to finishing school with Seraphina.” She remembered her mother’s pleasure at Juliana’s being given the opportunity to go to a good school for girls, something they obviously could never have afforded. But she, of course, had known the reason behind Trenton and Lilith’s apparent generosity.

  “They needed someone to keep an eye on Seraphina and make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. Which was not an easy task, I can assure you. Seraphina was just as flighty and silly a young woman as she was as a child. And then, after we finished, Seraphina had a tour of the continent. The war was over by then. So, again, I went along to help, and when that was over, I saw that I was amply prepared to be a companion. I knew all about fetching and carrying, and listening to boring conversation and flattering someone.”

  “Did Aunt Lilith turn you out?” he asked, a dangerous note in his voice.

  “Oh, no. I could have stayed. I didn’t flatter myself that Aunt Lilith liked me, but she would have liked my help in getting Seraphina through her debut, and she would not have wanted the gossip about her throwing a poor young girl upon the world. But I could not stand living in that prison any longer, and with my mother gone, there was really no reason to. Lilith was just as happy that I decided to leave, I think. If I had stayed, she would have had to bring me out, as well, at least in some small fashion, and that would have galled her.”

  Juliana did not add that Crandall had begun to change his tactics when she grew up, from pulling her hair and playing mean tricks on her to trying to corner her in the library and sneak a kiss, or run a caressing hand over her body. His pursuit had been one of the major reasons that she had been determined to leave Lychwood Hall. Aunt Lilith, she thought, suspected that something was going on, but Lilith had been convinced that the situation was the other way around, even accusing Juliana on one occasion of trying to ensnare her son.

  “So Aunt Lilith wrote a letter of recommendation for me, and I set out on my own. It took a little while, but then someone hired me to take care of his aging mother.” She also did not add that that bit of employment had ended when the man who had hired her showed up at the door of her bedroom one night, drunk and leering and making fumbling advances to her. “After a time I met Mrs. Simmons, and it was actually quite pleasant after that.”

  Nicholas frowned. “I dislike your being at that Thrall woman’s beck and call.”

  “Nor do I like it,” Juliana agreed candidly. “However, it is a price that I am willing to pay for my freedom. At least this is a straightforward business transaction. I am not dependent on anyone’s charity.”

  Nicholas had maneuvered through the streets as they talked, and they had reached the sylvan paths of Hyde Park, where there was far less traffic, and he could relax and turn his attention away from controlling the horses. He looked over at Juliana.

  It was still a little something of a surprise to him each time he looked at her. He had known she would be older, of course, though he had been able to recognize the child he had known in her face. But still, somehow, it was disconcerting to see the woman she had become, the sweetly familiar face of his childhood turned into a beauty.

  Hers was not the pale, insipid beauty of one such as the Thrall girl, whom Nicholas found crushingly boring. Juliana’s beauty lay not just in her thick dark-brown hair, sternly constrained in a firm knot at the base of her neck, although it was the sort of hair that made a man’s fingers itch to pull out her pins and release it in a luxuriant tumble around her shoulders. Nor was it only the well-modeled features of her face. Hers was a beauty that shone out of her lively gray eyes and blossomed in the smile that curved her lips, a loveliness born of strength and personality, and the multitude of small things that made Juliana uniquely herself.

  He knew her, and yet he did not know her, and he found the combination compelling. Gazing at her now, Nicholas was aware of a sudden desire to lean over and kiss that softly curving mouth, to taste what he was sure would be the piquant sweetness of her lips.

  His eyes darkened, straying to her mouth, and it was only with some inner firmness that he was able to pull his gaze away. He stared straight ahead above his horses’ heads for a few moments, pondering the instant of desire that had just flashed through him. This was not the sort of feeling he should be having about Juliana, he told himself.

  She was the beloved companion of his childhood, the girl who had provided the only warmth he had known after his parents’ deaths. He had been eager to find her when he returned to England, but it had been the eagerness of an old close friend…of a brother, say. He loved her, he thought, as much as he found himself able to love anyone, but it was a small, pure, uncomplicated love, a deep fondness for a childhood memory.

  Yet here Juliana was, not at all a memory, looking very much like a desirable woman, and the feeling that had just speared through him was not years-old devotion but the swift lust of a man for a woman.

  The feeling shook him. It seemed perverse to experience this sort of sensation about someone almost a sister to him. Had any other man expressed feeling such a thing for her, he would have taught him a quick, brutal lesson.

