Authors: Jane Charles
No. Not until they were back in England. Then he would tell her the truth of why he was here.
“There is someone I planned on visiting before I returned home.” It wasn’t a lie because he did need to meet with others.
“You intend to go back to England?” she asked quietly.
“I must. I have been gone too long as it is.” Acker shifted to cradle her face in his hands and kissed her.
Juliette melted against him. When he moved to deepen the kiss she pulled away.
“Why kiss me if you are leaving?”
“I wish you to go with me?”
Her spine straightened, which Acker was coming to learn Juliette often did this when going on the defensive. “As what?”
He didn’t have the answer any more than she did.
“Your lover? A mistress?” she demanded.
Why did it sound degrading when she actually voiced what he had yearned for all along?
“Yes,” he answered honestly. “But I want more as well and I wish I had the time to remain in Milan to know you better to determine what future we might have.” If only he had time to discover where exactly Juliette belonged in his life but he couldn’t ask her to marry him. Not yet. Not until he considered all the ramifications of marrying a common ballerina.
“And when you tire of me?”
He couldn’t imagine that ever happening and a smile pulled at his lips. “How are you so certain I will? How do you know we won’t be together forever?”
“You would expect me to remain your lover while you take a wife?” She scooted away from him. He hadn’t thought what would become of them when he did marry. He wasn’t even certain Juliette wouldn’t be that wife. He needed time to sort it out, but the option wasn’t available to him. “No,” he finally answered. Regardless of who he married, he would never keep a mistress.
“Then you marry and I am left alone in London, in a position that I must find another protector in order to survive.”
“Not necessarily,” he argued as she pushed open the door.
She hopped to the ground and glared back at him.
“Please, don’t go. Let’s talk…”
“There is nothing to talk about.” She slammed the door of the carriage. “Arrivederci, Viscount Acker.” With that she ran up the steps to her home.
Acker sighed and fell back against the squabs and pushed his fingers through his hair. He had truly muddled things this time. “Bloody hell.”
*
Juliette stepped inside her home, which had been overrun with chaos since she left. The few servants they had were stacking crates in the parlor and all of her mother’s personal items had been removed from the shelves. She went from room to room. It was the same in each one of them.
Why had her mother decided to move again? Was it because of her involvement with Lord Acker? If so, where were they going next and would she be able to dance?
Slowly she drug herself up the stairs, afraid of what she might find. If the lower floor was already packed, in all likelihood the bedchambers were as well. If anything, her mother was efficient when it came to moving after having done it so many times. The entire household could be packed and ready within hours.
Her sisters stood at the entry of their rooms dressed for travel. “So soon,” Juliette cried.
Maman sailed out of her bedroom, also dressed for travel. “Yes. We will leave once you are changed.”
Juliette blinked at her mother and then sisters. She was tired of moving and it was already late into the evening. Couldn’t they wait until tomorrow to take up residence in their new home?
“Hurry, Juliette.”
“Yes, Maman.” Juliette plodded into her room. All she really wanted to do was crawl in her bed and sleep for a week. The devistation that Acker wanted her only as a lover stabbed through her heart, mixed with Carlo’s anger when she rejected him. He had never given her any indication he thought of her any more than a dance partner. Juliette simply wanted everyone to leave her alone and never see a man for as long as she lived.
Maria was standing in her room, having put the last of her things in the trunk. A traveling dress of slate grey was laid out on the bed, along with sturdy boots, gloves and a hat.
“I’ve packed everything you might need, Miss Mirabelle.”
“Thank you, Maria.”
“Let me help you change your clothing. Your mother doesn’t want a moment wasted.”
With a sigh, Juliette let the cloak drop from her shoulders and allowed Maria to help her change into the traveling gown. If this much effort was going into packing a small trunk for what they may need to travel to their new home, they were not simply moving across town. The last time they had packed in this manner was when Maman decided to move from Paris to Milan. Where were they going now?
Her mother and sisters were waiting for Juliette in the foyer when she came downstairs.
“Be sure to have everything delivered to the shipping office. I will send the address once we have found a house.”
“I will,” Greco, their butler responded. “All will be taken care of pursuant to your instructions.”
“When the house is sold, take your salaries and deposit the rest in my account.”
The man nodded.
“You may stay on as long as it takes to find new positions. I’ve left letters of reference for each of you on my desk.”
“Gracie,” Maria said from her place on the stairs beside Juliette.
“Thank goodness you are ready, Juliette. We must be off.” With that her mother turned for the door and glided out and down the stairs to the waiting carriage.
The sisters followed. “Where are we going?” Juliette whispered to them.
