“Of course. I told you it might come in handy one day and so it has.” Deciding the tea had steeped long enough, Aunt Sophia took off the cozy and poured the steaming liquid into white teacups. “Drink your tea, dear, and then change for your outing. Wear that russet velvet habit. It looks magnificent with your coloring.”
Juliana was ready thirty minutes before Dominic arrived. She watched for him from her bedroom windows. She paused only briefly in front of her mirror to arrange the short-crowned hat more becomingly over her curls and smooth out the skirt of the matching habit before she went to the head of the staircase.
When Smithers admitted the marquis into the foyer, a slight rustle of her skirt caught his attention. He glanced up and saw her. She seemed to glow when the sunlight filtering through the high windows caught her, making her velvet habit gleam and shine with her every movement as she descended the staircase. He resisted an impulse to go to her and catch her in his arms. Instead he waited for her to cross the foyer and then raised her gloved hand quickly to his lips.
“I’m pleased to see you, Juliana. You look lovely today,” the trite conventional pleasantries he had mouthed to dozens of other women came easily to his lips.
Her smile was warm and sweet, as she had seldom given him, and he almost forgot his intentions. Almost. Rod had told him Sophia’s fondest hope was to see her niece happily settled. That was why he had to proceed very carefully if he was to help Sophia attain her goal. And what little honor remained to him demanded that he help Sophia in her quest for Juliana’s happiness. To be seen with the Marquis of Aubrey would bring Juliana’s credit high, indeed: as long as he was very careful that his attention was not too marked. Too much attention and she would be fuel for the gossip mill just as he was. He knew his world well, and had carefully considered how to promote Juliana’s interests. Somewhere in the ton there must be a man worthy of her, all she needed was to be brought to his notice. Freddie or Lord Edgemont, who seemed to be running tame in the house, were not quite fine enough, he had decided grimly.
Freddie had said Dominic’s horses were among the finest in London, and he had not exaggerated. Dominic rode his white Arabian stallion, Bucephalus. But for Juliana he had chosen a rich brown gelding with a proud carriage. She stroked its nose once before Dominic tossed her in the saddle.
“His name is Caesar and he is still fresh this morning,” Dominic warned.
Juliana hid a small smile while they rode through the streets to Hyde Park. Dominic could have no way of knowing that she had often risen at dawn to ride bareback and shoeless through the fields of Berkshire before her marriage to Will.
A curricle raced past, far too close to her gelding, and she steadied the frightened animal quickly, leaning over and whispering into his neck. She straightened when she felt the horse relax back into a brisk walk.
“That was well-done, Juliana.” Dominic gave her a breathtaking smile, which reached into his eyes deepening their color, drowning her in their depths. “You ride just as I knew you would.”
His words and his smile made her dizzy with joy. Her heart pounded like a drum and her stomach knotted into a tight bow. It was not right for her to feel this way about this man. She knew it was wrong, terribly wrong. Dominic appeared to be many things to many different people. But to Juliana Vane Grenville he must be only a man who, for reasons she did not understand, extended kindnesses to her, which she accepted gratefully. To her he must be a friend, nothing more.
They passed through the stone posts at the park’s entrance and turned down a bridle path that was still sparsely occupied. It was a bit early yet for the ton’s daily promenade. Dominic remained silent, and Juliana was grateful for the moments to relax and steady the uneven beat of her pulse. Her eyes roamed slowly over the park’s rolling green hills, tall copse of trees, and wide fountains, whose sprays of water sparkled like diamond chips in the sunlight. Across the gardens the scent of hundreds of flowers perfumed the air.
Her lips parted in a smile. “It really is quite lovely you know.”
He glanced around, an amused expression softening his face. “Is it? I must confess I haven’t taken note of it for years.” He looked at her, almost grimly, she thought. “You have a way of making me see things in a new light.”
The horses stopped, conspiring with the beauty of the park and the depth of sincerity in his voice to allow her to search his eyes.
He’s sincere, she thought. If only he would stay this way: gentle and tender. If only I could understand his moods.
