Saving Juliette

by Gayle Eden

  “I knew that.”

  Monty glanced at him sharply, having spent those hours, years together, Jahi likely knew him as well. Yes, he had sounded overly protective.

  “Is it your wish that she not know someone like me?” his friend enquired frankly.

  “No. Of course not.” Monty retorted.

  Those dark eyes went over his face, a slight smile on Jahi’s lips.

  Wolford offered, after blowing out smoke and walking a step away, “She’s a child still, Jahi, despite her appearance. I caught a glimpse of those old ghosts in her eyes.”

  Wise man that he was, Jahi murmured, “It’s not a child’s pain. The English girls, they mock her. The boys too.”

  Wolford contained his own nod at that, his anger too, wanting to go round and slap the lot of them until their ears rang.

  “She’s a very different young woman. Not in the fashion of the ones here, but something…”

  “Yes.” Monty agreed. Then, “Let’s suffer through the rest of this gathering, and then we can relax.”

  They went back to the guests, but later the Marquis ended up in the study having a private word with his father about Juliette.

  That word, despite his earlier suppositions to Jahi, put him slightly in shock as his father stated his intent that they would find Juliette a husband this season.

  “She is only sixteen. Marrying her off in her first season seems a bit—rushed.”

  “Yes.’ His father frowned and sighed, then walked to the French doors. “Your mother and I had hopes otherwise. We have done everything possible to make her feel like a daughter, but being the daughter, or ward of a duke and duchess brings its own demands. The academics she excelled at, and went beyond what most young women learn, but given who her father was, I was not wholly surprised. We let her study as she wished. It is the same with sporting, although we did not always approve of some of her choices beyond archery and equestrian endeavors. Juliette came to us somewhat—reckless, or restless, I do not know which.

  She was observant and soaked up all that was asked of her in the ladies' academy, but was often disciplined for her penchant to ride hell for leather, and just—leave—ramble at will. I am convinced had anyone other than the duchess and I been her guardians, she would have been expelled.”

  “The natural exuberance of….”

  His father looked at him dryly. “I have nothing against young women with a bit of spirit. I applaud it. Despite how it may seem, I do understand what Juliette has been dealt in her life. She took your leaving extremely hard. We were beside ourselves trying every way possible to reach her. Eventually she did comply, but Juliette complying is—” He shook his head and looked back out at the garden. “On the surface, your mother and I could not have asked for a better ward. But underneath…”

  Monty got up and carried his brandy over, leaning against the doorway, opposite his father. “I am a seasoned man, Your Grace. You may speak plainly to me.”

  Bluntly then, that deep voice intoned, “Juliette has displayed certain— wantonness…”

  Snorting, Monty muttered, “Wanton? You mean with the riding in trousers—”

  “Very well. A certain—inappropriate curiosity….”

  Monty stared at his still handsome father, seeing the discomfort and concern mingled. He did not think his father enjoyed the thought of marrying Juliette off so young, and he could tell the stoic man loved the girl. His mother certainly did. Though, Lady Mary also knew all too well the expectations for young women, and the limitations.

  Scandal, truth or not, was as good as death. Not to mention, what it would do to their own reputation. Though he had never wondered before, Wolford was certainly aware that the attitude toward well bread women and their sexually vs. women who were mistresses, was that young ladies were for breeding heirs— and not to be excited, stimulated, or otherwise. He had not wondered before this if his father held to that belief. His own had changed tremendously once he became a man of the world and sexually more experienced.

  ‘Who was the young man involved? I ask, because I did not notice that she interacted with anyone, least of all males.”

  “No.”

  Confused, Monty took the chance of further discomforting his father and pressed, “I am afraid I do not understand. If there was no scandal, no other—”

  The duke pulled away and went to his desk, and sat down.

  “One of the maids informed your mother that Juliettewas being overly friendly with a young horse trainer I had allowed to apprentice under Jeffers. God bless your dear mother, Mary took that at face value, and gave her a stern but loving talk on the distinction of classes. I, on the other hand, decided to put myself in the stable and observe for myself. It was not so mild a breach as mere conversation…”

  Still looking at him Wolford waited.

  His father murmured, “There was—touching involved.”

  “I see.” Monty said that to relieve his father of further explanation, though he did not exactly see, nor did he feel the same sense of alarm. Though to be fair, he may well have eight years earlier. He may have demanded she be married off and who knew what else back in those days of rigid ignorance.

  On the one hand, he was still wrapping his mind around the mature Juliette, and on the other, he could not stop the mental picture of whatever the touching was, from joining it.

  He attempted, “Perhaps that is a seeking of male approval or natural curiosity, since she very obviously bloomed early…”

  “Very astute of you, my son. Also my initial supposition. However, it does not matter if either of those be the truth. A young woman’s virtue is highly prized, and whilst one can cover the lack to some degree; my fear is that should she remain unattached, she will either be discovered in some scandalous encounter— or get herself with child.”

  Monty chanced, “Perhaps, now that I am returned, she will feel comfortable enough to re-establish what was once a trusting relationship with me.”

  “I had hoped.”

