“There’s nothing to tell,” Juliana said. “And we must stop whispering. It’s not polite.”
“You’re right,” Rachael said louder as she threaded her needle. “I’ve been wondering,” she said to the company in general, “whether it’s a good idea to marry a man expecting him to change.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Whom are you thinking of marrying?”
“No one in particular. It’s just a hypothetical question.”
“No,” Corinna said flatly. “You cannot change people. If you marry a man expecting him to change, you’ll be disappointed.”
“Not necessarily,” Juliana disagreed. “People change all the time. Look at Amanda.”
Amanda blushed.
“Amanda wanted to change,” Corinna argued. “That’s very different from expecting a change in someone who’s happy with himself.”
Claire nodded. “Just think, Juliana. How would you feel if someone married you expecting you to change? Or even hoping you would change? Wouldn’t you prefer a man who wants you just the way you are without wishing you were different?”
“We’re not talking about me,” Juliana snapped. “It was Rachael asking the question.”
But she knew they were talking about her. Or at least they could be. She was planning to marry the duke expecting him to change, and she knew the duke would probably hope she would change, too.
Whereas James liked her just the way she was. But only as a friend—he would never love her. If it seemed he wanted her in a physical sense, that was only because they were friends and he wanted a child.
And he had to marry Amanda, or else three other people’s lives would be ruined.
Her stomach had never hurt so badly in her life.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
AS JAMES WAS leaving that evening, Cornelia walked into Stafford House. “How did your day go, dear?”
“Very well.” Pausing in the entrance hall, he shifted the picnic basket he was carrying. “I wasn’t shorthanded today, so I was able to stop by Gillow’s to see the bedroom furniture you and your sisters picked out. It looks fine.”
“Good. I chose the fabrics this morning, and I have a painter coming by later this week. This is all coming together very quickly.”
“Excellent,” he told her. “I truly appreciate your help. Did your sisters enjoy today’s sewing party?”
“Very much. They’re looking forward to another one tomorrow.” She reached up to smooth his hair, making him feel about six years old again. “I was surprised to learn this afternoon that you’re going to the Physic Garden rather than Almack’s.”
He shrugged. “Lady Juliana and Lady Amanda said they’d prefer to visit the garden.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with your lovely young ladies.”
“They’re not my ladies, Mother.” He hoped Juliana was getting closer to becoming his lady—her reactions at the Panorama had been encouraging—but she wasn’t his lady yet.
“Are you going to marry one of them?”
He leveled his gaze on her. “Are you going to marry Lord Cavanaugh?”
She blinked. “I’m not prepared to say. At the moment I’m just enjoying his company.”
“Exactly.” He bent to kiss her on the cheek. “Enjoy Almack’s, will you?”
He whistled as he went out the door, whistled as his carriage made its way to Berkeley Square. Things were looking up. He might have just managed to get his mother off his back, and in any case, an hour from now he’d be kissing Juliana.
He stopped whistling out loud when his guests joined him in the carriage, of course, but he was still whistling in his head. And toying with the deck of playing cards he’d slipped into his pocket. It was nearly six o’clock by the time they reached Chelsea and alighted from the carriage on Swan Walk.
“Good evening,” he said to the guard at the garden’s entrance.
“Good evening, Lord Stafford.” The man swung open the gate set into the old redbrick wall. “Sunset is at quarter to nine.”
“The garden closes at sunset,” James told his party. “Is Wheeler here?” he asked the guard.
“Not tonight. He left at four.”
“Oh, that’s a pity,” James said, although it wasn’t a pity at all. In fact, it was exactly what he was hoping to hear.
“Who is Wheeler?” Juliana asked as they walked in.
“Thomas Wheeler is the Physic Garden’s Demonstrator. He’s hired to explain the uses of the medicinal plants to visitors. I can do that, though.” He led them along a tree-lined path to the center of the garden. “Would you all like a tour, or would you prefer to dine first?”
“I’m famished,” Castleton said. “We can look at plants later.”
James suspected the man didn’t want to look at plants at all, which suited his plans just fine. He chose a grassy spot by the rockery and laid out a large blanket before opening the basket his servants had prepared. The duke and Lady Amanda hung back while James opened a bottle of wine and Juliana and her aunt unpacked cold chicken, bread, and cheese.
“I don’t sit on the ground,” Castleton said stuffily, taking his supper to a nearby bench.
What an ass, James thought for the umpteenth time.
Lady Amanda didn’t seem to agree with his assessment, however. In fact, she appeared to breathe a sigh of relief. “Neither do I,” she said and joined the ass.
“You should sit by her,” Juliana whispered.
“There’s no more room on the bench,” James whispered back. Actually, there would have been room on the bench if the two of them weren’t sitting primly spaced apart from each other. But it was just as well, since he had no intention of sitting with Lady Amanda anyway.
“No one else seems to be here,” Lady Frances observed, happily settling close by Lord Malmsey on the blanket. “This place is so peaceful and enchanting.”
Juliana pulled off her gloves as she sat down by them. “Corinna would love to come here and paint.”
“I can obtain a ticket for her entrance,” James said. He took glasses of wine to the ass and his companion, then lowered himself to the ground by Juliana.
