The Baron in Bath - Miss Julia Bellevue: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 4)

by Isabella Thorne

  “Well, have you spoken with the man since? Inquired as to his feelings for the girl?” Keegain asked. He looked from Jane to Julia, and Julia felt she had to speak for herself. She was not a girl. She was a young lady, and she had not been a child for a very long time.

  “My Lord Brother, if our trip to Bath has taught me anything at all,” she said, “It is that I am quite unskilled in all social matters but I do know that it is not my place to speak of marriage. It is the man’s purview to ask if we should wed and he has not done so.”

  “Quite,” Keegain said with a huff. “You have not received any word at all? Not even a note?” He glanced at Jane for an answer.

  “No,” Jane said.

  “No,” Julia repeated.

  “Well a man of four and twenty should be able to at least send a message,” The Earl groused.

  “Missus Poppy said a man of forty could barely be trusted to send a message,” Julia blurted, and The Earl sputtered a moment and then laughed heartily as if Julia had made some great joke. She smiled in spite of herself.

  “We did leave Bath in quite the rush,” Jane added. “The rumors grew ugly, very fast. Perhaps a letter will follow us.”

  “We shall send our own letter,” The Earl said decisively. “Or rather our sister shall send a letter.”

  “Surely not,” Julia said. “I would not know what to write.”

  “Can you not write from your heart?” he asked. “Does not such emotional language come easily for young ladies?”

  “I couldn’t,” Julia whispered a blush rising again. “He is so…” She broke off, with a sigh, a dozen adjectives flooding her mind. She could not choose from them. He was so handsome. Virile. Compassionate…

  Keegain exchanged another glance with Jane.

  Jane looked closely at her sister. “Julia, have you fallen in love with Lord Fawkland?” she asked.

  Julia could not answer, but after a moment she nodded. It was a wonderful, terrible feeling and she was quite sure he did not return the sentiment. If he did, he would have asked her to marry him.

  “It must be a carefully worded letter, then” Keegain said nonplussed. “We cannot ask outright what his intensions are; well, I suppose I could, but I think a letter from you would be better received. But you also should not appear to be begging. You are a Bellevue.”

  Julia glanced at Jane, who nodded at her. Julia wanted to believe she was truly a Bellevue. She could give no more credence to the talk of the Ton. All they ever said were lies, but she did not know how to go about writing this letter. She was quite sure it would sound like she was fraught with anxiety. She felt truly desperate. How could she appear not to be begging, when that was exactly what she wanted to do? When had this happened? When had Lord Fawkland become so important to her? When had she fallen so in love with him?

  “We must send for Fawkland,” The Earl continued. “and settle this matter post haste. Julia, perhaps you will better be able to put your sentiment into words with a little time to consider. You will be able to better organize your thoughts on paper so as to say what you truly mean.”

  Julia nodded. She wasn’t sure she was truly up for the task, but she would try. She half expected to be handed a parchment on the spot. Jane certainly would have done so, but Lord Keegain suggested a walk in the garden. The out of doors always helps me to think,” he said kindly. “Perhaps it will have the same effect on you little sister.” He helped Jane to her feet just as the butler entered with a card on a silver platter.

  “My Lord, A gentleman has just arrived. He says he is The Baron of Fawkland, and he is quite insistent that he be allowed to see Miss Bellevue regardless of the late hour.”

  “Oh!” Julia said. She had gone suddenly pale and her stomach engaged in acrobatics.

  “He is here? Now?” Jane said voicing Julia’s thoughts exactly.

  Julia could not quite wrap her mind around the fact that he would arrive so late. It was already dark and as safe as the journey usually was, no one brought a carriage out at night unless it was an emergency. There was the danger of highwaymen, but even a rut in the road caught in the dark could be a disaster along a country road at night.

  “Show him in,” The Earl said. “See to his horse and carriage, and have White find something for his manservant.”

  “Begging your pardon, my Lord,” the butler said. “I was unclear. He did not bring a manservant, nor a carriage. He arrived on horseback.”

