Recoiling from Jules, Dominic stood. “I could even have accepted mother’s lovers if I hadn’t discovered the real truth. The sins of the parents are visited upon their children. Are they not … brother? We are our mother’s sons … you proved that to me.”
“Am I the excuse for the life you have led the past ten years?” Jules forced his voice to calmness, although he wished to take Dominic and shake him. He had not fully realized how badly scarred his brother had become. Perhaps he had waited too long.
“You are well informed.” Dominic’s smile was not pleasant. “But I must confess, I have not yet sunk to your depths. Although tonight I made a damn good start!”
All emotion drained from Dominic’s face and Jules found he could not meet those eyes, although he could not escape his brother’s words.
“Tonight I discovered I am nearly as despicable as you. You see, it does run in the family, after all.”
Chapter 8
Juliana pirouetted once in front of the glass, her mauve-figured silk empire gown swirling delicately over the tips of mauve kid slippers. Anticipation colored her cheeks. Tonight’s musicale at Lady Atwood’s would surely command Dominic’s presence. After two days of trying to avoid him, it had been particularly vexing to realize he was nowhere she was. Then at Marcham’s Ball, when he had devoted all his attentions to Dora Stanwood, she had been forced to recognize that she meant nothing more than any other woman to him.
The gossips had been quick to whisper of his latest flirt and Lady Grenville had pursed her thin lips, arched her eyebrows, and clucked “Just so”, so often than Juliana had retired early with a headache.
Although she admitted to herself that she had fallen in love with Dominic, she was determined not to give herself away. After all, she had Edgemont and Freddie; even Jules had been paying her marked attention. She would enjoy the Season as best she could while trying to untangle her feelings for Dominic.
A soft knock at her door announced Aunt Sophia, who poked her head in. “Juliana, my dear, you look delightful. But we must hurry. Rodney says the crowds are gathering across the square already to gape. And our coachman will have some to negotiate all this traffic.”
“Coming, Aunt.” Juliana threw the dove gray cape edged in ermine over her shoulders and pulled on mauve elbow-length kid gloves as they descended the staircase.
On their arrival, Rodney escorted Sophia and Juliana, one on each arm, along the length of the Atwood’s mirrored ballroom, opened this evening to accommodate the crowd.
“Tout le monde est ici,” Lady Atwood fluttered affectedly. “So sorry I was called away from the door before you arrived, but Casper is decidedly absent. The Pignotti’s voice does not appeal to him so he’s taken the Duke of Clarence, Mortimer D’Espry, and Lord Monmouth to the library for cards.”
Rodney seemed to brighten momentarily, but Aunt Sophia sent him a speaking glance and he subsided.
“Ah well,” he muttered. “I’ve always enjoyed the Pignotti, I suppose.”
Freddie crossed the floor, took Lady Atwood’s hand and lifted it elegantly to his lips for a fleeting kiss. “Charming, as always,” he drawled, evoking a muffled giggle from Juliana. He turned and made her an elegant leg.
“Don’t try your airs with me, Freddie Liscombe,” Juliana hissed.
“You dampen all pretensions, my dear.” He turned her away from the others and then in a conspiratorial whisper he continued, “Come with me to the dining room. The lobster pastries are nearly all gone and the footman frowned at me when I went back the last time.”
“How many have you had, Freddie?” Juliana questioned merrily.
“Only six. If you’re with me, we can pretend you want some.”
“But I do, Freddie!” she protested. Being with Freddie was like being with George, she could relax and enjoy all the company around her. When they entered the dining room, she caught sight of the dark visage of Jules and immediately her hand tightened on Freddie’s arm. Perhaps if she knew the source of the anger between Jules and his brother she might understand Dominic.
“I promise I won’t eat them all, Juliana,” Freddie declared, obviously thinking her sudden grip on his arm was her attempt to stop him from reaching for another lobster pastry.
“No need for concern, Freddie. I’ve quite lost my taste for them. However, a glass of orangeade would be delightful.”
