The Perfect Mistress (11 page)

“Veronica.” Julia shook her head. “I have no interest in your newfound brother.”

“Excellent, as he says he has no interest in you either. I have already told him the two of you would not suit.”

“Oh? And how did that topic arise?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Veronica shrugged. “One thing led to another and I found myself telling him that while you might well be perfect for him, he would not suit you at all. He is entirely too stuffy, too proper, and too unyielding.”

“So I have noticed.” Julia paused. “Just as a matter of curiosity, mind you, nothing more than that, why do you think I would be perfect for him?”

“Darling Julia, you are the cleverest woman I know, aside from myself, that is. Harrison detests intelligence in a woman.” She smiled in a wicked manner. “You would drive him quite mad because you would never bend entirely to his will.”

“I bent to William’s will.” She huffed. “I was a most proper and obedient wife.”

“Perhaps, but William, from what you have said, was a rational man used to compromise. Besides, even if you do not see it, it’s apparent to me, you are not the same women who lost her husband three years ago. That Julia would never consider selling scandalous memoirs.” Veronica drew her brows together. “Do you realize how different you are?”

Julia cast her a reluctant smile. “Yes, I believe I do. I’m not sure that’s altogether good.”

“It’s nothing short of wonderful.” Veronica took her arm again and they started off. “As for Harrison, while it would be a great deal of fun to watch you lead him on a merry chase, I think you can do far better. And Harrison has a very strict list of what he wants in a wife.”

Julia snorted back a laugh. “He has a list?”

“You sound surprised.” Veronica chuckled. “Of all the men I know, Harrison is the one most likely to select a bride based on a strict list of the attributes he requires in a wife.”

They paused before an older couple chatting with two gentlemen and a young, lovely blond woman. Veronica introduced Miss Celeste Waverly and her parents, a Mr. Roberts and a Lord Minden.

When they continued, Veronica leaned closer and spoke into her ear. “Her father is the youngest son of the Earl of Guilesford. She meets all of Harrison’s requirements. The family fortune is immense. Miss Waverly has been trained since birth to be the perfect bride for someone exactly like Harrison. Her breeding is impeccable, her manners flawless, her education appropriate.”

“And she is not unattractive,” Julia murmured, wondering why she found the idea of the pretty young blonde with Lord Mountdale so disconcerting.

“She is a pale imitation. There is no substance to her, no spark. She is an empty vessel waiting to be whatever the man she weds wishes her to be.” Veronica sniffed in disdain. “She is exactly what Harrison says he wants. I have already introduced them.” She smiled. “We shall see.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing untoward, I assure you. I am simply being sisterly. My
brother
has expressed his desire for a certain type of woman and I am presenting him with one. God help him.” She glanced around the parlor. “We shall go into dinner as soon as the other guests arrive. I see Portia is not here yet.” She sighed. “We must do something about her alarming tendency to disregard the very idea of punctuality.”

“It seems to me, you are rarely anywhere at the appointed time.”

“I am an entirely different matter.”

Lord Mountdale noticed their approach and met Julia’s gaze, a warm smile lighting up his face. She nearly stumbled.

“Why is he looking at me like that?” The oddest sense of panic fluttered in her stomach.

“It’s called a smile. He doesn’t use it often, which is a very great pity,” Veronica added. “Now, do allow him to be charming. He intends to ignore his innate reserve and be at his most agreeable as evidenced by the smile.”

“It’s rather frightening, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Veronica murmured, and they stopped in front of Lord Mountdale and the other gentleman. “Harrison, you remember my dear friend, Julia, Lady Winterset.”

“Indeed I do.” His dark gaze met hers and his smile lingered in his eyes. A genuine smile. She had caught a fleeting glimpse of it during their first encounter but tonight there was something decidedly different. As if he had changed or she had. Nonsense, it was nothing more than Veronica’s talk about how they would never suit. Still, the oddest sensation fluttered in her stomach.

“And Julia”—Veronica nodded at the other gentle-man—“I should like you to meet Mr. Ellsworth. Mr. Ellsworth, may I present Lady Winterset. Mr. Ellsworth is a celebrated author, you know.”

“John Eddington Ellsworth at your service, my lady.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze locked on hers. A distinct glimmer of admiration shone in light brown eyes that nearly matched the color of his hair.

“Mr. Ellsworth.” Julia tried not to stare but it was impossible. John Eddington Ellsworth was one of the best known and most popular authors in the country. Nearly as popular as Mr. Dickens although, of course, Mr. Ellsworth was alive. “I have read your work.”

A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “If you didn’t like it, please be so good as not to tell me. I would be devastated if one of the loveliest women it has ever been my pleasure to meet does not like my work.”

“
The
loveliest,” Lord Mountdale said quickly.

Julia slanted him a quick glance. He was indeed trying to be charming. Perhaps a bit too hard. She turned her attention back to the author and pulled her hand from his. “Then you have nothing to fear.” She glanced at Veronica. “I had no idea you knew Mr. Ellsworth.”

