The sights of London rolled past the carriage windows — magnificent homes, parks, and carriages of every size and description. Some of the equipages were tooled by their owners, gentlemen in capped coats with their tigers, young boys whose duty it was to hold the horses when their masters stepped down, while others were driven by top-lofty servants all in identical white wigs. As they left the better district behind them, pedestrians filled the streets, soberly clad merchants and clerks brushing elbows with vendors of hot pies and flowers, candy confections and hand puppets, ribbons and glass beads. There were a scissors grinder and a tinker, an old-clothes man and a trio of jugglers, all luxuriating in the balmy day as the sun ascended toward its zenith.
Julia stared about her and even exchanged a remark or two with her hostess, but she scarcely registered what she was seeing. If Rud was wealthy, he could have loaned her an amount sufficient to have set herself up in a comfortable boardinghouse with a companion. That he had not made the offer could mean one of two things: either he did not expect Napoleon to reimburse her, making it impossible for her to pay back the loan, or else he had planned to make her dependent on him for the purpose of collecting a different kind of repayment. Supporting the last theory was the fact that he had even married her to make it legal.
No, that did not quite dovetail. Given the circumstances, he need not have married her at all. He could just as easily have set her up as his mistress and taken what he desired by force. He had not. Instead, he had made her his wife, presented her to his relatives, and treated her with every respect and consideration. If he desired her, it was not an overpowering emotion. He insisted on a certain show of intimacy between them; still, she would call his attitude toward her a strange combination of compassion and exasperation.
Compassion was another word for pity, something she did not need. Marcel was not dead. She had suffered no permanent hurt at his hands. Already, the bruises were fading; soon, they would be gone. There were other things that required her attention. The man who had made himself her husband, for instance. Whatever his reasons for it, he might find, before all was said and done, that he had gotten more than he had bargained for.
The morning sped past in an exhausting round of fittings. Julia chose three day gowns, a pair of gowns for evening, and a traveling costume, plus the undergarments to complement them. The addition of a dozen pairs of black silk stockings, several pairs of gloves, two bonnets, one with upstanding plumes and one with knots of lute-string ribbon, a nightgown, and a fine woolen shawl in shades of white, gray, and black would, she was certain, not only fill out her wardrobe, but also give Rud a disagreeable surprise when it came time to pay the bill. Leaving the shop of the modiste, they frittered away another two hours ordering kid slippers from a cobbler’s shop and strolling through a warehouse, putting themselves in the way of irresistible bargains in ribbons, mantillas, lace berthas, handkerchiefs, and sundry other small items, which could be expected to enhance the fashionable appearance of the purchaser.
It was midafternoon before they turned homeward. Julia, though pleased to have completed an unpleasant task, was tired and hungry. She leaned her head back on the squabs of the carriage with a sigh.
“Yes, I know,” Aunt Lucinda said with sympathy. “It is most fatiguing. Still, I believe the gowns you ordered, especially the twilled French silk, will prove vastly becoming. If one must go into black, it is a great comfort to know that one is at least wearing the latest mode. I hold no brief for those who recommend retreating into dowdy melancholy. What good does that do? The purpose of fashion is to make a woman feel better, and when could she need it more than when in mourning?”
Julia smiled in polite acquiescence, though she was not so sure she agreed. She would have liked nothing better than to retreat into private grief, dowdy or otherwise. Unfortunately, events prevented such a course.
“I am somewhat concerned about the nightgown you chose, my dear,” the older woman went on. “Surely, it was not necessary to go so far? You are a bride, after all. One could not blame Rud for objecting to the observance being carried into the bedchamber.”
Julia had not considered that possibility. After a moment, she shook her head. “I doubt he will mind.”
“Perhaps, he won’t,” Aunt Lucinda said, though without much conviction. “I am a meddling old fool, I know, only I can imagine what my Thaddeus would say if I should dare!”
Julia tried to visualize Rud’s easygoing uncle making a scene over a nightgown and failed. She could not help smiling at Aunt Lucinda’s expression of comic dismay, however. “I suppose I will have to wait and see,” she said.
As she spoke, she glanced out the window at a carriage that had swung out to overtake them. It was a nondescript vehicle with nothing about it to distinguish it from a thousand others. Mud spattered the body, clinging to its cracking paint, and though the horses were strong and swift, they were not noticeably fine. It was the passenger, leaning to peer into their carriage, who attracted her attention. He was a burly man, with a large chest and a huge flat face edged with a scraggly beard. A dark hat was drawn low on his narrow forehead, shading small black eyes narrowed to the slits of a hunting animal.
Involuntarily, Julia drew back. Aunt Lucinda turned her head, attracted by her sudden movement.
“Dear me,” the older woman said. “What a fright it is, to be sure. Servant class, from the cut of his clothes. I wonder what he can be doing dashing along the roads, forcing people to give way to him? Nothing good, I’ll be bound.”
With a small sniff, the other woman dismissed the man, but Julia found she was unable to do so. That searching, malevolent stare remained with her long after they had reached the mansion in Berkeley Square and she was safe inside.
