Emily Hendrickson (21 page)

“As you wish, Julian,” she said, ducking her head so he lost sight of her expression. Drat, was she hiding her dismay? Or showing pleasure? He wished he knew.

Julian watched her enter the house with a bemused gaze. So much had happened in the last day he scarcely knew if he stood on his head or his heels. But one thing was certain, he had fallen into no bad situation through the maneuvering of two who sought to sow disaster. They may even have done him a favor.

Turning his horse in the direction of his modest city dwelling, he decided his first action would be to write his father. That done, he could confer with his solicitor, having sent off a message to that worthy gentleman first thing this morning.

While mounting the steps to his house, then strolling into his study he considered how pleased his father would be and grinned. Why, the old man might increase his funds even before the wedding. Not that Julian was anywhere near to being below the hatches. No, he’d invested his quarterly payments wisely, if discreetly, on the ‘change. In fact, he was a wealthy young man if you added in the properties bequeathed to him by his mother and grandmother.

He did not need to marry for money, as did Sir Augustus Dabney. Which brought to mind another matter Julian wished to settle. Dabney ought to be made to see the error of his ways. His attempt to compromise Chloe had been a near thing. Although, Julian reflected, he supposed that any chap hard put for money needed to find an heiress if possible. On second thought, perhaps one could be found for him, a plain but worthy girl.

* * * *

“I cannot fathom why Mr. St. Aubyn asked you to marry him, just like that,” Laura said. “You are not plain—indeed, you have blossomed greatly as of late—but you are not a diamond of the first water, either. And you must know that he usually courts those fashionable widows.”

“But gentlemen rarely marry those fashionable—and available—widows,” Chloe reminded her friend.

“If you mean they are too available, I confess I do not know what that means. I heard Mama say that once, but it is Greek to me,” Laura complained, then sipped her tea.

“Well, I suppose we will someday.” Unable to conceal the truth from her dearest friend Chloe set her teacup on its saucer, then folded her hands in her lap. “You most likely wish to know the whole of it.”

Not bothering to ask what “it” was, Laura nodded eagerly.

So Chloe quickly detailed the tale of how first Aunt Elinor tried to trap Chloe into marriage with Sir Augustus. Then, when St. Aubyn prevented that from taking place, he had found himself trapped instead.

“How dreadful,” cried the romantic Laura. “I should not like to marry a man who is so reluctantly my groom.”

Chloe did not say a word about the tender kiss, for that was far too precious to be bantered about, even to her best friend.

“Well, we have a plan, you see. If all goes well, we will be able to get an annulment once my mama comes back from her wedding trip.”

“I think it is amusing…your mother and you both on wedding trips at the same time.”

“Well,” Chloe confided, “Julian and I plan to spend our time hunting for evidence of a murder.”

Chapter 12

“With a scoundrel?” Laura shrieked.

“He will be my husband by then,” Chloe gently reminded, settling on a comfortable chair near the window. She picked up a shawl to place about her shoulders when the wind outside caused a draft from the window.

“But who…why…how?” a confused Laura demanded.

“You know how I feared Lord Twisdale? Well, Julian and I feel strongly that he murdered his wife.” Ignoring Laura’s horrified gasp, Chloe forged on. “That is why you must do all you can to depress his interest—and you might try sneezing,” Chloe inserted thoughtfully. “At any rate, there is absolutely no way of knowing unless we investigate. And what better to keep us occupied while in the country?”

“On your honeymoon?” Laura gave her friend a wryly skeptical look. “I was given to believe that a young couple had little difficulty in keeping occupied. Somehow, Mr. St. Aubyn seems rather inventive.”

“Yes, well, perhaps. But you must have guessed that Julian does not truly wish to be married to me.” Chloe nervously pleated the skirt of her fine green-print muslin gown. “He was excessively gallant when Grandmama confronted him in the Sefton library.”

“He had no choice!” Laura exclaimed.

“Well, I must confess that I had far rather marry Julian than Sir Augustus, who was Aunt Elinor’s choice,” Chloe said in a vast understatement of the truth. Then she reflected, “Did you see how utterly furious she was when she discovered that Julian St. Aubyn stood at my side instead of the peacock?”

