The Captain's Disgraced Lady

by Catherine Tinley

* * *

  Dressed and ready, she went directly to Mama’s chamber before breakfast. Scratching at the door, she heard her mother’s voice, weakly calling her to enter. Good, she was awake then.

  ‘Good morning, Mama!’ Juliana drew back the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room. She turned to face her mother—and stifled a gasp. It was like looking at a statue. Her mother’s expression was devoid of feeling, of reaction. Her eyes were dull and lifeless.

  Knowing her mother was too fragile for questioning, Juliana instead behaved as though all was well, chatting to Mama about the weather, the prettiness of her room and which dress she should wear that day.

  Her mother gave monosyllabic answers, but she at least responded. Yes, she believed she had slept quite well. Yes, she had woken naturally, had already used the chamber pot and, yes, she had washed. Was she ready to dress? Yes.

  Juliana took all of this as encouragement.

  ‘You do not need a maid this morning, Mama, for I shall button you up myself. It will be quite like old times! Why, in Brussels, every time Sandrine was ill or visiting her family, we had to tend to each other. It was one of the best things about having only one maid.’ Mama stood and allowed Juliana to dress her.

  ‘I wonder how Sandrine is faring.’ Excellent—her mama had spoken a full sentence!

  ‘We shall see her soon, Mama. We never intended to stay here long.’

  Mama clutched Juliana’s hand. ‘Can we go home, Julie? I do not wish to stay here. Though Charlotte—everyone has been most kind—I cannot—I...’ Her voice tailed off.

  Juliana placed her other hand over her mama’s. ‘Yes, Mama. We shall go soon—though perhaps we should wait until Napoleon is defeated. It might be difficult to pass through France right now.’

  Mama seemed content with this and sat to allow Juliana to brush her hair. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  Juliana bit her lip. Mama was reassured and that was a comfort, but Juliana was troubled. She had spoken confidently just now, but in reality she knew not what to do. How long would the campaign against Napoleon last this time? Would the Allies finally defeat him? If the self-styled Emperor marched again, even Brussels might become a battlefield.

  And what would they subsist on? Pin money from General Hunter? That awful man’s money had paid for everything Juliana and her mother owned—including this hairbrush. Juliana’s jaw hardened with anger. Setting down the hairbrush before her strokes became too harsh, she twisted her mother’s fair hair into a pretty Grecian knot and fixed it with hairpins.

  ‘Mama, you look beautiful! See?’ She showed her mother her face in the glass, but Mama’s expression remained blank. ‘Now, let us go and join the others for breakfast.’

  * * *

  Harry did not appear at the breakfast table. Juliana tried hard not to watch the door, which was constantly opening, with servants bringing food, hot chocolate and strong coffee. Charlotte had stood to embrace both her and her mother when they had appeared, but no one mentioned yesterday’s drama.

  ‘We are at home today,’ Charlotte reminded Olivia. ‘Perhaps Mr Nightingale will call.’

  Olivia blushed, and tossed her head. ‘What care I if he calls? There are many young men in London.’

  ‘But none who writes such romantic poetry, surely?’

  Olivia muttered something unintelligible and stared down at her food. Then, as if having found courage, she lifted her head.

  ‘Alf—Mr Nightingale would like to show me Vauxhall Gardens. He says there are pretty walks and there is to be a show with acrobats. Please may we go?’

  Charlotte looked dubious. ‘As you know, Olivia, I have only lived in England for a relatively short time, but I have the strong impression that Vauxhall is not a suitable place for debutantes.’

  ‘Oh, please, Charlotte. I should so love to go!’

  Juliana saw Charlotte’s discomfort. She was unwilling to agree to something unless she was certain it was appropriate. Steering her young sister-in-law through the Season had its complications.

  ‘I shall discuss it with Adam and I will let you know.’

  Olivia had to be content with this. Juliana reflected that Charlotte was doing well as Olivia’s sponsor. After all, at twenty-two, she was only a few years older than her young charge. Juliana now felt older than all of them. It was strange to sit through a normal conversation and to wonder if she would ever appear in public with Charlotte and Olivia again.

