It was a pity, she thought, that her own family was so sparse and scattered. Of her close relatives her mother was the only one still living, and despite what Ash had said in the summerhouse, she had no expectation of seeing her again. She spent far more time with Doctor Knowles and his wife than she did with anyone else. They had been more like family than her real family ever was, and she was very fond of them.
Simon introduced Juliet to his intended, Miss Beales, and she found her a pleasant sort of girl, with a sweet smile, and perfectly suited to the man Simon had become.
Several times she caught Ash’s moody gaze on her from across the room. He didn’t want her here, she could tell, but that only compelled her, stubbornly, to enjoy herself more.
At one point in the evening she looked up, and finding his gaze on her again, refused to look away. For long moments they stared at each other through the candle light. The distance between them was too great for her to see his expression, and to know what he was thinking. If she was so inclined she could pretend he was looking at her because he loved her. That he was remembering the kisses they had shared the other day and longing for more.
“Monkstead has some unusual traditions too.” Miss Beales’ voice interrupted her, speaking with Simon. “I mean, like your Midsummer celebrations.”
“Monkstead?” Juliet asked, looking between them.
“Christina is related to the Earl of Monkstead,” Simon explained. “We are neighbours, in a way. Our London town house is in Mockingbird Square, and the earl’s town house is opposite us.”
Miss Beales was speaking in a breathless little voice. “Monkstead House is closed now, and it has been a long time since the earl has presided over any family gatherings, large or small. But I believe they were once much anticipated. When his wife was there with him.”
She looked guilty, as if she shouldn’t have made mention of Monkstead’s wife. Before Juliet could ask her why the earl’s wife was off limits, the children were back, pressing her to come with them, and she allowed them to tug her to her feet.
It was late when Lady Linholm finally declared herself ready for bed. Juliet had never intended to remain so long, and she blamed Ash for it. If he hadn’t been so nasty to her she would have left long ago. Now, when she peered out of the windows, she saw that the rain was heavier than ever. The grounds were saturated and water lay in puddles. She imagined that the lake, which she would have to pass on her way home, would be dark and swollen. Even so she would still have set out, if Lady Linholm had not intervened.
“You really must stay, my dear!”
“Oh no, there is no need. I will wait a little while,” she said. “I’m sure I will be able to leave soon.”
But her hostess would not hear of it.
“There is plenty of room for guests, Juliet,” she said. “I’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere. Besides, we haven’t spoken about the hospital yet. You know I would very much like to help with the costs.”
Blackmail, thought Juliet darkly. For some reason Felicity wanted her to stay. “Very well. If you’re certain . . .”
“Yes, I am certain,” Lady Linholm patted her hand. “Please stay. We will talk in the morning. Only,” and she gave a wan smile, “not too early. I am not as young as I was. Just as well Simon and Christina will be here after they marry and can help me with next year’s Midsummer celebrations.” Then she did a strange thing. She gave a furtive glance over her shoulder in the direction of Ash, who was conversing with another guest.
“It is a pity my eldest son hasn’t found a wife yet,” she said. “I think he is like one of the swans on the lake, Juliet.”
“One of the swans?”
“Surely you know the story?” Lady Linholm was staring at her intently now. “Once they have made their choice of partner, swans mate for life.”
Juliet opened her mouth, perhaps to refute that Ash was anything like a swan, but Lady Linholm didn’t give her time to reply. She was moving toward the staircase that led to the upper rooms. The great hall was part of the old castle at Crevitch, but little else remained. Successive generations had made additions, and although some of the building was a little higgledy-piggledy, it was charming in its own way.
Swans mate for life.
What had Lady Linholm meant? That Ash had chosen her as his lifelong partner? Impossible! As this evening had progressed Juliet had given up on her plan to tell him she loved him. How could she when he avoided her, and on the few occasions when he spoke to her it was in that chilly Lord of the Manor voice? Now all she wanted to do was to slip away and lick her wounds.
She looked again toward the front door, a little longingly, but at that moment a servant arrived to take her in hand, and she was led away to the room allotted to her.
As Juliet climbed the stairs she wondered how she would ever sleep. She had come here with such hope in her heart, only to feel it slowly trickling away. She couldn’t bear to be hurt. Not again. And yet there was that long look he had given her through the candlelight . . . and Lady Linholm’s words.
Was there a chance after all? And if so, did she dare to take it?
Chapter Thirteen
Midsummer Eve, 1816, Crevitch Castle, Somerset
Ashley found his Uncle George asleep in one of the armchairs in the library. He’d come in here before bedtime, thinking to find a book that might help him sleep. It had been a busy day and a busier evening, and he should be tired. Ready to fall into his comfortable bed and not wake up until morning.
And yet he knew that wouldn’t happen.
There was too much on his mind, too many regrets and memories, and the painful acknowledgement that it was time to let Juliet go forever. At one point in the evening, he had found himself watching her, longing for the right to walk across the room and take her in his arms. He had had to work very hard to stay where he was, especially when she seemed to be looking back at him with the same emotions.