With a quick bow, Freddie wove his way through the crush, but not before he had filched another pastry. Juliana smiled at his retreating back and continued to smile, although it was a bit strained, when Edgemont suddenly stepped in front of her. He appeared quite anxious.
“My dear Juliana, I must speak to you immediately concerning something of the gravest import.” “Edgemont, this is such a sad crush. Certainly not the place to discuss anything of import,” she soothed, eager to avoid any lengthy discussion with this determined suitor. “You may call on me tomorrow.”
His face flushed a deep crimson and his military stance became even more rigid. “Madam, it cannot wait until tomorrow. I must speak to you now.” Juliana lifted her chin to deliver a set-down, when over his shoulder she saw Dominic, his golden head haloed by candlelight, his wonderful face radiating mirth, and clinging to his blue velvet covered arm was Dora Stanwood.
“My dear Juliana,” Edgemont reiterated. “If you would but give me a few moments of your time. Allow me to remove you from this shocking squeeze.”
Yes, away from the sight of Dominic gazing down into Dora’s lovely face. Away from the look in Dora’s eyes. Is that how I look when I’m gazing at Dominic … my eyes full of longing and desire.
So she did not protest when Edgemont placed her hand on his sleeve and purposefully moved through the throng. Not until it became suddenly much quieter did she quickly remove her hand and glance around. A latch clicked shut behind her and she twirled to face Edgemont, who was smiling, leaning against the door. They were in a small dimly lit antechamber.
To her horror he fell to his knees, his hand groping toward her. She stepped back, but he did not stop, instead he inched forward on his knees.
“Lord Edgemont, please,” she pleaded, backing slowly away from his awkward pursuit.
Finally she reached a small settee and fell into its depths. Edgemont’s advance brought his hand to her knee.
“My dearest, dearest,” he murmured. “Surely my regard for you has not escaped your notice.”
She twitched her knees away. Pressing her palms to suddenly heated cheeks, she shook her head. “My lord! Please rise from that position. I…”
“I know it must seem unbelievable that I could be on my knees to anyone, but, Juliana … may I dare … I wished to show you my great regard…”
“No, my lord…”
“I wished to follow the correct form,” he continued without pause. “Always, I do things the correct way.”
Juliana’s horror had turned to a lively sense of the ridiculous. Perhaps it was just as well to let the man finish, for it seemed nothing she could say would stop him.
“And I am reliably informed,” he droned on, “that bending the knee is the proper position for a proposal of marriage.”
The door swung wide and Juliana looked up with concern. The interruption should stop Edgemont, but she hated to have him caught by anyone like this. Framed in the doorway, blotting out the hallway beyond, stood Dominic.
Juliana’s sense of the ridiculous fled. Mortified beyond words, she could only sit, stunned while Edgemont rose to his feet protesting this invasion of privacy.
Dominic turned slightly. “You see, my dear,” he said clearly, “even people of the first respectability use these chambers for a … respite from the crowd. Unfortunately,” his lips curled into a sneer, “this one is already occupied.”
Dora peeped around the corner and dimpled coyly. “It appea
rs we may have interrupted a conversation of import.”
“Ah, Juliana, there you are.” Jules entered the room and extended his hand. “Your aunt sent me to fetch you.”
He pulled her to her feet and escorted her past a sputtering Edgemont to the doorway, where briefly she met Dominic’s icy blue stare.
“I’m sure you all will excuse us,” the Comte purred softly.
Gratefully, Juliana allowed Jules to lead her back into the lights and noise of the Atwood musicale, still wondering at his timely appearance.
“I am sorry I did not arrive sooner, but Lady Sefton waylaid me.”
Her eyes flew to his face. “But how did you know I needed rescuing?”
“Your thoughts were obviously elsewhere or you never would have allowed Edgemont to maneuver you into that tiny antechamber. Which, of course, is for the sole purpose of clandestine meetings.”
“No wonder Dominic was bringing Dora there,” she fumed aloud.