  * * *

  Mr Nightingale did call, and soon after he left, they received Millicent, Henrietta and Hubert. Juliana’s heart sank when she saw them. She was, of course, perfectly polite in her greeting and did her best to make sensible conversation—or, as much sense as the artless trio were capable of.

  It was almost an hour later when Harry finally appeared. He did so just as the Etheringtons were finally rising to leave. Juliana looked at him admiringly, recognising that everything about his appearance was perfection. His regimental coat and pale breeches hugged his fine form, and his black boots gleamed. In the midst of the confusion, worry and uncertainty surrounding her, seeing him was like the sunshine breaking through clouds.

  Naturally, their guests decided to prolong their visit for a few extra minutes, Millicent in particular dominating the ensuing conversation. Harry was all smiles, flirting expertly with the redhead, yet today, Juliana was not irritated by it. She saw, for the first time, that Harry was not serious in his attentions to Miss Etherington. Knowing every expression on his face, every gesture made by his strong hands, she understood his mind was elsewhere, even as he paid outrageous compliments to Millicent’s new gown.

  Juliana had finally, it seemed, decided to trust him.

  Not to be outdone, Henrietta fished for a compliment on her own attire and her husband, recognising his cue, duly obliged. In that moment, Harry’s gaze sought out Juliana’s and the corners of his eyes marginally softened as their eyes met.

  Juliana’s world shifted. Her gut, stomach, womb and heart reacted with joyful glee. This was real. This was a true connection. Not the extravagant words Harry gave to Millicent, but the quiet glance he gave to her. It was so subtle that no one else could be aware of it, but Juliana knew his heart was singing in the same key as hers.

  * * *

  Harry was terrified. He felt lost, adrift on a sea of uncertainty, fear and hope. He looked at Juliana. Her eyes met his and his heart turned over. She was his nemesis, his judge—but she was also, he realised, his anchor.

  The realisation filled him with joy, but also with dread. It would not do! He had nothing to offer her—he was too flawed, too broken. Yet he saw the light inside him reflected in her eyes. Juliana! He wanted to touch her—to take her into his arms and kiss her forever. To take away all her worries and make everything right for her and her mother. To protect her from all harm.

  Yet, he reminded himself, he must not speak, must not act. Self-restraint was his only option. War was coming and he would again be tested—and found wanting. His soldier’s uniform made him look competent, dashing—heroic, even. He felt sick at the false impression he was projecting. He was not whole, not worthy of being loved. To pretend to be otherwise would result in more pain, for when Juliana discovered the truth about him—his insides froze at the possibility—she would surely recoil in disgust. No, better to resist now, and avert disaster.

  During their visit, Henrietta and Millicent had focused their conversation on Charlotte and Olivia, and later Harry, ignoring Juliana and her mother almost completely. Juliana had not remarked much on this, as she had already made a fair assessment of the young ladies’ characters. Henrietta was vain and self-centred, while Millicent saw Juliana as a rival in her flirtation with Harry. Oh, if only you knew, thought Juliana, not without a little smugness, how he looks half-naked in candlelight. How he gazes at me, as if hungry. How he looked at me just now.

  Insti
nctively, she knew. There was a profound connection between her and Harry, something patently missing from his superficial interactions with Millicent. Watching the young ladies titter and giggle at his witticisms, Juliana felt as though she and Harry were benevolent parents, indulging their children with silly games while saving their true energies for each other.

  As the Etheringtons rose to leave, Juliana realised Millicent’s antipathy towards her was more marked than ever. Both Henrietta and Millicent afforded her mother and herself only the slightest of courtesies, their manner bordering on insolence. Mr Etherington, seemingly unaware of his wife’s and his sister’s disdain, performed equally courteous bows to all of the company, which made the ladies’ rudeness even more apparent.

  Having been aware of Millicent’s ill feeling towards her from their first meeting, Juliana was only a little surprised. It was now apparent that Millicent had extended her hostility to her own poor mama, who, thankfully, seemed unaware, still lost in the fog of yesterday’s trauma. And Henrietta was taking Millicent’s part, throwing Juliana an equally disdainful look as she moved towards the door.

