Paine waved up at her from the terrace, looking casual and fresh in a clean shirt and breeches. ‘Julia, come down!’
Had it been an hour already? Julia changed into a simple yellow-sprigged muslin from Madame Broussard’s in record time and flew down the stairs. The brothers were waiting for her in the drawing room. ‘I’m sorry to be late,’ she apologised.
‘You look lovely. The yellow becomes you,’ Paine said, coming to stand next to her and lifting her hand to his lips in a soft kiss. The gallant-suitor act startled her for a moment until she remembered the plan. Ah, the play had begun. She must remember to play her role as well. That would mean no sparring with Paine or arguing in public or private.
Beyond them in the dining room, dinner had been set out on white cloth-covered tables lit with candles, footmen waiting to remove the covers. Peyton and Aunt Lily led the way. Paine offered her his arm for the short distance and she smiled up at him as they walked. ‘This is a nice fantasy,’ Julia said, hoping to convey to him that she understood his behavior and that she would act her part. Paine merely smiled. He pulled out her chair and seated her, letting his hands linger on her shoulders before taking the chair next to her.
After a short round of small talk, while the covers were removed and the footmen departed to let them eat in privacy, Peyton turned the conversation immediately to their mission at hand. Julia suspected this was the very reason they’d chosen to dine informally inside instead of outside on the terrace, enjoying the summer evening. Here, they could serve themselves and not be interfered with; indoors, they wouldn’t risk the sound of their conversation being carried to unwanted ears.
‘We’ve arrived without mishap.’ Peyton raised a glass of the excellent white wine served with the fowl. But there was no rest for the weary. They’d barely taken two bites before Peyton raised their business.
‘I have already met with the staff here at Dursley House and given them my strictest instructions regarding Julia. They are not to discuss her presence in this home. To do so will result in being dismissed immediately. Additionally, I have instructed them that Julia is not to leave the house without one of us with her plus an appropriate escort of footmen. Is that clear, everyone?’ Peyton fixed them all in turn with his regal stare before continuing. ‘Preferably, I’d like Julia to stay put. As soon as Oswalt knows the knocker is on the door, there’s no doubt he’ll set men to watching the house as a precaution. None the less, we will not hide like scared rabbits. Tomorrow, we tackle the ton. We need to talk about that.’ He turned to Lily. ‘You’ve looked over the invitations—which gathering do you recommend?’
‘Invitations already?’ Julia broke in. ‘We’ve only been in town a few hours.’
‘I had the knocker go up on the door before I even arrived,’ Aunt Lily said as if another eight hours’ notice made all the difference. The message was clear. The Earl of Dursley was a sought-after commodity.
And why not? Julia couldn’t help but cast a glance at the man who sat at the head of the table. He was an older, more mature image of Paine, who was nigh on irresistible with his good looks. It had not occurred to her before just how much of an eligible parti Peyton Ramsden would be for the matchmaking mamas. Stable, wealthy, titled and handsome—all eminently desirable and rare characteristics to find in a marriageable man. But not for her.
Julia dropped her fork in a clatter at the realisation. Paine had ruined her for other men, even handsome look-alike peers with titles and money.
‘Do you have something against the Worthington soirée, my dear?’ Lily inquired innocuously from across the table.
Worthington soirée? Was that what they’d been talking about? Julia feigned attention. ‘No, of course not. It should be a lovely evening.’
‘Do you have something to wear?’ Peyton, always the detailed planner, asked.
Julia didn’t get to answer. ‘Another trunk arrived from Madame Broussard’s today. I put it in her room,’ Aunt Lily supplied.
Julia smiled to herself. She’d seen the trunk, but hadn’t had time to open it. Apparently she didn’t need to. The efficient Aunt Lily probably knew the contents of the trunk down to the last button. She was getting used to the Ramsden way of managing everything and everyone. It was even starting to be entertaining, watching them try to manage each other. She would have to pick her battles and they would have to learn that Julia Prentiss could manage things, too. The Ramsdens weren’t the only capable people in the world. She would miss them when all this was over and that was a sobering thought indeed.
