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Only Marriage Will Do

Page 17

by Jenna Jaxon


  Amiable smiled as Juliet rose and came toward him. Her eyes were not the frightened brown pools they had been in July, yet some kind of concern lurked there. He contemplated the two people with whom she had been conversing.

  A young woman, about his wife’s age or a bit younger, rather pretty in a rose-colored gown with brown curls framing her face, sat on the chaise. The young man at her side, soberly dressed in dark brown with a hint of lace at his cuffs and hair pulled back into a wig bag, shifted backward on the seat.

  “Amiable. You and Duncan have taken care of your business in good time this morning.” Her voice sounded unusually high pitched. Nervous.

  “Yes, my dear. I have much to relate to you but did not know you were receiving callers until just now.” He tried to make his tone soothing, noting her obvious distress. What had panicked her?

  She bit her lip and glanced from his face to her guests. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and took his arm. “Allow me to introduce you, my dear.” She led him toward the sofa, where the young man rose to his feet.

  “Lady Honoria Claypool, may I present my husband, Mr. Amiable Morley? Honoria is my dearest friend, Amiable.” She forced a smile that made her appear like a painted doll, eyes too wide, lips slightly puckered. Then she turned toward the young man and blushed.

  At a loss at her behavior, Amiable frowned. Something was wrong. This was not the forthright Juliet he knew so well.

  She gulped then blurted out, “Mr. Morley, may I also make known to you Mr. Randolph Sutton?”

  Chapter 23

  Amiable held his breath, glad he had not reacted to this extremely awkward situation with a more outward sign of distress. A gentleman must never admit to or display distress, pain, or fear. He did, however, blink several times, quite startled at this turn of events. Well, he would get the distasteful interview over and prepare for the challenge to come. Should he choose swords or pistols? No way to know which would be Sutton’s preferred weapon.

  He continued to stare at the man, anticipating the glove or at the very least the cut direct. The young man returned the stare, then dropped his gaze from Amiable’s. A very stiff bending of the neck took him completely by surprise. “Mr. Morley.”

  “Mr. Sutton.” Amiable bowed his head toward the wary young man, cautious himself. Was the man going to overlook the fact he had stolen his betrothed? Perhaps he played some canny game to make him lower his guard.

  Juliet seized the moment to propel him toward a chair and Sutton returned to his place on the sofa beside Lady Honoria. All four smiled carefully at one another before his wife grabbed the conversational reigns.

  “Lady Honoria and Mr. Sutton had arrived just before you, my dear. I sent a message to Honoria this morning asking if I could pay her a call and she replied by way of appearing here with Mr. Sutton.”

  She inclined her head toward her friend. “I am so sorry I was unable to stay with you in July, my dear, but circumstances simply forced me out of town. Do you remember my betrothal to Viscount St. Cyr, almost two years ago?”

  “Of course, Juliet.” Honoria glanced at Sutton, then back to her friend. “I remember you seemed rather relieved that his father broke the agreement. I somehow thought you did not fancy living in France.”

  “Rather, I did not fancy living with Philippe.”

  “Juliet.” Color painted Lady Honoria’s cheeks a becoming pink, but she giggled just the same. They had apparently been friends for some time for the young woman seemed unperturbed by his wife’s blunt manner.

  Sutton, however, eyed her wildly. Amiable raised an eyebrow. Had the man not known the tiger he’d grasped by the tail? Sutton warranted continued observation. Dalbury’s assessment of him as “mild mannered” grossly understated the matter. Dare he believe he had done Sutton a favor by absconding with Juliet?

  “It is true, Honoria. The man turned out to be no gentleman, despite his wonderful manners and devastating accent. Yes, I was relieved when Duncan told me the contract had been broken.” She pursed her lips. “You can therefore imagine my dismay to find Philippe in this very room the day after Duncan sailed for Italy, claiming the proxy marriage had been performed and we were married.” She gave her shoulders a little shake then sent a sweet smile toward Mr. Sutton. “I suppose I should, by all rights, have come to you, Mr. Sutton. You were my betrothed. You could have banished Philippe or perhaps fought him for my honor.”