Rud was not in when they returned. He had received a message during the morning and, immediately afterward, had gone out. “Business with his ship, I suppose,” Aunt Lucinda had said, and Julia had not contradicted her, but she was certain the message had been from the Bonapartist following in England. The next step of the great adventure had begun.
Julia was sitting before the dressing table with the maid, Rose, engaged in putting up her hair when Rud returned. One of the gowns she had ordered, an evening gown of Armesin taffeta, had been delivered about teatime. It, along with a morning gown of tussah silk, had been put together for just such an emergency as that faced by Julia. They had required no more than the taking in of a few seams to be ready to wear. She had whiled away the afternoon trying on the two gowns, then as the dinner hour drew near, bathing and making herself ready to go downstairs. When Aunt Lucinda had offered the services of the maid to do her hair, she had accepted gratefully, since a style less severe than a knot on the nape of her neck had appeared in order. She might have contrived something presentable without help, since she was quite capable of dressing her own hair, but it was easier to allow the nimble-fingered little maid to give her a coiffure of London elegance.
A frown drew Rud’s brows together as he saw the black underdress she was wearing, then he strolled toward her. The maid moved aside at his approach, busying herself with pins and the combing box.
Stepping behind Julia, Rud took her bare shoulders in his hands. As her startled gaze met his in the mirror, he smiled, then leaned to press his lips to the smooth curve of her neck. Though the spot his lips had touched seemed to burn, Julia schooled herself not to move. She could not control the color that stained her cheekbones, however.
“Where have you been?” she asked, as he raised his head.
His glance flicked to the maid and then held steady on hers. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
She nodded, realizing that his reticence confirmed her suppositions.
Moving away, Rud rang for a bath, then threw himself into a chair. With his feet stretched out before him, he watched the finishing touches being applied to her hair.
“I see you had a productive morning,” he commented, indicating her underdress with a curt gesture.
&nbs
p; “Yes, I found everything I needed.”
“I didn’t realize you would plunge into it at once.”
Her voice carefully neutral, Julia explained how that came about, adding, “Naturally, I must begin wearing black as soon as possible. I have felt guilty enough in colors these past weeks since my father’s death.”
When he did not comment, the maid seized the moment to say, “There, madam, that is done. Shall I help you into your gown now?”
“That will not be necessary,” Rud answered for Julia. “I will give my wife any further assistance she may need.”
Julia sent him a swift glance, but his face was impassive. She could hardly argue with him in front of the servant. With a nod and a smile, she dismissed the girl. The instant the door closed behind her, Julia got to her feet. Back stiff, she moved from the dressing room into the bedchamber.
Rud followed, standing in the doorway, leaning with one shoulder against the jamb. “I thought you were interested in my whereabouts today,” he said, his tone mocking her retreat.
Julia swung to face him. “You made contact with the Bonapartists here, didn’t you?”
“I did. I was given the address of a rooming house, and a time. If you had been here, we could have gone together. As it was—?”
“I understand,” she said, though she could not disguise her disappointment. “Who was there? What is happening?”
“There were a number of people there, not all of whom were known to me. Our host was General Baron Gaspard Gourgaud. Robeaud was there, also Marcel de Gruys, though he seemed to be a bit stiff in the back. It appears he is still with us despite the lack of encouragement from you. I expect the size of his investment weighed heavily in his decision to adopt a sporting attitude.” Ignoring her flash of indignation, he went on. “He was not at all happy to see me. The announcement of our marriage which appeared today in the Times had made him somewhat resentful of my presence.”
“Announcement? I haven’t seen it,” she said, frowning.
“I assure you it is there.”
“Are you certain that was wise?”
His face bland, he said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What I mean is,” she said with care, “won’t making a public announcement now cause difficulties later?”
“Difficulties? Of what nature?” he inquired, folding one arm over the other.
“With an annulment,” she cried, feeling as if she had been pushed into a corner.
“There will be no annulment.”
His voice had a hard ring, a final ring. Julia stared at him, trying without success to find some meaning other than the obvious one in his words.
“I don’t understand you,” she said at last. “You cannot wish to remain tied to a woman you hardly know for the rest of your life.”
“I have known you for several weeks now. By the time this is over, I will know you better still.”
“Was that a veiled threat? “You may not like what you discover,” she said tartly.
“I’ll take my chances.”
She would not be daunted. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
“I appreciate that,” he said, a slow smile rising into his eyes. “It should help me to remember to keep a sharp eye on the carving knives.”
He lounged in the doorway, his tall form filling the opening, the image of assurance and leashed strength. The teasing light in his sea-blue eyes gave him a perilous attraction. For a fleeting instant, Julia was aware of an unsuspected danger.
She turned sharply away, saying over her shoulder, “How is M’sieu Robeaud?”
“Well enough, the same as when you saw him last. He has settled into a rooming house not far from where Gourgaud is staying, and he assured me he was quite comfortable there.”
“This meeting today — what was the purpose of it?”