When a rider approached, Juliana looked away suddenly, confused by the intangible connection she felt to the marquis, as if they had been communing without words.
Lord Edgemont checked his horse and embraced her in such a warm smile that Juliana felt sure she blushed. “You ride like a goddess, Juliana,” he effused, extending his hand to take her fingers. Peeling back her glove, he kissed her wrist lightly.
Embarrassment warred with a flash of triumph that Dominic should see that, at least in one quarter, she was a complete success. She quickly glanced up at him to gauge his reaction, but he appeared completely absorbed in flicking a speak of dust from his perfectly proportioned shoulder.
“Thank you, Lord Edgemont. You are very kind.” She laughed lightly, a little higher pitched than usual, a habit when she was nervous. His lordship’s rather intense pursuit, for she could think it nothing else when he had called every day this past week, was a bit unnerving. She was vastly relieved when Dominic gave him a cool nod and moved ahead so abruptly, with her gelding following, that Edgemont was forced to back up several paces and be left behind.
When Dominic finally slowed, she raised her eyebrows while he coolly inquired if she had wished to dally longer and perhaps have Edgemont join them.
“No.” Juliana drew her horse alongside his. “I am very much enjoying myself with just the two of us.”
“Good.” The warmth she had felt and responded to in the Blue Boar Inn was back for an instant caressing her. “Edgemont is right. You ride like Diana. I believe you might even be able to handle Bucephalus.”
Juliana was sure she went scarlet with pleasure. Such a compliment from an acclaimed rider like the Marquis of Aubrey was praise, indeed. And she admitted ruefully, any compliment from Dominic was precious. “Thank you, my lord. I do not believe I have ever been compared to a goddess twice in one day!”
Juliana’s light green eyes shone so brightly and her luscious cherry lips were curved in such a delicious smile that Dominic reached out to touch her flushed cheek, but a shrill female voice called his name, stilling his hand.
An open town carriage lacquered in red was stopped, blocking the path in both directions. Dominic and Juliana trotted carefully over to pay their respects to Lady Grenville and Charlotte.
As Dominic bent over her ladyship’s hand, awkwardly extended over the carriage side, Juliana exchanged a fond smile of welcome with Charlotte.
“Dominic, my boy, how wonderful to see you! I received your note this morning. I can’t tell you how happy it made me.” Lady Grenville’s full face actually seemed to glow with pleasure, reflecting the carriage upholstery—red with gold frogging. It matched her unfortunate choice of dress.
“Juliana, we haven’t heard from you and Sophia as yet. Do you join us?” Charlotte asked eagerly.
Juliana looked puzzled. “I am sorry, but I do not understand.”
Charlotte shot her mother a cool look before smiling up at her friend. “Your note must have gotten misplaced. We give a supper party at Vauxhall tomorrow evening. The marquis and Lord Rodney are joining us. I hope you and Sophia are free. Don’t we, Mama?”
“Of course, of course,” murmured Lady Grenville, merely favoring Juliana with a flick of her small, bulgy eyes. “I shall send another note around immediately.”
“Thank you, Lady Grenville. We shall look forward to it
,” Juliana said quietly, a slight color rising in her cheeks.
Dominic again had an absurd wish to reach out and touch her. Damn Lady Grenville! The old biddy had never sent the note and Juliana knew it.
“We must take our leave. The horses grow restless,” he said lazily moving away with a nod. He sensed that Juliana was eager to go on, and he had certainly had enough of Lady Grenville’s company, although she had given him another opportunity to further Sophia’s ambitions. Vauxhall with Juliana would fit nicely, all the young bloods would be there. By the end of the week she would be besieged with callers eager to follow in Aubrey’s footsteps. He had seen it happen time and time again. He refused to acknowledge that this thought did not give him the pleasure it should.
