‘That isn’t what I said.’
No, but he had certainly implied it! How dared he?
‘I shall thank you to keep your opinions to yourself! I do not wish to discuss my own personal business with you!’
He threw her a look filled with challenge. ‘And yet you just have.’
‘That was a mistake. It will not happen again.’
Juliana had had enough. Without a word of goodbye, she turned and strode away. She swept regally across the taproom, head held high, then collided inelegantly with the serving girl, who almost dropped her basket. Juliana rocked on her heels and put a hand out to touch the table in order to prevent herself from falling. Lord, what a time to be clumsy!
She could feel his eyes on her and knew he was laughing. This was fast turning into one of the worst days of her life. She mumbled an apology to the girl and scuttled out of the room as fast as she could.
* * *
Harry stood, filled with agitation. Absent-mindedly informing the serving girl that, no, he did not require another beer, he began to pace around the taproom. Damn Miss Milford! She had made him lose his temper and he had spoken hastily. He, who prided himself on his self-control.
It had been hard-earned, this ability to detach himself from situations so he could always act coolly and rationally. It had taken years of relentless practice and self-discipline. Anger—like fear—was simply not permitted in his gut. He knew the risks of too much emotion. These days, it was almost impossible for an insolent private or an untidy lieutenant to cause him to bristle. He paused. Until today.
He had been aware of his own frustration at being forced to return to England. He had not, however, expected his own temper to be so damn short!
Provocation. That was his defence. The fiery Miss Milford was altogether too insolent and fearless with her words and manner. The disdain in her eyes still irked him now. Such insubordination would not be tolerated for a minute in the army. Men had been flogged for less! And for more...
He checked himself. Insubordination? Had he somehow expected her to obey him, to take his commands as though he were her senior officer? He sighed ruefully. Yes, he had. Because he was a man and she was a young woman, he had expected her to defer to him and had been shocked when she hadn’t. He also, he realised, felt strangely protective of her. His instincts told him Mrs Milford was heavily reliant on her daughter and that, at times, this was something of a heavy burden for the young woman to bear. Not that she was helpless! Along with foolish amounts of courage, her evident wit and intelligence had been clearly displayed.
He thought he’d had her at a standstill when she realised she would need someone to fetch the doctor, but she had outwitted him by asking Evans. Strangely, the thought gave him a sense of satisfaction, not dissimilar to finding an opponent who could genuinely challenge him in chess. A worthy foe, then.
The fact that she also happened to be one of the most stunning women he’d ever met had not escaped his attention, either. Even now, he could picture her perfectly clearly in his mind’s eye. A beautiful opponent, and one who had stirred his emotions, and his body, as much as his mind.
She had challenged him and bested him, but he was not without small victories either. She would be forced to dine with them tonight, against her inclination. He wondered if he could charm her.
He reflected again on their battle of wits. Damn it! She had made him say unforgivable things. He recalled her face as he had accused her of not caring for her mother’s comfort. Beneath the anger, she had looked stricken. Harry squirmed uncomfortably. How could he possibly understand her motivations for behaving as she did? He should not have accused her so. Now, how was he to atone for it?
Chapter Three
In the hallway, Juliana paused. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. Never had she been so incensed! She dashed away angry tears with the back of her hand.
The worst thing was, she admitted, Captain Fanton was right in a way. She had been so anxious to travel on tonight, she had failed to notice that her mother was still feeling ill. She had selfishly tried to push forward with her plans, without checking on Mama’s health.
Yet, she remembered, her mother had seemed recovered as they left the parlour. She had enjoyed her tea, topped up with hot water, and had eaten two pastries with some enthusiasm. Had Mother really been hiding her illness? Or had she genuinely taken a relapse in the taproom?
Captain Fanton had looked at her with such contempt. He clearly believed her to be insensitive to her mother’s needs. The fact that he had overheard her tirade didn’t help. But if the man went around interfering in other people’s business, then he should expect consequences from time to time.
Anger warred with guilt, both emotions swirling around inside her, making it difficult to think straight. The thought of sharing a dining table with him tonight filled her with dread. Yet Mama had set her heart on it—trying to compensate for Juliana’s earlier rudeness. It was, she admitted, entirely her own fault.
The fact that Captain Fanton was one of the most attractive men she’d come across had not gone unnoticed. Something about his handsome features, knowing grin and lithe body was making her heart race and her stomach flip. Behave! she told her disobedient body.
Dinner would undoubtedly be difficult. But she was ready for the challenge.
* * *
‘Are you feeling quite recovered, Mrs Milford?’
‘Indeed I am, Captain Fanton, and I confess I am feeling a little silly for making such a fuss. Thank you for your concern, and to you, Lieutenant, for fetching the doctor.’
Evans muttered something about it being no trouble. He was clearly ill at ease and nervous, though had managed to eat four courses with a hearty diligence. ‘Not accustomed to making the civil—all bachelors,’ he’d mumbled apologetically when Juliana’s first attempts to engage him in conversation had fallen flat. By this she’d understood he was uncomfortable in female company. Juliana felt quite sorry for him and set out to put him at ease.
