She was rewarded by a beaming smile and a constantly chattering tongue. During Juliana’s bath she learned that Mary had just finished her training and she was her first lady, that Mary had seven brothers and sisters on one of the home farms, that Ma was poorly after the last baby, so all the older kids had gone into service to help out “exceptin” Thomas. Master Dominic got him into the navy as a cabin boy to a ol’ school friend, Master Dominic says will look after him. “Imagine that!”
Juliana sat in front of the fire pulling a silver brush through her damp curls, smiling and nodding occasionally to encourage the young maid, but her mind was stayed on Dominic and the secret she would have to coax her aunt to share.
“Ooh, miss. This would be ever so pretty with your hair.” Mary was holding up a jade green satin evening gown Juliana had never worn. “And real proper for dinner tonight. Her Grace always dresses every so grand. Even when it’s just her and the duke. She’ll be a right proper duchess with a house party and all.”
When Juliana had rested, been dressed in the shimmering evening gown, and had her hair becomingly styled by an unexpectedly talented Mary, she went in search of her aunt. She stood outside Sophia’s room looking up and down the corridor, feeling rather foolish hovering about, but she could hear voices from the bedchamber, and what she had to ask Aunt Sophia required privacy.
At last the door opened, but it was not the maid leaving. Aunt Sophia, resplendent in a cream silk gown with a gold satin overskirt, sailed out, followed by Lord Rodney.
“Juliana!” gasped Sophia, caught unaware. She looked radiant. There was a new light in her eyes and in Rodney’s.
He immediately placed an arm about Sophia’s shoulders. “You startled us, my dear Juliana,” he began with great dignity. “I have just had the honor of presenting the Crawford betrothal ring to your aunt.”
With a wide smile, Sophia held out her hand upon which she now wore a huge emerald surrounded by a blaze of diamonds. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Tears misted Juliana’s eyes. “Lovely,” she breathed, before kissing both on their cheeks. “I’m so happy that you two have found each other again.”
Rodney offered an arm to Juliana while holding out his hand to Sophia. “What luck to be escorting the two loveliest ladies here to dinner.”
They entered the drawing room where the duke and duchess awaited their guests. Rodney drew Sophia to the large wing chair and again formally presented her. Juliana watched the interplay carefully, searching for signs of disapproval, but could see none. The duchess, dressed in black silk with diamonds sparkling at her throat, ears, and wrists, welcomed Sophia openly and warmly. She lifted one eyebrow and spoke Rodney’s name in a tone that must have caused terror in the schoolroom.
He immediately lifted Sophia’s hand so the blaze of diamonds and emeralds could reflect the light.
Her Grace appeared relieved. “Ah, I see this will be a celebration dinner!” She beckoned to Rodney and he leaned down to receive a congratulatory kiss.
“I shall do my best to make him happy, Your Grace,” Sophia remarked solemnly.
“I have no doubt you will succeed.” Turning a stern eye to her youngest son, she studied him from the tips of his evening slippers to the top of his carefully combed dark curls. “He already looks better than he has in years. I believe he has even been able to give up his corse…”
“Rodney, my boy! We are delighted for you!” the duke interrupted. “I never thought to have such a beautiful daughter.” He cupped Sophia’s face in his hands as if she were a young girl. She responded with her particularly appealing smile. “Enchanting,” he murmured before kissing her cheek.
“Grandfather always arrives in the nick of time,” whispered Dominic, his breath softly stirring Juliana’s curls. “Remember, I told you Mrs. Forbes’s outspoken ways reminded me of my own grandmother.”
When had he come in? She’d been so engrossed in Rodney and Sophia, she hadn’t felt his presence. She turned slowly to face him. The candlelight lit golden and red highlights in his hair and cast intriguing shadows across the planes of his face. He was smiling at her, the first real smile in days, and she forced her breath to remain steady.
“I remember it well, Dominic. As I do all our meetings … although some have been more memorable than others.”
