by Candace Camp
It was some time, however, before she was able to go to sleep—although she was not sure whether this fact was caused by nerves over the attacker or over her upcoming dealings with Lord Stonehaven. Whatever the cause, as a result she slept very late the next morning.
She spent much of the afternoon in her room, altering one of her mother’s old gowns. Being several years old, it was not quite a` la mode and required fairly extensive renovations. The dress was dark royal blue and consisted of a silk underdress covered by a layer of very sheer silk decorated with lace. Julia had had the idea for converting the dress the other night when she had seen the boldly dressed woman at Alfred’s house. She redid the bodice, carefully taking out the thicker silk layer beneath the lace on the bodice. She also narrowed the skirt, as it was fuller than was fashionable now.
The result, when she put it on, made her blush. She was not as exposed as the woman the other night had been. The lace was thick enough that one could not actually see her nipples, but enough of her skin showed through to make it extremely titillating. The neckline was a trifle high, not the low, square-cut neck that was popular nowadays, but given the tantalizing glimpses of bare flesh beneath, Julia thought that it was rather more alluring with a high neckline. Thank God for her light cloak, she thought, for Phoebe would never have let her out of the house looking like this.
She took a long, soaking bath in water perfumed with attar of roses, letting the hot water soothe her jangled nerves. Her abigail then put up her hair in a simple style with only a small knot of ribbons for decoration, for Julia thought it best not to do anything that would distract one’s eye from her scandalous dress. After that, the girl helped her dress, for it was impossible to button up the frock in the back without help. Delicate sandals completed the outfit. She would have liked to add a touch of color to her cheeks and lips, but as she had no pots of rouge, she had to content herself with pinching her cheeks and pressing her lips together to deepen their rosiness.
She was ready to go, but a glance at the clock on her mantel told her that she was almost an hour too early. She waited, pacing the floor, her nerves growing by the moment. Phoebe came to visit her, and Julia hastily grabbed a shawl and wrapped it around her to conceal the revealing bodice. Phoebe, not seeing the bodice, approved of the dress and assured Julia that she looked wonderful. The deep blue color, she told her, turned her eyes a wonderful color.
Finally Julia left, wrapped in her light cloak and with a pale blue, lace-trimmed half mask upon her face. She had thought, trying it on earlier, that she looked rather good in the mask. It gave her a certain air of mystery, while emphasizing the blueness of her eyes. She was still a trifle early, but she could not bear to wait any longer. Once again she hailed a hackney and took it to the entrance of the Gardens. As Vauxhall lay on the other side of the Thames, she found the trip more unnerving than the others she had taken alone in a hackney. However, her driver acted with complete propriety, even asking her if she was certain that she wished to go there and warning her that it was no place for a young miss alone. She assured him that she was being met, and though he still seemed unsatisfied, he drove her there.
She was relieved when the conveyance drew up in front of the entrance and she saw Stonehaven’s tall form waiting for her. She recognized him in an instant, even though he, too, wore the half mask that most of the revelers at Vauxhall Gardens masquerades wore. His was a very plain black silk, but it lent a certain piratical look to his lean face. She noticed that two lone women walking by cast eyes of interest over him.
Julia had been worried about what she would do if Stonehaven had not arrived yet. She had heard tales of the young bucks who frequented the gardens, openly ogling and even making advances toward unaccompanied females, which was the sort of thing she had never had to deal with. She jumped down from the carriage, smiling broadly in her relief. Stonehaven’s face, which had looked stern, lightened when he saw her, and he strode toward her.
“There you are.” He reached out to take her hands, smiling, and his eyes glowed in a way that started her pulse pounding. “I was afraid you might have changed your mind.”
“I’m not late, am I?”
He chuckled. “No. ’Tis the other way around. I am early.”
There was a discreet cough from the driver of the hackney, reminding them that he had not yet been paid. Julia reached into her reticule, but before she could bring out her money, Stonehaven had already done so, giving the man a sum that made him grin hugely and tip his hat in appreciation.
“You needn’t have done that,” Julia protested. “Besides, I am certain that you must have paid him too much.”
“Nonsense. A poor thing I should be if I let you pay for your own hackney. It’s galling enough that you would not let me escort you.”
“I am well able to take care of myself. I am not, after all, a delicate flower of a maiden,” Julia commented dryly.
He leaned closer, breathing in her scent. “You smell like a delicate flower.” He brushed his knuckles lightly down her cheek. “And your skin is as soft as any rose petal.”
“You, sir, are an inveterate flatterer.”
“Nay. Ask anyone, and they will tell you I am fatally blunt.”
As they continued their light banter, he took her arm and was leading her into the center of the entertainment park, where the private boxes were lined up facing the central mall. He opened the door in the rear of one of the boxes and stepped back to allow her in.
It was a pleasant enough room, with a small table and a few chairs, as well as a sofa against the back wall. The front consisted of a waist-high wall, with the area above that open to the Gardens, but Julia noticed that at either end hung dark velvet curtains that could be drawn to avoid the stares of the vulgar crowd, if one wished to. An oil lamp glowed on a stand against the far wall, casting a low, warm light over the room, and a candelabra waited in readiness on the table. A covered supper had been laid out for them on the table, several bottles of wine already uncorked and “breathing” in readiness.