He led her to a choice seat near Aunt Sophia. “Yes, one never knows what truly motivates my younger brother. You, of all people, should realize that.” He smiled enigmatically into her stunned face.
Then his gaze lifted across the entire width of the ballroom. Involuntarily Juliana followed that gaze and saw Dominic glowering at them from his position at the windows.
She felt confused by Jules’s attentions, as if in some unknown way she was being disloyal to Dominic. But he was a decided comfort, and it was reassuring to have such an eligible party take her up in such a particular way. She knew, deep in her heart, that Jules had no romantic feeling for her, but she refused to believe he was using her as an instrument of revenge. She felt she could trust her judgment at least that far. Edgemont seemed to have disappeared for the rest of the evening, but Freddie, mercifully, appeared to lead her in for the Pignotti’s recital. She understood Lord Atwood’s preference for the card room when the piercing high notes caused goose bumps to raise on her arm.
She turned to Freddie to share her amusement and found he was lost in rapt admiration of the singer. Shaking her head slightly, there was no accounting for taste, she scanned the music room. Her eyes caught and held Dominic’s and for a moment they shared that odd sense of understanding.
Then she noticed Lord Monmouth beckon to him. All of her pleasure in the evening disappeared through the doorway with him.
Juliana opened her eyes to the sound of rain against her window. It was early for there were no sounds of household activity and no one had as yet knocked at her door with morning chocolate. Not wishing to go back to sleep, she sat up, plumping her pillows and settling against them.
Between the gap of her window curtains she could see the trees bent with the wind, sending raindrops swirling through the air. It was a dreadful day, a day to sit in front of a cozy fire with someone.
She couldn’t help herself today, any more than she could any morning for the past week, from thinking of Dominic. She imagined several delightful scenes where Dominic came begging her forgiveness before sweeping her up in his arms, declaring that he loved her and raining his marvelous kisses about her person. These were childish daydreams, she knew. It was better that he had stayed away, for it had given her time to come to grips with the love she felt for him.
Sitting up, she pushed back the bedcovers. She hadn’t decided what her best course was to be yet, but she would simply stop thinking about him and keep herself very, very busy about the house.
That afternoon Juliana interrupted a heated conversation between her aunt and Lord Rodney in the parlor.
“Oh dear,” Juliana said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I thought you’d be in the morning room as usual.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Aunt Sophia smiled. “Rodney and I are only having a small discussion, aren’t we dear?”
Lord Rodney looked into his teacup as if wishing it to be the devil. He suddenly stood with a determined look on his face. Juliana was surprised to discover that he was actually getting thinner.
“No, we were not having a small discussion. We were having our first disagreement. And it concerns you, Juliana.”
“Me!” She glanced at her aunt who was gazing at Rodney’s purposeful stance, a curious smile hovering about her mouth.
“How masterful, dear, I’m quite impressed.”
“Damn it, Sophia! I mean it. You are coming to Culter Towers with Dominic and me. Their graces are eager to meet you.”
Again Juliana looked from her aunt, calmly sitting on the couch, to Lord Rodney, who had begun to pace about the room. She sank down next to Sophia trying to interpret the meaning of this strange pronouncement.
“Of course, you must go, Aunt Sophia. How exciting for you!”
Her aunt looked at her in surprise. “I can’t possible leave you here alone. How could you even think it?”
Smiling complacently, Rodney rocked back on his heels. “No need for worry, my dear. I have the solution, Juliana shall come with us.”
“What an excellent idea,” Sophia said eagerly, casting an adoring look at his lordship.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly…” She stopped when two pairs of determined eyes stared at her. Then she attempted to go on. “I am honored, of course, to meet the Duke and Duchess of Culter, but … George … I couldn’t possibly leave before George even arrives in town.”
As if on cue the parlor doors were flung open.
“Master George!” Smithers announced loudly.
“Cut line, Smithers,” her brother said, grinning. “They know who I am.”