Plans were laid quickly after that and Julia was careful to pay attention lest she become swept away in the ardent wave of Ramsden plotting. In the morning, Paine would go over to Brook Street and check on his house. She and Aunt Lily would pay calls on some of Aunt Lily’s more influential friends at their at-homes and attend a ladies’ lunch. That evening, they would make their ‘grand’ entrance into society at the Worthington soirée.
‘What about my family?’ Julia asked as the planning session drew to a close. ‘There’s a chance we’ll run into them or a chance that they’ll hear of me being in town.’
‘There’s every chance of that. We’re counting on it,’ Peyton offered, pouring the last of the wine.
‘The servants won’t talk, but we can’t really hope to keep your presence here a secret and, truly, there’s no point in making this covert. After all, we’ll be out in public. We want to be seen together,’ Paine said. ‘As soon as your uncle knows you’re with us, I’ll pay him a visit.’
Julia didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded exclusive and very Ramsden-like. ‘I want to be with you when you visit. I want them to know I chose this and that I am fine. They’ve probably been worried to death.’
‘We’ll see, Julia. I won’t have you put in unnecessary danger,’ Paine said tersely. He pushed back and rose. ‘Time for bed, I think. Tomorrow will be busy and today was long.’
Julia rose to go with him. ‘You did that on purpose,’ she scolded in a low voice as they exited the dining room.
‘Did what? Excuse myself from the table?’ Paine said obtusely. ‘I tend to do that on a nightly basis.’
‘Absolutely. You did it so I couldn’t respond to your dictates about visiting my uncle.’
Paine glanced over his shoulder, then, apparently satisfied with what he’d seen or not seen behind them, pulled her into a dark corner of the terrace. ‘You’re a horrible minx to try to out-think,’ he teased, attempting to steal a kiss in the shadows.
Julia put him off, twisting her head out of reach. ‘No. You are not going to distract me with kisses either.’ Although she wasn’t at all sure of her ability to live up to that claim of resistance. ‘I am not going to be left out of the visit any more than you were going to be left out of my return to London. Promise me, Paine, that I’ll get to go with you.’
‘All right, I promise as long as there’s no danger to you.’ Paine sighed in exasperation. ‘Bargaining with you is the devil, Julia. May I have a kiss now?’
Julia leaned into him, arms around his neck. ‘I thought you would never ask.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Paine gave a low laugh in the summer darkness before he claimed her lips with a kiss that Julia thought might be quite the best goodnight kiss in the history of goodnight kisses between two people who were only pretending to be in love.
Julia stood in the long line of guests waiting to be introduced at the Worthington soirée, grateful for a few moments to gather her thoughts and happy to let the others handle whatever greetings or conversations came their way as they waited in line. At this moment, the managing tendencies of the Ramsden brothers was a very welcome trait.
The day had been a whirl of activity. She had not expected otherwise. But Julia had not been prepared for how draining the routine would be. Just changing her gowns had been a tiring chore. She’d dressed in a muslin morning dress for the calls they’d paid before the lunch. Lily had rushed her home between calls and the luncheon to cha
nge into something ‘fresh’ although she’d only worn the gown for three hours. Then there had been another change so she could be seen driving with Aunt Lily through Hyde Park at the crowded hour before returning home for dinner and to dress for the soirée.
Four dresses! And Lily had overseen each choice with military precision from slippers to bonnet. No detail had been overlooked. Her own aunt hadn’t paid close attention to her wardrobe at all as long as the gown was considered fashionable. But then, her aunt was not Lily Branbourne, Dowager Marchioness of Bridgerton and a Ramsden by birth.
Lily had expertly shepherded her through the day, introducing her to influential women, including a patroness of Almack’s. Lily had not forgotten, as the cadre of Ramsden males had, that Julia was new come to town and there were protocols to follow. Julia had barely been presented at court and had her own come-out before the trouble with Oswalt began. Lily understood all that implied. She’d gone so far as to warn Paine that Julia could not yet dance the waltz since Almack’s hadn’t given her permission.