  Sutton’s face paled to the color of new cheese.

  Amiable bit back a laugh.

  “Well, Lady Juliet, I…er…I certainly don’t think…it might not have been wise, you know, after all.” Sutton gripped his knees as he foundered with the words. “I would have come to your rescue, of course, had you called on me.” He stopped. “If I had been in that morning.” Another pause. “Dashed inconvenient if I had been out. Still, you had another champion as it turned out.” His round boyish face brightened.

  “Yes, Mr. Sutton.” Juliet leaned forward and looked at him, her eyes clear, her lips pressed together. “I believe God himself sent Mr. Morley to my door that day.” She turned her head to beam at him.

  Amiable smiled back, giving Juliet the lead in this foray. Perhaps she knew best, had some plan for putting the situation to rights. She was a brilliant strategist, as he knew first hand. He’d give her her head and trust to Providence.

  Juliet resumed her tale, drawing Sutton and Lady Honoria into the scene on that morning of intrigue. She described his entrance, their subterfuge with the faux claim of marriage heralded in a performance akin to one of Garrick’s masterpieces. She embellished Amiable’s role as champion of a damsel in distress, until he became Lancelot, Galahad, and Arthur rolled into one. Had the stage not been the province of whores, Juliet might have found herself in great demand as an actress. She told no lies. Oh, no. A clever embroidering of the facts only that cast him in the light of the romantic hero.

  As rapt at her storytelling prowess as her other audience members, he hung on her every word, and he’d been there.

  “So of course I asked Mr. Morley, called Captain Dawson at the time, to escort me and Glynis to your house, Honoria. I swear I did not feel safe at all. Then, on the way, I thought ‘What if Philippe follows me and tries to claim me?’ I could not bear to think of such a thing and so I decided I would hide in the farthest reaches of England, far away from anywhere Philippe might think to find me.” She beamed at her friend. “Guinevere’s Keep. You’ve heard me speak of it, haven’t you Honoria?”

  “Yes, I have, Juliet. Many times. The captain accompanied you?” She nodded at her friend. Lady Honoria had indeed fallen under Juliet’s spell. Sutton seemed to waver, but would likely topple as well.

  “Not at first. He thought it improper. Upon further reflection, however, taking my welfare into consideration, he realized I did need protection. So he joined me the first night and escorted me all the way to Cumbria.” She paused and sighed. “And along the way, we fell in love.”

  Amiable froze, eyes fixed on his wife. He risked a glance at Sutton, whose pallor had returned. She had been so close to making this all right. Now came the glove. He deliberately relaxed in his seat, stretching out his legs with no concern, as he had done earlier in the office. A movement calculated to convey disinterest while disguising an acute tension, a readiness for battle.

  “Indeed, Lady Juliet?” Sutton finally managed to spit out the words.

  “Indeed, Mr. Sutton. I should like to take this opportunity to beg your pardon for what must be perceived as incomparable bad manners and downright fickleness on my part. I had pledged myself to you. The settlement contracts had been signed, in fact, and yet, I managed to fall quite deeply in love with Captain Dawson, now Mr. Morley.” The minx had the temerity to lean toward Sutton and squeeze the hand that lay clenched on his knee. Then she cast her net around the unsuspecting prey.

  “I cannot help but believe, Mr. Sutton, that heaven ordained this should happen, don’t you know?” She nodded
, her face in grave earnest. “Imagine what would have happened if we had found out about my partiality for Mr. Morley after our marriage?” Her eyes widened in alarm. “It would have been disastrous.”

  She looked Sutton in the eyes, unflinching. “Would you have wished to be married to a woman, Randolph, who did not love you? Oh, I dare say I would have been fond of you, and been a good wife and mother to your children. And I would have been scrupulously faithful.”

  She sent another speaking look to Sutton. “Do not think for a moment I would have acted on those tender feelings for another.” She patted his hand. “However, I would have always had a somewhat saddened demeanor. I would have found some joy in life but not enough. That lack, Mr. Sutton, would have grieved you over the years, don’t you think? You would have wondered why I couldn’t be completely happy in our life together. You would never have known the truth. You would have thought it some lack within yourself, perhaps. All the while not knowing it was me.”

