Authors: Renee Reynolds
Tags: #comedy, #historical fiction, #romantic comedy, #england, #historical romance, #london, #regency, #peerage, #english romance
Juliet suddenly knew why the Earl was a
successful rogue; he was rather a skilled flirt and flatterer. She
was stunned into silence and flitted her eyes about nervously to
avoid looking into his. She noticed they had drawn the attention of
only one couple, the Duke and her aunt. The former scowled
ferociously while the latter smiled with devilish delight. Juliet
cursed fluently but silently and felt her face heat with a blush as
she returned her gaze to Dartmouth. She opened her mouth to speak
but he stopped her with a finger to her lips.
“I am not in love with you, but I do admire
you very much and felt we would rub along quite well together,” he
continued, stopping to flash a wide smile that made his face even
more handsome. He removed his finger from her lips and grabbed both
her hands with his. “There are other suitable ladies upon whom I
can prevail, so I am sure to make a match eventually. I felt the
need to tell you not to close yourself off from matrimony, however.
You have much to recommend you, and not just a pretty face or even
prettier dowry.” He paused and the rogue returned in full force.
“Although I will confess that those obvious enticements did make it
hard for me to pass you by.”
Juliet blinked in silence then burst into
laughter, wrapping her arms around her waist as she shook from its
effects. “You must be the most self-assured gentleman I have ever
had the pleasure to know, my lord. You oscillate between pretty
truths and flummery with such skill I am in awe to observe.” She
stopped to take a breath and wipe a tear from the corner of one
eye. “I have no doubt your pretty words and even prettier teeth
will indeed find you a most suitable wife,” she added with a smirk,
twisting his own final comment to give him a verbal pinch.
“Shall we cry 'friend' and enjoy our day,
then, my lady? It seems we understand each other well.”
“So we shall, my lord.” She stuck out her
hand jauntily for a manly shake but he instead bowed low and
grasped her hand, feathering a delicate kiss on the tops of her
knuckles. They both laughed at this and began to pick strawberries
in earnest for some several minutes before Juliet was suddenly
struck immobile by an idea she must voice.
“My lord, as you are not interested in my
dearest friend, for reasons we both agree, what say I pique your
interest with a worthy candidate? I know you have been introduced
to Miss Harriet Shaw, but I am not sure you are aware of how
perfectly she fits your requirements. You know already that she is
very comely but that most consider her of the bluestocking
varietal. She is indeed intelligent but also very unflappable in
nature and has experience with children, having three younger
siblings. For the cream on the top, may I also make you aware that
her family owns a sizable amount of Lancashire?” drawled Juliet.
The Earl was suitably intrigued and they proceeded down the row
together, heads bent close as Juliet imparted more confidences.
Both remained oblivious to the continued attention of the irritated
Duke of Dorset and the delighted Countess of Ashford.
The Duchess of Dorset had quite cunningly
arranged the blankets for seating in groups of no more than four in
effort to promote more intimate discussions while still maintaining
propriety to the letter. It was thus that Juliet was able to easily
contrive the grouping of Miranda and Viscount Torrington, who
seemed to be getting along swimmingly, and the newly reintroduced
Earl of Dartmouth and one Miss Harriet Shaw. Juliet smiled
secretly, silently congratulating herself as a budding matchmaker
as she gathered her food choices from the bountiful spread under
the canopy. Upon accepting a glass of cool lemonade from a server,
she glanced around for seating arrangements of her own and was
somewhat dismayed to see few agreeable options. She sensed a
presence coming from behind and turned to see the Duke.
“Do you have a seat already selected, Lady
Juliet, or may I ask for the favor of your company?”
“You may, as I have no prior engagement and
would enjoy lunching with you, Your Grace.”
