TemptingJuliana (18 page)

“I
do
want him. I cannot marry Lord Malmsey! And our wedding is only two weeks away! I must tell Lord Stafford about my engagement.”

“You cannot. He is too honorable to cooperate with any plan to force your father’s hand.”

“Then how on earth am I to get him to compromise me in time?”

“You need to let him kiss you, and I don’t mean as part of a plot. A few kisses will lead to more, and eventually you’ll be discovered. Society is a nosy lot, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“That sounds like a plot,” Amanda pointed out.

“It isn’t.” All right, maybe it was. But it wasn’t the
same sort of plot as the one they’d tried tonight. Corinna had said that a kiss made all the difference. Once James kissed Amanda, she’d fall in love with him, and they’d both want more kisses, and the rest would happen naturally.

Surely there was no reason to feel guilty about that.

“Lady Amanda!” Lady Billingsgate exclaimed, rushing in. “Are you unwell? Before Lord Stafford left, he told me you’d taken ill.”

So James had left. Juliana wouldn’t have to look at him again and feel a pang of guilt. But as Amanda explained to Lady Billingsgate that she was quite recovered, thank you, Juliana wondered why knowing she didn’t have to face him failed to bring her a measure of relief.

RICHMOND MAIDS OF HONOUR

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, which should have made Juliana feel cheerful, but instead she still felt guilty. It being Sunday, she attended St. George’s Hanover Square Church, where the sermon was all about truth, which made her feel even more guilty. So guilty that afterward she baked some Richmond Maids of Honour and asked Griffin to take her to Stafford House.

“Why?” he asked.

A perfectly reasonable question, but one she didn’t want to answer. She was entirely too ashamed of her
actions to admit them to her brother. “I just want to ask Lord Stafford if he’d like me to volunteer next week at the Institute.” That wasn’t quite a lie, since she’d been wondering when he might need her again. “I forgot to ask him last night.” With all that had gone on at the ball, she really
had
forgotten.

“You could send him a note,” Griffin suggested.

“Just take me, will you?”

“Very well.” Griffin shook his head in that mystified, brotherly way of his. “I cannot imagine why a note won’t do, but I’ll take you.”

“Thank you,” she said.

When he was sitting across from her in the carriage, he stretched out his legs and steepled his fingers. “How is your romance with Castleton proceeding?”

She fiddled with the platter on her lap. “He says he’s falling in love with me, but he has yet to kiss me.”

“He’s a gentleman,” Griffin said, looking not at all unpleased with that news. “He shouldn’t kiss you before you are wed. Or engaged at the very least.”

Trust a brother to think that. She considered telling him Corinna believed a woman should kiss some frogs so she’ll know when she’s met her prince, but thought better of it. For one thing, getting Corinna in trouble served no point, and for another, she was beginning to believe her sister was right. If James and Amanda had already kissed, perhaps the plot would have proved successful.

Not that she wished it had, mind you. She felt guilty enough as it was.

“The duke believes a couple should wait to kiss, too,” she said instead. “You must be the only two such men in all of London.”

“I’m certain he will ask for your hand soon.” Griffin leaned closer and patted her knee. “I’ll have a talk with him. In my stables.”

“Pardon?” What did his stables have to do with anything?

“Never mind. We’ve arrived.” The carriage pulled to a stop in St. James’s Place, and Griffin started to climb out.

“Wait here,” she said.

“Why?”

“Just wait, will you? I cannot stay long—I have ladies coming to sew at two o’clock.” All of her projects were beginning to make her feel a bit frazzled. “It won’t take me but a minute to ask one simple question.”

“Very well,” he said, again shaking his head in that mystified, brotherly way of his. He plopped back onto the seat.

She banged the knocker, and the door was opened by the same crimson-liveried footman who had welcomed her last week. Through the window in the back of the entrance hall, Lady Stafford waved from the courtyard garden. She hurried inside. “How are you, my dear? I didn’t expect to see you until your sewing party this afternoon. What do you have there?”

Juliana handed her the platter. “Some Richmond Maids of Honour for Lord Stafford. And for you, too, of course.”

“They smell divine.”

“I’ve come to ask Lord Stafford a quick question. Is he at home?”

“He’s upstairs in his study, spending this beautiful day going over the Institute’s books.” Shaking her head in a fond, motherly way, she started toward the staircase. “Follow me, if you will.”