They both shrugged and followed Maman into the carriage.
Once they were settled and the horses moved into traffic her mother clapped her hands together. “Guess where we are going?”
The sisters exchanged looks.
“Home.”
“Home?” Juliette asked. Which home? She had lived in dozens of them.
“England.”
Each of them suffered a sharp intake of breath.
“Long ago I was exiled from England. The gentleman who made that happen is now dead. None of us have anything to fear any longer and it is time we returned.”
Spring, 1814, London
Acker stood at the window in the library and looked out at the moonlight shining down on Berkley Square. A year ago today he first saw Juliette as she gracefully danced across the stage. He had made so many mistakes where she was concerned and so much had changed in the past year.
The certainties he believed in were washed away by the mere repeat of vows.
He had believed that he and Eleanor would marry and one of the reasons he could not ask Juliette to be his wife. Eleanor was now the wife of his close friend, the Earl of Bentley and happier than Acker could ever remember seeing her. He and Eleanor may have been content together, but never happy. Eleanor would never have loved him. At least not the way she loved Bentley and Acker simply had wanted to marry her to make her life easier. It wasn’t a horrible reason, but it wasn’t a reason to wed either.
He tossed back what remained of his brandy and poured another. If he were honest with himself, that wasn’t the sole reason he did not ask Juliette to be his wife. He feared ridicule by the
ton
. How would they react if he married a ballerina? He had been such a fool and he had lost her.
Where had she gone?
It was a question he had asked himself dozens of times over the last year. When he went to her home the day after she left him alone in the carriage he found the house empty of all but servants and crates of belongings. Nobody knew where the family had gone and the servants were awaiting instructions. Acker had called every day before he was forced to travel onto Prussia but no word had been received.
Knowing Juliette would dance wherever she lived, he hired investigators to search for her among the largest cities on the Continent, but she had not been found. Now he was into a new Season, already bored with the balls, entertainments and debutants being presented and Juliette was still missing.
“Drake, you are not dressed for the Richmond Ball,” his mother scolded as she sailed into the room.
“I am not going.”
“What? But you must!” she cried.
“Why?” Acker sighed but he already knew the answer.
“You are not getting any younger. You must marry, and you need an heir,” she wagged a finger at him.
Three and thirty was not that old. He had plenty of time to marry and produce a passel of children if he wished. The difficulty was he thought he wanted Juliette as the mother.
His mother strode toward him. “You’ve not shown an interest in any young lady. Not during the Little Season after you returned, nor this Season so far. Even when you believed you and Eleanor may one day wed, you didn’t ignore the debutants.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair and returned to the sideboard to refill his brandy. Perhaps he wouldn’t know love, at least not like his parents. It was a depressing thought.
“Who is she?”
Acker turned, glass in hand. “Pardon?”
“I asked, who is she?”
“I am sure I don’t know what you mean.” Did he dare tell his mother about Juliette? What would she think?
Mother crossed her arms over her bosom and narrowed her eyes. That look used to make him cower when he was a small boy, not that she would ever hurt him, but the narrowed eyes and pursed lips were enough that he did not want to risk any further displeasure.
“Since you have returned you’ve no interest in Society or even your friends, other than that house party you hosted when you returned last summer.”
Yes, the house party. He had wanted to reconnect with his friends, put Juliette behind him. He thought he was going to be with Eleanor until he realized she was in love with Bentley, and Bentley her, even though the man didn’t realize it yet.
That was also the time he learned the secrets of Bentley’s family and that his mother was very much aware that the late Lady Bentley and her daughter had not died when their carriage went over a bridge but that they had run away to France. Acker recalled the conversation as if it occurred yesterday. He had been meeting with Bentley when his mother arrived. Lady Bentley, Adele, had been taking Julia, who was only two or three at the time, and running away from her husband because he had taken a willow switch to Julia. The two had gone to Paris and remained there until she was eight and ten, just like Juliette.
“How old would Julia be now?”
She frowned. “Four and twenty, or perhaps five and twenty. Why do you ask?”
Was it possible?
No, he shook the thought from his mind. “It isn’t important.”
His mother settled into the dark green chair. “I daresay it is, or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“A mere curiosity.” Mother would think him a fool.
“Indulge me. Now you have my interest.”
Acker nearly groaned. He should have never said anything because now she would not leave until he told her everything.
“And pour me wine,” she ordered with a smile.
Acker did her bidding and told her the story of how he met Juliette, leaving out the part that he tried to seduce her and make her his mistress. There were some things a mother did not need to know about her son. “The coincidence struck me. Juliette and her mother left England when she was a child because her father had died. She was raised in Paris until shortly before her eighteenth birthday when her mother moved her and her sisters to Italy.”
