Authors: Renee Reynolds
Tags: #comedy, #historical fiction, #romantic comedy, #england, #historical romance, #london, #regency, #peerage, #english romance
Lady Ashford stood and walked around the
table to place her hands on Lady Margaret's shoulders. “We shall
speak of this later, my dear, and I assure you all will be quite
well. You are amongst those who would happily call you sister so
that you may cast off the one unworthy of the name brother.” She
patted Lady Margaret lovingly. “I ask you ladies once again,
however, if you are willing to help me push the Duke and Juliet
together. Tomorrow I will have need of fresh strawberries for my
nuncheon and only those two will suffice to fetch for me. I will
need the rest of you to be scarce or occupying the attentions of
the other house guests.” Lady Ashford looked each lady in the eye
once again. “Will you pledge your aid?”
Excited chatter overlapped the acceptances
that flowed out of each lady's mouth as the Countess was able to
ascertain their agreement easily by the simultaneous nodding of
their heads. Smiles broke out around the table as each lady began
to discuss her part in possible upcoming schemes.
Lady Ashford squeezed the shoulders of Lady
Margaret Stansbury again and motioned for the younger lady to
follow her into her private room. It was there, in their isolation,
that Juliet's aunt pledged to support Lady Margaret with both
fortune and presence in Society. After many attempts were made to
dissuade Lady Ashford, Lady Margaret finally accepted with a
grateful and graceful nod.
“You will allow me to do this for you, my
dear, and it will be my great joy to do so. I would be your
benefactress and chaperone. Should it please you, I would have you
stay with me in Town.” Lady Ashford grabbed Lady Margaret's hands
in support. “I was not blessed with children and have no need to be
buried one day with my monies. I fear your brother will not be of
any help to you in this, so leave him to me. Much to my late
husband's regret, he could not touch the inheritance left me by my
own father. It has always brought me joy to use the funds as I
please, especially when it displeased the late Earl. So I must
insist you indulge me this matter, if for no other reason than that
will give my not-so-dearly-departed husband another cause to turn
wretched in his grave, may he rot in dyspeptic discomfort,” the
Countess concluded with a grin.
Juliet did what she always did when her
emotions were in turmoil and she could not settle herself: she
forgot her problems and her sorrows at the pianoforte. The house
was finally quiet after a day beginning with waking in the Duke's
chambers that progressed to a hastily announced betrothal. This
seeming good news elicited felicitations from most guests, but also
glares and whispered comments from some of the more dour matrons,
Viscount Melville, and the thwarted Lady Phillipa. Added to this,
an edict rained down from her aunt requiring Juliet's help picking
strawberries the next morning; of course no one else was found
qualified to help in this endeavor save the Duke. Juliet grimaced
at the idea as she arranged her skirts on the playing bench. The
music room was far enough removed from the guest chambers that she
did not fear disturbing anyone. With all that had happened in the
past twenty-four hours, however, she could honestly say she had no
care if others in the house found the comfort of sleep or not. She
shut all the open room doors and muffled the instrument just the
same, as much to keep the music in for her emotional release alone
as to prevent waking any guests.
How could she fix a problem without apparent
solution? How could she apologize when there existed no words
strong enough to convey the depth of sorrow felt for her actions
and the resultant consequences? She lightly ran her hands over the
ivory keys, stroking their cool and comforting smoothness, and
gently began softly to play a melancholic melody, Beethoven's piano
sonata 14, Q
uasi una Fantasia
. She closed her eyes and let
the notes swirl around her, the minor chords providing a fitting
musical blanket that wrapped around her as if a tangible covering
of despondency.
As she progressed into the second movement,
she suddenly felt overwhelmed by the somber timbre of the music and
the despair of her situation. Her fingers stilled and she felt her
shoulders shake as quiet sobs finally broke over the dam she had
built to contain her emotions over the course of the day. She felt
the hot tears spill over her lashes as she hung her head, her hands
braced at her sides on the bench. She let the tears fall freely to
her lap, heedless of the damage she might do to the silk gown she
still wore from supper. She prayed for a catharsis she knew would
likely evade her.
"How has it come to this?" she whispered to
the dark corners of the room, wiping her tears away with shaky
hands. “What am I to do?”
"You are to marry me," answered the Duke
quietly, slowly making his way across the room, emerging from the
shadows near the door to the hall. His chest hurt to see Juliet
crying with such anguish, and he worried she would never reconcile
herself to their coming marriage. Another sob tore from her as he
came to stand beside her at the instrument.
“Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry,” she wailed.
He could stand her distress no longer and he hauled her off the
bench and into his arms. She protested slightly but he would not
loosen his hold and she eventually sank into his chest. He
tightened his arms about her even more and let his hand rub up and
down her spine in comfort. How right she felt in his arms, their
forms a perfect fit for each other.
“Juliet, we have discussed this. While all
may not have occurred in the most conventional manner, I am far
from being discontent. I assure you, it will be no hardship to
marry you, and I hope you will one day be able to say the same of
me.” He hugged her tighter to his chest before continuing with an
attempt at levity. “And I thought we agreed you would forswear the
use of my title as we are now betrothed.”
Her sobs slowed and she turned her face to
the side though still rested her cheek on his chest. The steady
beat of his heart began to calm her frayed nerves. “I so regret
that the choice was taken from you. It should not have been so!
Marriage is a lifelong commitment and you should have been allowed
to choose your mate rather than have one foisted on you.” She
hiccuped and felt herself begin to tremble anew. She struggled to
stem the tears that again begged to fall.
Jonas gently pulled her shoulders back so he
could look down into her face. “But I did choose you.” He moved his
thumbs across her cheeks, erasing the tracks of her tears. “I could
likely smother this situation with some threats and pressure,
although some harm would undoubtedly come to both our reputations.