“What is the purpose of the garden?” Lord Malmsey asked.
James swallowed a bite of bread. “Doctors and apothecaries can visit to obtain cuttings of medicinal plants. But mostly it’s used for educational and training purposes. Hundreds of medical and apothecary students visit every year as part of their studies.”
Juliana waved a chicken leg toward a white alabaster statue of a man holding a scroll, dressed in a fancy robe and a full, old-fashioned wig. “Who’s that?”
“Dr. Hans Sloane, a former president of the Royal College of Physicians. In the late sixteen hundreds, he visited Jamaica and brought back a cinchona tree, having learned that the bark could be used to make quinine to treat malaria. Later, when the Society of Apothecaries was at risk of losing the garden, he bought the land and leased it back to them for only five pounds a year—they still pay the same price now.”
“What an unusual rock garden,” Lady Frances said, squinting toward it since she wasn’t wearing her spectacles.
“The oldest in all of England, or so I’ve been told. It was built to provide a habitat for foreign plants that grow best in rocky soil. The white stones are from the Tower of London, the black from a volcano in Iceland, and that giant-clam shell is said to have been brought to England by Captain Cook.”
“You seem to know everything,” Juliana said, smiling over the rim of her wineglass. “We don’t need a demonstrator, do we, Amanda?” She turned toward the bench. “Amanda?”
Amanda was gone. As was Castleton, the ass.
“Where did they go?” Juliana asked.
“I don’t know,” Lady Frances mused. She turned to Lord Malmsey. “Theodore, would you help me look for them?”
“With pleasure, my dear.” Belying their age, the two rose agilely to their feet, and Lord Malmsey tucked Lady Frances’s hand in the crook of his arm
. “Shall we, my love?”
Juliana’s jaw dropped open as she watched the older couple walk off. “I cannot believe it,” she muttered when they were out of earshot.
James drained the rest of his wine and started putting the remains of their dinner back in the basket. “You cannot believe what?”
She looked up at him, a little frown between her brows. “I cannot believe Aunt Frances asked Lord Malmsey to go off alone with her. She’s always been so shy. And I cannot believe everyone left us again.”
Her eyes looked greenish, which was no surprise. After many hours of observation and analysis, James had finally puzzled out the mystery of Juliana’s changeable irises: They were more blue when she was happy or aroused, more green when she was worried or angry. Right now he guessed she was rather distressed, which put their hue in the latter range.
The distress was a good sign. It wouldn’t be long now before she figured out she’d be much happier with him than with Castleton. If his plans for this evening were realized, her eyes would be blue before he was finished. Deep, deep blue.
“Everyone will be back soon,” he said. “Lady Frances and Lord Malmsey will find the others.”
“They aren’t looking for them. They’re off somewhere kissing.”
“Really?” he said, reaching a hand to help her rise. “I guess we should go look for Castleton and Lady Amanda ourselves, then.”
“Yes, we should,” she said. “You’re supposed to be with Lady Amanda.”
Having seen where her friend and the ass had gone, James led Juliana along a path in the opposite direction, which, happily, was the direction he wanted to take her. Trees lined both sides of the meandering gravel walkway, their leaves shimmering and fluttering overhead. The sun was dropping toward the horizon, making the walled garden shady and romantic.
The ambiance couldn’t have been better.
“I don’t see them,” Juliana said after they wandered a few minutes in companionable silence. “I cannot imagine where they might have disappeared to.”
“Me, neither,” James said, taking her hand. She’d left her gloves on the blanket, and her fingers felt warm in his, especially compared to the air. Juliana was wearing a rather thin dress, and with the sun setting, it was getting a bit chilly. “Maybe they’re in this greenhouse,” he suggested, leading her off the path. “They might have gone inside to warm up.”
“This greenhouse is warm,” she said when they entered. Due to the abundance of glass, it was nearly as light inside as out. “It feels wonderful in here.”
“I understand this was the first heated greenhouse in all of England,” he told her, “and maybe the first in the whole world.” He coaxed her between the rows of plants toward the back wall. “Hans Sloane wrote about this greenhouse back in 1684, marveling about the cleverness of putting ovens beneath the floor.” Stopping before a door marked PRIVATE, he reached for the knob.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I don’t think we’re supposed to go in there.”
“Maybe Castleton is in there with Lady Amanda.”
“I think not.” Still holding his hand, she pulled him away from the door. “Amanda would never go into a room alone with him. She’s much too reserved for that.”
“She was in a room alone with me,” he reminded her. “Lord Billingsgate’s library. She even tried to kiss me.”
Her cheeks flushed a becoming pink. “That’s because she wants to marry you.”
Thinking it was too bad Lady Amanda didn’t want to marry the ass instead, he reached again for the knob. “Maybe your aunt and Lord Malmsey are in there,” he suggested, “kissing.”
The pink deepened. Her eyes were back to blue-green. She pulled on his hand again. “I don’t think—” she started, and then she gave a little shriek when he opened the door.
Smiling, he stepped inside. “They’re not in here. Come in and see, sw—”
Damn. He’d almost called her sweetheart again.
