“I had urgent business to attend to this morning, so I will not see you until later on today. I have informed my mother of our plans, so you need feel no awkwardness with her. Behave yourself. Sebastian.”
This brief message sent a shaft of pure happiness shooting through Julia. Not that it was at all loverlike. Julia had to grin at the idea of cool, controlled Sebastian penning a love letter. But to her, who knew him so well, it said more than the most glibly composed love letter ever had. It said that he had thought of her, that he loved her enough to explain his whereabouts to her, that he had thought to spare her an unpleasant confrontation by breaking their news to his mother without her presence. Julia thought about how that lady was probably taking the intelligence that her son was marrying a trumped-up guttersnipe, and shivered. The harridan would be out for blood—her blood. For one of the few times in her life, Julia decided to turn tail and run. If Sebastian would be out most of the afternoon, so would she. His absence gave her the perfect opportunity to call on Oliver and explain. She could always say she was going shopping. There was some shopping that she needed to do anyway, so it would not be a lie.
“Good morning, Julia.” Caroline’s voice made her start. Julia looked up to see the other woman coming toward her with a gentle smile.
“I understand we are to be sisters now,” Caroline added, coming up to where Julia stood by the window and brushing a quick kiss on her cheek. “I must say I was nearly floored when Sebastian gave me the news. I thought you were about to announce your engagement to Lord Carlyle, so you may imagine how very surprised I was. But of course I am glad for you.”
“Thank you. And I know you will understand when I say that Oliver was … a mistake.” Julia smiled back at the taller woman, who nodded sympathetically.
Dressed today in a gown of palest jonquil crepe, Caroline did not look anything near her twenty-nine years. Her flaxen hair was drawn back into a smooth, stylish chignon at the nape of her neck, and the skin of her face and throat was soft and pale. Her slim figure displayed to advantage in the elegant morning robe added to the impression she gave of youth, and Julia thought that an observer might have guessed that the two were much of an age if it had not been for the dark smudges that ringed Caroline’s gentle blue eyes. Perhaps like herself Caroline had experienced a sleepless night. Julia’s eyes twinkled as she considered the possibility that Lord Rowland had borne the proper Caroline off to a love nest until dawn streaked the sky. No, that was clearly impossible. She did not know about Lord Rowland, but she did know that Caroline would be shocked at the very idea.
“I am sorry to say that Margaret is not taking the news at all well.” Caroline’s tone was faintly regretful. “But I imagine you must have guessed that. And the way Sebastian chose to tell her—can you imagine, he got her out of bed at some ungodly hour because he said he had business to take care of and couldn’t hang about for hours waiting for her to come downstairs? Well, that didn’t help matters as you can imagine. Her maid tells me that she is laid down upon her bed with the migraine. But she will come around, never fear. In the meantime you must tell me your and Sebastian’s plans. Do you mean to be married at once?”
“I really don’t know,” Julia said, her cheeks pinkening with pleasure at actually discussing her forthcoming marriage. It was all so wonderful, so impossible to believe. Like a dream. “I believe I must just leave all that to Sebastian. Whatever he decides is fine with me.”
“You love him very much, don’t you?” There was a curious note in Caroline’s voice. Julia looked at her carefully, and saw the faint shadows at the backs of Caroline’s eyes. She must be remembering her own love for Sebastian’s brother, Julia guessed, and the memory must still after all these years cause her pain. Of course it would. Even if Sebastian had been dead ten years, or twenty, or a hundred, as long as her heart still went on beating she would mourn him. She felt a rush of sympathy for Caroline.
“Yes, I do.”
“And he loves you?”
“I, yes. Yes, he does.”
“I thought so. I, none of us have ever seen him make such a display of himself as he did last night. There was a great deal of talk as you may imagine. I had no idea what to say to people, and neither, I am sure, did Margaret. But Sebastian tells us that we are to say that he brought you news of an ill relative, and since you two are to be married any scandal will be quickly squashed. But Julia, there is one thing I feel I must point out to you. It pains me to say it, but you know that Sebastian is not generally received. You have achieved a not inconsiderable success, which I know is important to you as well it should be, considering—well, never mind. But have you thought that if you wed Sebastian you must share his onus? The parties and balls you have enjoyed will be largely a thing of the past.”