  Amiable heard a quiet sob from Lady Honoria. A quick look at Sutton found him entranced by the confession, eyes wide, expression thoughtful. Amiable was appalled to find his own feelings touched by the tale. His wife could charm apples off the trees.

  Sutton paused, seemed to get himself under control. “I think I understand, Lady Juliet. As you say, God does take a firm hand in his creatures’ affairs on occasion. Sometimes things that seem disastrous do turn out for the best. I believe your marriage to Mr. Morley is Providence’s way of stepping in to ensure we are on a path that will bring us ultimate happiness.” He turned and raised an eyebrow at the young woman at his side.

  She unaccountably blushed, then nodded.

  Sutton pulled himself up in his seat. “As is my betrothal to Lady Honoria.”

  Chapter 24

  Amiable stared at Sutton, speechless. The dull dog had a bit of life in him after all.

  “What?” Juliet seemed completely dumbfounded at this turn of events. “Honoria, is this true?”

  Her friend beamed and wrung her hands. “Yes, Juliet it is. I was afraid you would mind, even though Mr. Sutton told me of your marriage as soon as he had the letter from your brother.”

  “No, no, this is wonderful.” Juliet squealed and clapped her hands.

  Amiable recovered from his shock and found his manners and his tongue. “My most sincere best wishes for your happiness, my lady.” He stood and went over to grasp Sutton’s hand. “My heartfelt felicitations, Mr. Sutton, on your coming marriage. I hope you find the same happiness Juliet and I possess.”

  Dazed, Sutton stood and managed to smile tentatively and return the handshake. “I believe we will, Morley. I believe we will. I do mean what I said.” He gazed frankly into Amiable’s eyes. “I believe the hand of God engineered the entire episode to make certain his children did not fall into folly.”

  Amiable nodded his head, his gaze straying to Juliet, who conferred with her friend. “I am not the most religious man, Sutton, but in this case I think you are correct.”

  “How did this come about?” Juliet asked, her excitement dying down a little. “How do you know Mr. Sutton?”

  The young woman blushed again and glanced shyly at her betrothed. “I met him the day after you were supposed to come to the house. Mr. Sutton came to call on you, and I had to tell him you had been detained. He looked so downcast, I invited him to take tea with Mamma and me. Just to cheer him up, of course.” The last phrase came out rather forcefully. Did she hope to assure Juliet no dishonorable conduct had occurred on her part? “We established we had several mutual friends and Mamma asked Mr. Sutton if he would accompany us to the theatre that evening, since we could not discover where you had gone.”

  “Did you send to the house, Honoria?”

  “Yes, of course I did. I received a note back from Grayson saying you had been called to your Aunt Phoebe’s home in Derbyshire and had gone there instead.”

  “I received the same message, Lady Juliet,” Sutton chimed in. “The next day I sent you a note here at Dunham House and received the same information.” He looked rather perturbed at the memory.

  Juliet smiled like a well-satisfied cat. “I wondered what story the servants put about to disguise my absence. I so wanted to cover my tracks, lest Philippe be able to pursue me.”

  Honoria clasped her hands and glanced at her friend. “I thought that would be the end of it, but Mr. Sutton called upon me and Mamma later in the week, to thank us for inviting him to the theatre. He had tea again and we fell to talking and discovered we both were passionately fond of gardening.” The girl’s blushing cheeks made her look even guiltier. “So we went out to the garden so I could show him the eglantine.”

  “What is an eglantine?” Juliet frowned and cut her eyes toward Amiable.

  He shrugged. He had no idea what Lady Honoria was talking about, but his curiosity had been piqued about more than the garden.

  “It is a rose bush,” Sutton interrupted, smiling at his betrothed. “Lady Honoria’s mother claims it is a cutting from a rose bush at Knowlton’s Keep, the Braeton’s estate in Sussex, and dates back to the Middle Ages.”

  “Oh.” Juliet raised her eyebrows at Amiable. “I didn’t know roses could be so old.”

  “It could be one of the oldest roses in England,” Sutton replied enthusiastically.

  “It is also called the sweetbriar rose,” Lady Honoria added, just as passionately.