“Sisters?” His took another sip of her wine.
“Yes. Twin sisters, approximately three years younger than Juliette.”
“I am sure Adele would have told me if she were expecting.”
“Would she?” Acker questioned.
His mother sighed. “I am not so sure now. I was not to know where she was to go for certain and then she actually did end up in Paris, with her grandmother.”
Acker stiffened. “Juliette’s mother returned to her grandmother in Paris, after she left England.”
His mother sat up and leaned forward. “Did you meet this Juliette’s mother?”
Acker shook his head. “No. Juliette wasn’t even to have contact with me, or any gentleman for that matter. We met in secret.”
“What did she look like?” Lady Acker asked before she drained her glass and rose to pour another.
“Reddish gold hair, emerald eyes.”
His mother turned and stared at him. “How tall?”
“Her head came to my nose.”
His mother pursed her lips and thought, not looking at Acker. A moment later she shook her head. “It cannot be possible. I am sure it is a coincidence.”
“A very odd coincidence.”
“Julia and Juliette are similar names, though I don’t know why Adele would change it.” His mother sank into the chair once again and sighed. “Adele did love the theatre.”
Juliette took a deep breath and knocked on the stage door of The Theatre Royal. She had to find work within. Even if she wasn’t allowed to dance, she could play small company roles in any production. Their funds were dwindling and she and her sisters couldn’t afford to lose their rented set of rooms, not with maman ill. Her cough had worsened and it kept them all awake at night. Though her mother tried to hide the evidence, Juliette had seen the dark specks of blood on the handkerchiefs. If only they had the funds for a doctor and medicine, but at the moment, they could barely afford rent and food and that was only because Genviève had found a position as a maid. It only required Genviève to be gone during the day so it didn’t pay as well as one that required maids to live within the home of their employers, but she was still earning badly needed income. If only she and Hélène could find positions, they could get mother the care she needed.
Why had her mother taken so long to come to London? When their ship docked in Dover months ago, maman had gotten them a set of rooms before they moved on. As was her habit, she had gathered what newssheets she could and spent the afternoon reading them one after the other. She grew shaky and pale. When Juliette or her sisters asked what troubled her, maman would not say. She would only mutter things like, “I hadn’t considered”, “how did I not know before now,” and “we shouldn’t have left.” Whatever it was her mother read in the newssheets on that day had changed her mind about going to London.
Then they had funds, but after traveling across England and into Scotland and back again they were practically broke. That is what led them to Covent Garden, where her mother hoped her daughters would find work. Her illness began while they traveled. Juliette hoped that once they were settled maman would regain her health but that was not the case. She just seemed to grow weaker and more tired.
However, despite maman’s illness, Juliette had been given strict orders not to contact Lord Acker. She did not need to be warned away from that gentleman again and he was the last person she wanted to see, Juliette lied to herself. If she did look for him, he would surely expect her to become his mistress.
Her mother also gave further warnings to all of them after they settled into their latest home. “If anyone mentions the name Lord Bentley or anyone with the surname of Trent, I need to know immediately.”
The sisters had nodded in assurance, though they didn’t understand why. The names meant nothing to them.
“Also,” her mother added a few days later, “If anyone should mention Adele to you, deny knowing anyone by that name.”
Juliette and her sisters questioned their mother but she refused to explain other than, “Bentley and the Trents are relations of your father and I don’t want them to know I’ve returned, under any circumstances,” she said.
“We have family in England?” Hélène asked.
Her mother’s eyes grew hard. “Some families are better kept at a distance, and even better if they don’t know you exist.”
The sisters shared a confused and concerned look.
“They will ruin our lives in ways you could never imagine.” With that she turned on her heel and exited the room.
Juliette would have pursued the questioning about the family further but her mother was deeply disturbed. If they frightened maman so much then Juliette would heed her words, as would her sisters.
It still begged the question why would her mother return to England if she wasn’t going to become reacquainted with her former friends? Juliette knew better than to request answers because maman refused to ever discuss her life in England. She and her sisters did the best they could to dismiss their mother’s concerns and set out to find work to make the new circumstances of their lives more pleasant. Unfortunately, the Season had already begun and Juliette feared that all the troupes had been set. Regardless, Juliette knocked on the doors, hoping there was a place for her.
At least her sisters had other skills. Genviève had an eye for detail and it was her flower arranging talent that landed her the position in the home in Mayfair as a maid. While waiting for the interview and eyeing the mismatched arrangements throughout the room, Genviève, set to forming more cohesive groupings. The mistress of the house, Lady Throndyke, came upon her and as Genviève began to apologize the woman hired her without requesting references. Now here sister was being consulted on decorating the once garish rooms.