“I don’t mind. I’d rather be married to Sebastian than attend a thousand parties.” The soft glow in Julia’s eyes as she spoke of her marriage to Sebastian was reflected in her voice. Caroline’s face changed, just a little, suddenly looking almost furtive.
“Julia, there is one more thing. I—I feel I would not be a true friend to you if I did not just mention it. You—you do know what happened to Elizabeth? Sebastian’s wife?” The words were said quickly in a hushed tone, as if Caroline feared being overheard. Julia stiffened.
“Yes, I am aware of how she died, but I don’t see that it has anything to do with me. Surely you don’t think I believe that Sebastian killed her? And surely you don’t believe such a thing yourself?”
“No, no, of course I do not. I—I just felt that I, that someone should make you aware of what has been said. But if you do not mind, then of course that is the end of it.”
“I do mind,” Julia answered quietly. “For Sebastian, not myself. He has been dreadfully wronged. But such a slander would not deter anyone who truly loves him, as I do.”
The haunted look vanished from Caroline’s eyes, Julia was relieved to see. “That’s wonderful,” Caroline said briskly, once again her usual composed self. “I trust you will inform the family before the ceremony actually takes place? I, for one, would very much like to be in attendance.”
“Certainly we will. At least I think so. Unless Sebastian—” Julia broke off, as it occurred to her that she would willingly fall in with whatever arrangements Sebastian preferred. She would gladly marry him over the anvil in Scotland if that was what he wished. She only wanted to be his wife, and the means did not matter in the least.
Caroline smiled. “Ah yes, of course, the decision must be Sebastian’s. Well, I will talk to him. But now you must excuse me. I have much to do for tonight’s party.”
“And I think I will do a little shopping.”
“Running sly from the afternoon’s callers, are you?” Caroline eyed her with a roguish little twinkle. “You need not, you know. Since we are having a party tonight, we are officially not at home today. So you need not fear to meet anyone before you are ready.”
Julia responded to that twinkle with a smile of her own. “I own, the thought did occur to me, and I thank you for the reassurance. But I think I will go shopping anyway. I feel a trifle restless.”
“As you wish, of course.” Caroline smiled again, and left the room.
Julia stood for a moment, staring out the window into the square. There were a few people coming and going along the street, vendors and servants mostly, with a single fashionable carriage pulling to a stop outside number 57. Julia watched an obese old man alight with much assistance from two footmen and a valet. It was funny to reflect that all these people, from the obese old man to the grubby urchin lurking at the edges of the park to the bun vendor pushing his cart down the street, all had their own separate interests and their own separate lives. None of them, she was willing to wager, were even a tenth as happy as she was at the moment. With a warm smile, she went to summon the carriage. She then went upstairs to get her cloak and Emily before the carriage was at the door.
It was not the done thing for a lady to call on a gent
leman at his residence, but Julia could see no other way of meeting Oliver without Sebastian’s knowledge. She had the carriage drop her and Emily in Bond Street; it was to return for them in some three hours. She then hired a hackney to convey them to Oliver’s residence.
On the way there it occurred to Julia that the best thing might just be to send Emily to the door with a note for Oliver requesting him to join her in the carriage. That would leave little chance of anyone ever finding out that she had called on him, and telling Sebastian. Sebastian would be livid if he knew.
But Emily, who swore eternal secrecy, clambered back into the hackney with the news that the stuffy butler had informed her that Oliver was not at home. Nonplussed, Julia thought for a moment, then scribbled another note asking Oliver to call on her without delay. She had Emily deliver that to the disapproving butler, then shrugged fatalistically. If Oliver did not receive her message in time to call on her before the rout, she would just have to tell him when she saw him there. It would be awkward, but not as awkward as it would have been if Sebastian were in the habit of attending parties. Surely she could manage a moment or two alone with Oliver; it was his own fault if she had to give him such news at a party. She had tried her best to do the honorable thing, but she was not prepared to risk any more.
