Juliet looked around again, brows furrowed. There was no one in sight and there could be no one hidden, for the surrounding area was laid out flat in the open. Pearl grasped at Juliet’s skirts, peering around her governess, more suspicious than curious now.
Kneeling down in the snow, Solomon reached his hand out to Pearl. He smiled despite what Juliet could only assume was a very uncomfortable cold wetness seeping into his black breeches at the knee.
“Do not worry, my dear Pearl. You know I would never lead you astray.” He spoke gently, flicking his fingers to encourage his niece forward. She eyed him for a moment before hesitantly wrapping her small hand around two of his fingers, stepping out from behind Juliet.
“There now,” Solomon continued. “You see, Pearl, I said we would be meeting a friend here. But the truth is, we must first bring this friend to life.” Juliet could see that he tried to be serious so as to lend the situation some sense of reality, but he struggled to keep his smile hidden. Juliet did not try to hide hers. Solomon looked almost like a schoolboy trying to hold back his laughter at some silly joke in the middle of a lesson. She had not seen him look so genuinely carefree, truly enjoying life, since she’d arrived in his home.
“What do you mean, Uncle Solomon?” Pearl asked, her suspicion back in full force. Juliet leaned her head to the side when Solomon’s eyes shot up to her, mimicking Pearl’s question with her expression. He gave Juliet that scheming smile she adored so much. That smile meant that something exciting was just around the corner. Then again, every day with Solomon in London had been thrilling, regardless of what they did. They always found a way to make their own amusement together.
Solomon pulled Pearl forward and stepped behind her, putting his hands on her narrow shoulders. He turned her this way and that in dizzying circles. Pearl’s sharp screeches and giggles echoed through the open air, her breath huffing out in little clouds all around her.
Finally the earl stopped, facing her in the same direction she had started, and patted her shoulders once more. “There, this should be about right.”
Pearl gazed all around her, wobbling slightly when she turned too sharply to one side. “But we haven’t gone anywhere.” She pushed her bottom lip out and Juliet could tell that the girl would soon grow bored of these tricks. Juliet caught Solomon’s eye, trying to convey this information to him without words. He winked and Juliet’s stomach erupted into a thousand tiny flutters. She called her feelings to order, taking his wink to mean that he understood he was testing the limits of Pearl’s patience.
Solomon took a step back from Pearl and clapped his hands together, the sound muffled by his thick gloves. “This is exactly where we need to be to bring our friend to life. We must make him ourselves—a snow gentleman!” he cried out, throwing his arms up into the air in triumph and excitement.
Juliet’s eyes went round with surprise, but soon Solomon’s proud smile reminded her that this was just the sort of silly thing her Solomon would love to do.
Her Solomon? Juliet shoved the thought away. He might have been her Solomon at one point, but she had chosen to give that up.
Pearl looked quite skeptical in spite of her uncle’s bravado. Juliet and Solomon glanced at each other and could not contain themselves. Solomon’s deep, hearty guffaw mingled perfectly with Juliet’s light, twinkling laugh.
“Let me explain,” Solomon stuttered as he tried to regain his composure. “The process of building a snow gentleman can be long, but it is quite simple. We need to roll three balls of snow, a big one, a medium one, and a small one. Then we stack the balls up to give him a body.” Pearl’s eyes went wide, her imagination coming alive. “After that, we must find some pebbles or bits of wood to give him eyes, a smile, and some buttons for his coat. Finally, we must give him a name. What do you think?”
Juliet almost felt emotional when she saw the way Pearl lit up, her smile so wide that it looked nearly painful. After slowly coming out of her shell and gradually coming to terms with her loss, Pearl had become an energetic and curious child. But Juliet had never seen Pearl look so positively thrilled.
Solomon turned to Juliet. He, too, looked emotional, his pride replaced by relief and contentment. He truly loved and cared for his niece; he wanted to bring her as much cheer as possible as often as he could. Juliet swallowed the tight knot in her throat as a vision of a long-lost dream flashed through her mind—Solomon looking at her in just the same way, but the child before them was their own.