She now knew most of his life story, his likes and dislikes in food and horses, and the fact that he was the only child of a lawyer and a seamstress. He had a perfectly respectable background, but confessed he was still much in awe of the gentry. He adored his commanding officer, Captain Fanton.
This, Juliana put down to Evans’s obvious naïveté. Of course he would be in awe of the suave Captain, whose responses to Mama’s questions had included Harrow and Cambridge, so he likely had an aristocratic background, like many army officers. Not that she was listening to their conversation. She was perfectly happy to converse with the amiable Lieutenant Evans.
However, for some reason, she did not want Mama to share too many details about herself—about their life. She had heard the Captain ask where they lived and Mama had described some details of their life in Brussels.
‘So, what brings you to England?’ he asked.
‘We are visiting friends,’ Juliana intervened quickly. ‘We will return to Brussels in the summer.’
‘As long as that monster, Napoleon, has been captured by then,’ added Mrs Milford. ‘When I heard of his escape from Elba, I declare it was the only thing that could have persuaded me to agree to Juliana’s scheme of visiting England.’
Captain Fanton raised an eyebrow, looking from one woman to the other. ‘Ah! So it is you, Miss Milford, who wanted this trip.’
‘It was, though Mama was in agreement.’ He threw her a sceptical glance, clearly unconvinced. Again, this cynicism!
‘Were you really in agreement, Mrs Milford? Or did your strong-willed daughter force you?’ He laughed lightly to take the sting out of his words, but Juliana knew they were sincerely meant. Mama, ever trusting, smiled in response.
Can’t she see, thought Juliana, that it is just empty charm? That he is saying it to attack me?
‘Ju
liana has always been strong-willed, ever since she could first speak and walk. It is her nature.’
Juliana squirmed. Speak of another subject! she thought.
‘Indeed.’ He threw a glance in Juliana’s direction, his eyes dancing. Unexpectedly, her heart skipped a little—she was unsure why. ‘I wish I could say you surprise me.’
‘But, in this instance, her will did not overpower mine,’ said Mrs Milford. ‘I agreed to come to England, though I wish to return home to Brussels as soon as we can.’
‘You do not think of England as home, then?’
She pondered this. ‘In a way. I grew up here, so it is a part of me. But I have lived in Brussels for over twenty years and Brussels is where I am comfortable.’
‘So...was your daughter born there?’
Juliana stiffened. Really, he was too inquisitive! She opened her mouth to cut off the direction of his questions, but, luckily, Mama herself changed the subject.
‘Yes, she was. But I must tell you, Captain, I am surprised to see you army officers here, when Wellington has made Brussels his headquarters. The army is encamped in the towns and villages around, for we had word of it in Brussels society.’
‘Indeed.’ His forehead creased. ‘We are sent to London on official business. We must, of course, follow orders, though it pains me to leave my friends and colleagues behind. We hope to rejoin them before long.’
‘Well, if you return to Brussels, you must call on us. I declare I should be pleased to see you both again.’
A strangled sound escaped from Juliana. She would certainly not be pleased to see him again! As she looked towards him, they locked eyes, an unholy gleam in his. He knew exactly what she was thinking and she was powerless to intervene—oh, how manipulative he was!
‘Thank you, Mrs Milford. If you give me your direction, I shall be sure to call.’
‘Juliana will write it down for you.’
‘Will she?’ He looked at Juliana, who dropped her gaze. ‘Actually, if you tell me now, I shall write it down myself. I would not put Miss Milford to the trouble.’
Juliana bit her lip. He had known she had planned to write the address down incorrectly and had outfoxed her.
She lifted her head to look at him again. His eyes were dancing with glee. Despite herself, she suddenly saw the humour in the situation and the corners of her mouth turned up. He looked startled.
‘So you do know how to smile then?’ His voice was low, as he leaned forward to talk to her, under cover of Mrs Milford’s conversation with the Lieutenant. His deep voice, so close, sent a shiver through her, though the room was warm.
‘Well, what a strange question! Of course I know how to smile. I just choose when to smile.’
‘That is a pity. Your smile is a powerful one.’ Juliana flushed, confused by his words and warm tone. She could not, in that moment, think of anything to say.
The Captain walked to the writing desk near the window, where he lifted paper and a sharpened pen, then wrote as Mrs Milford dictated their address. Juliana took the opportunity to study him.
She had already noted his height, strong figure and ease of movement. She knew him to be handsome—this she had acknowledged even as his arrogance had incensed her. Now, unobserved, she looked at his face in more detail.
A strong profile, straight nose, good jawline. His intense blue eyes were hidden, directed to the page, but she noticed he had surprisingly long lashes, which did not at all reduce the masculinity of his looks.
As if sensing her scrutiny, he suddenly looked up. Juliana glanced away immediately.
‘...shall retire. Thank you for a most enjoyable evening.’ Juliana, distracted by her observations of the Captain, suddenly focused on her mother again. Mama was standing, saying goodnight.
Belatedly, Juliana also stood. She said all that was polite, but in truth there was a great deal of confusion in her mind. The Lieutenant lifted her hand politely, thanking her for her company.
