Juliana perched herself on one of four green silk sofas with gilt arms carved to look like winged lions. She folded her hands in her lap. She crossed her feet and uncrossed them. She rose and peeked at her sweets.
The winged lion sofas had six matching chairs, and she was heading for one of them when James walked in.
“Here,” she said, grabbing the platter. “I brought these cheesecakes for you.”
He took them, looking as mystified as Griffin. But not at all brotherly. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that not only was he without a coat or cravat and his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck again, but he’d rolled up his cuffs, too. A good six inches of his forearms were bare—muscled forearms, lightly sprinkled with dark hair.
“What are you doing here, Juliana?”
She jerked her gaze up to his face. There was no sense putting it off. “I came to apologize. Won’t you have one of the cheesecakes? The recipe is said to have been in my family since Queen Elizabeth’s time.”
He set down the platter. “Apologize for what?”
He wasn’t going to eat any Richmond Maids of Honour. She would have to hope he’d forgive her without their magic. “For plotting with Lady Amanda to trick you into compromising her,” she confessed in a rush. “In the library last night. I was hoping you would kiss her, and then I’d bring Lady Billingsgate to witness Lady Amanda’s disgrace, so her father would be forced to assent to your marriage.” She drew a shaky breath. “Can you forgive me?”
“That’s terrible.” She’d known he would disapprove, but she hadn’t expected he’d look quite so dour. His fists were clenched. “Whyever would you do that? I told you, I can see no reason Lord Wolverston would reject my suit should I decide to ask for his daughter’s hand.”
“She doesn’t believe he’d agree. He isn’t a very nice man.”
“Surely he isn’t stupid.” He unclenched his fists, but only to cross his half-bare arms. “I’m excellent husband material.”
He had a high opinion of himself, but it wasn’t unjustified. There was no doubt he’d make an excellent husband for Amanda. “I’m sorry I went behind your back, but why are you so upset? However terrible the means, the outcome would have been to your benefit. You’d have found yourself married to the woman you love. Unless…”
An awful thought suddenly occurred to her.
She’d assumed that since he was still courting Amanda, he’d fallen in love with her. But what if he hadn’t? What if her scheming had resulted in James being forced to marry a woman he didn’t love?
“Do you not love Lady Amanda yet?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.
“No,” he said, looking quite sure. Not to mention horrified.
It was the wrong answer, so why did she feel relieved? “Maybe you’re in love with her, but you don’t know it,” she suggested. “Maybe you don’t know what love feels like.” It was a reasonable question, certainly. She’d asked it of herself several times over the last few weeks.
But now he looked annoyed. “I know what love feels like, Juliana.”
That surprising news made her a little uneasy. “You’ve been in love before?”
“Yes. With my wife.”
She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d punched her in the stomach. In fact, it felt like he had punched her in the stomach. “You have a wife?”
“I had a wife,” he corrected. “Her name was Anne. She died in childbirth, along with our baby. Two years ago.”
“Dear heavens. I didn’t know.” The sharp pain in Juliana’s middle shifted to an ache in her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”
She watched him walk to a chair and lower himself to it wearily. He no longer looked angry or annoyed; he just looked sad. “I forgive you,” he said dully. “What you did was still terrible, but I know your heart was in the right place.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“As long as you promise not to try it ever again.”
“I won’t. I promise. And a Chase promise is never broken. That’s been our family motto for centuries.” She sat in the chair beside him, grasping the two lion heads at the ends of its arms as though they could lend her their strength. She was glad to have his forgiveness, but his pain ripped her up inside. He’d loved a wife, and she’d carried their baby, and they’d both died. “I’m so sorry you lost your family.”
“You’ve lost family, too,” he said.
“But not a child. It must be hardest to lose a child.”
He nodded. “We’re supposed to die before our children.”
“A child is part of you, part of your future.”
“It’s only recently I’ve realized that,” he said with a sigh. “Only recently I’ve realized I want to have another.”