“Let’s get to work, shall we?” He clapped again, pulling Juliet away from that dangerous line of thought.
They began the arduous task of rolling up the fallen snow into their snow gentleman’s body, having a jolly time despite their various challenges. Pearl struggled at first with how to properly pack the snow and more than one attempt at the snow gentleman’s base fell apart. But as they worked together, their friend slowly took shape.
Juliet had not laughed this much in quite a long time. In fact, she felt as though she spent more time laughing than actually saying anything of note. She simply had too much fun watching Pearl eagerly smack the round edges of the large ball, bits of snow flying everywhere. And of course the girl looked comical trying to bend down to gather more snow in her gloved hands, her thick winter coat restricting her movement.
Better yet, Solomon seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as Pearl. He, too, laughed without holding back, his lovely green eyes glowing in the sunlight, glowing with joy. He looked so much more like Juliet remembered—free, lighthearted, full of life.
After Pearl became familiar with the process, Solomon and Juliet stepped back to watch her work. Solomon’s chest heaved as he regained his breath, all spent on his laughter. His cheeks glowed red from the cold, but he looked so very happy.
“Did you build snow gentlemen frequently in your childhood?” she asked quietly, unable to tear her eyes away from him or suppress her adoring smile.
Solomon grew quiet and thoughtful, as if transported back into his memories. Juliet worried that she had made a mistake, but she did not interrupt his contemplation, allowing him as much time as he needed to gather himself.
“Yes,” he finally whispered. “Though it rather dismayed the countess.” His eyes wrinkled at the corners with amusement.
Juliet hesitated for a moment, then decided it would be safe to ask this question. “Did you and Ambrose build snow gentlemen together?”
The earl paused, staring ahead into the distance, his expression growing still. Juliet’s chest squeezed with panic. She must have upset him. Before she could apologize, Solomon’s mouth lifted at the corner in an almost imperceptible smile, his eyes softening.
“Yes, Ambrose and I built many snow gentlemen together in our youth.” He sounded a bit melancholy as he fondly reminisced.
The squeezing sensation in Juliet’s chest eased away. “I’m sure you both had so much fun and got into all sorts of mischief.”
Solomon’s smile grew as he turned to Juliet. “Yes, we certainly did.”
They gazed at each other for a long moment, simply taking each other in. Juliet allowed her eyes to roam freely over Solomon’s face, not caring that such an open stare was rude in general, but even more so when directed at her employer. For now, Solomon was not her employer, but a man she cared for deeply, a man who was hurting and learning how to heal.
Solomon’s eyes did the same and Juliet could feel him reacquainting himself with truly looking at her. He did not often look at her with such focused intensity. Juliet had always sensed that any time he did look at her, he did not allow himself to really see her.
“Thank you...for speaking about my brother,” Solomon finally broke the silence.
“There’s no need to thank me. In fact, I was worried that I’d spoken of him before you were ready.” Heat rose again in Juliet’s cheeks. She certainly hadn’t expected to receive any thanks, but she appreciated it all the same.
Solomon smiled, his expression sweet. “I’m thankful t
hat you reminded me of all the good times we had together. I wish there could be more, but I want to cherish the memories I have instead of letting them be clouded by my grief forever.” He stepped closer.
“There is nothing wrong with looking back with happiness,” Juliet reminded him. She, too, took a step forward.
“You’ve always known exactly what I need in any moment, whether it be comfort or a challenge. This time, you gave me a little of both. Really, Juliet, I cannot thank you enough.” Solomon spoke quietly, his voice sounding even deeper than usual. He stood nearly toe to toe with Juliet now, gazing down at her with something Juliet thought she recognized.
Her heart melted in response, a warm flood washing over her from head to foot as she gazed back at Solomon. She could tell that he meant it. She could tell that he’d become softened to her. Maybe they really were friends now...though, of course, her heart longed more than ever to be more than friends, to hold his hand and kiss his cheek, to be a comforting presence by his side for all their days.