  Well, that explained his late arrival, Julia thought but it did not explain why Lord Fawkland was here at all. Was it possible that Lord Keegain was right? Did he not hate her for all the trouble she caused?

  She had no time to puzzle this through before Lord Fawkland strode through the door. His riding boots had lost their shine. She had never seen him so rumpled. His breeches were stained with spots of road grime and his cravat looked like it had been re-tied in the dark. He had never looked so wonderful. He greeted The Earl and Jane, hastily, but his eyes were only for Julia. She felt the intensity of his gaze like a physical touch. His face split into a smile, and Julia stilled her feet. She wanted to run to him. Instead, she gave a slight curtsey.

  “Lord Fawkland,” she said.

  He strode forward and took her hand to kiss it. He smelled of sandalwood, and more strongly of leather and the outdoors scent from his ride, but mostly just of him. She closed her eyes as he kissed her gloved knuckles and, and for the first time he held her hand a bit too long, as if he did not want to let her go. His fingers tightened on hers momentarily and then he released her.

  “I do apologize for coming before you in such a state Miss Bellevue, but I felt I must speak with you in all haste, and you had already left Bath.”

  “Yes,” she said. She looked more carefully at his face then. Even in the candlelight she could see the dark smudge beneath his eye, and that his lip was slightly swollen. “So it is true that you did not simply have words with your brother,” she said.

  “Sadly yes. I am afraid that only the intervention of some gentlemen who stood outside the ballroom kept the altercation from turning truly ugly.”

  “Do sit,” Jane invited, ever the hostess. She rang for a maid, and instructed her to bring tea and sandwiches although they had just eaten.

  Fawkland thanked her and seated himself on the edge of a wing chair. He brushed his hand over his thoroughly wrinkled cravat.

  “I hate to speak with so little tact, Lord Fawkland,” Keegain said, “But this has been a rather unusual few days and it is obvious as I venture a closer look at your face, that you were obligated to leave Bath, much as my wife and sister were, so I hope you will forgive my forthrightness. After the scene last night and your brother’s forward courtship of our sister, I think it would be best for you to propose in all haste or remove yourself quite out of sight until the rumors die down, for both yourself and Miss Bellevue.” Keegain’s tone was the same no-nonsense one that their father had used when he expected things to go the way he wanted them to.

  “Lord Keegain, please,” Julia said aghast. She did not want Lord Fawkland to be coerced into marrying her. In fact, she was not sure this was the best course of action. Keegain had his reasons for being so forward; heaven knew Julia could not afford another mark against her reputation, but this was not how she had imagined the evening progressing.

  “I agree,” Fawkland said to Lord Keegain, “And that is in fact what I came here to do. Though you have quite spoiled the moment,” Lord Fawkland said. He rose from his seat and came around the side table to stand beside Julia’s chair. She found she was trembling, unable to look at him.

  He waited a moment. Then when it became clear she would not even lift her eyes from the ground, he knelt down. Julia had no choice but to look at him now. She gasped. The movement brought back the moment when Cedric had knelt so at the ball, and she could not stand it. She stood and pulled away. “No!” she said.

  At the stricken look that immediately filled his grey eyes, she knew she had made a mistake.
He looked like he had been struck. Her hasty words were ever the bane of her existence. She had never meant to hurt him. Was it possible that he truly had feelings for her? She took a breath. She had to fix this, and speaking was the only way she could do so.

  “A moment..,” she said more softly. “I know… I know that I should accept your kind proposal without hesitation.” She paused a moment collecting her thoughts. She did not want a proposal out of pity for her situation or because he felt responsible for his brother. She did not want a marriage of entrapment. Julia wanted more than that. She had always wanted more…a man who was kind as well as strong…a man she loved. She had to explain.