Juliette and Hélène had not been so lucky, but at least Hélène could sew beautiful stitches and was spending her time visiting local modistes in hopes of finding employment. Juliette could only dance. If she couldn’t find work at a theatre, perhaps she would see if there was a school of dance in London. She had done quite well with the few students she had in Milan.
Nobody came to the door and Juliette knocked again, louder and hard enough to almost bruise her knuckles. Certainly someone was inside. A manager at least.
After several moments Juliette finally turned from the door and made her way down the alley and to the front of the theater. Hopefully one of the main doors was unlocked and she could find someone within to direct her to the person in charge. As she reached for the handle, the door was yanked open and a tall man stepped out. With a startled gasp Juliette stumbled back and looked up. Her breath hitched. A lock of sandy hair fell onto the gentleman’s forehead and he brushed it away.
He held the door open and stood back so she could enter. Juliette could not make her feet move. Viscount Acker had yet to look at her. What would his reaction be?
He lifted his head and shock registered in his features. “Juliette?”
“Viscount Acker,” she returned.
“Where did you come from?” A smile spread across his face. “What are you doing here?”
“I was wondering if auditions were being held or if the company and troupe are already set for the Season.” She would treat him as she would anyone else, without familiarity no matter how much she longed to feel his arms about her again. He had wanted her as his mistress and she must remember that. She was just as certain his heart had not ached as hers after they parted.
Acker let the door close behind him. The sun glinted off his hair and it now appeared blonder than it had in Milan. Was he spending more time out of doors?
“I don’t know,” he finally answered.
Surely he knew something about the theatres in London. Why else would he be exiting Drury Lane in the middle of the afternoon? Was he coming from visiting a mistress? “I understand that there are not many ballets being held this season.” One could always find a good ballet in Paris or Italy, but apparently the people of London seemed to prefer operas and plays.
“There are only a few.”
Disappointment settled upon her like a heavy cloak. She had hoped her information was wrong.
Lord Acker studied her for a moment, his eyebrows drawn together as if he was trying to unravel a puzzle. “Where did you go?”
“Maman decided it was time to move again. We have now settled here and I need to work.” She wasn’t about to share with him all of her travels. A year ago she may have, but she needed to keep her distance from Acker. She certainly didn’t want to give him the impression that she was willing to be his lover now.
He nodded. “King’s Theatre has plans of performing
Adolfo E Chiara
in May.”
Hope surged.
“I am not sure if each part has been cast.”
She would beg, plead and do almost anything for a chance to dance. “Thank you,” she cried.
“
The Adelphi Theatre has also been known to produce ballets each Season.”
“I will go to King’s Theatre right this moment.” Juliette turned and started to hurry away.
“Wait!”
She turned.
He seemed studied her again. “Why are you running away? I’ve searched for you.”
There was a painful squeeze to her heart. If only she could trust he wanted more from her, but she knew it was not so. Especially now that they were in London. They were of different worlds. His being a lord was more important here than it had been in Milan. She was simply a ballerina and not of his class.
“I must find work, Lord Acker.” She narrowed her eyes so he understood her meaning. “Honest, respectable work.” She turned and called over her shoulder. “Good day.”
*
Acker watched Juliette hurry toward the street. His heart still had not returned to its normal rhythm and he found himself grinning. Juliette Mirabelle was in London and she wished to dance.
Her emerald green eyes had held him transfixed for a moment. She was all that he had thought about for nearly a year and suddenly she was before him.
What brought her to London and why had he just let her get away from him?
Clearly she was still angry with him and he could not blame her. In retrospect the offer had been insulting. He didn’t know his own mind or his heart then. And, he no longer gave a bloody damn for the
tons
opinion. He wanted Juliette and he was going to get her.
He should go after her. Acker took a step toward the direction of King’s Theatre but his carriage pulled up at the curb. Blast, he had a meeting at the Home Office this afternoon. If it were any other administrative meeting, Acker would forego it and go after Juliette, but such was not the case. Napoleon may have abdicated and agreed to exile in Elba, but nobody would rest easy until he was settled there, under heavy guard, and no longer in a position to gather troops and wage war. Even though the former emperor would be confined to the island, England would take no risks and plans were underway for the Royal Navy to patrol Elba should Napoleon decide he wished to rule a large piece of land again.
With one last look at the retreating back of Juliette, her pale green skirt swishing as she hurried down the street, Acker entered his carriage. He would find her again. If he had to scour the entire city, he would find her.