Vivien’s eyes widened. “Do you honestly think he’ll agree to that?”
“I don’t know.” She recalled the panicked look in his eyes the night he’d arrived at the Hawthorne Ball and found himself surrounded by a horde of eager women. But on the other hand, he had promised to help, and it was for a good cause.
“Maybe other bachelors will agree to do the same,” Vivien suggested with a playful touch of mischief. “You could even go so far as to auction off walks in the park or a boat ride on the Serpentine.”
Juliette grinned. “The possibilities are endless when one puts one’s mind to it.”
A footman approached and both ladies snatched a glass of lemonade from his tray. “Do you realize how lucky you are?” Vivien asked while taking a sip of hers.
“Embarrassingly so,” Juliette admitted. When Vivien showed surprise, she said, “I hope you don’t think me ungrateful, but I sometimes hate the good fortune my family and I have had. We are judged for it, envied for it, criticized for it. While there are many who have welcomed us into Society, some have not. And although Raphe and Amelia have their titles to protect them from a great deal of censure, I don’t.”
Vivien took another sip of her drink. “You could change that, you know.”
Juliette scoffed. “By marrying?”
“It is expected. And before you argue that point, allow me to tell you that growing old alone can be terribly lonely.” When Juliette frowned, Vivien explained. “My aunt’s husband passed away twenty years ago. Since then the only companion she’s had has been me, a girl thirty years her junior.”
“She could have remarried.”
“Her love for my uncle would never permit that, which is a pity. Only five years of her life were spent with him by her side and . . .” She dropped her voice. “Once, after a bit too much wine before bed, she told me they used to have intimacy and . . . great passion.” She coughed lightly before saying, “I have a feeling that marriage to the right sort of man could be a wonderful experience.”
Juliette knew from the satisfied looks on Amelia’s and Gabriella’s faces whenever they saw their husbands that there had to be some substance to Vivien’s point. “I suppose that might be true, but even if it is, what would you have me do? Marry someone on a whim in the hope of it all working out?”
“Of course not. But surely there must be someone you find attractive?”
“I can’t think of anyone.” Oh what a terrible lie that was.
Vivien gave her a dubious look. “Really?”
“In any case I would want more than physical attraction alone. I would want a husband who takes an interest in me, someone with whom I can talk at great length without either of us getting bored.” Her thoughts turned to Florian and it took some effort to ignore them. “From what I understand, most peers marry for convenience and spend their lives apart. In which case, why bother at all?”
Rather than ponder that question as Juliette had expected, Vivien chuckled. “I believe most of them put in the effort so they can have children.”
Which was certainly a compelling argument. Especially if Amelia’s numerous insinuations were anything to go by. Juliette wasn’t quite sure why her sister placed so much weight on that particular aspect of marriage since she refused to go into detail, insisting Juliette would have to discover the joy of it for herself.
A gentleman to whom Juliette had been previously introduced approached as if conjured by their conversation. Although she failed to recall the man’s name, she knew him to be a peer. “Lady Juliette,” he said by way of greeting. “I hope—”
“Allow me to present my dear friend, Miss Vivien Saunders,” Juliette cut in. She knew it was rude to interrupt, but he was rude too for not acknowledging her friend.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Saunders. I am Lord Portham, the Earl of Fitzhewitt’s heir.” He addressed Vivien with the typical civility innate to his breed, but showed no overwhelming interest otherwise.
Vivien, on the other hand, beamed. The whole display bothered Juliette because, in her opinion, her friend was just as deserving of this man’s attention as she was. The only difference was that Juliette could ensure a connection to a duke. That was all she was—a stepping-stone to more prestige.
Lord Portham turned to her again. “As I was about to say,” he stated, deliberately pointing out Juliette’s earlier faux pas in cutting him off, “I hope to secure the next dance with you, my lady.”
“Thank you, but I have already engaged in several dances and wish to rest my feet for the remainder of the evening. Miss Saunders, however, is quite available.” And more than willing to take her place considering the hopefulness pouring from her eyes. “I suggest you invite her to dance with you instead.”
And just as Juliette had known it would, the man’s innate civility ensured he would do as she suggested without any hint of disagreeability. Waiting until the pair was out on the dance floor, Juliette turned toward the terrace door. It would be a half hour before her friend returned, during which she would enjoy a much-needed breath of fresh air.
A cool breeze caressed her the moment she stepped out onto the terrace, provoking a sigh of pure pleasure. Lord, it was good to get out of the stifling heat and away from the chatter of voices. Out here silence reigned, soothing her senses and instilling calm. She moved forward, toward a group of ladies and gentlemen who were all engrossed in conversation. Passing them, she descended the steps leading down into the garden.
Torches punctured the darkness down there, the intimate illumination beckoning her to approach. So she did, even though it was starting to drizzle. But to go back inside seemed absurd. Out here amidst dormant flowers and trees she could finally breathe, forget Raphe’s insistence she hunt down a husband and Florian’s infuriating logic.