“George!” Juliana and Sophia chorused at once, before both rushed forward to fall about his neck.
“Good God, you’re both strangling me,” he laughed merrily, placing loud kisses on both their cheeks before untangling himself to make a formal bow to Rodney.
“Your servant, sir. I am George Vane.”
Gliding over to his lordship, Aunt Sophia placed a light hand on his arm. “George, dear, I’d like you to meet Lord Rodney Crawford. My betrothed.”
George’s mouth dropped open but he quickly recovered. “Aunt Sophia, I don’t know what to say.”
“Wish me happy.” Laughing, Sophia flung out her arms and George gathered her in a warm embrace. She looked at Juliana, whose evident confusion delighted her.
“So that’s what this is all about. I should have guessed. Aunt Sophia, I’m so happy for you.”
George stood back measuring Lord Rodney for just an instant before extending one hand to him. “Sir, you are a fortunate man.”
Juliana, charmed by the proud look on Lord Rodney’s face, was gratified to hear him answer, “I know I am, my boy. Can’t quite believe my good fortune myself!”
“Please, you will both put me to the blush,” laughed Sophia, steering George to the master wing chair facing the fireplace. “I’m sure you need something to wash the dust from your throat. Juliana, will you ring for Bella. We all could use some tea.”
“I’m sure George would like some brandy,” Juliana retorted. She crossed to the bellpull and tugged, sending the silent message to the kitchens that Bella was summoned. As she passed George’s chair, she leaned down to drop a kiss upon his rich auburn curls.
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips, a twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, how I’ve missed my beautiful sister. I trust I’ve not lost you to cupid’s arrow just yet, have I?”
Carefully avoiding Aunt Sophia’s eyes, Juliana smiled slowly. “Of course not, my dear, you are still stuck with me.”
“So, George, you know about the pl … huh!” sputtered Rodney as Sophia trod heavily upon his foot.
“Sorry, my dear, I was reaching for my shawl,” Sophia said serenely, placing it about her shoulders. “Yes, George, we are enjoying the Season. But we plan to be away for a few weeks at Culter Towers visiting Rodne
y’s parents, the duke and duchess. We hope you and Juliana will join us.”
Before her brother could respond, Juliana laughed lightly, placing her hands lovingly upon his shoulders. “George has only just arrived, Aunt Sophia. We don’t want to rush him away from town before he can sample its pleasures.”
Twining his fingers through hers, George looked up at her. “Actually, Juliana, you’re right. Wouldn’t mind cards at White’s.”
“White’s! Delighted for you to be my guest…” Rodney glanced warily at Sophia’s slipper moving dangerously close to his boot again. “Let’s take in White’s. If you’re not too tired from your journey.”
Sophia sprang up. “How delightful for you, George. You know how you love your cards.”
Before Juliana quite realized what was happening, Aunt Sophia was maneuvering both men from the parlor. “Yes, you mustn’t miss this opportunity, George. Juliana and I shall stay at home this evening and have a light supper.” Peeking back into the parlor, Sophia’s face glowed. “You see, Juliana,” she whispered. “The plan is working.”
After seeing Aunt Sophia settled in her room with a light supper, Juliana wandered through the downstairs rooms, absentmindedly touching a few treasured pieces: the Sevres vase her mother had received as a betrothal gift, the ormolu clock her grandfather supposedly won in a wager over a horse race, the Faberge egg an adventuring great-uncle had brought back from his travels. She stopped in front of the Reynolds portrait of her father hung prominently over the parlor fireplace.
“Well Papa,” she whispered to the laughing man whose hand rested on his favorite hound, “I’ve brought George here at last. Maybe he’ll learn to enjoy life a little more while we’re here … maybe we all will.”
She turned and lit the candle at the fireside chair, then settled into it. Lord Rodney had taken George to White’s for the evening, and she had sent a messenger declining Edgemont’s card party, so for once, she faced a quiet evening alone.
The Rake's Redemption Page 13