  ‘Dear Charlotte!’ she said gushingly. ‘I do so enjoy spending time with you! And with dear Lady Olivia, of course! One can tell a person’s quality when spending time with them and you and Olivia are two of the most gently bred ladies in all of London!’

  Millicent’s expression was one of unholy glee. ‘I must agree with you, Henrietta! The Fantons of Chadcombe are one of the noblest families in England and must of necessity be particular about the company they keep!’

  With this obscure statement, the whole party finally departed, leaving Juliana, Olivia and Charlotte heaving sighs of relief as they retook their seats.

  ‘I honestly thought they would never leave!’ said Charlotte, with some feeling.

  ‘It is all your doing, Harry,’ added Juliana teasingly, ‘for we had just about succeeded in encouraging them to go when you appeared.’

  Harry, it seemed, was in no mood to be amused. ‘I never saw them behave so rudely before. They were downright vulgar just now.’ His brow was furrowed in thought. ‘I cannot account for it.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Harry,’ chided Charlotte. ‘You know Henrietta of old! And Millicent, too.’

  He shook his head. ‘I know them to be two of the silliest girls in England—though I never before saw Millicent behave as badly as Henrietta. Something about today’s insolence seems different. I cannot exactly identify what it is.’

  ‘I wondered the same thing,’ said Charlotte. ‘But perhaps we are imagining it.’

  ‘Hmm...’ he said, clearly unconvinced. ‘Are we walking today? Adam is home and said we should rescue him from his secretary as soon as we may.’

  Charlotte rose immediately, her eyes lighting up. ‘Adam is home? Why did you not tell me?’

  ‘But I have just done so!’

  Charlotte was already opening the door, charging them to be ready to walk out in ten minutes.

  Olivia declined immediately, reminding them the dressmaker was to call on her shortly. Juliana’s mother, with clear relief, indicated her intention to go and lie down. Olivia took her arm and accompanied her out of the room.

  Which left only Juliana and Harry. They were alone for the first time since their encounter in his chamber. Juliana felt uncharacteristically hesitant.

  ‘How is Mrs Milford today?’ His voice was a little husky. He coughed, as if to clear his throat. ‘She still looks poorly.’

  ‘She is, though thankfully she slept well.’ Juliana blushed, wishing she hadn’t mentioned sleep. Sleep meant beds and bedchambers and led inevitably to memories of her uninvited visit to his room. ‘Er...she is too frail to speak about difficult matters, but she has eaten a little today. I am hopeful she will recover in time.’

  An awkward silence grew between them. Abruptly, he walked to the window and looked out, his back to her. She saw tension in the line of his shoulders. She was at a loss for something to say. Why was it she could feel so connected to him in public, not half an hour ago, yet in private she was overcome with awkwardness? She pushed through it. ‘I shall walk with you and Charlotte and Adam. Indeed, if I stay indoors for much longer I believe I should burst!’

  He turned to face her, then threw his head back and laughed. ‘Burst? Burst, indeed! Oh, Juliana—you are truly unique!’

  Juliana threw him a mischievous smile, glad to see she had punctured the tension. ‘I am sincere! Being at home to visitors is so tiresome. I feel as though I am held in a cage today, imprisoned by doors and walls and la politesse!’

  ‘Then let me release you, my beautiful captive! We shall walk out together and escape the cage of London society for a time.’ They shared a smile and all was right again.

  * * *

  St James’s Park was the oldest of the Royal Parks, and Juliana had already come to know it very well. She and Charlotte linked arms as they crossed the tree-lined Mall to reach the greenness beyond. They were discussing Juliana’s mother, of course, and General Hunter, but were no nearer to finding any solutions. Charlotte kept repeating the hope some other explanation could be found, though even she admitted it was unlikely.

  Juliana held no such hope. She was not denying the reality of her parentage, but strangely, she felt distant from it. Bad things were coming—any position she had in society was gone, along with the opportunity to maintain a close friendship with Charlotte, Adam or any of the Fantons.