  Amiable managed to catch Juliet’s eye and a bubble of laughter flew between them. “I never thought much about roses,” he admitted, smiling at the two horticulturalists. “Except to smell them.” He raised an eyebrow at Juliet, who grinned at him.

  “So you discovered a shared interest, Honoria?” Juliet cocked her head, a gleam in her eye.

  “Well, yes, we did and Ran…Mr. Sutton continued to call…to discuss the roses, you know,” she added lamely.

  Obviously, she and Sutton had become attracted to one another, even before Juliet had jilted him. A weight lifted from Amiable’s shoulders for the first time in weeks.

  “Yet you could not, in honor, speak to Lady Honoria of your increasing affection, Sutton?” Amiable wanted this point clear. Sauce for the goose.

  “No, of course not.” He sounded appalled, as though he’d been accused of actually doing so.

  “Then I am even more apologetic that Juliet feared to write and inform you of our marriage. You and Lady Honoria could have been less constrained in your interest for one another. It does seem as though the hand of God made certain everything would be right in His world, don’t you agree, Sutton?” Even though the episode remained a blot on his honor, he wanted Sutton to admit he too had erred.

  “Yes, Morley, I believe all is now as it should be.” Sutton looked askance at Juliet, who had leaned over to seize Amiable’s hand and press it passionately to her cheek. He then gazed back at the eminently suitable, decorous, unadventurous Lady Honoria.

  Amiable could almost see the sigh of relief.

  The two couples spent another twenty minutes of polite conversation before Lady Honoria rose and bid them farewell. Juliet promised to return the visit in a day or two. Once they had taken their leave, she turned toward him, delight evident in every line of her body.

  “Oh, Amiable. I am so very pleased Mr. Sutton and Honoria have developed a tendre for one another. It truly does seem as though our marriage was foreordained, don’t you think?” She smiled at him, her love shining in her face.

  His heartbeat stuttered.

  “I think it the greatest good fortune Mr. Sutton did not see fit to call me out, Juliet. He would have been within his rights.” Now the danger of such a challenge had passed, Amiable found himself more distracted by the sight of Juliet. They had navigated a vast ocean of time and travail since they had last been alone together, not counting last night.

  “Not if he courted Honoria while we were still engaged, which is remarkably like what he confessed to just now.” Juliet crowed h
er triumph. “He could not challenge you to a duel if he was guilty of the same crime.”

  Amiable fixed Juliet with a doleful stare. “I daresay we progressed far past any form of courting ever entertained by Mr. Sutton. Did he even kiss you, Juliet?” He shifted from one foot to the other. ’Struth, should he feel jealous or superior?

  Juliet grinned at him and moved between his feet until she almost touched him, the seductive scent of jasmine swirling around her. “Believe it or not, Amiable, yes he did. Twice, as I recall.”

  A pang—definitely jealousy—shot through him.

  “But the fact we kissed is all I can remember of the experience. Whereas, with your kisses,” her voice lowered, became huskier, “I can describe every single moment of them.”

  He gazed into the beautiful face he yearned to grasp.

  “How your lips enfolded me, how you tasted, how your tongue caressed…”

  “Juliet.” Amiable peered around, afraid the servants might overhear. Her words had other effects as well. His body had roused, just with her nearness. Her words threatened to make him forget his resolve for them to remain apart. They had been separated for almost a month. By God he was only human. She stood so close, and warm, and willing…

  She pursed her lips in a delicate pout, as though daring him to kiss her. “Oh, Amiable.” She fought against tears, her eyes bright with them. “I don’t want us to be apart any longer. Can you forgive me, my dear, for not telling you about Mr. Sutton? Especially as everything has turned out so well for us all?”

  So very tempting to take her in his arms and pronounce all forgiven. He couldn’t go back on his resolve, though, no matter how enticing her charms. He hardened his heart and stared unflinching into her eyes. “Your behavior was a gross flaunting of good breeding and manners, Juliet, and as such is totally inexcusable.” Her gaze fell from his and the lurch of his heart told him he could not sustain his anger for much longer. No matter what she had done, he loved her.

 

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