by Lauren Royal
“Pardon?”
“One hundred nineteen divided by six is nineteen and five-sixths.”
“You did that without paper?”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“My younger daughter was like that,” Lady Avonleigh said. “She could do any calculation in her head.”
“Our mother was good at arithmetic, too,” Rachael said. “I expect Elizabeth inherited that ability from her.”
“Brains do tend to run in families.” Lady Stafford smiled toward Juliana. “Take my James, for instance. He’s just as bright as Aurelia’s daughter, who was his cousin.”
“Much older cousin,” Lady Balmforth pointed out.
“Yes. If she had lived, the poor dear, she’d have been a grandmother by now, I expect—unlike my James, who is currently of marriageable age.” Lady Stafford shot another smile to Juliana. “I was noticing at my dinner party, Lady Juliana, that the Duke of Castleton seems a mite reserved for a young lady of your enthusiasm.”
“Yes, the duke surely is reserved,” Juliana said distractedly, trying to figure out if they could make nineteen and five-sixths items at each party. “But that’s only to be expected, considering his lonely childhood. Did you know he was born in this house? His cruel uncle and aunt sold it and made him move. The thought of it quite breaks my heart.”
Seated beside Juliana, Rachael nudged her and leaned close to her ear. “I think Lady Stafford is hoping you’ll marry her son.”
Juliana wished things were different so she could. In fact, she wished so hard it made her grit her teeth. “Brilliant observation,” she said tightly under her breath, “but much as I like Lady Stafford, her son doesn’t love me. I’m marrying the duke. He’s very nice and he needs me.”
“I should think you’d rather have a husband who wants you,” Rachael whispered.
“He does want me. He told me he’s falling in love with me. He sends me roses. He dances with me at every event.”
“From about three feet away.”
It wasn’t the duke’s fault he was physically undemonstrative. He’d never known anything else. That was why he needed her.
Juliana’s stomach hurt. She turned away and raised her voice. “I cannot thank you enough for coming, Lady Avonleigh and Lady Balmforth. You’re both excellent seamstresses.”
“Our mother taught us both to sew,” Lady Balmforth said, “along with Cornelia, of course.”
Lady Avonleigh nodded. “Cornelia and Bedelia didn’t have daughters, but I followed tradition and taught mine to sew. My younger daughter was quite artistic and especially good with a needle.”
Juliana and Rachael turned toward Lady Stafford expectantly. She didn’t disappoint them. “My son is good with a needle, too. He does excellent sutures.”
The cousins shared a smile, but Juliana’s faded. “Do you think that together we can finish nineteen and five-sixths items this afternoon?”
“Twenty,” Elizabeth said. “It’s close enough to call it twenty.”
“Of course. Do you think we can finish twenty? Twelve of us?”
“Of course,” Corinna echoed. “We did twenty-three on Monday, remember? Without Ladies A and B.”
Ladies A and B smiled, their needles flashing.
“Those were all clouts,” Juliana said. “Not frocks, coats, caps, and the like, which are more complicated and take much longer.”
Alexandra rubbed her belly, even though it still looked flat. “We can finish twenty pieces, even if they’re more difficult,” she said soothingly. “We’ll just stay later, until we’re done.”
“We can’t,” Amanda said. “Juliana and your aunt and I are leaving at five to go to Chelsea Physic Garden, and we’ll need time to ready ourselves first.”
“Chelsea Physic Garden?” Claire looked up from the little frock she was sewing. “What’s that?”
“Some garden for doctors,” Juliana said. “James thinks Amanda will like it.”
Rachael tied off a thread. “You call him James?”
“Lord Stafford,” Juliana gritted out, “said Chelsea Physic Garden is very peaceful.”
“My son knows exactly what women enjoy,” Lady Stafford said. “He’s taken me to the garden in Chelsea, and it’s lovely.”
Reaching for a spool, Rachael leaned closer to Juliana. “So tell me about James,” she whispered.
“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 gentleman 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 someone expecting to change him, 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 husband who likes 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. He might like kissing her, but he’d never love her.
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.
THIRTY-EIGHT
AS JAMES WAS leaving that evening, his mother 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—their outing to 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 explains 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 fellow 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 cook 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 a turd, James thought for the umpteenth time.
Lady Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. “Neither do I,” she said and joined the turd.
“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 didn’t want to sit 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 turd and his companion, then lowered himself to the blanket by Juliana.
“What is the purpose of the garden?” Lord Malmsey asked.
James swallowed a mouthful of bread before speaking. “Doctors and apothecaries can visit to take cuttings of medicinal plants. But mostly it’s used for educational and training purposes. Medical and apothecary students visit 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. He bought the garden later, when the Society of Apothecaries was at risk of losing it. He 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 as 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 the turd.
“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 shook her golden head as she watched them walk off. “I cannot believe it,” she said when they were out of earshot.
James drained the rest of his wine and started packing up the remains of their dinner. “You cannot believe what?”
She frowned up at him. “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 to James. After many hours of observation and analysis, he had finally puzzled out the mystery of Juliana’s changeable irises: They were more blue when she was happy or excited, more green when she was worried or angry. Right now it wasn’t hard to tell that she was rather distressed.
But the distress was a good sign. It wouldn’t be long now before she figured out she didn’t belong with Castleton. And if the evening went as planned, James would be turning her eyes back to blue before long.
“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 turd had gone, James led Juliana along a path in the opposite direction, which, happily, was the direction he wanted to take her anyway. Trees lined both sides of the meandering gravel walkway, their leaves 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 another dress made of thin, fine fabric, and with the sun setting, it was getting a bit chilly. “Maybe they’re in the greenhouse,” he suggested, leading her off the path. “They might have gone inside to warm up.”
“It is warm in here,” she said when they entered. Due to the abundance of glass, it was nearly as bright inside as out.
“I understand this was the first heated greenhouse in all of England,” he told her. “Maybe the first in the whole world.” He led her between the rows of plants toward the back wall. “Dr. Sloane wrote about the clever design of this greenhouse back in 1684. There are 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 turned pink. “That’s because she wants to marry you.”
He reached again for the knob. “Maybe your aunt and Lord Malmsey are in there,” he suggested, “kissing.”
She pulled on his hand again. “I don’t think—” she began, and then she gave a little yelp when he opened the door.
Smiling, he stepped inside. “They’re not in here. Come in and see, lo—”
Bother. He’d almost called her love 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.” Actually, he might mind. But he’d never find out. James tugged on her hand. “Come on.”
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. 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, though plenty of light filtered in through the leaves and the glass ceiling overhead.
He shut the door, shutting them in together.
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 now 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 breathed in her sunshine-and-flowers scent and admired the light bouncing off her wheaten hair. He let his shoulder brush against her arm and watched her eyes turn a little bluer.
“Are you listening, James? Did you get all of that?”