Accordingly she had the hackney return to Bond Street, and resolved to put the niggling little worry that was Oliver out of her mind. After all, breaking such a private engagement was a relatively minor thing. She would simply tell him that she had changed her mind. Oliver, being the gentleman that he was, would take his congÉ with good grace. He would not fly into a rage as Sebastian might under the circumstances…. Sebastian. The dazzlingly handsome face rose in her mind’s eye, and she smiled. She was going to marry Sebastian. It seemed impossible, but it was true. Every time she thought of herself as his wife the day took on a rosy glow. So she banished Oliver from her mind for the time being, and concentrated on her shopping. It was almost six o’clock before they finished and returned home.
As luck would have it, she was almost upstairs, with Emily and a footman behind her carrying her purchases, when she came face to face with the dowager countess, who was on her way down. Julia hesitated, and the older woman, immaculately turned out as always, fixed her with a look that would have frozen a steaming cup of coffee in an instant.
Julia lifted her chin despite the craven pitching of her stomach, and said good evening in a cool but perfectly civil voice. The countess did not even bother to respond. She swept on down the stairs as if Julia didn’t exist, leaving only the memory of her eyes that were so like Sebastian’s glowing with hatred to follow Julia as she continued on up the stairs.
XXXII
Julia was of two minds about attending the rout. If Sebastian wasn’t going to be there, and she seriously doubted that he would be, she didn’t care to attend either. But it would give her a chance to talk to Oliver, and to face down those of the ton who might question her disappearance from Lady Jersey’s ball.
Besides that, it would take her mind off Sebastian’s whereabouts. According to Emily, whom she had sent down to inquire, he had not yet returned from whatever business it was that had taken him off so early that morning. The thought had occurred to Julia that he might once again have taken fright at the prospect of too much emotional intimacy and bolted, but she was able to dismiss that idea with scarcely a qualm. Last night she had sensed that he had stopped running from her at last. No, he was simply late. Rather than sitting around thinking about him she would be better occupied attending the party and tying up the few loose ends left in her life.
The dress she chose for the evening—actually Emily chose it, but Julia agreed it was a good choice—was of garnet red silk trimmed with yards of silver lace. The ruched bodice was fitted with a heart shaped neckline and a waistline that dropped slightly below her natural waist to end at a point just above her navel. The sleeves were puffed and cut short at the elbow, where they ended in points of silver lace. The skirt was shirred and full, but caught in just above the hem with a banding of silver lace so that its silhouette was narrow. Around her neck she wore a silver ribbon to which her cameo was pinned. Her hair was arranged in a twist high at the back of her head from which two long curls—the product of curling tongs and much coaxing on the part of Emily—descended to trail over one white shoulder. Looking at herself in the mirror, Julia was more than satisfied. She looked lovely, she thought, but, even more important, she looked every inch the lady. In appearance at least, she would not disgrace Sebastian.
She was late going downstairs, so most of the guests were already assembled. Still Caroline and the dowager countess stood by the door to the drawing room, receiving latecomers, and Julia had perforce to join them.
Caroline gave her a smile that was only faintly reproachful because of her lateness, but the dowager countess’ look could have chilled hell itself. But a false smile was pasted on her lips only seconds later as she replied to a crony’s teasing remark.
Most of the arriving guests were too well-bred to reveal if they were avidly curious about Julia’s abrupt departure from Lady Jersey’s ball, although as she shook hands and made polite remarks she was aware of a few speculative looks passed over her person. But she held her head high and acted as if she were totally unaware that there might even be grounds for speculation. She congratulated herself on a job well done when finally she was released from the line without so much as a single impertinent question being asked.