Of course he wanted another baby. She wanted a baby, too. And so, she was sure, did Amanda. But he needed more time to fall in love with her.
Juliana knew grief, knew how much it hurt, knew it took a long while to resume living life fully. He’d lost a wife. It would take him time to recover, to allow himself to love another.
She hadn’t realized.
He needed more time. He’d said many wonderful things about Amanda, and he was still courting her, after all, so eventually he’d fall in love with her. But he needed more time.
A pity he had only two weeks.
Thirteen days, actually. Twelve days if he didn’t see Amanda again until tomorrow. She couldn’t let him wait any longer than that.
“You know,” she said carefully, “you’ll have to remarry to have a child.”
“Not technically,” he said with a hint of his normal good humor.
“James…”
“Yes, I shall have to remarry to have a child. My dear mother, bless her heart, reminds me of that fact on a daily basis.” He paused and looked away, his voice going lower, quieter. “Even though I’ll never fall in love again, someday I’ll have to remarry.”
How could he say such a thing? “You cannot marry without falling in love.”
“People do it all the time,” he said, looking back to her. “There are many reasons people marry. Wealth, ambition, position, security, duty, honor. And to have a child. While I’d never marry an enemy, I can certainly marry a friend. One can kiss a woman and make a child without falling in love.”
Though his words made her blush, she persisted. “How can you possibly know you’ll never fall in love again?”
“I just do,” he said flatly. “Falling in love would mean betraying Anne, and that isn’t going to happen.”
Wealth, ambition, position, security, duty, honor…to have a child. Those were sad reasons to wed, Juliana thought—and old reasons as well. Her parents had married for such reasons. Today, in these modern times, young people preferred romantic love matches.
Except…maybe Amanda.
Lord Stafford and I suit well, she remembered Amanda saying. We’re compatible. Maybe my father was right—maybe there are more important considerations than love. I cannot marry Lord Malmsey!
At the time, she’d worried that Amanda had decided to marry James for all the wrong reasons. But maybe the two were even better matched than she’d thought. Marriage would give them both what they wanted. Children for James, and a young, compatible man for Amanda.
“Juliana?” James said. “What are you thinking?”
Still sad for him, she forced a smile. “I’m thinking that the two of us went out often during your lessons, but since then you’ve had no outings with Lady Amanda.”
“You want me to take Lady Amanda riding in Hyde Park? Or to the Egyptian Hall?”
“Not exactly.” If he hoped to become friends with Amanda—if he hoped to kiss and eventually marry her—he needed to take her someplace much more romantic. “I was thinking Vauxhall Gardens would be perfect.”
She’d never been to Vauxhall Gardens, but judging from what she’d heard, it seemed there was nowhere more suitable for lovers, most especially at night
. The gardens were described as a paradise of lush paths with many private corners, their twelve acres lit by romantic lanterns—save for a few of the walkways that were deliberately left dark.
“Vauxhall Gardens?” James repeated skeptically. From what he’d heard, the gardens served mainly as a spot for illicit trysts. “I’ve never been to Vauxhall Gardens.”
“Haven’t you?” Juliana said. “It’s a lovely place.”
A lovely place to steal a lady’s virtue, or at the very least a few kisses. Which James had no intention of doing with Lady Amanda.
On the other hand, it could be a lovely place to visit with Juliana.
Convincing her of that, however, might be a trick to rival hers.
In truth, James had felt rather dazed upon learning that, in her determination to match him with Amanda, Juliana had been willing to resort to trickery. Dazed and a little bit panicked. Although he realized meddling was in her blood—one didn’t have to know Juliana more than a few minutes to conclude that—he’d thought he’d been making progress toward kissing her.
Had his efforts to tempt her accomplished nothing? Obviously, touching Juliana and unbuttoning his shirt were not enough. He’d have to employ stronger tactics if he wanted to kiss her and make sure she didn’t ruin her life by marrying stuffy Castleton.