He looked at her profile, strength evident in the high cheekbones and fine brow, vulnerability peeping through in her rapidly fluttering eyelashes and slightly pouted mouth. “Charlotte Grenville seems to be quite an intrepid girl for one so young,” he offered blandly. Juliana relaxed her tight grip on the reins and her horse stopped fidgeting. She cast him a glance to see if he was mocking her, but he continued in the same bland tone, “With a Mama like that she must find a need for social facility.”
Juliana smiled in response and he laughed, absurdly pleased that he had been able to bring that curve of delight to her beautiful mouth. “Follow me to the canter.”
They took a side path, now little used, where they could let the horses go. Juliana was warned by only a side glance before he called, “Race me!” and their canter developed into a full-blown gallop. They were flouting convention by racing, but there was no one to witness their rackety behavior.
Juliana laughed, her hair tumbling from under her hat and her riding skirt billowing like a russet sail about her legs. Dominic’s horse seemed to tire and she surged ahead, tasting victory, but in an instant he shot past to win.
Her heart pounded in her ears and her breath was deep, straining her breasts tightly against her well-fitted jacket. Confusion washed over her when she reached Dominic’s side and felt his eyes touch her body and rise slowly to her face.
“Your hair looks magnificent falling about your shoulders, my dear, but it might be in our best interest if you were to pin it back up.” His voice was low and sweetened with amusement.
He reached over and took the reins from her numb fingers. Bucephalus snorted once, blowing gently at the gelding as the two horses nosed each other familiarly. Juliana raised her hands, twisted the fallen coils of hair up, and pushed them under the brim of her hat. The ride had cleared away the cobwebs of confusion and hurt that Lady Grenville had spun. Everything seemed clearer and brighter and easier to understand. Everything except the man before her.
Dominic’s gaze stilled her nervous hands and she lowered them slowly to her lap, her eyes searching his face seeking understanding. Slowly, a quiet contentment, a certainty of feeling filled her. Just like in the Blue Boar Inn garden, she could feel him reach out to her. Then he took one coil of hair, which still brushed her cheek, and curled it around his fingers.
“Your hair is like silk.” She could not breathe while his fingers played inside the curl, his mouth curving slowly at the corners. “I always knew it would feel like this.”
“Dominic, I…,” she stumbled, hardly recognizing the hoarse whisper as her own voice.
Slowly, he unwound the curl from his fingers and let the tips of them lightly trace the curve of her chin. “We should go back now, Juliana.”
She drew a deep, shuddering breath to control her disappointment as once again he shut the door between them. She would never comprehend this man. Just when she felt a breakthrough was imminent, he would withdraw. But this time, she strengthened her resolve. She would find a way to understand him. She had to try, for then she might understand this bond she felt between them.
He relinquished her reins and turned back toward the main thoroughfare.
“Thank you, my lord,” Juliana’s voice strengthened. “A canter was just what I needed.”
He turned to her with his practiced smile, but instantly his pure cornflower eyes were unreadable, and she was surprised to see his hands tighten and pull Bucephalus to a standstill. Caesar moved several steps forward before she pulled him up to cast a nervous glance over her shoulder.
Dominic sat perfectly still, the sunlight spinning a soft halo around his hair and etching clear shadows about his set lips, a haunted look draining all the life from his face.
What have I done now, Juliana wondered, and looked blindly around. All that was visible was a lone horseman. He would have stood out even on the crowded thoroughfare, though, for he was dressed completely in black, relieved only by a snowy cravat and long ruffles at his wrists. She felt curiously uneasy at his approach. Then she noticed the dark riband and eye patch that dominated the left side of his face. His mount drew nearer and passed her as if she were invisible.
The dark man stopped inches away from Dominic and stilled his horse, leaning slightly forward in his saddle. “Ah, The Marquis of Aubrey.” His right eyebrow lifted awaiting a response.
“What are you doing here, Jules?” Dominic asked in low, terse tones.
The dark horse shied, sensing the tension that swelled around them like gathering thunderclouds. Juliana controlled her own mount, which pranced uneasily in place, and held her breath, anticipating some monstrous action between the two adversaries. Old enemies, she judged, maybe the war.