His uncle gave a snore and woke himself up. He blinked about him and spotted Ash.
“There you are, my boy!” He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, wincing at some bodily pain.
“You should be in your bed,” Ash told him, fondly. “Do you want me to help you up the stairs?”
Like many of the other guests, George was staying the night at the castle.
“Your mother wanted me to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you.”
Surprised, Ash wondered what that meant. His mother seemed to be doing a lot more interfering than she used to, and he wasn’t sure he was happy about it. True, she had been kind when he spoke of Juliet, and perhaps Juliet’s invitation tonight was because of her, but what his mother didn’t know was that Juliet loved someone else now. It was over.
Seeing her here, in his home, imagining what might have been, had only make things more difficult for him and awkward for her.
“Talk to me about what?” he asked his uncle. “We can discuss any estate matters in the morning. I think we are both tired and—”
“About my decision to send you into the army, Ash.”
His uncle had been avoiding his eyes but now he looked up, as if forcing himself to meet them. He looked shaken and, although Ash could hardly believe it, afraid.
“Do not forget what you owe to your family, Ashley.”
He could hear his Uncle George’s voice, lecturing him before he went to Spain.
“You must marry well, someone who will bring wealth and prestige to Crevitch. You can choose from nearly anyone in the land, you know. Don’t be afraid to aim high.”
And then Ash insisting that he loved Juliet, forcing that promise from George. The promise he had never acted upon.
Now Ash looked about, startled, realising that this was the very room in which their conversation had taken place.
“You did what you thought was right,” he said at last. “I understand that. I don’t blame you.”
George stared at him a moment, and then he sighed. He seemed to have aged even more
in the last few minutes. “I didn’t realise,” he said quietly, “not until Felicity ripped into me.” He smiled grimly at the memory. “You wanted me to talk to Mr Montgomery about his daughter, to ask him to wait until you returned? I didn’t do that. I thought you’d forget her. I thought it was for the best.”
Ash sat down in the chair facing him.
George cleared his throat again. “You were a brave soldier. Too brave. You put yourself into dangerous situations for the sheer hell of it, and when you were wounded in that act of heedless bravery, everyone said how heroic you were. But I think I knew then.”
“Knew what?” Ash demanded quietly.
“That you had done it on purpose, in the hope that you would die. Because Felicity had written to you about Juliet Montgomery’s marriage to Baron Flett, and you no longer cared about your own safety.”
George was staring at him, and he looked grey with fatigue and the memories from that time.
“She knew as soon as we heard you’d been badly wounded. She was very angry. I don’t think you realise how angry your mother can get, Ash.”
“They were asking for a volunteer, so I put up my hand. I don’t think I did it because I actually wanted to die. I didn’t think of it like that. But I knew I didn’t care one way or the other. Not after reading the letter and knowing Juliet was lost to me. People said I was a hero, but I don’t believe that. I was shot, and the bullet grazed my skull.” Ash hesitated. “I could have died then, and for a while they thought I might, but as I began to mend I remember feeling glad to be alive. Even without Juliet, I had many reasons to live, Crevitch and my family being among them.”
George nodded sombrely. “I knew it but I didn’t want to admit it. You came home and recovered, and then you went to London and seemed to be enjoying your life again. There were some incidents . . . I believe you crashed your curricle?”
Ash smiled. “I was racing a friend. I think that I am rather a reckless person, Uncle, something I have tried to temper in recent times. I assure you that occasion in Spain was the one and only time I was intentionally careless with my life. I don’t want to die and leave Crevitch to some relative who will not love it as I do. I don’t mean Simon, of course.”
George nodded. “Simon is a good boy,” he agreed, “but he is not you, Ash. Crevitch needs you.”
They were silent a moment, the soft sound of rain outside the windows, and the murmur of voices as guests and servants went to their beds. His mother had already declared that any tidying up could wait until the morning.
“I was wrong,” his uncle said again. “I didn’t understand your feelings in the matter of Baroness Flett. Can you forgive me, Ashley?”
Something heavy lifted from his heart, and Ash smiled as he leaned forward to take his uncle’s outstretched hand. “I forgave you long ago. I am not one to hold on to a grudge. And besides, I will need your help with taking over the reins of the estate. There’s no one who knows the ways of Crevitch like you do, Uncle George.”
“You will stay then?” George asked him anxiously. “You won’t return to live in London?”
“Yes,” Ash assured him, “I will stay.”
And God help him if he ran into Juliet strolling about the village with her medical lover.
His mother was still awake when he went up to see her, on his way to bed at last. He wondered if she had been waiting for him.
“Were you pleased?” she asked, watching him from her mound of pillows, her frilly nightcap tied under her chin. “It seemed to go very well, Ashley.”
“Excellently well, thank you, Mama,” he reassured her, the old childhood name slipping out.
“I hoped you would not mind me asking Juliet Flett. I think it is time we put aside that silly rift, don’t you?”
“If that is what you wish.”
She was watching him closely and she looked a little disappointed.