I am a Duke, Juliet, and people would eventually forget to tie my
name to a scandal in the hopes of currying my favor. With your
looks, dowry, and family connections, there would be plenty of
suitors that would pursue you after a time as well, although most
for nefarious reasons. We could emerge, possibly as early as the
Little Season, with the undeniable taint of scandal, but we could
survive.”
She gazed up at him questioningly, her
lustrous eyes huge against her pale face, their color almost
transmuted to a pale, pearled gray. “If that is so, then why are we
marrying?” she asked tremulously, a return to crying not far from
reality.
He moved his hands from her shoulders to cup
her face. “Because I
choose
you.” He paused to let his words
sink in. “I have always known you to be lively and intelligent,
possibly from our first meeting as children. Since your come-out
two years ago, I have watched you as you danced and held court at
many balls and musicales, and was impressed by your manners and
comportment. We have known each other forever, but something has
changed, even progressed, in our relationship. This past week I
feel I have come to know you much better. I enjoy our
conversations, disagreements, and debates. I like to hear your
laugh. I marvel at how your presence transforms a room, and your
wit enlivens even the most dreary of conversations. Juliet, I
want
to marry you.”
She simply stared into his
eyes, which had turned from their normal icy blue into a
dark-rimmed stormy cobalt in the subdued light of the room. He had
not spoken of love but his statements had echoed those she had
already thought of him. She was under no illusion, however, as to
their survival of the scandal should they not marry. As a gentleman
and a Duke he would come forth with much less taint, but there
would be those amongst the
ton
who
would never let the matter fade. She likewise knew she would
attract only the basest of suitors: the fortune hunters, the
dissolute wastrels, the jaded rakes. She took a deep, shuddering
breath but could not make any words coalesce into a
reply.
“Juliet, let me show you how well we get
along. Let me show you that our marriage could be much more than a
forced union. Let me prove to you that marrying me would not be the
worst thing to happen to you,” he pleaded, his thumbs tracing a
tender path on her cheeks. “Let us honor our earlier accord and
take this next week to court. We will spend our time learning even
more about each other. This week shall be for us, to see if I am
proved correct and we do suit.”
She blinked, breaking her spellbound stare
with his enigmatic eyes. She inhaled a deep, calming breath before
she spoke. “I am so afraid that you will come to resent me and our
marriage, to resent the way it began. I only wish to start out
without the spectre of force and compromise and duty overshadowing
us.”
Jonas dropped his touch and turned slightly
away, running his fingers through his hair, leaving several strands
sticking up at odd angles. Juliet thought his agitated gesture
endearing and she started slightly at the realization that she was
learning to read his moods and motions already. He rubbed his eyes
before turning around to speak again. “I cannot stress enough that
I do not feel forced to marry you. It was a surprise that it
happened so quickly and caused our parents such chagrin, but
perhaps it will reassure you to know I had begun to think on you as
a possible marriage partner. For the reasons I outlined before, and
for so many more, I have come to admire you. The only obstacle I
had seen to my pursuit was your standing as the sister of two of my
closest friends.” He paused to give a sardonic laugh. “I will
further confess that I was beginning to consider a sound beating
from your brothers as worth the price of courting you, Juliet.”
She struggled to process
this new information in the midst of her previous torment over
thinking him disappointed and ill-used. She began to feel tentacles
of hope stealing over her as she realized he did hold her in some
measure of true affection and esteem.
Surely that can
grow into love
, she thought.
I am
halfway there myself, if not yet already, if I be
honest
. She reached out and grabbed one of
his large hands with her slender fingers.
“
If it is time for
confession I must make some of my own. I have come to relish
spending time with you, whether we are conversing or even competing
together. I have caught myself looking for you when I enter a room
and watching for your return when we separate after supper. I find
myself wondering after your opinion on a certain subject, or
thinking how you might react to a situation that has brought me
mirth. I have been confused because you have always been Miranda's
brother to me, always seeming to relegate me to the status of a
little child, the best friend of your sister only. I had presumed
you indifferent.” She looked down at his hand and drug her fingers
across his knuckles without thought. “Your words give me great
comfort and hope, Jonas. Hope for our future.”
He took her in his arms
with a speed she did not know he possessed, one arm wrapping around
her waist while the other came up to cup her face. “You
finally
said my name!” he announced
triumphantly before leaning in to brush his lips to her cheek. “Say
it again. Please.”
Juliet blew out a tiny breath with a half
laugh as she looked at his earnest expression and his stormy
sea-blue eyes. “Jonas,” she breathed, her voice lower than its
usual tone.
He smiled, both dimples appearing deep in
his cheeks. “I think I have waited my whole life to hear my name
spoken that way.” He brought both hands up to her face and tilted
her head slightly as his lips came down to meet hers. His mouth was
hot, his lips as soft as velvet as they moved gently across hers.
Juliet was awash in sensation as she felt warmth travel through her
whole body, radiating out from every point where they touched. She
stepped closer to him and placed her hands on his chest, reveling
in the heat that she felt even through the many layers of his
clothing.
Jonas broke their kiss and rested his
forehead on hers as he took in several breaths. “My first kiss,”
Juliet mused aloud as she brushed her fingers against her
still-warm lips.
Jonas pulled back slightly to look her in
the eye. “Your first kiss? How have you managed to dodge your
previous suitors and lovesick swains?” he teased.
Juliet moved her hands to straighten and
smooth the lapels of his coat. “I did exactly that – dodged them,”
she said with a small laugh. “Most I had no desire to share any
sort of intimacy with; a few sparked my curiosity but not enough
that I wanted to encourage them falsely. After a time, it seemed
too personal an act to waste on just any gentleman.” She blushed a
little at her last statement and its implication, but she added no
further explanation.