Paine had protested the notion, but had earned himself nothing but a sharp rap on the knuckles from his aunt’s ivory fan.
Paine’s own news for the day wasn’t good. His venture to the Brook Street home had been dismaying. The home had been burgled. The few pieces of furniture the house possessed had been broken, the elegant yin-and-yang cabinet vandalised, its contents shattered on the floor. Paine could not discern if anything was missing and he reported that he doubted anything was taken.
The Ramsden brothers concluded that the break-in had been designed to scare or perhaps to catch. Somehow, Oswalt had figured out where the discreet residence was and was sending the message that he meant to flush Paine out. There was nowhere to hide.
Fortunately, hiding wasn’t part of the plan. They meant to go about in plain sight. Julia spread her own fan and waved it delicately to generate a little air. The evening was warm and standing in line was warmer still. She was glad Lily had suggested the light gown of ‘changeable’ pale pink silk adorned with ribbon instead of the one Julia had favoured with heavier beading.
‘You look lovely,’ Paine whispered in her ear. ‘I don’t know how you manage to look both sinful and innocent at the same time. I want to devour you.’
‘There’ll be none of that, Paine, my boy,’ Aunt Lily scolded, stepping in. ‘It’s our turn. Behave.’
Her tone was censorious and a sharp reminder that tonight wasn’t only about Julia. It was about Paine returning to the fold with the backing of his brother’s good graces. In order for them to put a stop to Oswalt’s manoeuvrings, Paine had to be accepted back into society.
They were announced to the hostess and Julia fought back the impression that the announcement had been louder than anyone else’s and that everyone stopped their chatter to stare at them.
‘Everyone is staring,’ Julia whispered.
‘Of course they are. They’re wondering who the beautiful woman is on my arm,’ Paine encouraged softly. ‘We want it this way. We want to be noticed.’ Further conversation was impossible as they approached their hostess. Paine turned on his considerable charm, bowing gallantly over Lady Worthington’s hand and they were through.
‘See,’ Paine said once they entered the ballroom, ‘Ramsdens don’t skulk. We don’t have to slither in and be ashamed of anything.’
‘Then we’ve succeeded,’ Julia shot back. It was clear the clusters of people standing near the entrance to the ballroom were indeed staring at them. She kept her head high and dared a smile at one or two who were brazen enough to meet her eyes.
‘Keep moving,’ Paine counselled through a smile as he acknowledged an acquaintance here and there in the crowd. His hand never left the small of her back and Julia welcomed its light pressure, its warm reassurance while they navigated the crowd.
‘Here. We’ll stop here. This will be a good place to make our own,’ Peyton said at last when they gained a spot near a pillar along the side of the ballroom. Within moments, people seemed to sense that the Earl of Dursley was ready to ‘receive’.
People who had watched his progress from the reception line through the ballroom began to make their way towards them. Julia’s fear that they’d be shunned was quickly dispelled. Within minutes, they were surrounded by mothers wanting to introduce daughters to Peyton, men wanting to meet Paine and women hoping to do more than meet him, Julia thought uncharitably. Everyone wanted to hear Paine’s story.
The evening served as a pattern card for the evenings that followed. The Ramsden brothers were seen at every affair of merit hosted in Mayfair’s ballrooms over the next few weeks, squiring about the sparkling Julia Prentiss with the redoubtable Aunt Lily close by. The story of Julia and Paine’s supposed country romance was on the lips of every worthy gossip. Aunt Lily’s chaperonage lent the tale credibility. The twosome had met during Paine’s reunion with his brothers recently and had become quite taken with each other. Aunt Lily claimed having introduced them at a family dinner.
As June lengthened towards midsummer, everywhere they went, crowds surged around them. But Julia wasn’t naïve enough to assume the sycophantic crowd around them meant Paine had been welcomed back. It was too soon. That judgement would occur later and the verdict would start trickling through Mayfair. As would the verdict regarding herself. Had she ‘taken’? How much people liked her would hugely affect how willing they’d be to accept her story without probing too closely. But there were good indicators success was assured. She’d even survived Almack’s and now had permission to waltz.