“I wouldn’t know where to take Lady Amanda in Vauxhall Gardens,” he told her, rolling his sleeves up a little more. “Perhaps you should come with me instead the first time, to show me the good places.”
“I don’t think—” Juliana’s gaze was fastened on his arms. It wandered up to his open shirt. “The gardens are closed on Sundays. Shall we make it tomorrow night?”
“Parliament will be in session—”
“If you want a child, James,” she said, finally looking him in the face, “you need to put courting ladies before the House of Lords.”
Perhaps he should. Since he wasn’t making any progress with his bill, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to make progress with Juliana his priority. For a day, at least. Or a night.
“Very well,” he said.
“Good.” She glanced at his arms again, which he found somewhat encouraging. “I must get home before the guests arrive for my sewing party.”
He nodded and started from the room. “I’ll come by for you at seven o’clock Monday.”
“I’ll see that Aunt Frances is ready,” she said as they walked through the library.
Tempting Juliana was difficult even without an audience. The last thing he wanted was her chaperone hovering nearby. “Do you suppose Lord Malmsey would like to accompany your aunt?”
“I’m sure he would.” She went lightly down the stairs, her renewed good cheer lifting James’s heart. She was such a delight. A treasure. “That’s a wonderful idea,” she said.
Yes, it was. Lord Malmsey seemed quite enamored with Lady Frances, which meant he’d have an eye to getting her alone, which in turn would leave James alone with Juliana. The plan was sounding better and better.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said. His butler opened the front door, revealing Griffin outside pacing around the Cainewood carriage.
“Until tomorrow,” Juliana echoed, starting toward her brother. “Wait,” she said, turning back. “I forgot to ask if you’d like me to volunteer this week at the Institute.”
She would come again without her aunt, James thought. If he failed to kiss her at Vauxhall, maybe he could get her alone in one of the treatment rooms. “Absolutely,” he told her with a smile. “How about Friday?”
“Friday will be fine.” Returning his smile, she headed toward the carriage.
The butler shut the door behind her, but not before James heard Griffin’s impatient huff. “Why in blazes did it take you so long to ask the man one simple question?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
DARK WAS falling.
Juliana had arrived at Vauxhall Gardens with James, Aunt Frances, and Lord Malmsey at about eight o’clock Monday night, while the sun was still gracing the summer sky. It was a fine July evening, perhaps a bit chillier than usual, but without the slightest hint of rain. The pleasure gardens had proved as lovely as she’d hoped, spacious and laid out in delightful walks, bordered with high hedges and towering trees, and paved with gravel that crunched beneath their shoes.
For the first half hour they’d strolled, finding something charming around every corner. Pavilions, grottoes, temples and cascades, porticos, colonnades and rotundas. Here was a striking pillar, there a wonderful statue, in the distance a series of large, picturesque murals. Throngs of visitors promenaded, showing off their finest clothing, their rowdy laughter and whispered endearments filling the night air.
Now, with the sun sinking low, they were seated at a table for four by the building that housed the orchestra, a structure that struck Juliana as Moorish or perhaps Gothic—she couldn’t decide which, but regardless, it was magnificent. Its second story was open in the front so the musicians were visible inside.
While they listened to a pleasing variety of popular songs intermixed with serious compositions, they enjoyed a light supper of cold meats and bread and cheese accompanied by French claret. Aunt Frances was astounded at the exorbitant cost of the diminutive portions.
“My word,” she said disapprovingly, “this Vauxhall ham is sliced so thin one could read a newspaper through it!”
Lord Malmsey laughed and motioned to a serving girl to order more. “Would you like some cheesecake, too, my dear?”
“It cannot be as good as Juliana’s,” James said, shooting her a warm smile.
So he’d eaten her Richmond Maids of Honour and enjoyed them. Feeling inordinately pleased about that, Juliana smiled back.
As the musicians played the last notes of a piece composed by Handel, a piercing whistle split the night. “What’s that?” she asked.