Captain Fanton was next and he actually kissed her hand, rather than simply bending over it. His lips were warm on her skin and surprisingly soft. Her heart racing, she mumbled a goodnight and followed her mother out of the room.
* * *
Later, listening to her mother’s even breathing in the other bed, Juliana’s thoughts returned to Captain Fanton. An attractive man, that much was evident. He had arrogance in abundance—she felt anger return as she remembered his confidence, the empty charisma by which he had expected two simpering women to give up their privacy and comfort. And his accusations towards her! Juliana could not remember the last time someone had made her feel so small, so filled with self-doubt. Somehow, he had got under her skin.
Then, the attempts to charm her mother at dinner...and he had even tried his charisma on her, in quite a different way. She shivered at the memory of his lips on her hand. The man was clearly an accomplished flirt! She might have guessed it. Charm had many forms and the bold Captain, it seemed, had acquired them all.
* * *
Harry, meantime, was finding it surprisingly difficult to sleep. Miss Milford was unlike any young lady he had met before. Beautiful, undoubtedly. But it was her manner which intrigued him. She did not flirt, or simper, or hide her feelings. She was as plain-speaking as a soldier and a disturbing contrast to the coy, coquettish ladies he was used to. He was not clear why this had disturbed him so, but was confident he would soon forget her.
Chapter Four
‘Oh, it is so good to see you again!’ Juliana hugged Charlotte tightly. ‘It seems so long since we were at school together.’
‘It has only been a year, you know,’ laughed Charlotte.
‘But what a year for you! Moving to England and getting married. Is your husband at home?’
‘Yes, Adam is here, but out with his steward. You will meet him later.’
The two young women were seated together in the drawing room at Chadcombe, the large estate owned by Charlotte’s husband, Adam, Earl of Shalford. Juliana’s mother, claiming tiredness, was lying down and being fussed over by Adam’s great-aunt Clara, who seemed like a darling. Mama had suffered no relapse of her illness during the remainder of their journey, though had seemed relieved their voyage was ended.
‘The house is beautiful, Charlotte—and so large! How on earth are you managing as mistress of it?’
‘Oh, it is fine—I enjoy it, actually. There is a lot to do—and an army of servants to manage. I love it!’
‘Well,’ said Juliana doubtfully, ‘I am glad, for I could not imagine coping with the responsibility. It is all I can do to manage myself sometimes!’
Charlotte laughed. ‘That is such a Juliana thing to say! Oh, how I’ve missed you!’
‘I’ve missed you, too, Charlotte. But tell me about your husband. Is it true you are a countess now?’
‘Indeed I am, though I confess I always think they are talking about someone else when people mention Lady Shalford.’
‘Lady Shalford—just think! Though I must say you look and sound like the old Charlotte!’
‘I don’t think I have changed very much at all.’
Juliana considered this. ‘Something has changed, though, Charlotte. There is something different about you.’
Charlotte looked disconcerted. ‘Well, I hope I haven’t changed for the worse.’
‘Of course not, for I can sense already you are still as lovely—and as calm—as you ever were. Oh, how I’ve missed your calmness when I get myself in a scrape!’
‘And we certainly had plenty of scrapes together!’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Remember the time we stole the apple pie that cook had made for Herr Meindl’s visit? And we had to eat a full supper as usual so the teachers didn’t suspect it was us?’
‘Yes! And the time you got the love letter from that Italian Count, and we had to burn it quickly because the head teacher was on
her way to our chamber?’
Charlotte sighed. ‘He was exceedingly romantic—and terribly tiresome! But I was pleased he actually noticed me. All the young men used to fall in love with you, Juliana.’
Juliana snorted. ‘Not all the young men, Charlotte. Why, in Dover...’ She tailed off and bit her lip.
‘Juliana...’ Charlotte’s tone was suspicious ‘...you might as well tell me, for I can read you easily. What is your latest scrape?’
Juliana grimaced. ‘Well, I am not sure I should tell you, for I feel quite ashamed of myself. But I was provoked beyond measure!’
‘No need to give me your fierce look! Tell me the whole—who has provoked you and what did you do that makes you feel ashamed?’
Juliana told the story. She knew as she did so that she wasn’t telling it well, or clearly—her emotions were too heightened for logic, though she thought Charlotte eventually understood the essentials.
‘And now,’ she concluded, ‘that horrible man is likely to visit us in Brussels, for Mama gave him our direction.’
‘If he does, many months will have passed and you might not feel the same way.’
‘I cannot imagine ever feeling any differently about him! Why, he has followed me everywhere!’
‘What?’ Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. ‘He followed you? Who is he? What is his name? We can report him to the army...’
‘Oh, no! His name does not matter, for of course I do not suggest he actually followed me! What I mean is—he haunts me! I cannot forget his disdain, or how unjust it was! Twice on the journey I saw dark-haired men and my heart leapt with anger, as I thought it was him. But it was not him.’
‘I see,’ said Charlotte, though she looked confused.
Juliana had had enough of remembering him. ‘Anyway, tell me more about your life here. Who else lives in this huge house, apart from you and Adam and his great-aunt Clara—and your army of servants, of course?’
The Captain's Disgraced Lady Page 3