Standing next to her at the Hatley rout, Paine shook hands with a gentleman. ‘I’ll be staying at Dursley House. Please feel free to call and we can discuss business more thoroughly.’
‘That sounds promising.’ Julia nodded after the retreating figure of the gentleman.
‘Yes. I’ve found business loans can be one way of restoring my reputation,’ Paine said. ‘They’re starting up the music. Would you dance with me? I seem to recall dancing with a gentleman at a fine affair was on a certain Julia Prentiss’s wish list,’ he flirted lightly, offering his arm.
‘You remember that?’ Julia placed her hand on his sleeve, fighting a blush. She remembered that, too, but more vivid than what she’d said was what they’d done.
‘Yes. And…’ Paine’s eyes twinkled as they took their places in the forming sets ‘…I remember other things we did that night, too.’
Crispin claimed her for the second dance, but the third dance was an energetic country dance and Julia was glad for the rest. The ballroom was warm and she was desperate for a cool breeze.
Paine read her need immediately when Crispin returned her to their court. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer a stroll on the terrace,’ Paine suggested.
‘Just the terrace, Paine,’ Peyton cautioned quietly from his side. Julia stifled a laugh. There they went, managing each other again, or at least trying to. She appreciated Peyton’s reasons for it, though. They were close to success, close to laying Paine’s dubious past and rowdy youth to rest. An amorous blunder now could easily put paid to their hopes.
‘Just the terrace, Peyton.’ Paine grinned and whisked her away.
The terrace was disappointingly crowded, but the cool air was a relief. ‘I think it would be all right to walk in the gardens,’ Paine suggested. ‘I’ll be glad when all this nonsense is over and I can kiss you when I like,’ he whispered in her ear.
Julia silently agreed with that sentiment. As expected, he’d been unable to come to her room and, with all eyes on them, their opportunities to be together were severely curtailed.
The gardens were better. They were less populated and Paine adroitly found them a bench by a quiet fountain surrounded by tall hedges.
‘You’ve been here before,’ Julia said, suspicious of the ease with which the place had been located. It was well hidden enough that the casual wanderer would be unlikely to come across it.
‘Yes.’ Paine put an arm about her waist and drew
her close. ‘I can safely kiss you here.’
‘Paine, you know the rules,’ Julia protested. ‘The evening’s been going so well, I don’t want to jinx it.’
‘We won’t get caught. Besides, anyone who catches us would have plenty of explaining to do as to why they were out here, too,’ Paine reassured her, sweeping her into his arms for an impromptu waltz before she could marshal another argument. ‘I’ve wanted you so much. It’s killing me not to be able to touch you.’
Julia stumbled a bit as she tried to find Paine’s rhythm. ‘This is not at all like dancing with my cousins.’
Paine laughed. ‘I should hope not!’ He pulled her tight against him and swung a tight turn around the fountain.
‘Paine, there’s supposed to be distance between us,’ Julia gasped, but her gasp had little to do with outrage and everything to do with the excitement of being in this man’s arms. With him, even a simple dance was an adventure.
‘I wonder why this dance is so scandalous. I mean, the way they dance it inside. It’s just a pattern of circles and turns,’ Julia mused out loud, finally falling into Paine’s rhythm with confidence.
‘My dear, don’t you know? The waltz is a metaphor for sex.’
‘I don’t believe you. I think you’re just making that up to shock me.’ Julia laughed.
‘No, watch and learn,’ Paine drawled, his eyes turning dark with seductive intention. He slowed his pace, making their steps deliberate. ‘The woman is in pursuit, that’s why the woman is always dancing forwards, as it were. It’s a chase. If we dance too close together, you can feel me through my trousers, even my most intimate parts. That’s why those prim matrons in there insist on distance. But out here, we don’t have to worry about such nonsense.’
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