  Yes, Monty saw that in his father’s eyes. He added, “I can see very clearly that you and mother care deeply for Juliette. Moreover, I know, in your minds, such potential for scandal, or for the jeopardy to her own life, what you observed—has tied your hands and left you little choice. Even so, give me a bit of time. Whilst It is a stretch to imagine, and likely inappropriate on every front to what we Englishmen are taught about the relationships between men and women—I believe friends can be found in both sexes, and perhaps she will see me as…an older brother.”

  His father eyed him; then let that gaze roam over him. “Be careful, Montgomery. You are a very mature and worldly man, but also handsome and virile.”

  Laughing in surprise, Monty supplied, “We are not speaking of some—siren, Your Grace, but a sixteen year old girl.”

  “I know that. But you have a particular attachment to Juliette.”

  Eventually Monty left his father—brooding, perhaps lacking true confidence that Monty’s presence would make any difference.

  Actually, Monty was not cock-sure either. Most of his reaction had not come from a sense of outrage at what she’d been caught doing— but rather that she would be wed— knowing his mother, likely to an older man who could control her, and with no thought to love or affection—even like—at the age of sixteen. She would have no say in it. Again, his aversion to that, years ago, would have been nonexistent. Now, he could not stomach the thought.

  He didn’t know this grown up Juliette, thus his suggestion was based on nothing more than a hope that he could perhaps talk to her about discretion and the proper time for err…more intimate curiosity.

  It proved deuced difficult to get a private moment with Juliette outside the (proper) family tea and dinners.

  His parents, for all they were everything one would wish, being truly affectionate, still ran a formal household. She met with his mother, presumably to discuss the upcoming debut, and her wardrobe, which they would go up early to purchase. His father was b
usy preparing the estate and staff, consulting with his man about the move to their London mansion for the season. He too spent an hour with Juliette after supper.

  It did dawn on the Marquis by week’s end though—that Juliette was deliberately avoiding him.

  Not so Jahi. Jahi had sought her out and conversed with her. Given his friendly nature, charming smile and good looks, it was no surprise she responded to him. They rode together several times and strolled after dinner in the gardens.

  The Juliette present at meals, was respectful and quiet, just as the one pouring tea for the duchess was a composed and well-behaved young lady. Her hair always done up, clothing stylish, and bosoms, at least inside, in the fashionable gowns, covered by a discreet lace insert or shawl around her shoulders. She did wear a proper habit when riding with the family, but she could be spied more than once in her trousers, exiting the back entry, and heading for the stables.

  Before he set out to deliberately cross her path, Wolford used his father’s tactic and watched her in the gardens with Jahi one evening whilst they strolled. Relaxed, laughing at times, she cast glances at the young man, watched him, and looked him over in way one who was physically attracted does. Jahi did likewise, but was not overt in it. Juliette was discreet to the casual observer, but Monty was not trying to be that.

  He could catch bits and pieces of their conversation, consisting mostly of her curiosity about his background and Egypt. An intelligent exchange for such a young girl, thus proving she was not only well read but could converse and draw out with skill. There were likely other reasons she did not exert herself so much, on behalf of those in the younger crowds. He seriously doubted another of her age would be as well read or as versed as she was on the subjects.

  Wolford had been standing on second floor balcony, in the back, just off a sitting room still, when she eventually looked up. He knew himself to be caught, and with all the casualness of an heir at ease at his childhood home, he nodded to her.

  She nodded and then got to her feet, saying something to Jahi before excusing herself. After she came inside, Monty made his way to the garden and invited Jahi to the billiard room.

  Shirtsleeves rolled up, brandy poured, they began a game and easy conversation, some laughter—for though they had never played, only discussed the intricacies of the game, Jahi was presenting him with a challenge. He was actually very good at it, as he was at most anything, having that quick study talent.

  “I shall find ways to occupy myself whilst you are doing your duty in London,” Jahi said at one point. “You have lectures to give, also.”

  “I’m sure you will, however, you can be my guest at the clubs. Though I do have some things scheduled, you may attend any ball I or my family attends.”

  “Will I be allowed to dance with Juliette?”

  “She is awfully young, Jahi.” He said that casually and rose from taking his shot.

  “Young, yes—but mature. Moreover, she informs me what you said was true. Only the duchess intends to marry her off—this season.”

  “Hopefully not.” Monty muttered, and then took a drink from his glass, meeting his friend’s eyes as he did not take his shot but leaned his hips on the table and rested the stick against the floor. “If she has a debut, my father, or perhaps I, will be the first to dance with her. Certainly you may put your name on her card.”

  Idly rocking the cue stick, Jahi’s eyes scanned him. “She is older than some brides in my country.”

  “This isn’t Egypt.”

  “No. But she is to be married off to someone who matches her bloodlines.”

  “Eventually.” Monty could tell Jahi had a serious interest in the subject.

  “Seems a pity.” Jahi held his gaze. “She is more than meets the eye.”

  The hair prickled on Monty’s nape. He decided that Jahi expected him to be as honest and blunt here as they had been in Egypt. He was not acknowledged as a man of pretenses or games. Therefore, he said aloud, “You’re attracted to her?”