It was quite the most elegant staircase Juliana had ever seen. The metal balustrade was painted to look like festooned drapery. Above her head, a segmented barrel ceiling gave the impression of a classical temple interior with garlands swagged between Roman pilasters.

She assumed Lady Stafford was leading her toward the study, but instead she walked her through an impressive library and into a room so splendid it stole Juliana’s breath. If she had been a fortune-hunting sort of woman, the very sight of it would have made her want to marry James. It put the gorgeous Palm Room below it to shame.

She’d never seen so much gilt in her life. It dazzled the eye. Fancy gilt columns supported a gilt ceiling. Between all the gleaming gilt, the walls were covered with painted scenes.

“We call this the Painted Room,” Lady Stafford said. “Marriage is the theme.”

Juliana nearly swooned over the frieze painted on the chimneypiece.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lady Stafford set the platter of cheesecakes on a gilt-legged marble-topped table. “It’s a copy of the celebrated
Aldobrandini Wedding
, a Roman fresco excavated in the early seventeenth century and exhibited in the Vatican.”

“It’s exquisite,” Juliana breathed. The theme of marriage continued all around the room, with some of the scenes executed directly onto the plaster and others painted on gilt-framed canvas panels. The whole mood was festive and carefree.

Above a pier glass, a circular panel displayed a painting of another Roman wedding. Other panels depicted music, drinking, and dancing. There were paintings of Cupid and Venus. Nymphs danced on the ceiling, lovers courted on the walls, and a frieze of rose wreaths and garlands of flowers went all around the cornice.

“Isn’t marriage wonderful?” Lady Stafford said. “Please have a seat. I’ll send in my son.”

Juliana perched herself on one of four green silk sofas with gilt arms carved to look like winged lions. She folded her hands in her lap. She crossed her feet and uncrossed them. She rose and peeked at her sweets.

The winged lion sofas had six matching chairs, and she was heading for one of them when James walked in.

“Here,” she said, grabbing the platter. “I brought these cheesecakes for you.”

He took them, looking as mystified as Griffin. But not at all brotherly. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that not only was he without a coat or cravat and his shirt was unbuttoned again, but he’d rolled up his cuffs, too. A good six inches of his forearms were bare—muscled forearms, lightly sprinkled with dark hair.

“What are you doing here, Juliana?”

She jerked her gaze up to his face. There was no sense putting it off. “I came to apologize. Won’t you have one of the cheesecakes? The recipe is said to have been in my family since Queen Elizabeth’s time.”

He set down the platter. “Apologize for what?”

He wasn’t going to eat any Richmond Maids of Honour. She would have to hope he’d forgive her without
their magic. “For plotting with Lady Amanda to trick you into compromising her,” she confessed in a rush. “In the library last night. I was hoping you would kiss her, and then I’d bring Lady Billingsgate to witness Lady Amanda’s disgrace, so her father would be forced to assent to your marriage.” She drew a shaky breath. “Can you forgive me?”

“That’s terrible.” She’d known he would disapprove, but she hadn’t expected he’d look quite so dour. His fists were clenched. “Whyever would you do that? I told you, I can see no reason Lord Wolverston would reject my suit should I decide to ask for his daughter’s hand.”

“She doesn’t believe he’d agree. He is not a very nice man.”

“Surely he isn’t stupid.” He unclenched his fists, but only to cross his half-bare arms. “I am excellent husband material.”

He had a high opinion of himself, but it wasn’t unjustified. There was no doubt he would make an excellent husband for Amanda. “I’m sorry I went behind your back, but why are you so upset? However terrible the means, the outcome would have been to your benefit. You’d have found yourself married to the woman you love. Unless—”

An awful thought suddenly occurred to her.

She’d assumed that since he was still courting Amanda, he’d fallen in love with her. But what if he hadn’t? What if her scheming had resulted in James being forced to marry a woman he didn’t love?

“Do you not love Lady Amanda yet?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

“No,” he said, looking quite sure. Not to mention horrified.

It was the wrong answer, so why did she feel relieved? “Maybe you’re in love with her, but you don’t know it,” she suggested. “Maybe you don’t know what love feels like.” It was a reasonable question, certainly. She’d asked it of herself several times over the last few weeks.

But now he looked annoyed. “I know what love feels like, Juliana.”

That surprising news made her a little uneasy. “You’ve been in love before?”