Caroline, in an aside, informed her that only Lady Carruthers had displayed enough ill-bred curiosity to actually ask about what everyone must secretly want to know, so Caroline had told her what they had agreed. No doubt it was already spreading around the room like wildfire, so if Julia just behaved as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had occurred they should brush through the evening tolerably well. Just as long as Sebastian didn’t make another impromptu appearance to spirit her off. Julia smiled at this, secretly rather wishing he would, and was still smiling when Mr. Rathburn came up to her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Stratham. You’re looking as lovely as the rose that dress makes you resemble.”
“Why, thank you very much, Mr. Rathburn. But I fear you flatter me.”
“That would be impossible,” he replied gallantly, offering her his arm. “May I take you to the refreshment tables?”
“You may, sir.” Julia smiled, placing her hand on his arm and walking with him toward where the long tables were set up in the dining rooms. “I am ashamed to admit it, but I am famished.”
“I, too,” he murmured, but from where his eyes rested it was obvious that he was not referring to food.
Julia appeared oblivious to his meaning, but she did not like it. As the evening went on, she liked what was happening even less. It became increasingly obvious that there had been a subtle but telling change in the attitudes of the gentlemen toward herself. Where before they were as respectful as a maiden aunt could have wished, now their remarks were occasionally just a shade too personal, their compliments too fulsome, their eyes too bold. In short, they treated her very much as if she were well on her way to becoming haymarket ware. Julia, deeply ashamed and even more deeply offended, still did her best to ignore all but the worst offenders. The best way to scotch such behavior, she reasoned, was to treat it as if it didn’t exist.
The ladies were a little better, but not much. None turned a condemning shoulder to her or cut her acquaintance outright, but some, particularly the very old ladies and a few of the very attractive young matrons, were noticeably cool. Julia could understand the elders, and she tried to redeem herself in their eyes by behaving with the utmost propriety. But the young matrons had her in something of a puzzle until she overheard an exchange that enlightened her.
“You know they say he murdered his wife.” The speaker was Lady Westland, a full figured brunette of perhaps thirty or thereabouts attired in a demi-robe of peach brocade.
“I don’t care if he murdere
d three wives,” replied the Honorable Mrs. Mayhew, a willowy redhead who was perhaps a little younger than her friend. “He is simply gorgeous! I could have died when he walked into Lady Jersey’s house like that, without so much as a by-your-leave, and waltzed out with that Stratham chit. It was so romantic! Why does nothing like that ever happen to me?”
“You may thank your lucky stars that it doesn’t. Would you like to end up like poor Elizabeth Tynesdale?”
Mrs. Mayhew made a charming pout. “Pooh! I never said I wanted to marry him, did I? And I very much doubt that marriage is what he has in mind with his little—what is she, his cousin? A brief affaire is more his style, I’m sure. And mine, as well.”
Lady Westland crowed with laughter, and smacked her friend sharply on the arm with a fan. “Naughty, Irena! What would dear Wesley say?”
“Why, nothing, for he will never hear of it, Besides. Wesley is boring. Did I tell you that he …”
Julia didn’t hear any more because the two ladies moved on. She had been sipping a glass of ratafia, waiting for Mr. Rathburn to return to her from replenishing his plate at the buffet. They were to go together to watch the whist players in the card room
Caroline had set up. A potted palm had shielded her from the speakers’ view during this exchange, but she had heard every word perfectly and it enlightened her considerably. Of course, a number of the younger women envied her! Naturally Sebastian was not a prime catch on the marriage mart; the suspicion that he had murdered his wife and his subsequent semi-ostracism from society was enough to ensure that, but as a lover … These correct ladies wanted her man in their beds, and the knowledge both pleased and annoyed Julia. It was fine as long as they kept their claws to themselves and Sebastian kept himself out of their way. But if he were to succumb to one of the ladies’ lures, it would be quite a different story. Julia was surprised to find that the very thought had caused her hands to clench around the cup she held. It was enlightening to discover that she could be just as fiercely possessive as Sebastian.
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