Juliet searched her mind for something to say in response, something that would convey the depth of her regard for him without giving everything away. Luckily for Juliet, Pearl saved her from having to say anything.
“Uncle Solomon, Miss Richards!” she huffed. She’d finally noticed that they’d stopped helping. Leaving the snow gentleman to fend for himself momentarily, Pearl ran over to Solomon and Juliet, taking one of their hands in each of hers and pulling them back to their new friend. Solomon’s laugh rang out, loud and jolly, but he wasted no time in throwing himself back into work.
After several more minutes, they had made an impressive amount of progress. Pearl paused and stepped back, critically examining their handiwork thus far. Juliet loved that expression on her. Pearl was as silly and sprightly as any child her age, yet she had her moments of surprisingly mature reflection and remarks. It looked rather amusing on such a young face, but Juliet always took Pearl seriously whenever she slipped into this mood.
“He just needs a head now, Uncle Solomon?”
“That’s right. Then we just need to collect some pebbles,” Solomon answered cheerily, lovingly smoothing out the middle section of the snow gentleman.
Pearl frowned as she glanced from the last ball at her feet back to the nearly completed creature before them. “But won’t he be quite cold once we’re done?”
“Ah, too right you are!” Solomon valiantly jumped up, removing his hat and unwrapping his scarf. He handed them to Pearl for safekeeping. “We will gift these to him so he can stay warm.”
Juliet bit her lip to stop herself from grinning. She found it so charming and selfless that Solomon would offer his own clothing, exposing himself to the cold, to ease Pearl’s worries. Of course, Solomon noticed her expression and he grinned widely enough for both of them.
Together, Solomon and Juliet finished rounding out the smallest ball. Solomon hoisted it up, carefully placing it atop the middle section. He nodded his approval at their handiwork. Juliet could picture him doing just the same thing as a boy.
“Are you sure you won’t be too cold, my lord?” Juliet asked when she noticed Solomon shiver slightly as a breeze floated by.
“I am perfectly fine, I promise.” He quickly returned his attention to the snow gentleman, growing quiet and focused. Juliet did the same, peering around to the other side to smooth away any lumps.
“But,” Solomon soon continued, “if you feel so bad for me, perhaps we can share the hardship a little.”
Juliet looked up with a frown, about to ask what he meant, but as his conniving tone registered, Juliet froze. This gave Solomon the perfect opportunity to touch the tip of her nose with a clump of snow he’d collected on his glove.
A sharp gasp escaped Juliet at both the cold and the action. She stared at Solomon, eyes wide and mouth open as she processed what he’d just done. When Solomon giggled like a mischievous child, Juliet’s own laughter burst forth, far too raucous for a proper lady. Perhaps today she need not worry about being a lady, an example for Pearl, a governess. Today, she could just be herself—a woman who reveled in the company of the people she loved.
She and Solomon used to laugh like this whenever they pleased. Every time he’d caught her trying to cover her mouth or stifle herself, he’d encouraged her not to worry about such silly rules in his presence. When they had been together, they could be themselves. And they had laughed so very much about anything and everything.
Juliet could not think of anything she wanted more in this moment than to see Solomon’s old cheer shining through again.
“Me next, please!” Pearl jumped forward, beaming up at Solomon.
“Are you sure, love? It will be quite cold.”
“Yes, please! It looked like so much fun when you did it to Miss Richards!”
Solomon glanced to Juliet as if asking her opinion. Juliet simply shrugged with a bemused smile. With that decided, Solomon gathered some more snow on the tip of his gloved finger and touched it to Pearl’s nose.
“It’s cold!” Pearl squealed, squeezing her eyes shut and hurriedly swatting at her nose with her own gloved hands.
“Do not blame me! I did give you fair warning,” Solomon roared with laughter. Pearl and Juliet joined in, their voices filling the air with merriment.
“Allow me, dear miss.” Solomon kneeled down in the snow again, residual chuckles still vibrating through his body. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Pearl’s nose, giving it a playful pinch that sent Pearl into a new round of giggles.