Now, why had she said that—for the satisfaction of seeing surprise flicker through his eyes? Perhaps he’d forgotten Vauxhall, when for once he hadn’t denied his need for her, but she never would. It had been a turning point for her, and now she very much feared all her happiness depended on him.
She shouldn’t have reminded him. Dominic’s eyes, that had sparkled with vitality, went curiously blank and the closeness of the moment before was gone.
“Tonight should be memorable, for we’ve discovered we shall soon be cousins,” he said lightly. Then he looked at Rodney and Sophia accepting hearty congratulations from George and Charlotte. “He appears to be very happy tonight. I hope he remains that way.”
Before she could answer, he walked away. Frustrated, she wanted to follow. Why should he question Rodney and Sophia’s happiness? Why did every attempt to bring him closer just push him farther away? He had approached Lady Grenville, and Juliana was reluctant to confront her until she had learned more about her mysterious statement in the carriage.
Dearborne, the butler, announced dinner. Dominic offered his arm to Charlotte—a gesture that drew warm smiles from his grandmother and her mother, but thoughtful frowns from George and the duke.
Although the vaulted ceiling of the great dining hall cast dark shadows, the room had a festive air. A large fire blazed in the hearth and two six-branched candelabra lit the long, polished table. Candles burned on the mantel and on the sideboard from which Dearborne supervised the serving of their dinner.
By the time the company had sampled potage St. Germaine, the fruits de mer platter, and started on the rack of veal, Juliana was wishing for her room. She had the unenviable position in the middle of the table, flanked by George and Lady Grenville, and facing Lord Grenville. She envied her aunt the position at the duke’s right, for laughter could be heard often at their end of the table. No one ignored her precisely, but most often she suffered through Lady Grenville’s boring monologue. Juliana now knew all of Lady Grenville’s connections to the Crawfords, the age and partial history of the Towers, even the size of the stone in the heir’s betrothal ring, which she made sure Juliana realized was larger and more valuable than the one presented to Aunt Sophia.
Lady Grenville had smirked when relating this little tidbit and cast an indulgent eye at Charlotte who was leaning eagerly across the table to talk to George. “Normally,” she informed Juliana, “Charlotte would be taken to task for this indiscretion, but since this a family party, strict social rules can be relaxed somewhat.”
And Juliana mused, it was an opportunity for Charlotte to display her interest in and knowledge of country matters. In fact, she and George were discussing the merits of draining the east four hundred acres near the creek, which divided the Park from the Willows. Never before had she realized how much they had in common.
At least they were enjoying themselves! If Sir Alfred hadn’t been directly across from her, she would have parted the flower arrangement to begin a new conversation, but with him it would do no good—she had never heard him offer an opinion on anything, and Lady Grenville would probably answer her anyway.
She could not see Jules, but she could sometimes hear snatches of his charming banter with the duchess. Only Dominic seemed to share her discomfort. Every time she glanced his way, which was more often than she should, he was wearing that blank look, or worse, a frown. Sometime tonight she must talk to Aunt Sophia. Perhaps if she knew more about this secret, she could find the right direction to reach through the barriers he’d built around himself.
The duchess rose g
racefully, waggling her fingers at Sophia. “Come, my dear, we’ll have a comfortable coze while the gentlemen tell their stories.” She waited until Lady Grenville had ponderously risen from her chair, still wiping the remains of the last sweet from her fingers, then led all the ladies into the music room across the hall. At a speaking glance from her mother Charlotte went straight to the pianoforte and exclaimed over it.
“Please feel free to play, Charlotte. It is always delightful to have music after dinner.” The Duchess settled onto the settee, inviting Lady Grenville and Sophia to join her.