She’d thought of him repeatedly since the committee meeting a few days earlier and the deep underlying pain he’d revealed when he’d shared the truth about his emotions and his ability to hide them. Except where she was concerned. That thought had bounced around in her head ever since. The possibilities it posed had intruded upon her dreams when she slept, leaving her hot and breathless each morning when she awoke.
A rich fragrance of lilies infused the air as she started along a path leading off to the right. It was neatly paved with large stone slabs that allowed for a quiet tread, which was probably why, when turning the corner of the house, the person coming toward her failed to hear her approach. She collided with the individual at full walking speed and would have fallen backward if a hand hadn’t found its way round her to keep her upright.
“Oomph!” The air was pushed from her lungs and for a quick moment she panicked. Her hands came up, grabbing the other person by the shoulders to steady herself even further. And then she froze, because her brain finally caught up with her actions, alerting her to the fact that she was clinging to a particularly sturdy man.
“My lady.”
Oh God!
The man she was holding on to was not the stranger she’d hoped to walk away from without too much humiliation. It was Florian, his voice a strained murmur that brushed the curve of her neck. She shivered in response to it and her awareness increased tenfold. His hand was still at her back, the fingers splayed and pressing into her flesh while his chest made full contact with her breasts. In short, they were for all intents and purposes wrapped in a rather scandalous embrace. Neither one of them moved.
Juliette wasn’t sure why Florian failed to release her. Perhaps he was too shocked to do so, his limbs frozen in place, rendering him immobile. For her own part, she could not understand why she did not simply jump back or push him aside or something, except for the utterly unreasonable reason that she wished to savor this moment for just a little while longer. It allowed her to explore certain aspects of the man that distance would not permit. Like the way his hair gently tickled her brow, how the spicy scent of him lured her closer and the strength with which he held her, letting her know she was safe
in his arms.
What a deliciously alarming thought that was.
A strangled sound left his throat and she finally shifted, which prompted him to ease her away from him slowly. “My apologies.” His level voice conveyed no hint of what he was thinking. “I hope you are unharmed.”
“Yes. Of course. It is in fact I who ought to beg your forgiveness.” When he raised an eyebrow, she explained, “Had I not been walking as fast as I was, there’s a good chance we wouldn’t have collided.”
“What a pity that would have been.”
His comment set her back, not because of what it implied but because of the manner in which it was spoken. He sounded amused, which was very different from how he’d been when they’d last spoken.
“Since we did collide, as you put it, perhaps you would care to take a turn of the garden with me?” He offered his arm.
Juliette stared at the man who invariably made her insides twist into tight little knots, then glanced around. “Would it not be improper with nobody else around?”
“As long as we keep away from dark corners and don’t stray too far from the house, I see no reason for anyone to disapprove.”
Uncertain, Juliette struggled with the inner turmoil the situation evoked. She did not wish to insult Florian by turning him down. But her admiration for him could not be denied, nor could her increasing attraction toward him. And now that she knew what it was to be held in his arms, she longed to experience it again. Which was dangerous.
And yet, taking a private walk with him would allow for the perfect opportunity to discuss her idea for the fund-raiser she was planning. Which was important for her to do since she would require his agreement regarding the auction. So she set her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead the way forward, aware once again of the strength he emitted not only in his solid posture but in his stride.
When they’d gone a few paces and she’d worked out the best way to make her request, she said, “I’ve decided that the first charity event I host on behalf of St. Agatha’s will be a tea party at Huntley House.”
“Is a garden party not more common?”
“Maybe, but I think doing it like this will ensure the event’s success.” She paused before saying, “Especially considering the items I’m considering for the auction.”
“Oh?” His voice was low, sensual and terribly distracting.
She steeled herself. “In light of your increased popularity, I believe the promise of dancing with you would be great incentive for—”
“What?”
He’d drawn her to an immediate halt and was suddenly closer somehow. Her stomach flipped over and a shiver raced down her spine. “Well, um . . .” She struggled to regain composure, if only to get her words out. “I think many women will want to bid on the chance to partner with you.”
“No.”
“Especially if the dance in question is the waltz,” she said, ignoring his refusal. “I dare say every debutante will covet such an opportunity.”
Bowing his head, he murmured close to her ear. “Do you speak from experience, my lady?”
Flustered by his flirtatiousness and not entirely sure how to handle it, she held her tongue and continued along the path, distancing herself from him while trying to catch her breath. His footsteps sounded behind her, careful but certain upon the ground. Juliette’s pulse raced.
The path up ahead split off in two directions, and when she started toward the left, he caught her by the elbow and steered her to the right, leading her toward the far end of the garden.
“I thought you said we should stay close to the house.” Common sense warred with the thrill of anticipation.
“Will you answer the question?”
He spoke closer to her ear than she would have expected, causing her to shiver in response. “I enjoyed dancing with you tremendously, Florian.” That was what he was asking, was it not? She could scarcely remember.