When he stood back up he turned to face Juliet. He adjusted the handkerchief, choosing a new corner, and did the same to Juliet. He gently brushed the soft gray fabric over her nose. Their eyes connected for a brief, breathless moment.
Juliet’s heart hummed. Perhaps they really could enjoy their old familiarity again.
Chapter 8
Sunlight lazily filtered through the window of Solomon’s study, bathing him in a surprising but welcome warmth. He sat back in his chair and stretched his arms out ahead of him. The window provided him a generous view of his vast lands. The snow had melted away, revealing mostly brown grass with fresh green patches springing up here and there. In the distance stood the orchard, neat and tall as ever, the trees still mostly bare. When Solomon squinted, he could see a few brave leaves beginning to unfurl.
Spring was settling in at Palgrave Castle and Solomon welcomed it. He and Ambrose used to go wild once the snow melted and they could release their boyish energy out in the fresh air again. This spring would be fine indeed. Solomon could feel it in his bones.
Only one cloud loomed over his thoughts—the impending London Season. He would have to return, alone, as he always did. Mother had only spent part of a Season in London the year after her official mourning period for Father had ended, but she’d found it utterly disagreeable. She hadn’t been back in London since, clinging to the quiet company of her country friends. After having Pearl, Ambrose and Florence had preferred to stay at their estate or else in Brighton, Bath, or with friends all around England during the Season. London would certainly be unsuitable for a little girl and her governess.
As Solomon stared out the window, he tried to imagine what he would do while in London this year. When not attending to the matters that his title required, he typically filled his days with carriage rides or escorting ladies to plays or dancing the night away. He never found a lack of ladies who wanted to spend time with him, which Solomon found to be a good excuse to get around Town and have fun.
Of course, that was how Solomon preferred to think of his frivolous engagements and he knew that everyone else in Society saw it that way, too. A few members of the ton found Solomon’s behavior to be impolite, considering how quickly he seemed to go from courting one woman to the next. In truth, Solomon didn’t consider anything he’d done to be courting—not since Miss Woolmer or Juliet. But he did not wish for anyone else to learn the truth, the truth he could barely face himself.
H
e did enjoy spending time with beautiful ladies, many of whom could hold a decent conversation. He could participate in as many social activities as his calendar would allow. Solomon knew, very deep down, that in every brief flirtation, he still held the faintest hope that perhaps this could be the woman who would cherish him, the woman he could be himself with, the woman he could give his whole heart to.
He always found out, usually sooner rather than later, that the ladies did not really care for Solomon. They cared for the Earl of Overton. And when they slipped up, revealing their true intentions with him, he slipped out of their lives, leaving the supposedly heartbroken lady to be soothed by some other man, probably with a lesser title or fortune.
This year was different. The prospect of escorting ladies around London or even getting to take part in all his favorite city pastimes held little interest for him now. He really only wanted to escort one particular lady around and share those pastimes with her.
While he would normally be counting down the days to his departure for London with excitement, Solomon found himself counting down the days with a mounting trepidation. He wished he could spend this spring and summer at home—with Juliet.
“Oh, drat it all,” Solomon muttered to himself as his thoughts drifted from the Season to another cloud that he soon realized loomed over him. He needed to finish planning his ball—the first since Ambrose’s and Florence’s passing.
Solomon had felt immensely guilty at first when he’d remembered his annual spring ball. It would be his first public event since losing his brother, the family having just come out of official mourning. When Juliet had asked him what troubled him on the day it finally came back to his mind, Solomon had told her, without hesitation or fear, exactly what he thought and felt.
And Juliet, true to her golden heart, had reminded Solomon that Ambrose wouldn’t want him to grieve forever. It would be a good way to reintroduce himself to company—all people he knew very well and felt comfortable with—before leaving for the wider world of London. She’d even suggested having a tribute of some sort for Ambrose and Florence at the ball, so they could be there in spirit.
Embracing The Earl's Dream: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 4) Page 10