Juliana wandered toward the doors overlooking a flagstone terrace. She opened one a crack and breathed in the sweetness of the summer evening. Grateful for a few moments of peace, she collected herself before the men joined them and she would be faced with Dominic’s intrusive presence. Everything reflected him—a snatch of conversation would remind her of words they had shared; the duke would smile and she’d see Dominic’s mouth laughing. She longed to share in the atmosphere of love and security that surrounded Rodney and Sophia, yet knew her own unhappiness barred the way. She felt so alone.
Jules had befriended her in London, but he was no help here. He hung back from the party, almost as if he were waiting for something. Dominic’s brooding presence filtered into all her thoughts, compelling her to look at him, but he would always turn away. Then she’d turn to Jules’s face to find he was watching them. There was nothing there to help her.
The slight breeze lifted a curl at the back of her neck and she turned to watch Sophia. The duchess was happily explaining Crawford wedding traditions. She sighed. Jules had certainly misled her. There hadn’t been a sign that Sophia was resented or unwelcome. Juliana needn’t have come. She could have stayed in London and spared herself.
Footsteps in the hallway roused the duchess to ring for tea. Discouraged and in no mood to deal with Dominic, Juliana signaled to Aunt Sophia that she was going out to the garden for a few moments. She slipped through the doorway and out onto the terrace as the men entered the room.
Walking down a crushed rock path through carefully designed flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges, she could feel the tension drain out of her. The path turned and she decided to follow it to the end. A small cul-de-sac held a marble statue of a shepherd with a lamb curled in sleep at his feet. She sat on the bench and gently ran a finger over the lamb’s head. The stone felt cold. Madame Bretin’s lovely gown was not practical for walking in the cool of an English night. She shivered and placed her palms over her bare shoulders.
“Shall I fetch your shawl?” A deep male voice spoke from the shadows.
She gasped in surprise when Dominic stepped out into the moonlight. A trembling started in the region of her stomach and threatened to overpower her. Now that she was finally alone with him again, the first time since Vauxhall, she was consumed with uncertainty. Follow her heart … she dare not be so bold.
“Thank you, no, I am quite comfortable,” she replied softly, folding her trembling hand into the pleats of her evening gown.
He looked at her bent head, the shadow between her breasts, and, as always, he felt the urge to touch her. Instead he sat on the bench beside her. For a few moments he could sit with her in the peace of this lovely night.
Perhaps, he would even find the words he needed to explain that night at Vauxhall. He had seen the confusion and hurt in her eyes and somehow he must remove that look. For Juliana’s sake, they needed to talk about what had happened between them. Then they both could forget it. The fault had been his. He had lost control, as if he were a lovesick boy. But tonight he had not drunk too much. Tonight he was in control. Tonight it would be all right to sit close like this for just a few moments more.
“We seem to meet in out of the way places, Juliana. You should be more careful where you stroll alone.”
Her head came up abruptly, the look of pain and confusion again in her eyes.
“You have not made it easy for me to thank you … regardless of what occurred between us … I owe you much for finding me that night.”
“You owe me nothing.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “I shouldn’t have touched you that night. You’re too fine, too perfect…” He caught himself. “I do apologize for my advances. Please forgive me.”
Her eyes looked at him in mute appeal.
What did she want from him? To be here in the garden at his own home with her was a fantasy. He never would have believed it could happen, yet here she was and he found he could not bear it. Abruptly he stood to go.
“Dominic,” she reached a trembling hand toward him and stood so that they were close. So very close that her scent filled his senses.
She’s still cold, he told himself, the trembling means she’s cold. Yet he could not resist taking her gently into his arms, even though he knew it was wrong.
“You’re cold, my dear. We should go in.”
Her trembling had transferred itself to him. They stood together for an eternity before he shifted her slowly in his arms so that he could bring his lips down onto her soft mouth. He had to do it. Just one more time he had to feel her melt into his embrace. Fingers gently molding her arms, he kissed her again. A soft sigh, a sweet breath released into his mouth. His kiss hardened and his arms moved lower to encircle her waist.
He was a lovesick boy! Carefully he put her away from him, separating their bodies. If he didn’t stop now, he would carry her into the nearest flower bed and love her as he had been longing to do since they first met.