  “I should accept,” she said again, hating that she could not make the words come out of her mouth and her hesitation was bringing him pain. “That is what I should do,” she continued, “but if I am to make a decision that affects my entire life here after, I would ask for a moment to speak with Lord Fawkland.” She glanced at Jane and then at Lord Keegain. Her voice was soft but determined. “He has ridden through the dark to speak with me, and he is right. We do need to talk.” She looked at Jane. “Please, may we have a moment of privacy?”

  “A walk in the garden perhaps,” Jane said.

  “An inspired idea, I would love a walk amongst your roses,” Lord Keegain said as he stood and took his wife’s hand. He gave Lord Fawkland a hard look. “We will grant you privacy in your speech, but I expect you to keep our little sister in sight. She has been hurt enough.”

  “I do not plan on harming her in any way,” Lord Fawkland said.

  “Most men never do,” Keegain replied.

  They stood to leave the parlor, when they met the maid bringing in the tea set. “I’m sorry,” Jane said. “We will have tea shortly, and the sandwiches.”

  “Yes, Mi’lady,” the maid said glancing at The Countess and then the young couple who had proceeded into the garden.

  ~.~

  Chapter Six

  The smell of the roses was sweet as Julia and Lord Fawkland walked a bit into the garden. Only a few torches were set. Jane and The Earl stopped near the garden entrance and sat on the closest bench.

  Julia found her voice as she and Fawkland walked a little further and then paused by a second bench, just inside the torchlight. “I feel I must apologize, Lord Fawkland, for the trouble I have caused you,” she began.

  “Apologize?” he said with a frown. She realized he still misunderstood. The look of pain was still on his face and she wanted to wipe it away. She caught his hand in hers. It was very forward, but some of the pain left his face and in its place, a look of uncertainty.

  “We left Bath so quickly,” Julia said. “I only thought of escaping rumor.” He tightened his grip on her hand just a little and it gave her strength.

  She took a breath and continued. She had to explain. She had to explain it all. “I did not expect Mr. Gruger to propose. You must believe me, until he knelt before me in the ballroom, I had no idea his thoughts were turned that way.”

  Fawkland grimaced but did not interrupt.

  “I meant to write to you. I did. I was planning the letter this evening. I was thinking of what I would say… I just…” She stopped and took a breath.

  He waited for her to collect her thoughts, his hand on hers, a comfort. He was so patient; so kind. She looked up at him in the moonlight and completely lost her train of thought. He was so handsome. His lip was a little swollen and she wanted to touch it; to ask if it hurt. The thought of lips went immediately to the thought of kissing. She wanted him to kiss her and she felt her own lips part, just a little. The tension fair crackled between them, but they both knew they were in sight of Jane and The Earl.

  Lord Fawkland cleared his throat.

  “I didn’t,” she began again. “I didn’t mean to cause further damage to your reputation,” she said.

  “My reputation?” he replied. “You were thinking of my reputation when Cedric left yours in such tatters.”

  Now Julia grimaced. “I know mine is now also soiled…” she began.

  “No, you shall not take the blame for him.” Lord Fawkland spat. “My brother is a bloody arse.” He took a quick breath through his nose. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bellevue” He said, immediately apologizing for his foul language, but Julia was glad to know she was not the only one who occasionally blurted things without thought. Her lips curved into a smile.

  “I should not have said that. Cedric brings out the worst in me I’m afraid. But you are not to blame for his faults. Nor our quarrel. In truth the fault resides with me,” Lord Fawkland said running hand over his cravat, pulling the knot askew.

  Julia realized it was something he did when he was nervous.

  “Our father died when Cedric was still only a child and I fear, I myself, was still too young to teach him discipline in spite of my attempts at severity.”

  Julia nodded. “I remember. You were the new baron,” she said “Just back from the Royal Navy. I told your brother how handsome you were in your uniform. I had a…” She bit her lip as he looked at her now, his eyes appraising her.

  “An attachment,” she admitted softly.

  “Did you?” He said. He looked surprised, but his eyes twinkled with joy. “You could not have been more than eleven. You were a tiny thing.”