“Fancy being wed to that preening creature. I hope,” Laura began, then hesitated. “That is, I trust you will be happy being married to Mr. St. Aubyn.”

“As to that, time will tell, I suppose.” Chloe rose from her chair to pace about the room. “Now that I am settled, as Grandmama is fond of saying, I am to have a splendid wedding gown. I will select something simple, for I have no wish to look silly. You well know what Society will say—that I have trapped a fine gentleman and that they expect him to plop me in the country while he gallivants about town. Why should I parade about in finery?”

“You want to look well.”

“Julian,” Chloe’s cheeks turned a trifle pinker at the mere thought of him, “is coming over later to discuss the settlements, my jointure, and the like. He also said something about a family betrothal ring that I am to wear. Oh, Laura, it all seems so final.”

“Soon you will be a wife and before long a mother,” Laura said with a hint of envy in her voice.

At that bit of plain speaking, Chloe turned away, certain she must be as pink as a damask rose. However there truly was no need for blushing, for she would free St. Aubyn to go where he pleased. She would not be the mother of St. Aubyn’s children.

The girls continued to discuss the wedding arrangements for some time, debating on what Chloe’s grandmother might plan, for they both knew the old dragon would wish to foil gossip and do things up right.

“Thanks to Mrs. Robynhod I doubt we need to make an announcement,” Chloe concluded sometime later.

“Mama said it was in the morning paper,” Laura revealed. “St. Aubyn must have sent it over.”

Chloe shook her head. “Not on your life. I fancy he keeps hoping something will happen to prevent the occasion from arising. Grandmama sent a notice off last night—even at that late hour. She wanted to get a march on the gossips.” She exchanged a knowing look with her friend.

After promising to keep all they had discussed a deep secret—especially the part about Lord Twisdale murdering his wife—Laura slipped from the house. They had agreed to shop together if possible. One never knew about Mrs. Spayne.

Left alone with her unwelcome thoughts, Chloe wandered down to the ground floor, peeking out of the window at the passing carriages and wondering what the coming days might bring. When a carriage she recognized halted before Dancy House, she stiffened. Since it would not do to be found peering out at the passing scene, she quickly found her needlework and seated herself on a chair near the window so to take advantage of the light.

Scroggins ushered him in shortly.

“St. Aubyn,” Chloe said in a soft cry. Her needlework forgotten, she rose to greet him.

“I thought we had agreed on Julian and Chloe,” he retorted, striding across the room to reach her side. The heels of his Hessians made clicking sounds until he reached the soft plush of the Turkey carpet. Dressed in his customary gray coat, deep gray pantaloons, with a wine-and-gray weave waistcoat, he was all elegance and polish. And he looked rather formidable, promising to keep her grandmother in line. At least Chloe hoped so.

“It is difficult to be so informal when I have had otherwise drummed into my head for years. Julian. Is that better?” She could not resist his smile and looked at him with more affection than she had intended.

“I like the way you say my name,” he said by way of reply. He bent over her hand, lingering close to her side as though he wished to do something more. “And I like your scent of heliotrope. I shall buy you gallons of it so you may bathe in the stuff.”

“Sir, you put me to the blush.” Chloe tugged at her hand, confused by his warm look and flustered at his mention of so intimate a subject as bathing.

“Ah, my little maiden,” he said with a chuckle. Then he dug into his pocket to pull out a small velvet box. “The ring,” he explained unnecessarily.

Chloe bit her lip, wondering why she felt so strange. Normally this would be a binding act, putting on the betrothal ring. Yet, in spite of the fact she intended to set him free, a part of her wished that she would truly be his wife. What a pity she loved him so dearly.

He removed from the box a simple gold ring ablaze with a fine emerald in its setting. “A ring has no beginning and no end, it represents eternity, perfection, and unity,” he said quietly, as though making a vow. Slipping it onto her finger and seeming satisfied with the fit, he then tilted up her chin with one finger. “And we shall seal that with a kiss of promise.”

There was no way that Chloe could have joked her way out of this predicament if she had wanted to. Before she chanced to reply, he had gently touched her vulnerable mouth with his warm lips. Chloe was sunk without firing a shot.