“And I with you. But that doesn’t mean I’m eager to dance with anyone else.”
Recognizing the compliment, but knowing she had to try and stay on point, Juliette said, “It’s for a good cause.”
“I realize that, but is it completely necessary?”
“No. Of course it isn’t. If you really don’t want to, I can think of something else. It was just an idea.”
The path narrowed, so he drew her slightly closer—enough for her to enjoy the scent of him once again and to savor the feel of his arm pressing up against hers.
Silence settled between them for a moment before he said, “On second thought, I’ll consider it and let you know by tomorrow afternoon.”
“But—”
“We face great odds, my lady. Raising as much money as we can is important. So it wouldn’t be right of me to ruin the chance of a successful event just because I don’t want to waltz.”
“Thank you, Florian.” She couldn’t help but smile. Hoping to give him ease, she tried for a bit of good-natured humor. “You know, for a man who claims he doesn’t enjoy it, you’re remarkably good. Even if your skill upon the dance floor is not your best quality.”
He made a sound that could have been choked-back laughter. “It isn’t?” he asked, his voice lighter than she’d ever heard it before.
Liking this playful side to him and appreciating his willingness to let her see it, she smiled up at him as they walked and almost tripped when he responded with a smile of his own. The effect was dazzling, for as handsome as he was when he glowered, he was far more striking like this.
Her insides shivered and her limbs grew weak, and it took a moment for her to realize she hadn’t responded. “No, um . . .” She glanced away, into the darkness, and said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re an incredibly skilled physician.” A pregnant pause made her realize she’d stated the obvious, so she hastened to add, “The way you saved those three boys from drowning last month, after another physician pronounced them dead, was remarkable. However did you do it?”
“By employing the methods advocated by the Humane Society. Their work pertaining to the resuscitation of drowning victims is incredible and has been effectively implemented for decades. One of their members even developed an electrical apparatus which can deliver a shock to the heart if breathing into the victim’s mouth and adding pressure to their chest is insufficient.”
Astonished and wanting to know more, Juliette asked, “Is that how you saved the boys? With such a device?”
“Partly.” He paused before saying, “Only one of them needed it. The other two recovered quickly enough when I held their noses and set a billows to their mouths.”
“They were fortunate to have you there,” she said. “As fortunate as Lady Ingram was when you decided to cut into her womb and extricate her baby.”
“I have performed several caesarian sections, my lady.” His tone suggested he was back to his signature frown. “The procedure is not very complicated.”
“Then how about the operation you performed on a living man’s heart a few months ago?”
Florian drew to a halt and released her arm so he could turn to face her. With the path as narrow as it was, his face was now but a few inches away, so close she could see the glow from the nearby torches casting his eyes in a dazzling display of color. “As much as I appreciate your admiration, you ought to know that I did not operate on the heart itself, but on the pericardium which surrounds it. All I did was copy the Spanish surgeon, Francisco Romero, who accomplished the exact same feat twenty years ago.”
Juliette stared at him. “Why do you insist on belittling your achievements?” She truly wanted to know, because as far as she was concerned, he was amazing.
“Why are you so interested in my work?” he countered.
Disliking the shift in attention, she shrugged and lowered her gaze. “I read the newspapers. Articles relating to people I know are of particular interest to me.” Glancing back up, she was shocked by the intensity with which he now watched her. She felt her cheeks warm wi
th the sort of heat that could burn the sun. “I am not obsessive, if that is what you think, but the more I have learned about you, the more my esteem has grown. I—it is the reason why I wanted to make my funds available to you in the first place, because I believe you to be the best physician there is.”
“Really?”
Worried he might misconstrue her meaning, even though he’d be right to do so, she pressed on, hoping to distract him from what she’d revealed. “I know you think me naïve and out of my depth with regard to the typhus epidemic.” He opened his mouth as if to argue so she hastily said, “And you would be correct.” He closed his mouth, which gave her the chance to continue. Needing to move while she spoke so she could escape the intensity of his gaze, she recommenced walking while he followed close by her side. “I lack your experience, so if you believe asking soldiers to shoot anyone who attempts to flee St. Giles is the best course of action, I will not argue that point any further.”
“By the way, I never said they should shoot to kill.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “I made a foolish assumption.”
His hand found her arm right above the elbow, and although he was wearing gloves, the contact still sent a wave of heat crashing through her. The tempered pace at which they were walking, the soft glow of torches and gentle evening air produced an intimate atmosphere ripe for romance.
Wait.
What?
Her heart stuttered in response to that unbidden thought, and yet there could be no denying the way she was feeling. Her entire body was humming with expectation and all because of his touch. Though, to be fair, this particular touch was rather startling with added pressure now as his fingers curled tighter, drawing her back up against him. The sensation only increased when he said in low tones, “I do not think you’re naïve, my lady. At least not any longer.”
She gazed up at him, momentarily stunned by the comment. “‘That’s very honest of you.”
The Illegitimate Duke Page 10