Lord Malmsey cocked his balding head. “Have you never been here before, Lady Juliana?”
She was about to tell him she hadn’t, but then she remembered James didn’t know that. “Not at night,” she said instead.
But a part of her wondered why she’d accepted James’s invitation to show him around, knowing he should be escorting Amanda tonight. The two of them needed to spend more time together if he was to decide to marry her before her planned wedding in twelve days’ time.
“Just watch, then,” Lord Malmsey said.
And she stopped musing, sucking in a breath as a thousand oil lamps came to life, lit by myriad servants touching matches to their wicks in the same instant. The effect was nothing short of sensational, bathing the gardens in a warm light that must have been visible for miles around.
“Enchanting!” Aunt Frances exclaimed.
Lord Malmsey cocked his head again. “Have you never been here at night, either?”
“I’ve never been here at all,” Frances said.
Shy, retiring Aunt Frances had missed out on a lot, Juliana thought as they finished their supper, but that was about to change. She’d never been happier to see one of her projects prove a success.
“Shall we walk again?” Lord Malmsey asked, rising from the table. “The gardens feel like a different place among the lanterns.”
“A lovely idea.” Frances rose, too, and pulled on her gloves.
Juliana reached for her own but found her lap empty. “Where are my gloves?” She was sure she’d placed them there when she took them off for supper—it was a lifelong habit, after all. She checked the ground on either side of her chair. “I cannot find them.”
“How odd.” Shifting his gaze to Lord Malmsey, James waved a hand toward the beckoning paths. “You two go on ahead. I’ll help Lady Juliana find her gloves, and then we’ll catch up to you.”
As Frances and Lord Malmsey walked off, Juliana leaned to peek below the table. “I cannot imagine where they might have gone.” She rose and looked under her chair. “They seem to have disappeared.”
“Perhaps they’re in my pocket,” James said. �
��Right beside mine.”
She looked up at him, startled. “How would they get there?”
He shrugged one shoulder, a corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile. “How indeed?”
She laughed. “Give them to me.”
“I think not. I think you’ll need to get them for yourself.”
She eyed his striped silk waistcoat, his dark tailcoat, his crisp white trousers. She didn’t know which of his pockets he’d hidden her gloves in, but she wasn’t about to slip her hands into his clothing to find out. She laughed again. “James…”
He took her bare hand in his. “Your aunt and Lord Malmsey will get too far ahead if we don’t go after them. Come along.”
The paths seemed gayer now that it was dark, the company enlivened with mirth and good humor. Music drifted from the orchestra through the trees. Seemingly suspended everywhere, the lamps looked like little illuminated balls glowing every color of the rainbow. Some were arranged in lines or arches, others grouped to represent the starry heavens.
Juliana thought Vauxhall Gardens was the most wonderful place she’d ever been. Her heart felt light, and her hand felt warm in James’s. She knew she shouldn’t allow him to hold it, but just then she didn’t care about proprieties. Ahead of them on the path, Aunt Frances leaned close to Lord Malmsey, oblivious to her charge.
When they caught up to the older couple, who had stopped by a tinkling fountain, Juliana pulled her hand free.
“Look!” Frances pointed overhead. “It’s Madame Saqui!”
Wearing an outlandish dress decorated with tinsel, spangles, and plumes, the celebrated tightrope walker seemed to be dancing on air as she ascended a rope attached to a sixty-foot mast. Despite her glittery attire, her appearance was rather masculine. Juliana could see up her dress, and her legs were muscled like a circus strongman’s. But her balance was impeccable, her steps graceful and seemingly timed to the orchestra’s lilting music.
“It looks like a ballet, doesn’t it?” Juliana said.
“A ballet for two,” James replied as the dancer’s husband mounted a second rope beside hers. “I’ve heard they earn a hundred guineas per week.”
It Happened One Night: Six Scandalous Novels Page 144