She could not prevent her trembling, for he had that effect on her. She acknowledged that it might not be so bad a thing to have a husband as skilled in kissing as Julian. Then, forgetting all about her resolves to the contrary, she abandoned herself to his delicious expertise, wrapping her arms about him, threading the fingers of one hand into his hair, so she might not disgrace herself with revealing her weakening knees. And she would consign all thought of odious Aunt Elinor to the refuse heap.

Julian reveled in the innocent response of his little bride-to-be. How different her eager kisses were from Elinor’s practiced wiles. When he sensed a faint withdrawal in Chloe, he pulled away to study her flushed, rosy face.

“What happened just now? What thought came into your head?” he gently demanded, not releasing her, for who knew what notions she had, or when someone might come to interrupt them.

“Are you a mind reader in addition to all your other abilities?” she blurted out.

He gave her a little shake. “I would know this. Humor me?”

She looked away from him, withdrawing from his light clasp. He watched her walk across to stare out of the window and his heart sank a trifle.

“You were very close to my Aunt Elinor, I know.” With a glance back at him she shook her head, adding, “ do not wish to know precisely how close, sir, but...she is very beautiful and no doubt skilled in the art of lovemaking. Whereas I am a rather green girl and do not know how to please an experienced man such as you.”

He made an effort to deny her words, taking a step in her direction, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“Perhaps—if we are to plan for an annulment—we had best leave off such delightful things as kissing. Once the omission in the banns is revealed, you will be free—free to go your way as you please.” She gave him a frank smile, one a trifle sad at the corners. Her lovely greenish blue eyes met his gaze briefly before skittering away to focus on the blank wall.

Julian froze in his steps, deeply touched. She was the first woman he had known who was willing to place him before herself and her wants. All the others had made seemingly insatiable demands on him—for his gifts, his time, and most of all, himself. All Chloe desired was to set him free, to be and do what he wished. And he found that he knew not the least desire to be free of this charming girl.

But, how to convince her of that?

“Your Aunt Elinor is beautiful, I’ll admit. However I have no desire to spend the rest of my life with her. I think you and I might rub along tolerably well together.” He wanted to express his true feelings for Chloe, but how on earth could she accept what he said when he had been with her aunt not so very long ago? And she well knew it!

No, they would proceed with the wedding and he could take his time convincing Chloe that he loved her quite madly. Why, he would have all the time he needed at his disposal and she would then be his.

“Speaking of that, I thought perhaps we could go to my estate in the country for our honeymoon,” he ventured to offer.

The sight of her pretty pink cheeks amused him when she replied, “I thought that was what we had agreed we might do—so as to hunt down the clues to the real reason Lord Twisdale’s wife died,” Chloe said with an obvious attempt at being serious.

Julian was about to reject that idea when the thought suddenly struck him that it would be a clever way to disarm Chloe, to keep her so occupied that she would have no idea what he was up to—namely persuading her to fall in love with him.

“Ah, you think he killed her. How?”

Diverted from her forthcoming marriage for a moment, she took a step closer to Julian. “Well, how does one go about eliminating an unwanted wife?”

“How should I know? I don’t have one,” Julian teased.

“You will,” she reminded him. “What about arsenic—is it not called inheritance powder for good reason?”

“As to that there are a number of herbs I have read about that are most effective poisons and leave little trace of their presence.” Julian considered the idea she presented. “Although if he were cruel, he would not worry overmuch about that, would he?”

“Remind me not to displease you, sir,” she said with a lift of her brows.

“You brought the subject up, if you recall,” he reminded.

“Well, it is something to keep us busy while away.”

Julian was about to inform the pert Lady Chloe that he had more interesting ideas about how to occupy their time when Scroggins entered the room, coughing discreetly against his gloved hand.

“If you please, sir, the Dowager Lady Dancy will see you now. She wished to know if your solicitor is to be with you.”

Julian glanced at the long-case clock by the door. “He ought to be here any minute. Show him to me when he arrives.” When Scroggins had bowed his way from the room, Julian turned to Chloe.