“I dispensed with the servant,” Stonehaven said, indicating the table. “I thought we could fend for ourselves tonight.”
“Yes, of course,” Julia answered a little breathlessly. Even as inexperienced as she was, she recognized that it was a scene set for seduction, from the plush curtains to the golden lamplight to the padded brocade couch.
“Here. Let me take your cloak.” He came forward, reaching out to take the wrap from her, but when Julia pulled it off, revealing for the first time the provocative dress, he stopped dead still. His words died in his throat, and he simply stared at her, his eyes traveling slowly down over her bosom, teasingly cupped by the array of lace, revealing and concealing her flesh in a manner designed to arouse.
His eyes flared with an unholy light, but he controlled himself enough to take her cloak, though there was the slightest tremor in his hand as he did so.
“You are very beautiful,” Stonehaven said, his voice husky.
A thrill ran through Julia at the sound of his charged voice, and it was all she could do to say, “Thank you.”
She thought that he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her, but instead he turned away and hung her cloak on a hook. Julia stripped off her gloves, reminding herself sternly that she had to be in firm control tonight. This was her best chance to catch the man, and she could not get rattled. By the time he turned back, she thought she had herself well in hand.
“Shall we dine?” he asked, gesturing toward the table.
“I think I would rather watch the passing parade for a moment, if you don’t mind. It is such an interesting lot of people, don’t you think?” She gestured vaguely toward the bottles of wine on the table. “Perhaps we might have a little drink?”
“Of course.” Stonehaven went to the table. “Would you care for a glass of wine? Sherry? Ratafia?” He mentioned two drinks commonly drunk by ladies.
“Sherry would be nice.” Julia smiled at him and strolled over
to the half wall that looked out on the middle area of the gardens. She had not taken off her mask, and she was glad of it, for the stares of several of the young men passing by were far too bold. She felt safer behind the mask; at least no one would know her face if they should ever meet her again.
Stonehaven came up beside her, handing her a glass of golden liquid. It took only one hard look from him to discourage a young man who had started to walk over to their box.
They sipped at their drinks as they watched the people stroll along. Julia thought that she would indeed have enjoyed seeing them if it had not been for the nerves knotted in her stomach. She took a sip or two of the sherry in the hope of relaxing, but she had no intention of drinking much tonight. She was unaccustomed to drinking liquor except for a glass of wine at dinner—and usually not even that. She certainly did not want to become inebriated herself in the attempt to loosen Lord Stonehaven’s tongue. Tonight she needed, more than ever before, to be in full possession of her senses.
Stonehaven made a joking comment about a sprig of fashion who was walking past their box now. Dressed in the tightest of pantaloons in a pale shade of lavender, with a coat of bright blue, quite padded in the shoulders to make up for the defects of his figure, he obviously considered himself up to the mark. The points of his collar were alarmingly stiff and high, making it almost impossible for him to turn his head, and his snowy white cravat was tied in an intricate manner. Across the figured waistcoat that showed between the lapels of his coat stretched a gold watch chain from which hung such a number of fobs and seals that they clattered together as he walked. He strolled along slowly, giving everyone the opportunity to admire him. When he saw Julia and Stonehaven watching him from their box, he bowed toward them, no doubt sure that they were staring because they were so entranced with his attire. Since he had to turn the whole upper half of his body in order to do so, Julia had to clap her hand over her mouth to hide the fit of giggles that threatened to engulf her.
“Atrocious girl,” Stonehaven told her, smiling lazily. “You nearly made me choke—I’d just taken a drink.”
“Nonsense. ’Twas not I who made you laugh. It was that popinjay.”
“The Tulip of Fashion? Oh, no, laughable though he is. What nearly caused me to lose control was the way your mouth dropped open. You looked like a landed fish.”
“How unkind of you to say so!” Julia protested, spoiling her appearance of indignation by chuckling. “You show a lamentable lack of conduct.”
“I?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What is that old expression? Something about the pot calling the kettle black?”
They passed some time in this bantering way. Julia asked him who this person was or that. One very grand-looking woman, whom she supposed must be a member of the peerage, was, he informed her, one of the most famous madames in town, while a plain white-haired woman in an outmoded black dress was, he said, a duchess.
“No!” Julia protested. “I can’t believe it.” She glanced at the empty glass in his hand. “You must be foxed.”
He laughed. “I’m not. I tell you, that is the Duchess of Denwater. They live in a grand, decaying pile up in Yorkshire, and both she and the duke are the most amazing skinflints one ever saw. It’s said she pinches every penny and pays such miserable wages that she can’t keep a full staff. She comes down to London once a year and drives her son and his wife mad. The duke stays at home, despising to travel. The son has to beg for every cent he gets from them. It’s fortunate his wife has a small legacy or the Lord only knows what they’d do. He has to borrow on his expectations as it is.”
Julia shook her head as she reached out for his glass. “Let me refill your glass,” she offered.
He shook his head. “I thought you were sure I was foxed.”