Luckily, she was so concerned about trespassing, she didn’t notice. After peeking her head in, she breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re not supposed to be in here, James. The door is marked private.”
“It’s Thomas Wheeler’s office,” he said with a shrug. “The Demonstrator who went home earlier. He’s a friend; he wouldn’t mind.” He tugged on her hand. “Come in, Juliana.”
Reluctantly, she came inside. “It is private.”
It was a tiny cubby, with a compact desk against the inside wall and a small round wooden table with two chairs in the center. “The table is for demonstrations,” he explained. “Private demonstrations.” The exterior wall was glass, of course, it being part of the greenhouse. But trees grew so closely all around that no one could possibly see in, and plenty of light filtered in through the leaves and the glass ceiling overhead.
He shut the door, shutting them off from the world.
She whirled to face him, dropping his hand. “What are you doing, James?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the deck of cards. “Since we can’t seem to find our companions, I remembered I wanted you to teach me to play casino,” he said casually. “It’s cold out there and warm in here, so I thought it might be nice to sit a while and play cards.”
She eyed him warily, her gaze still blue-green. “Maybe for a minute.”
“Excellent.” He sat and waved her toward the second chair. After she sat, he slid his chair around the table and up against hers.
Taking the cards, she frowned. “You’re supposed to sit across from me.”
“I will after I learn. Right now I need to see your cards.”
“Very well.” When she shuffled the cards, he could feel the vibrations. They were that close. She dealt out four cards to each of them and four more faceup on the table, then put the rest aside. “Pick up your hand,” she instructed, “and see if any of your cards match the ones on the table.” Then she proceeded to explain all the rules, none of which he bothered listening to, since he already knew how to play casino.
As she talked and moved the cards around, he noticed her wheaten hair shining in the waning sunlight and thought about how much he wanted to see it slip from its pins. He leaned even closer to smell it, inhaling sunshine and flowers. He rubbed his shoulder against her arm and watched her eyes turn a little bluer. He pressed his thigh up against her thin skirts.
“Are you listening, James? Did you get all of that?”
“Of course.” It was a very simple game, really. At least for him. He and his brother had kept a running score for years, and he’d always stayed miles ahead. “I think I’m ready to play now.”
“All right.” She gathered the cards and began reshuffling them. “You can move to the other side of the table.”
“I’d rather stay here for the first couple of hands. In case I need your help. By the way, what shall we wager?”
“Wager? We don’t need to wager.”
“I never play games without a wager. A wager makes it much more interesting and fun.”
“Is that so?” She stopped shuffling and slanted him a sideways glance. “I heard about how Griffin lost thirty guineas to you last month playing chess. I have no money.”
“We’ll wager something else, then,” he said blithely.
“Like what?” She turned to him, looking wary again. But her eyes weren’t turning green. They were staying rather blue. Amused, he ran a finger down her arm and watched them get even bluer.
“How about buttons?” he suggested.
“Buttons? We didn’t bring buttons.”
“We have buttons on our clothes. When one of us loses, he or she can unbutton a button.”
Chapter Forty
JULIANA WAS scandalized. Absolutely, positively scandalized. She’d never heard of wagering buttons. Amanda would faint dead away if James ever suggested wagering buttons with her. The mere idea seemed wicked and immoral and sinful and…
Tempting.
Dear heavens, it was tempting. It would teach
James a lesson, that was for certain. After all, he was sure to lose, given that he didn’t know how to play the game and he’d been daydreaming while she’d explained it to him. Daydreaming and touching her, making her stumble over her words. If she agreed, he would lose, and then he’d know not to wager buttons with Amanda. It was very, very tempting to say yes.
She did enjoy seeing James with his buttons unbuttoned. And since she was certain to win, she wouldn’t have to unbutton any of her own. The whole thing could turn out to be rather pleasurable and amusing. And James would learn a lesson.
“All right,” she said, “we’ll wager buttons.”
James looked surprised, but very pleased. After that, everything started happening rather quickly. His fingers went immediately to his neckcloth, working the knot.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Exposing my buttons. Go ahead and deal.” He all but ripped off his tailcoat and dropped it to the floor. “Deal, Juliana.”
She dealt. They picked up their cards. James spread his and smiled. “I go first—is that right?” She nodded, and he plucked a king from his hand and used it to claim the king on the table. “Aha,” he said. “You have to unbutton a button.”
“You haven’t won yet!” she protested. “That was just a single trick.” Anyone could win a trick; the real skill was winning the whole game. “Were you not listening, James? We have to play until all the cards are gone, and then we add up the points, and whoever has the most points wins. Then somebody unbuttons a button.”
She’d almost said then you unbutton a button, but she’d stopped herself in time. Although she was going to win, there was no reason to sound smug about it.
“Oh, no,” he said. “We don’t have time for that. We’re playing for only a few minutes, remember? It’s getting dark, and we’ll have to leave. We’re wagering a button for each trick.”
“We are not! We’re wagering a button for each game.”
“We don’t have time to play more than one game. A Chase promise is never broken, remember? You promised you’d wager buttons, Juliana. Unbutton a button.”
It Happened One Night: Six Scandalous Novels Page 148