  “Yes. Very much.” Jahi put the stick away and took up his own glass. “As she is, to me.”

  “She expressed this?”

  “In every way that matters.”

  There. There was no point in going the whole, in what way, or what do you mean, thing. He had observed that himself in the garden.

  Monty suggested, “Let’s take our drinks up to my sitting room.”

  They did so, going up the stairs and then getting comfortable in that sitting room, windows open, and cheroots lit, booted feet propped up.

  It was there that the Marquis told him what the duke had confided about Juliette.

  Jahi listened, and being no man of pretense either, met his gaze with, “So, he is afraid of scandal? “

  “Yes. Not that I assume he likes anything about having to deal with it. Father does have affection for her. It’s not so much what she—feels—as it is, she hasn’t the maturity to handle the consequences, nor, apparently, to be discreet.”

  “Ah.” Jahi leaned his head back a moment, studying a painting on the far wall.

  Monty offered, “Love matches are unheard of in society, typically not encouraged, because bloodlines and titles matter more. It is the same in your country. The point of these sorts of matches is not only heirs, but also that once an heir is out of the way—couples may take lovers. One assumes, by the time she had one, she’d be old enough to have discretion.”

  “There are scandals in all societies.” Jahi reminded him.

  “True. Married or not, both sexes manage to fall short and act out in society. There is no point in discussing the double standard. We both understand that. Nevertheless, there are few options or protections for a young woman who falls from grace. My hope is to have a word with her, and assuage father’s fears. She can relax then and enjoy the season—”

  “She doesn’t appear to me as someone who would. Outside the formal gathering and house, she is different. When there are others around, it is as if she becomes someone else.”

  “Most young ladies are trained to be—”

  “Yes but—”

  “I know.” Monty nodded. “I did note that.”

  They drank their brandy and then Jahi murmured, “I perhaps would not have considered it before, but it seems a rather harsh, and cold solution, for someone merely curious— I know it is the way of things. She would have been stoned in my country. But I do not like the idea of Lady Juliette being married off….”

  Monty murmured, “Be careful of your—feelings, toward her, Jahi.”

  His friend arched a brow at him. “I am most discreet, Wolford. But if she is forced to wed, I would be first in line to be her lover…”

  Monty would not name the surge of emotions that filled him in response to that. He could not yet. Nonetheless, it was strong.

  He said, “Hopefully, she is over her childhood resentment of my leaving and I can establish that trust with her again. Should I do so, this conversation, and your attraction, shall be a moot point.”

  Jahi smiled. “Nothing would change my attraction for her. However, I wish you well in earning her trust. I should like to see her bloom for a few more years.”

  Their gazes held for some time and Monty tried to banish images from his mind of the handsome young man and Juliette together. However, for all he threw up every hammered-in prudish view of young women, he remembered himself at sixteen and how he struggled to fight those urges—having little choice but to do so until opportunity arose to sate them. Still, between servants and the village, he had seen enough that kept his hand under the sheets at night when he was that age.

  Before retiring, his friend stood by those open windows smoking, and Monty joined him. He caught Jahi looking at him often—and knew—he was appallingly transparent.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Monty set out to find Juliette. He did so, in the stables.

  “Might I join you on your ride?” The Marquis led his horse as he walked toward her.

  S
tartled, Juliette looked up at him. “Y—yes of course.” Her gaze searched his briefly before she finished with the tack and was leading the mount out. She used the stirrup to get astride.

  Monty took that look as a waiting for his scold at her attire—snug black trousers and boots, linen shirt. Her hair was tied back and made a thick spiral, fox red, to her waist.

  He merely smiled as she rode past him, and once outside, steered the way toward the woodland paths.

  She rode a muscled gilding, tall, proud, a spirited and yet robust mount.

  Monty could feel her eyes on him and once in the woods, and chanced, “We haven’t had the chance to get re-acquainted since my return?”

  “No, my Lord.”

  The utter flatness of her tone made him glance at her.

  Juliette looked ahead.

  “You’ve matured quite a bit, Juliette.”

  “You mean—I’m fat.”

  He pulled his horse to a halt.

  She went only a bit further before turning to regard him.

  “Why would you assume—”

  She cut him off, her gaze frank, “I have been told that by every dressmaker, maid, and likewise, since I was twelve.”

  “My mother—”

  “—No. Her Grace, the duchess, is much too kind and tactful to put it so bluntly.”

  Meaning Lady Mary did hint that there was some flaw with her generous curves.

  He said in sharper tones than intended, kneeing the mount to catch up. “I meant no such thing. As I am sure, my mother did not. Do not be so defensive, Juliette.”

  “Yes. My Lord.” She went on the path with him.

  Having lost his opening for an intimate chat, he endeavored, “My leaving was not a personal affront to you, Juliette. As a young man fresh out of university, my other option, because I am my father’s heir, was to divide my time between estates and London— and waste both my education and opportunities—”

  “—I understand, my Lord.”

  “Wolford, or Monty.”

  “I have read your pieces and books. I was a very young child when you left.”