“I should have known you would cast that back up at me.” Julia took the glass from his hand despite what he had said and went to the table to pour him another drink.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” he teased, following her to the table and pushing his mask back off his head.
Julia looked up into his twinkling eyes, holding out his glass, and said provocatively, “Why, of course. How else could I ‘have my way’ with you?”
His fingers curled around the glass, touching hers, and he gazed down at her warmly. “Indeed, my dear Jessica, there is no need for you to do anything to achieve that. I am already yours.”
Julia’s mouth went dry, and her heart began to knock wildly in her chest. She gazed at him, unable to think of anything to say. He set his glass of wine down on the table with one hand, and with the other he pushed up her mask and laid it aside.
“I dislike any part of your face being covered,” he murmured.
He bent to kiss her.
Julia braced herself. She had prepared herself to hold out against this first kiss. She knew that she must not allow it to rock her off her feet as she had been the other two times. But he surprised her by not kissing her deeply or fervently, but with the lightest of touches, his lips brushing hers like butterfly wings. His mouth returned again and again, gently taking first her upper lip, then her lower, between his lips. It was teasing, distracting and thoroughly arousing to her senses.
Stonehaven raised his head and looked down at her with a faintly questioning look. Julia stared back at him. She didn’t know what he wanted her to say, but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, it would be to ask him to kiss her again.
With the greatest exercise of self-will, Julia made herself step back. “Perhaps—perhaps we should have that supper now.”
He stepped aside, saying, “Of course,” and held out a chair for her.
He removed the covers and solicitously helped Julia to a portion of everything laid out before them. Julia took a sip of wine to steady her nerves and began to push the food around on her plate. She had never felt less like eating.
“Tell me about this ward of yours,” she said, hoping that it would sound only as if she were groping for a topic of conversation. She had tried her best to come up with some less obvious way of bringing it up, but she had not been able. She only hoped that the three glasses of wine he had drunk would already have made his reasoning less clear.
He looked faintly surprised, but said only, “Young Thomas, do you mean? I had forgotten that I’d mentioned him.”
“Not by name. You merely said that you visited him in Kent. I beg your pardon, I forgot—you said you were not really his guardian, but only his trustee.” She frowned and speared a green pea. “I am afraid that I do not entirely understand the difference.”
“I have no guardianship of his person. He lives with his mother. I merely administer a trust fund that his father set up for him. His father, Walter, and I were good friends.”
“Ah, I see. How sad that he should have died so young.” She thought it best not to concentrate entirely on the trust for fear of rousing his suspicions.
“Yes. A riding accident. Most unexpected and unfortunate. Especially for Thomas. He has no father, and neither I nor the other trustees live nearby. Only one did and he—well, he is dead now, too.”
Julia’s stomach knotted at the mention of her brother’s demise, but she managed to say in a normal voice, “How tragic. This seems an ill-fated story.”
“Yes, it was tragic. On all counts.”
“What happened to him?”
Stonehaven shook his head. “No, let’s not talk about such sad things tonight.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “I would much prefer to concentrate on something pleasant, like you.”
Julia could have screamed with frustration, but she forced herself to smile. “Indeed, you are right. This is not a night of gloom.” She picked up the wine bottle and refilled his almost empty glass. “We should be merry.”
He lifted his drink toward her in a toast, and she responded, clinking her glass against his. She took a sip. She had avoided drinking as much as she could, but in her nervousness, she had already downed two glasses. Since she had man
aged to eat almost nothing, she was beginning to feel woozy. She forced herself to eat a little, trying to think of a way to bring Stonehaven to talk about what she wanted him to. It did not seem wise to return directly to the subject of the trust for fear he would grow suspicious.
After they finished eating, they, too, took a turn through the gardens. “I suppose it is only fair to allow everyone to criticize us the way we did them,” Julia said, mask and cloak once again in place, as they strolled along the grassy thoroughfare between the boxes.
“I protest! We did other things than criticize. As I remember, there was a dress you coveted.”
“Ah, yes, the pink one. It was lovely. It would never do, however, for one with my color hair. That is a color that Ph—uh, that few people but blondes can wear.” She smiled at him, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her stumble.
How could she have slipped and almost said Phoebe! It was, she thought, that she was beginning to feel so used to Lord Stonehaven, so familiar with her role, that she was forgetting that she was playing a part. In fact, there were times when she found herself relaxing and being herself instead of trying to get information out of Stonehaven. Earlier this evening, for instance, when they had been watching the passing parade of people, she had enjoyed their banter and had been, for a brief period, just what she appeared to be: a young woman flirting with a man and taking pleasure in his company. The thought of it horrified her. How could she have forgotten, even for a few minutes, about Selby and what this man had done to him?
They reached the end of the promenade and took one of the small paths branching off from it. As they drew into the more secluded parts, it was brought home to Julia quite forcibly why Vauxhall Gardens was not a place a maiden went unless escorted by some responsible male. She saw a young woman being chased by an obviously inebriated man, but her shrieks were so playful, and she was laughing with such glee, that it was obvious she intended to be caught. In the shadow of a tree she saw another couple in a fervent embrace. It was clear that even without a private box one could find an ample number of places to be intimately alone here.