  “Twelve.” She never remembered herself as tiny. She had been even taller than Cedric at the time. But perhaps from the viewpoint of grown man…of seventeen, she counted the years in her head. He had seemed so grown up and ridiculously handsome in his blues, and then the black.

  I was seventeen,” Lord Fawkland said. “I was so frightened. I did not know how to be the baron, but I knew how to keep my little brother in line, or so I thought.” Lord Fawkland gave a small shrug. She remembered Lord Fawkland being so firm with Cedric. Her admiration for Lord Fawkland had only soured when she thought him unkind. She knew now it was Cedric who was unkind. Lord Fawkland had never been anything but the perfect gentleman.

  She remembered how he looked at seventeen…that day. A little uncertain, but determined, much as he looked now, she thought. Perhaps she was right. People did not change.

  “I thought you were so grown up,” she said.

  “I thought you were brave,” he answered. “Lying for my brother. Defending him. I wanted to inspire such loyalty in him, in my command… I remember you standing in the kitchen one evening confessing to hiding the kitchen knives when I, and all the kitchen staff knew full well that it was Cedric who had taken them,” he said. “But you took the blame.”

  She didn’t know he knew that. That was earlier. She must have been nine…no…ten at the time. She thought that the older brother had taken no notice of her, but somehow he had.

  “I wasn’t lying,” Julia said. “I did help him bury the knives in the garden,” she said. “I thought it was a lark.” She paused wondering where this conversation was going. “What did he do with them?” She asked somewhat nervously. She hated that her mind when to darker things.

  “Cedric was angry because he could not go riding, so he decided no one would ride. He cut through the leathers of a number of girths and stirrups. A job you would not have had the strength or wherewithal to do at the time even if you had stolen the kitchen knives.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” she asked think that riding with a cut girth was a dangerous thing.

  “No. The stable master found the damage before there was an accident.”

  The silence stretched for a moment. The same stable master who had taken down her dolls down from the rafters where Cedric had hung them. For she now was certain it was Cedric not Godwin that could be so cruel.

  “He was angry that you curtailed his fun,” Julia said. “Just as he was angry with me when I would take my dolls and play with the Poppy sisters rather than him. He blamed you then, but it was Cedric who broke my favorite doll. He said he would be my friend…anyway…even though no one else would.” Julia bit her lip.

  Lord Fawkland’s face cloud
ed with anger.

  “It is no matter,” she said laying a hand on his. “It was a childhood slight. It is nothing.”

  “It hurt you.”

  “You have your own hurts,” she said, slowly an idea forming in her mind. “Your own rumors.” The Ton called Lord Fawkland a rake, it was said he had a bastard child. She could not believe such behavior of Lord Fawkland, but she felt she may have found the kernel of truth within the lies.

  “My doll was not the last time your brother has let someone else take the blame for him, is it Lord Fawkland?”

  He did not answer at first, and she feared her hunch was wrong. Dare she say it? “I defended Mr. Gruger,” she continued. “I lied for him, but he was my friend. Friends do not betray one another, nor I should think, do brothers, not if they have any kindness in them.”

  Godwin shook his head.

  “I do believe now, Lord Fawkland that the stories of you and your brother are entirely reversed, but the tales of the Ton lie between us and if I am to marry you, I need to know the truth, from your own lips. Let there be nothing false between us. You promised me that.”

  He nodded sadly. “The tales have grown so tall. It started with a single child, but I suppose that was not enough of a scandal. As with any bit of gossip, it grows like a wild thing.”

  Her heart sank believing the worst. Could she forgive him a bastard child?

  She didn’t know, but she had to give him and herself the chance. “People make mistakes,” she said softly. She wasn’t sure she was talking about herself or Cedric or Godwin. She only knew that the woman, whomever she was, and her child would have happened before their marriage vows. If he would only be truthful, she would try to forgive him. She didn’t know if she would succeed, but the possibility of a future with Godwin seemed worth the effort.