“In the main, to make de Gruys, Robeaud, and myself acquainted with the others. Baron Gourgaud also outlined his progress in persuading the British that he had truly broken with Napoleon. He read the drafts of several articles, which will appear in the news sheets, articles denouncing his former master. He told us also of the questioning he has undergone by Lord Bathurst of the Colonial Foreign Office, and of the carefully constructed bits of information he had been instructed to place before the gentleman, items of little value, or else known to him already.”
“Poor Gourgaud — it must be terrible to be looked upon as a traitor to all except a chosen few,” Julia said.
Rud agreed with a nod. “He feels the stigma of it greatly, I know, for he said even the British who seek to use him do not bother to hide their contempt.”
“It will only be for a few months. By the end of August, he will be able to tell the truth and take his rightful place beside the emperor.”
“And claim his reward?”
“To serve the emperor is reward enough for some,” she said with a lift of her chin.
“It may have to be,” he replied almost to himself, and moved to open the door as a knock heralded the arrival of his bath water.
The acute embarrassment she had felt the day before, when Rud had undressed before her, had faded, but still she retreated to the dressing room. There she busied herself with rice-powder papers, rouge pot, and hare’s foot while he indulged in his daily ritual of cleanliness.
It was unusual, to say the least, to find a man so fastidious in his habits. Her own father, in the sweltering months of summer in New Orleans, seldom troubled to bathe more than twice a week. He had been amused by the time and trouble the captain expended for such a purpose on board the Sea Jade. To Julia, every bit as particular as the captain, the ease with which he could order salt water heated for his tub had been a source of envy. She had disliked asking the man who acted as Rud’s servant to perform the same service for her, but, being without a maid, she was forced to make the request. At last, Rud, discovering the difficulty, had given instructions for a tub to be prepared for her each day at the same time as his own.
That was all very well when they could repair to separate cabins, but such a habit had done nothing, but cause difficulties since they had begun to share the same room. With a wry shake of her head, Julia turned from the mirror.
Her task had not lasted long enough. She emerged from the dressing room while he was still chest-deep in the copper tub. With barely a glance in his direction, she moved past him. She had borrowed a novel from Aunt Lucinda that afternoon, which should serve to pass the time and give her someplace to look. Locating it, she turned in the direction of the sitting room.
“Where are you off to?” Rud asked. “Stay and keep me company. Tell me about your outing this morning.”
Without turning, Julia said, “You would not be interested. We only visited the milliners and modistes.”
“And, the cobblers, if I know my Aunt Lucinda. Her small foot is one of her few vanities, I believe. There, you see how much interest I can summon if I make the effort?”
The sardonic tone of his voice told Julia plainly that he did not expect her to stay. It had also the effect of putting her on her mettle. With sudden decision, she stalked to the slipper chair and sat down upon it.
“Very well,” she said. “What do you want to know?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing him hesitate, though the moment was so brief, she could not have noticed if she had not been watching for it. She caught also the hint of satisfaction that moved across his face before he took up her challenge.
“Whatever there is to know,” he said. “I am ready to take an interest in anything you do.”
“Well said,” she told him, her tone shaded with sarcasm. “You must remember how you did it for when you have an audience.”
He shook his head. “I think it needs a bit more practice first.”
Her wintry smile failed to ruffle his composure; he only sat waiting for her to begin. Sighing, she complied.
With some idea of preparing him for the amount of money she had spent, she began by t
elling him of the gowns and hats and shoes she had ordered. She omitted nothing, describing every item in minute detail, even to the underclothing and nightgown Aunt Lucinda had viewed with such doubt. If Rud was going to find fault with the last item, it was as well to get his objections out of the way before bedtime.
He frowned, casting what she could only describe as a disparaging look at the black underdress she was wearing, but when he spoke, it was on another subject entirely. “After your exertions, I’m surprised you didn’t take to your bed and have dinner served on a tray.”
She smiled a little. “The thought crossed my mind. Your aunt has invited guests for this evening, however, and we are expected to put in an appearance.”
“I should have known,” he said with a groan. “If I don’t make a move, we will be late downstairs, and then we will be in her black books.” He surged to his full height with effortless ease. “Toss me a towel, will you? I believe it’s your turn to play handmaiden.”
Julia did exactly as he had requested. Taking up a towel from where it lay across a chair, she threw it at him. Though she instantly averted her eyes, she was aware of the brief, wolfish grin he sent her as he caught the length of linen in one hand.
She had been on the verge of telling him about the strange encounter that morning with the hideous man who had overtaken their carriage. Now, the incident went completely out of her mind. She swung away, her eyes searching for something, anything, with which to occupy herself until he had donned his clothing.
Her gaze fell on her gold bee, which lay on the table beside the bed, gleaming in the light of a candle. That morning she had worn it fastened to her shawl; tonight, it would look better on its usual ribbon about her throat. Grateful for this small task, she moved to pick it up.
“You are attached to that piece of jewelry, aren’t you?” Rud said in a conversational tone.
“Yes, I must admit I am. It — belonged to my mother.”
“Your mother? Odd. If I had been going to guess, I would have said it had something to do with this campaign to free Napoleon. The bee was his symbol, was it not?”
Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets) Page 13