by Aileen Fish
"Not that I recall. I was quite young when he left us to join the cavalry, though. But when he visited, he seemed to laugh as much as the rest of us."
Julianna smiled. She and Clemmie had laughed often when they'd played in their nursery, but were expected to sit quietly and properly with their parents. She couldn't recall the last time she'd heard her father laugh. "You must have had a delightful childhood."
"As the youngest, I was usually being blamed for what the others had done. Thankfully our governess observed I was the studious one, and knew who better to blame." Evie's face glowed as she spoke. "But I wouldn't change any of it, not even for all the books in London. Did you and Clementina get into trouble often?"
Julianna shook her head. "I'm not certain if it wasn't in our nature, or if Papa's disapproval meant that much to us. We were so eager to please him, yet he wasn't often given to praising our efforts."
"How sad. I think I shall always be praising my children. I fear I might spoil them if my husband is not stern enough to make up for my light hand."
Julianna toyed with a loose curl near her ear. Evie sounded eager to begin her family after all. Was Julianna truly the odd one, then? "Are you looking forward to your first Season?"
"Yes, very much so. My cousin will have her come out then, too. We shall have so much fun going to the balls and walking in Hyde Park. I can't wait to go back to Gunther's for ices. And Mama always lets me purchase a new book or two when we're in London."
Not one mention of the young gentlemen to be met. Perhaps Evie was not so unlike Julianna when it came to love. "What of the young swains? Is there anyone you're hoping to meet, some titled lord you've read about in the papers?"
Evie tilted her head. "I haven't thought much on it. There will be so many men. I'm sure to find one who doesn't bore me silly."
Julianna laughed. "That is all you require in a husband?"
The girl's cheeks colored beautifully. "I don't know what I require. Surely I'll know when I meet him. What about you? Why are you unmarried? Don't tell me it's because you live with your aunt and can't go to London. You're pretty enough to find a beau without leaving your home."
Now it was Julianna's turn to blush. "You exaggerate. But I did have a few beaux when I was in London. There was nothing about any of them that stood out, though. I couldn't see choosing one to spend my life with, when any of them would just as easily have suited. I can walk into the modiste's and find one pattern that stands out from the others. Surely there must be a man I could feel the same about."
Evie's eyebrows rose and a giggle escaped her. "You can't mean it. You can't compare finding a husband to buying a new gown!"
"I suppose I can't. But there is my point. Perhaps I'm not meant to marry. I don't dream of having children, I dream of visiting Vienna."
"You could go to Vienna on your wedding trip," Evie suggested. "But what will you do with the rest of your life if not have children?"
Julianna had hoped Evie, of all people, would understand. There must truly be something lacking in Julianna to not long for a family. "I'm beginning to ask myself that very thing. I almost wish I had stayed with Aunt Phillips. You see, I had decided never to marry. And was quite content with that decision."
A knowing light brightened Evie's face. "Do you mean to say you are developing an attachment to Nash?"
Leaning back in her chair, Julianna closed her eyes. "I am not at all certain what I mean."
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Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Nash slowed to a more respectable pace and walked down the hall to the drawing room where everyone gathered before dinner. He was quite pleased with his afternoon spent in the nursery. Frank and Everett were beyond enchanted with the idea he proposed to them for the Twelfth Night entertainment. All he'd had to do was display the toy swords to gain the boys' attention.
Keeping their attention was another story, but what they would lack in polish, they'd more than make up for in enthusiasm. Nash would practice with them each day and hope they wouldn't forget all when they stood in front of a crowded room. His mother and their guests would enjoy the result no matter how it turned out.
Nash hadn't realized how long he'd taken in changing for dinner until he saw everyone else had already come below stairs. One could usually count on a sister or two to be the last to arrive. No one commented on his tardiness, so he located Geoff. "Did Mother tell you I'm helping the twins with an entertainment for the party?"
"She did. Whatever did she threaten to gain your assistance?"