  This unexpected desire was certainly not something upon which he could act. Juliana trusted him; he could never take advantage of her, even in the smallest way. There were many, he knew, who considered him unscrupulous, even wicked, and he admitted that he was not a good man. But he would never do something so dastardly as to take advantage of Juliana’s kind feelings for him.

  Moreover, aside from the importance of not violating Juliana’s trust in him, there was the matter of her reputation. She was a lady, and her reputation must be above reproach. It was even more i
mperative that nothing besmirch her name, given that she had to make her own way in the world. It was far too easy for even unproved black marks to attach to the reputation of a woman who had no family to protect her and no high name to bolster hers. He could and would, of course, defend her name, but it was a sad truth that merely the defense of a man of his uncertain reputation would probably only damage her name further.

  Nicholas knew, therefore, that he could not even pay her particular attention without causing scandalous talk about her. He should not call on her too often nor take her out on the dance floor more than every once in a while. It would have been more politic, he was sure, to have taken the annoying Thrall chit with them today in a larger vehicle. It would have deflected attention from Juliana onto Clementine, and he frankly had little regard for whether tongues wagged about that girl. However, he had selfishly wanted Juliana all to himself, at least this once.

  There were far too many looks being cast in their direction from the carriages and riders they passed, and Nicholas knew that the gossip circuit would soon be buzzing about the woman with whom Lord Barre had been seen in the Park. He would have to refrain from going out riding with Juliana again for a week or two, and it would be wise not to even call on her again for a few days. Nicholas despised having to kowtow to such arbitrary constraints, but he could not jeopardize Juliana’s reputation.

  Juliana, looking up at Nicholas, had seen the subtle change in his face, the way his eyes flickered involuntarily to her lips. Her breath had caught in her throat, and her stomach had tightened. He was about to kiss her, she had thought.

  Then he had looked abruptly away. She relaxed, not quite sure whether she felt relief or disappointment. Indeed, she was not quite certain anything at all had happened. Had she mistaken the look in his eyes?

  Surely she was not wrong. There had been a spark, an infinitesimal tightening of his face, and something inside her had responded. She could not deny that response—eager, yet also a trifle wary, a tingle of warmth that moved through her with the speed of lightning. It had all been faster, more subtle, than thought. Instinctive, but beyond doubt.

  She cast another sideways glance up at Nicholas. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw set. She wondered what he thought, what he felt. Had he regretted that momentary impulse? With a certain disappointment, she realized that he probably had. Why else would he have turned away so abruptly?

  It was a lowering thought. If he had felt a flash of masculine interest in her, he had clearly and immediately regretted it. He was right, of course. Even though they had once been close, she was clearly someone whom he would not think of courting and marrying. The difference in their stations in life was now vast. All she could hope for was friendship from him, and desire would only hinder that.

  He had been correct, and if it wounded her pride a little, that was simply something she would have to get over. It wasn’t, she reminded herself, as if she had wanted him to kiss her. He was, after all, virtually a stranger to her after all these years. And she was much too mature and practical now to give weight to the romantic adolescent dreams she had had about him. It did not matter that she had felt some sort of reaction when she thought he was about to kiss her, that there had been a flash of warmth in her midsection and a sudden tingling awareness of seemingly every inch of her skin. Why, she was not entirely sure whether what she had felt had been eagerness or fear.

  And whatever she might have felt, she was, after all, the master of herself and her emotions. A kiss would have been highly improper, and she was glad—yes, glad—that Nicholas had turned away without giving in to his impulse.

  Still, she could not help but be very aware of Nicholas now—of his warmth, his size, his very presence beside her on their high perch. She looked up at his face, sharp in profile, his skin taut across the slicing arc of his cheekbones, the only softening feature the thick brush of his lashes.

  He must have felt her gaze upon him, for he turned his head toward her. Juliana glanced quickly away, a blush rising in her cheeks at having been caught staring at him. She would hate for him to think that she was overly bold.

  Her eyes strayed to his hands, large and firm on the reins, encased in supple kid driving gloves. She remembered the touch of his hand on her waist as they danced, warm and strong. There was something about the memory of his touch that made her a trifle breathless.

  A breeze caressed her flushed cheeks and lifted a few stray tendrils of her hair. She felt as if her skin was more sensitive than normal, more alive to the warmth of the sun or the brush of air against it.

  Juliana clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them. These sorts of thoughts would never do, she told herself. And Nicholas would think her a tongue-tied dolt, the way she was sitting here, saying nothing.