“There was a time, Ashley, when you wanted to marry her.”
“I think you will find Baroness Flett has her heart set on Doctor Knowles.” He tried to sound light hearted but there was a touch of bitterness there.
To his surprise she stared at him and then she laughed. “Doctor Knowles is already married! He has a wife and a child on the way.”
Ash stared. “I’m sure she . . . I thought . . .” He floundered, trying to understand. He had put aside his happiness for her sake, played the martyr, and all the time there had been no need? But hadn’t she said she loved Knowles? Thinking back he realised she hadn’t. She admired the man, but it had been Ash who had assumed there was more to their relationship.
His mother was beside herself. “Oh Ashley, why do you think I invited her! I wanted you to ask her to marry you, you silly boy. She’s free now. She loves you and you love her. Why on earth are you still dilly dallying?”
He stared back at her and then a slow smile curved his mouth. “You’re right,” he said. “I have waited far too long. Which room have you put her in?”
Felicity hesitated. “I’m not sure I should say. It wouldn’t be proper for you to burst in on one of your guests in the middle of the night.”
Ash glanced down at the novel she was holding. “I’m sure that happens all the time in your romances, Mother. Come, won’t you help your son to find his very own happy ever after? Or do I have to march about the house, shouting out her name, waking everyone up, until she answers?”
She smiled. “No, Ash, you don’t have to do that. She is in the Blue Room. And,” as he left her in haste, “good luck!”
He found the Blue Room easily enough, but when he knocked and opened the door the bed was empty, although it looked as if someone had tried to sleep in it. Tried and failed.
He knew all about sleepless nights.
Should he search the house for her? He was tempted, but it was very late, and what if she had decided to go home after all? He wouldn’t blame her. He had been appalling to her, the worst sort of host, and she must think he hated her.
Well if she had gone home, he told himself, he would go to her.
Decision made, Ash set out for his own room, thinking to change into his riding clothes. He had flung open the door and was halfway across the room when he realised he wasn’t alone.
There was someone in his bed.
“Juliet?”
She stirred, and he gathered she had been asleep. Her hair was unbound, the dark mass of it gleaming in the light from the candle that Truscott had left burning for him. Thank God he had told his valet he would not be needed tonight.
“Juliet? What are you doing here?”
He took a step closer and suddenly she was wide awake. Her gaze fixed on him and she half sat up, and that was when he realised that once again his beloved wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
Chapter Fourteen
Midsummer Eve, 1816, Crevitch Castle, Somerset
It was while she lay tossing and turning in her bed in the Blue Room that Juliet had made her decision. There had been enough words, and besides, she and Ash always seemed to be at cross purposes, or else one of them ended up saying goodbye and walking out. Most unsatisfactory. This time she would act, not speak, and see where that got her.
If Ash truly loved her, then he would tell her so now. And if he ordered her from his room then it really would be the end.
But she didn’t think he would do that. In fact, looking at the expression on his face, she was sure of it.
She snuggled down into his bed and smiled up at him. “Ash,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. “Where were you? I’ve been waiting for such a long time.”
“I’m sorry. If I had known you were waiting . . .” He came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, looking as if he’d like to climb in with her, shoes and all. For a moment she wondered whether he would, but then she remembered that he liked to think he was a gentleman.
Pity.
“I’m here to tell you I’ve changed my mind,” she said, still watching him. There was a glow in his e
yes and she didn’t think it was the candlelight.
“Changed your mind about what, my love?” He reached to pick up a strand of her dark hair, winding it gently about his fingers.
“About you. You and me.”
“Hmm.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, gently, chastely.
She brushed her fingertips against his skin, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the handsome face that had visited her in her dreams, even when she stubbornly refused to think of him while she was awake. She was tempted to kiss his mouth, but she knew if she did that then all the words she’d been preparing to say would be forgotten.
And she very much wanted to say them.
Juliet moved back slightly to give herself some thinking space. “Ash, are you listening to me? This decision of mine has been weighing heavily on me and I . . . I thought I would come here tonight and tell you. Why were you so horrible to me?”
“I wasn’t trying to be horrible.” He bent to kiss her again, but she held up her hand to stop him. “Disappointment in love will do that to a man.”
“Have you been disappointed in love?” she asked him curiously. He had taken her hand in his and was kissing her fingertips, one by one. She felt quite breathless, watching him. “Ash?”
“Very disappointed. I believed you and Doctor Knowles were about to call the Banns.”
She stared at him in amazement. “But Ash, Doctor Knowles is married and very much in love with his wife!”
Ash shifted awkwardly, and she could tell he was embarrassed. “Perhaps I wasn’t thinking straight, but I got the impression you and the doctor were a pair. So I decided I should bow out. I was trying to do the right thing for once in my life. You haven’t been very happy up until now, Juliet, and I wanted you to find contentment.”
She stared up at him, taking in his words, making sense of them. “What about love?” she said finally. “I don’t love Doctor Knowles, how could I? I’ve never loved anyone but you.”
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