"Would you believe I volunteered? And I wasn't even foxed. I can't say I'm certain what's come over me since I returned home."
"You can't? I could venture a guess." Geoff leaned back briefly, giving Nash a clear view of Lady Julianna sitting with her sister.
"Don't be absurd. If I wished to marry, I'd be better off choosing a young lady who was also looking to marry." Or so he'd been telling himself hourly.
"If marriage is your intent, I have no objection. I might even be convinced to assist your suit."
Nash raised a brow at his older brother. "You think me incapable of winning her on my own?"
Geoff grinned. "Just as I suspected. You can't hide anything from me. Even Mother has mentioned you two have been seen walking together. If you aren't careful, Lord Carrington will call you out."
"For speaking to her in passing when I discover her in the park? Don't make me laugh. If I had done anything untoward, you and Father would have called me on it days ago."
When dinner was announced, Nash turned to follow the others. Geoff stopped him with a soft request. "I only ask that you be sure of your heart before you involve hers."
Nash nodded silently. He'd been advising himself the same thing. All he knew was every moment spent talking to her led to hours spent thinking about her.
As luck would have it, he was seated beside her at the table. After listening to the conversations around him, Nash leaned closer to Lady Julianna. "I wonder if you've considered the difficulties you might find when married to the man you seek."
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin before speaking with a pleasant expression. "I've thought of little else. Such as, will his valet continue to polish his armor, or will that task be given to me?"
Nodding, Nash said, "Yes, that would be important to know. As would, does he sleep in his chain mail?"
"Now you're being silly, Mr. Sinclair. What sort of man would sleep in chain mail?"
"I admit, I know of few men who even own the suits. It would take the appearance of Brummell in such costume to bring the style back."
From the corner of his eye, Nash saw her smile grow. She quickly hid it behind her glass as she sipped. "I prefer gentlemen who aren't creators of fashion. One who knows what is appropriate to wear to various occasions."
"I see. I shall add that to my list."
Lady Julianna took a slow spoonful of her soup. "Your list?"
"If I'm to find your ideal husband, I must know what qualities you find desirable. Beyond his propensity for stalking reptiles."
"Oh yes, of course. Well then, let me think on it. I should like him to be tall, please."
Julianna seemed intent on her meal, continuing to eat gracefully, unaware of the many conversations around them. He'd barely tasted his own food, although he'd eaten plenty judging from the number of times he'd lifted his fork to his mouth. How did one accomplish anything when one's mind turned to porridge like this? If Lady Julianna agreed to become his wife, would he be able to return to his normal routine?
If she turned him down, would he be able to shut the door on his thoughts?
A footman set a plate of meats in front of Nash. He stared at it before reaching for his fork. "I wonder if cook has a recipe for roast dragon loin."
Lady Julianna coughed and brought her napkin to her lips. When her breathing returned to normal, she spoke softly. "I should think the meat would be better stewed."
"Dragon fricassee. Or a ragout, what do you think?"
<
br /> "The fricassee gravy would probably do better at disguising the gamey taste."
Nash stroked his chin. "I wonder what the average age is of the dragons your gentleman has killed. He must have a very large smokehouse. Or do you suppose he is the generous sort and shares his hunt with his tenants?"
"Of course he is generous. I wouldn't consort with any other type."
After chewing a few bites of what he was fairly certain was pork, he had a thought. "Do you suppose his tenants remain long on his land? What with his generosity, of course. As his wife, you'd be required to eat what he provided and be happy for it. But the tenants took no such vow of obedience."
A sound very close to a snigger came from Lady Julianna, who quickly reached for her napkin. "That is something I hadn't considered. Perhaps my knight is bound to render all his game to the king. We must raise our own pigs and beeves to feed our family."
They continued their silly talk through dessert. His mother's voice interrupted their imaginings and Nash realized it was time for the ladies to retire to the drawing room. He quickly stood and helped Lady Julianna from her chair. He couldn't recall a more enjoyable meal since the days of eating with his brothers and sisters in the nursery.