“Yes. With my wife.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d punched her in the stomach. In fact, it felt like he
had
punched her in the stomach. “You have a wife?”

“I
had
a wife,” he corrected. “Her name was Anne. She died in childbirth, along with our baby. Two years ago.”

“Dear heavens. I didn’t know.” The sharp pain in Juliana’s middle shifted to an ache in her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

She watched him walk to a chair and lower himself to it wearily. He no longer looked angry or annoyed; he just looked sad. “I forgive you,” he said dully. “What you did was still terrible, but I know your heart was in the right place.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“As long as you promise not to try it ever again.”

“I won’t. I promise. And a Chase promise is never broken. That’s been our family motto for centuries.” She sat in the chair beside him, grasping the two lion heads at the ends of its arms as though they could lend her their strength. She was glad to have his forgiveness, but his pain ripped her up inside. He’d loved a wife, and she’d carried their baby, and they’d both died. “I’m so sorry you lost your family.”

“You’ve lost family, too,” he said.

“But not a child. It must be hardest to lose a child.”

He nodded. “We’re supposed to die
before
our children.”

“A child is part of you, part of your future.”

“It’s only recently I’ve realized that,” he said with a sigh. “Only recently I’ve realized I want to have another.”

Of course he wanted another baby. She wanted a baby, too. And so, she was sure, did Amanda. But he needed more time to fall in love with her.

Juliana knew grief, knew how much it hurt, knew it took a long while to resume living life fully. He’d lost a wife. It would take him time to recover, to allow himself to love another.

She hadn’t realized.

He needed more time. He’d said many wonderful
things about Amanda, and he was still courting her, after all, so eventually he’d fall in love with her. But he needed more time.

A pity he had only two weeks.

Thirteen days, actually. Twelve days if he didn’t see Amanda again until tomorrow. She couldn’t let him wait any longer than that.

“You know,” she said carefully, “you’ll have to remarry to have a child.”

“Not technically,” he said with a hint of his normal good humor.

“James…”

“Yes, I shall have to remarry to have a child. My dear mother, bless her heart, reminds me of that fact on a daily basis.” He paused and looked away, his voice going lower, quieter. “Even though I’ll never fall in love again, someday I’ll have to remarry.”

How could he say such a thing? “You cannot marry without falling in love.”

“People do it all the time,” he said, looking back to her. “There are many reasons people marry. Wealth, ambition, position, security, duty, honor. And to have a child. While I’d never marry an enemy, I can certainly marry a friend. One can kiss a woman and make a child without falling in love.”

Though his words made her blush, she persisted. “How can you possibly know you’ll never fall in love again?”

“I just do,” he said flatly. “Falling in love would mean betraying Anne, and that isn’t going to happen.”

Wealth, ambition, position, security, duty, honor…to have a child. Those were sad reasons to wed, Juliana thought—and old reasons as well. Her parents had married for such reasons. Today, in these modern times, young people preferred romantic love matches.

Except…maybe Amanda.

Lord Stafford and I suit well
, she remembered Amanda saying.
We’re compatible. Maybe my father was right—maybe there are more important considerations than love. I cannot marry Lord Malmsey!

At the time, she’d worried that Amanda had decided to marry James for all the wrong reasons. But maybe
the two were even better matched than she’d thought. Marriage would give them both what they wanted. Children for James, and a young, compatible man for Amanda.

“Juliana?” James said. “What are you thinking?”

Still sad for him, she forced a smile. “I’m thinking that the two of us went out often during your lessons, but since then you’ve had no outings with Lady Amanda.”

“You want me to take Lady Amanda riding in Hyde Park? Or to the Egyptian Hall?”

“Not exactly.” If he hoped to become friends with Amanda—if he hoped to kiss and eventually marry her—he needed to take her someplace much more romantic. “I was thinking Vauxhall Gardens would be perfect.”

She’d never been to Vauxhall Gardens, but judging from what she’d heard, it seemed there was nowhere more suitable for lovers, most especially at night. The gardens were described as a paradise of lush paths with many private corners, their twelve acres lit by romantic lanterns—save for a few of the walkways that were deliberately left dark.

“Vauxhall Gardens?” James repeated skeptically. From what he’d heard, the gardens mainly served as a spot for illicit trysts. “I’ve never been to Vauxhall Gardens.”

“Haven’t you?” Juliana said. “It’s a lovely place.”