  Today, with visceral memories of Harry’s sleep-tousled form and the feeling of connection with him, she could not imagine not being part of him. It was acting like a warm blanket, protecting her from thoughts of the troubles ahead. Her greatest worry, though, was her mother. Mama cared about such things as reputation and what others thought of her much more than Juliana did.

  They wandered towards the lake, where Adam broke off his conversation with Harry to reclaim his wife. Juliana fell in beside Harry as they followed the lakeside path. Taking her hand, he tucked it in the crook of his arm and they walked in silence for a few moments, following Charlotte and Adam, as they usually did.

  ‘Mrs Milford is lying down again?’ His voice was a little husky.

  ‘Yes.’ Juliana bit her lip. ‘She still does not speak about anything important. It has always been her way. She prefers to pretend the problem doesn’t exist, refuses to speak to me about it, yet she is clearly suffering. I feel so helpless, so useless! I do not know what I can do for her.

  ‘She told me earlier she wishes to leave London. She wants to return home as soon as possible.’

  ‘Is that what you wish?’

  Home? Away from Charlotte, from London, from Harry? Coldness gripped Juliana’s stomach. Somehow she could not think clearly. She stared blankly up at him.

  Searching her face for a moment, he suddenly stopped walking. ‘Oh, Juliana, if only I could take this burden from you!’

  Grateful for his words, Juliana felt the fear inside her subside a little. She squeezed his arm. ‘You are already diminishing it, Harry. Indeed, I am sure I do not know how I would manage without our conversations!’

  ‘Nonsense!’ he said gruffly. ‘You are like an Amazon! I admire your strength of character—I do not know how you can bear it!’

  Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Thank you.’ Her voice shook slightly.

  ‘Damn it, Juliana!’ His face twisted. ‘Do not show me weakness!’

  Then, suddenly, somehow, she was in his arms.

  Afterwards, she could not remember whether he had embraced her, or whether it was she who moved towards him. She only knew his lips were on hers, his strong arms were around her and she was lost in him. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed again. Juliana reached her arms around him, feeling through his well-fitting coat the strength in his back, the warmth of his body. Another kiss and now their tongues danced with each other. Juliana’s heart was racing,
her breathing was laboured and heat was coursing through her. Never had she felt a fire like this!

  They broke off to look into each other’s eyes. What she saw in his was both terrifying and wonderful at once. He felt what she felt! She knew it! He looked at her mouth, then swooped again, kissing her with a fierce intensity that she returned, measure for measure.

  ‘Juliana!’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘My love!’

  Joy coursed through her. He was right—this was love. Love!

  Suddenly, it all made sense. Her connection to him. Her irritation with his flirtatious mask. The way she knew, always, where he was in the room. The way they both, subtly, contrived to spend time together, talk together, walk together, whenever possible. The way he looked at her—as if she was a puzzle he was compelled to solve. As if she was wonderful.

  ‘Harry,’ she murmured. Inside, her heart sang. Harry.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They broke apart, as consciousness slowly returned. They were in a public park, with Adam and Charlotte walking up ahead, and anyone might see them! Juliana took a small step away, noting as she did so that Harry seemed as shaken as she felt. He stood staring at her, then lifted his left hand and slowly ran his fingers down her cheek. The look in his eyes was so tender that it melted something inside her. She felt like she could cry. Or fly.

  Time slowed as she took in every detail. His face, framed by windswept dark hair. The look in his deep-blue eyes. His physical presence, that sense of his strength, warmth and solidity.

  Harry lifted her hand and tenderly kissed it. He then tucked it into his arm and indicated with a gesture that they should walk on. It echoed the events of just a few minutes before, when he had left Adam to take up his place by her side. In those intervening moments, the world had changed.

  Neither spoke as they walked along. Juliana was content to simply enjoy the feelings flooding through her—elation in her heart, warmth in her belly and a sense of wonder at what was happening. Her eyes followed the flight of a lark, as it ascended, dipped and climbed higher into the clear blue sky.