She saw his eyes light up with some unknown
glint and relinquished her plate to him as he offered her his other
arm. Juliet placed her hand lightly on his forearm and was struck
again by the tingle that raced up her skin from merely touching
him. She vowed to think on her strange reaction later, determined
now to savor the beautiful weather, enticing food, and new role as
marriage facilitator. They wended their way through the trees to a
blanket located at the edge of the seating area, somewhat removed
from the nearness of the other guests but still in view of all
eyes. He set her plate near his own and helped lower her to the
ground. He then settled himself near enough that she could feel his
heat and smell the scent she had come to identify as his, yet they
shared no physical contact.
“I see this adventure of Mama's has not
diminished your appetite, Lady Juliet,” he began as she arranged
her skirts modestly.
Juliet could not stop the laugh from
bursting out at his comment. “Is that your delicate way of
remarking on the great quantity of food occupying my plate, Your
Grace?” she teased in amusement, pointedly glancing down at her
delicacy-laden platter. She was surprised to see both of his cheeks
flush at her question.
“Good Lord, no,” he stammered, “I mean,
please forgive my indecorous speech and unconscionably rude
comment. I only meant to observe that the heat and effort expended
today seemed in no way to cause you any difficulty.” He blinked and
seemed flummoxed. “That is to say, you seem to have enjoyed your
morning.” He ended his painful speech with a muttered oath that
Juliet had to strain to hear, but made her smile nonetheless.
“I must apologize, Your Grace. I only teased
the wording of your statement, not your obviously kind sentiments
behind it. For some reason, I find myself saying things quite
before I think them through when I am in your company. It is most
vexing to be so ridiculous,” she added with a self-deprecating
grimace.
He blinked at her several times and Juliet
felt she must have made him terribly ill at ease. She inwardly
cursed her loose tongue and vowed to be more judicious and decorous
in his presence. The silence began to feel unbearable when he
ventured to speak again.
“I feel the same way, my lady. You are the
most intelligent, most talented person I have ever known, and I
sometimes feel intimidated just by your presence. I find it funny,
in a pitiable way, mind you, that I have been able to find my way
verbally sparring from my father's seat in the House of Lords, yet
my little sister's friend can often leave me struck dumb.”
Juliet felt discomposed but could not decide
if it was from his praise over her person, his admission of
intimidation, or the distaste she felt at still being seen as his
sister's 'friend.' She swallowed the dry lump in her mouth that had
once been a very tasty bite of ham pasty before sipping her
lemonade and sorting her thoughts. She opted for honesty over
evasiveness.
“I am surprised to hear your words as
I
am the one to feel intimidated by
you
, Your Grace.
I have attributed it to the fact that you have always been
Miranda's brother and friend to my own lamentable siblings,” she
grinned as she remembered her brothers. “Our conversations of late
have astonished me in that we share similar tastes and opinions,
and I have enjoyed meeting your sense of humor.”
He stretched his legs out to the side and
leaned towards her a little more. “But you seem so edgy when we
converse that I have thought I made you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, no, not uncomfortable,” she
interrupted, “just unsure. We have never really spoken more than
two sentences together other than polite speeches on the weather or
size of a party when sharing a dance. I had been uncertain if my
words should be merely polite but inconsequential or if I should
engage in actual discourse. I daresay I have been more comfortable
around you these past few days than in the past ten years. I
labored under the misapprehension you were a much colder, more
standoffish gentleman, but I find your company and conversation
very agreeable.”
A feeling of relief and pleasure wafted over
Jonas as he heard her words and watched her expression. He could
see the veracity of her statements in her eyes and found himself
falling more and more under her spell. The most frustrating aspect
was that she was not attempting to lure him in, although he was
feeling very well and securely captured. It was time to show more
cards, he decided.
“I am pleased to find us in accord, Lady
Juliet, for I too relish our conversations and company. I hope we
can both be less intimidated by the other and discover more
commonalities, other ways to feel in each other's company.” Her
eyes widened slightly at his last comment and he could see her
trying to determine the intended meaning of his words. “In fact, as
we are determining our new roles, I find you should address me
informally, to befit our new closeness. Surely we are acquainted
enough now to do so.”
“Oh, but I couldn't, Your Grace. It would
not be seemly,” she choked.