“I’ve been to the Towers to visit their graces. Your grandparents were very welcoming.”
“I told you I never wanted you on my lands again!”
“Ah, but Dominic,” the sneer became more pronounced, “they are not your lands, yet. And the duke was delighted to see me.” He narrowed his eye and spoke very distinctly. “The old boy invited me to make the Towers my home for as long as I want.”
High-strung horses, held carefully in check, circled nervously, assessing each other as warily as the two men that sat them. Jules, in black, exuding practiced charm that couldn’t quite cover a menacing tone. Dominic, in buff and tan, dropping all pretense of conventional manners to threaten quite openly.
Juliana’s nerves tightened her hands. She prepared to thrust Caesar between the two, anything to break the ominous spell these men wove around each other. She knew she was completely forgotten as each stared unblinkingly into the other’s face.
“Stay away from the Towers, Jules. And stay away from my grandparents. That is my final word.” Dominic issued his challenge and Jules laughed softly. “We had an agreement. I expect you to abide by it!”
“Dominic, Dominic,” Jules shook his head disbelievingly. “That was so long ago. And we were so young. Circumstances have changed.”
Bucephalus surged forward and Dominic grabbed Jules’s reins, forcing his horse’s head around. “Nothing has changed!” Dominic bit out. “The agreement stands. Go back to France or wherever you’ve been.”
Jules reached out, plucking the reins from Dominic’s control, sidestepping his horse away from Bucephalus, and suddenly stopped, focusing upon Juliana for the first time.
“Charming. Utterly charming.” He drawled, then turned to Dominic as if expecting an introduction. When none was forthcoming, he smiled mockingly. “My brother has forgotten his manners, my dear. I am Jules Devereaux, the Comte de Saville.”
Juliana sat her horse in shock. Dominic had a brother! How could this be? “Juliana Grenville, monsieur.” She replied as manners demanded. What was going on now was no joyous reunion between brothers, but something quite different. Whatever it was between these two men made her shiver in fear for them.
Jules maneuvered his horse close enough to take her hand. He lifted it to his mouth for a polite kiss, but Dominic forced his horse between them, separating them.
“Don’t touch her!” His face was like frozen granite. “Come,
Juliana. It is time I returned you to your aunt.”
He whirled Bucephalus and, giving her no time for good-byes, urged their horses into a trot. Laughter echoed behind them.
“Dominic,” instinct urged her to speak. “I did not know you had a brother.”
“Half brother. His mother was a widow when she married my father. The only blood we share is hers.”
Chapter 7
Vauxhall was gaiety itself! The colored lanterns strung in the trees, supper boxes discreetly hidden in leafy bowers, and strolling musicians all contributed to the relaxation of society’s stringent rules. No wonder the ton adored an evening here!
Lady Grenville’s party was seated at a choice table, close in enough for excellent service yet allowing privacy. Still, there had been a growing disharmony throughout the evening. Eugenia had seated Charlotte between Jules and Dominic and, although adroit in the delicate handling of her mother’s faux pas, she definitely was not enough of a buffer for the two men. Juliana watched from across the table, seated protectively, and deliberately away from the eligible men, between Lord Rodney and Lord Grenville.
When the divertissement began after supper, Juliana was surprised that no one else seemed to notice how the air crackled between the two brothers. Although all could see that Dominic seethed with tension, apparently she alone recognized the strain Jules was under, for he appeared every bit the bored aristocrat, twirling his quizzing glass through his fingers. But though Jules seemed as absorbed in the port bottle as the other gentlemen of the party, Juliana had the oddest sensation that he was studying her.
Lady Eugenia’s domination of the conversation was so complete that the rest of the party had fallen into a nearly stupefied silence. So the disquieting feeling grew with no one able to divert the company toward a more pleasant outlook. It was foolish to slip away from the box during one of the intervals, but Juliana had to get away from Jules’s intense regard. And away from Dominic. He seemed so different tonight, not at all the pleasant companion of their ride in Hyde Park. Jules’s arrival as escort to Charlotte and her mother had seen to that.
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