  They passed an open landaulet, occupied by two middle-aged ladies who eyed them sharply. Juliana felt sure that by this evening, the word would be all over fashionable society that Lord Barre had driven out in the Park this morning with an unknown girl—and one of such plain dress and demeanor, too.

  “They will be gossiping about you, you know,” she told him. “It will cause great speculation that you are with a female whom none of them recognize.”

  Nicholas shrugged carelessly. “They always gossip about me. Or, at least, that is what people tell me. The good thing about it is that I never hear it.” He glanced at her. “Will it bother you?”

  She smiled at him. “Oh, no. As I said, they won’t know who I am. And even if they did…as you said, I won’t hear it. What worries me more is what Mrs. Thrall will say when I return.”

  “Perhaps I should come in with you. A few minutes spent with that tedious girl might improve her mood.”

  “No, I shan’t ask you to subject yourself to that.” Juliana smiled. “I am sure that you will find yourself plagued by having to talk to her far more times than you will wish—that is, I mean, if you intend to call at the house again.” She stumbled to a halt, realizing that all unintentionally she had put herself forward, assuming that he intended to continue his visits with her. “I’m sorry. I have put you in an awkward position. Aunt Lilith always told me I was far too blunt in my speech.”

  “Nonsense. I find plain speaking refreshing. Of course I intend to call upon you again…even if it does mean having to put up with the Thrall women.”

  “Do not come too often,” Juliana warned him.

  He lifted his brows, amusement touching his dark eyes. “Do you find my presence so tedious?”

  “No.” Juliana chuckled. “Of course not. But Mrs. Thrall and Clementine will be convinced that you are madly in love with her if you call very often.”

  “Perish the thought,” he responded. “Although…mayhap I could use her as a ruse. That way ’twould do no harm to your reputation if I called upon you often.”

  Juliana was aware of a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Nicholas pretending to court Clementine. “Yes, but then you would be expected to propose to Clementine or else be considered a cad.”

  He shrugged. “I have been considered far worse things. Indeed, I have done far worse things.”

  “If you think that, then you have not spent day after day in conversation with Clementine.”

  Nicholas laughed. “Ah, Juliana, I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you have not grown up to be dull.”

  Juliana could not help but smile. “And I am glad to be around someone with whom I need not rein in my tongue.”

  “I suspect that in the Thrall family, much of what you say is not even understood.”

  “No, Clementine has a younger sister who is quite bright. Her name is Fiona, and I cannot imagine how she came to be in that family.”

  “Is there a Mr. Thrall?”

  “Oh, yes, but he had the good sense to remain in Yorkshire during Clementine’s Season.”

  “Then perhaps that is where this Fiona gets her intelligence.”

  “You are probably right.”

  They continued to chat in
this light way as they made their way through the Park. They passed a number of other people, some in vehicles, others on horseback. It was the fashionable thing to ride in the morning—though how so many of them managed to be up by this hour after the late nights at various parties, Juliana was not sure. Some of the people nodded to Nicholas or spoke to them. Others clearly hoped to catch his eye and perhaps receive a nod from him.

  “A number of people seem to want to know you,” Juliana remarked.

  “It is remarkable how popular a title makes one,” Nicholas retorted.

  “Oh, it takes more than a title,” Juliana said. “Money helps.”

  Again his grin flashed, softening the hard lines of his face. Neither of them was aware of how others’ interest in Juliana’s identity was heightened by the look he turned toward her.

  “Cynic,” Nicholas told her. “Don’t you know that you are supposed to protest that it is my wonderful qualities that others admire?”

  “It has been my experience that most people never bothered to look for your wonderful qualities,” Juliana answered truthfully. “I am sure none of these people are aware of them, either.”

  “Indeed, I think you were always my only champion.”

  “Not much of one, I’m afraid. I never managed to save you from punishment, as I recall.”

  He shrugged carelessly. “No one could have, much less a nine- or ten-year-old girl. My fate was sealed the day my father and mother died.”

  “Your grandfather could have taken you in,” Juliana pointed out. “He should have taken an interest in you, at least.”

  “His only interest was in his various aches and pains, real or otherwise. There may have been some estrangement between him and my father. I don’t remember visiting him or his coming to us before my parents died. The first time I remember seeing him was at my parents’ funeral, and then he turned me over to Uncle Trenton. And from my uncle’s reports of me, I feel sure he felt little desire to see me.”

  “Twas no excuse,” Juliana maintained stoutly.