Chapter Six
Wishing to spend time with her namesake niece, Julianna made her way to the nursery after breakfast, stopping by her room to pick up a book. She noticed a sheet of paper on the table beside the chair. Obviously a child's drawing, the sketch was a rather detailed depiction of a dragon in flight. Flames shot from the open mouth.
She had no question as to who had placed the drawing in her room.
She set the paper down and hurried to the nursery, not wanting to think about why Mr. Sinclair would give her such a gift, nor the implication giving gifts implied. Was he courting her?
Little Julie came running into her arms when she entered the room. Julianna's heart filled with joy at the tiny arms stretching to reach around her. "You play with me?" her niece asked.
"How could I not? I must make up for all the months I have to be away from you."
"Why can't you live with me and Mama and Papa? You may share my bed."
"May I sleep there when I visit? Aunt Phillips would be very sad if I didn't return home soon. She lives all alone."
Little Julie struggled to free herself and took Julianna's hand. "Come read to me."
Following her niece, Julianna chose a book from the shelf and curled into the window seat with the little girl beside her. She turned to the last page she'd read and began to recite. After a few pages she realized the room was unusually quiet for morning. Glancing about, she noticed the older children were missing. She asked the governess where they were.
"They've gone off with their uncle, my lady."
Which of the gentlemen had taken them away? And why did she care? As much as she enjoyed each and every child, she spent little concern on how they were entertained each day. There were simply too many to keep track of. The poor young woman given their charge deserved an extra month's pay for the number of children in her care during this visit. Clemmie's nursemaid had her hands filled with Edward, and Julianna wasn't quite sure why Mr. Peter Sinclair's governess was not present. But it was none of Julianna's concern.
About the time she began to notice the chill of sitting by the window, the nursery door opened and the six older children rushed in, screaming and bouncing in their excitement. Little Julie, whose head was resting on Julianna's shoulder, sat up, suddenly more awake. "I play with Frankie now."
Julianna smiled, wondering how the wild boy felt about his cousin wanting to follow him around. "Go ahead."
Frank waved a wooden sword in the air. "I'm Captain Sinclair. Give up your arms!"
Mr. Sinclair walked up behind the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Not in front of the little ones, my boy. You'll give them a fright."
Was Mr. Sinclair's rank that of captain? How like him to not use his rank now that he'd left the army. As the two oldest boys ran off to find something, she spoke to their uncle. "You didn't keep them outside long enough. They can still run."
He chuckled. "I believe I understand why the Lord gives us babes to practice on. Nine-year-old boys require all-together too much energy."
"I discovered the drawing in my room this morning. I assume you put it there?"
Mr. Sinclair walked up beside her. "Guilty as charged. I thought it might keep your Mr. Pulk in mind."
"You're afraid I might forget him?"
"No, no. I merely wish you'll be certain what it is about him you admire. Have you been out in the park at all today? There's a bit of warmth now that the clouds have cleared."
"I would enjoy a stroll. Let me put on my pelisse and bonnet."
When she met him at the top of the stairs she realized he smelled of fresh air, and it struck her as much more attractive than the colognes often doused too heavily on the gentlemen of the ton. She shook off the thought and followed his lead on the path around the house.
"We can sit in the walled garden. It's almost pleasant there."
"Almost?" She laughed. "You make it sound most tempting. I long to be almost comfortable."
"Are you not, here?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Are you not comfortable here? Away from anything familiar. So far from your home. Do you prefer to stay at home?" He shook his head. "But no, you've said you would enjoy traveling, visiting new places. So it isn't the unfamiliarity giving you discomfort."
Mr. Sinclair stopped at the stone bench near the bare skeletons of rose bushes and motioned for her to sit. She did, turning to face him slightly. "I was making fun. I am quite comfortable in your family's lovely home. My sister and parents are here, as are my niece and nephew. I've known your family these past five years."