“But we have known each other for so long a
time and our families are close. My sister even addresses your
brothers by their given names. Surely you could return the
compliment, or call me Dorset if it eases your senses.”
Juliet flushed but held firm, somehow
feeling this was a step more significant than merely using a new
name. “Rest assured, Miranda means no compliment to my brothers, as
I mentioned when you gave me a choice in your boon after our race
on the beach. Miranda calls my brothers by a variety of names, some
quite unrefined, because they have treated her as their own sister.
She has spent much time in company with my family and has suffered
as much ridicule and torment at their hands as I. You, however,
have always been respectful and gracious. My respect for you gives
rise to my more formal address.”
Jonas wanted to pursue the point but decided
to move slowly. Deliberate, but slowly. “I hope you do not mistake
my good behavior to have been a lack of regard. Your brothers have
always been more outgoing and of easier temperament than myself,
but I consider you an important member in my life as well.”
Juliet's mind scrambled to decipher the
peculiarity of his statements, but found she could not fathom their
hidden meanings while so distracted by his company. “Perhaps
someday it will seem less improper to be more informal, but for
now, without any disrespect for your request, I shall continue to
use your title.” She paused to consider whether she should attempt
to lighten the situation before deciding she must. “Unless you feel
the need put a mud-covered frog in my hair or lock me in the
cellar, as my brothers did to poor Miranda. Then I should likely
feel comfortable to call you any one of the coarse and informal
names she bestowed on them,” she added cheekily.
He smiled and acquiesced. “Then by your
leave, when you deem it seemly, please know I would consider it an
honor and gift for you to use my name.” He picked up a tiny
cucumber sandwich and popped it into his mouth, causing Juliet to
smile her agreement and resume her luncheon. They continued in
companionable silence, each keeping counsel in their own minds;
hers trying to decode the changes in their relationship, his
fomenting plans to keep himself in her company with more
regularity.
Their sociable silence was short-lived,
however, interrupted by the fawning Viscount Melville and his
obviously embarrassed sister, Lady Margaret. The Viscount stopped
at the edge of the blanket to make his insincere bows.
“Your Grace. Lady Juliet. May we beg the
honor of sharing your company for this picnic?” Melville nudged his
sister forward toward the Duke as he stepped over to take his place
closer to Juliet.
“You can beg for whatever you like,” the
Duke muttered under his breath as he stood to offer assistance to
Melville's sister. “Lady Margaret, allow me to help you with your
burden,” he offered as he took her plate to set it on the ground.
He cast a disparaging look at her neglectful brother and was
pleased to see Juliet's scowl of disapproval as well. She glanced
up at Jonas and rolled her eyes before shifting slightly to arrange
her skirts away from her new dining companion.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” murmured Lady
Margaret as she quickly sat, her eyes downcast the entire time.
Discomfort radiated off her person and Juliet was moved to sympathy
for the quiet girl with the servile brother. She smiled at the
thought of their shared complaint of annoying siblings, although
Juliet knew she was blessed that hers were lovingly irritating.
“Lady Margaret, you look very comely today.
Your yellow gown makes you seem a natural addition to our beautiful
landscape.” Juliet offered her an engaging smile in an attempt to
put the lady at ease. Lady Margaret flushed, but smiled shyly at
the compliment. Juliet noted that she was quite pretty when her
face was not overcome with worry or shame of her brother.
“Thank you, Lady Juliet. I was just thinking
the same of your dress,” she returned quietly, raising her eyes
briefly to hold Juliet's gaze.
“I agree, Margaret. Lady Juliet's dress is
very becoming.” The Viscount turned and let his gaze sweep
indolently over Juliet. “Very becoming indeed.”
Juliet bared her teeth in a pretense of a
smile that failed to reach her eyes. She took a deep breath to slow
her irritation. “Now that we have complimented each other I fear
our next topic must be the weather. As it is my turn, I must needs
ask Lady Margaret how she enjoys the sun thus far.”