“We had best return to the others, Juliana. We shall be missed.” He had to protect her from himself. As much as he longed to stay out here in the starry night with her, honor demanded that he return to the safety of the house immediately.
She was dreaming. Dominic wasn’t really here. It was just a dream she had concocted sitting alone in the night. She reached her hand to his cheek and was surprised when he backed away. What had she done now?
He offered her his arm politely and drew her back down the path toward the house. Her fingers rode lightly over his muscle; it was clenched as if a great struggle was going on within him. They both were silent and too soon the lights from the house were visible.
All the party was gathered around the tea tray except George, who was choosing music for Charlotte to resume playing. Jules turned first at their entrance, a glint of steel in his face. He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.
Sophia’s artless laugh filled the room. “Did you enjoy your walk in the garden? Rodney tells me the grounds here are lovely,” she turned to the duchess, “and all to your design.”
Lady Grenville opened her mouth but the duke, again, intervened. “Dominic, my boy. I wish to discuss Bristol’s and Monmouth’s plan for you to join the House of Lords. Wonderful idea, don’t you think?”
Juliana smiled at the duke’s eager face before turning to Dominic. Swallowing hard, she willed her heartbeat to slow down. “Thank you for the tour of the garden,” she said quite distinctly. “All that fresh air has tired me, I believe I’ll go up to my room now.”
She wanted to be alone to savor the miracle. Dominic had kissed her again. Surely everyone in the room could see it plainly on her face.
Suddenly he stepped to block her path, bending toward her. “Not too tired to ride with me tomorrow.” He spoke so softly that only she could hear. “I promise you a horse worthy of your talent, sired by Bucephalus.”
She was unable to resist his conspiratorial whisper, and the light she saw in his eyes sent shivers of excitement through her. “I’d love to ride with you.”
“Ten o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Juliana slipped out before Lady Grenville could corner her. The tall clock was chiming softly in the hall as she mounted the steps to her chamber. Never before had she felt so many conflicting emotions. Glorious, wonderful delight! He had kissed her again. I
t was really quite simple. She loved him, when he was with her all was perfect. And he had invited her to ride with him alone. Maybe here at his home, away from the city, he would tell her what had been troubling him. Maybe tomorrow they could resolve all that stood between them. She felt no shame that she desired him so, so much that there in the garden she would have been willing to lie with him among the flowers, if he had asked her. Whatever fear or convention had stopped her at Vauxhall would not stop her again. She was sure of it, sure at last of the rightness of her love for Dominic.
Drifting off to sleep, she remembered Mrs. Forbes. I’m doing it … I’m following my heart … where will it all lead?
The hall clock chimed twelve times and, sighing, Dominic turned away from the windows. Why had he asked her to ride alone with him? Was he trying to prove that he could do the decent thing? That he could be a congenial host. In the daylight it would be easier to be with her—to explain that his high regard for her would remain just that. It could lead to nothing else a gently bred lady might expect. He could not reach out to Will Grenville’s young wife.
Regret for the last ten years darkened his thoughts. Regret for what he had allowed himself to become. Jules, at least, had been right in that.
His hand holding the candlesnuffer shook slightly and he laid it down, the candle still burning. Jules. The brother he had once loved above all others and trusted above all others, until the night he had discovered just how corrupt his family had become. Oh yes, he had tried to eradicate the memory with his own shocking behavior. Jules had called him a fool. Perhaps he had been a young fool, but at eighteen there had seemed to be no other course open to him. Now it was too late.
His course had been chosen. His mind was made up. The pain he felt when he looked at Juliana was nothing to the pain he’d endured for years. His grandparents would have to be disappointed. He found he couldn’t offer for any chit just to please them. Juliana’s softness, her sweet response in the garden pulled at the pain in him and suddenly he wasn’t so sure which pain was the greater.
The Rake's Redemption Page 15