"Well, then. I'm relieved to know it."
"What were you and the children doing when you had them outside?"
He gazed off in the direction of the water fountain which was dry for the winter. "Oh, you know how they are. We battled the enemy, ran with the hounds, and defeated a warlord. A typical day's work for younger sons."
"My, you're a very accomplished lot. Julie and I merely read a book."
"She is rather young still. I'm certain before long you'll have her painting and singing and working on her stitches."
He was right. One day Julie's father would be the earl. Her life would be preparation for finding a suitable husband, running a large household or estate. Just as Julianna had been taught. How would Julie feel about her fate when she made her come out?
Julianna bit her tongue. She must stop bemoaning the fact she'd had a privileged upbringing. When she tried to think of polite conversation, her thoughts went directly to Mr. Sinclair, himself. "Were you a captain before you sold out?"
"Yes. I was in the 13 Light Dragoons."
"Evie told me about the battle where you were injured."
"Did she? I'm surprised. My family avoids the topic, at least when I'm around."
She straightened the closure of her pelisse, feeling a draft on her limbs. "As she told it, you weren't comfortable discussing it. Perhaps they simply try to respect your feelings." Realizing how that sounded, she took a deep breath. "Which is not to say I don't respect them."
He turned his head, catching her gaze. "I would never think that of you."
"There is more to you than the witty dandy you present yourself to be."
Mr. Sinclair rose, tugging at his waistcoat, and then lifting a foot and buffing a spot on the toe of his highly-polished Hessians. "Me, a dandy? Is that truly how you see me?"
"No, silly man. I said there is more to you than that."
"But you believe me to spend too much time on my appearance?"
Was this his way of changing the subject? Should she let him do so, or ask him her questions about his time in France? She didn't wish to be rude. Yet she couldn't contain her desire to know him better. "I—I'm not quite certain how I see you, if you must know. You h
ave me quite addle-pated. I only sought to sketch your character, much as you've been doing mine. It's only fair you answer my questions as I have yours."
He straightened and turned away, as if studying the maze in the distance. The air seemed to grow colder, and she wondered if the congeniality they shared had suddenly fled. Had she pushed too hard? This very situation was what she had avoided by remaining in Lyminster when invitations to house parties arrived. Not that she ever expected to meet a gentleman such as Mr. Sinclair, but she didn't know how to speak with him beyond the pleasantries of the drawing room.
"I'm not a war hero, you understand."
"I think all men who go into battle are heroic."
"They're not. Some might have dreams of glory, but they lose them very quickly. The battles are interminable, broken by monotonous days of travel through muddy fields. The water in our canteens was filled with grit, and I won't subject you to the details of our rations. Men fall on one's right and left and when the shooting halts, one can't be certain if the blood on his uniform is his or another's."
He bit his tongue. "I am so sorry. A lady shouldn't have to hear such descriptions."
Lady Julianna shook her head, and Nash wasn't certain if the glassiness in her eyes was from the cold, or tears. At least she wasn't growing faint at the mention of blood. She watched him for a short time before speaking. "I asked about the war. I can't very well expect you to censure your response. I once heard my aunt's friends speak about a woman who'd gone into battle with her husband. I couldn't determine whether that was the most selfless act, or selfish."
It surprised him she could see beyond the woman's viewpoint. "How so?"
"Of course it would be selfless to be there to take care of him. But can her husband turn his attentions fully to the fight when he must watch to see she is not injured in the volleys?"
Nash nodded. Daily Lady Julianna surprised him with her insights and thoughts. Did his sisters have discussions such as this? Since they'd grown old enough to leave the nursery, he'd only been privy to the light chatter suitable for polite society. Perhaps it wasn't too late to get to know them better. "I cannot say what makes a man permit—" he held up a hand to stop the retort he expected. "Yes, in this case I say permit. His job is to protect her, and allowing her to risk her life beside him can't be a hasty decision."