“My repertoire of friends and acquaintances is remarkably varied.” Veronica waved her hand in a blithe manner. “You would be surprised.”

Lord Mountdale snorted.

“Lady Smithson and I met at a literary salon at Lady Tennwright’s,” Mr. Ellsworth said smoothly. “She was kind enough to invite me this evening.”

“It’s to be quite a literary evening,” Veronica said smugly.

“A literary evening?” Julia studied her friend. “I wasn’t aware that you enjoyed literary evenings.”

“I enjoy all sorts of things,” Veronica said in a lofty manner. “We also have two poets in attendance as well as one of my cousins who fancies herself a poetess. If we are lucky the gentlemen will read some of their work after dinner.” Veronica’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “If we are very lucky, my cousin will not.”

“Still, one never knows when one might discover a new literary talent,” Mr. Ellsworth said in a kind manner.

“I have read her efforts, Mr. Ellsworth. If simply being able to rhyme head with dead is talent then she is blessed indeed. However, it is my duty as a hostess to shield my guests from such unbridled brilliance.”

Julia choked back a laugh.

Veronica looked at her pointedly. “I had hoped for more interesting entertainment.”

“Lady Winterset.” Mr. Ellsworth’s brow furrowed. “Your name sounds familiar. Have we met?”

“Not that I can recall,” Julia said with a smile. “Perhaps you knew my late husband, Sir William Winterset?”

“No.” He shook his head. “And I can’t for the life of me imagine forgetting you.”

“You are too kind.” And entirely too polished. But then, Mr. Ellsworth’s reputation for amorous pursuits rivaled that of his literary efforts. He had been involved in more than one public scandal to his benefit. Scandal did indeed sell books.

He studied her for a moment then realization dawned on his face. “I have it.” He flashed her a practiced grin. “I believe you and I have a great deal in common and a common acquaintance as well.”

Julia raised a brow. “Do we?”

“Mr. Benjamin Cadwallender.” He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “He has mentioned your ancestor’s book to me and I must agree it should be a rousing success.”

She stared at him. “Do you really think so?”

“I do indeed.” He straightened. “Perhaps we can discuss your venture further at another time.”

“Isn’t publishing a somewhat risky endeavor, Mr. Ellsworth?” Lord Mountdale asked casually.

The author nodded. “It is true, my lord, that one never knows how a work will be received. However, when one’s material is particularly intriguing or when one already has a certain literary reputation”—he flashed a confident smile—“the risk involved is far less.”

“Fortunately, the risk of dinner being overcooked has just been minimized as I see Lady Redwell has finally arrived.” Veronica turned to Julia. “Mr. Ellsworth has agreed to escort Portia in to dinner.”

Julia grinned. Portia adored Mr. Ellsworth’s books. “Oh, she’ll like that.”

“I thought so.” Veronica addressed the author. “I should introduce you. Mr. Ellsworth?”

“I would be delighted.” He offered Veronica his arm and they started across the room, leaving Julia alone with Lord Mountdale.

Lord Mountdale chuckled. “He is every bit as interesting as I have heard.”

She studied him curiously. “You sound amused.”

“I am amused by a great many things.”

“Are you?”

“I am indeed.” He shrugged. “I simply don’t often reveal my amusement.”

“Why not?” she said without thinking.

He was obviously taken aback by the question. “I don’t know. I suppose I have always considered it undignified to show one’s amusement.”

“And is it undignified as well to smile as if one truly means it?”

“No, it isn’t.” He smiled wryly. “I am a man of many flaws, Lady Winterset, as I’m sure Veronica has mentioned. She has recently pointed out this particular fault out to me. Even though I have never seen it as such, my”—he cleared his throat—“stuffy manner is one flaw I am endeavoring to change.”

“Because you wish to convince me to sell you the memoirs?”

“That, Lady Winterset, would be an added bonus.” He grinned, an unabashed, heartfelt grin that unexpectedly caught at her breath.

Good Lord, she’d noted when she’d first met him that he was handsome. Now, he was, well, more. This was absurd. She didn’t like the man. It would take more than a smile that bespoke of all sorts of … of possibilities to make her feel otherwise.

She drew a steadying breath. “I think I should tell you, Lord Mountdale—”

“My given name is Harrison.”

She widened her eyes. “Yes, I know.”

“And yours is Julia.”

“I know that as well.” She shook her head. “In spite of your newfound determination to be less stuffy, calling one another by our given names would be entirely improper.”

“Quite right, although I had rather hoped you and I could be friends.” He smiled. Again. “Please go on.”

“Yes, well, as I was saying …” This was ridiculous. She was well equipped to deal with the stern, pompous Lord Mountdale. This … this
Harrison
was altogether too appealing. She wasn’t used to being flustered by a man and she did not like it one bit. As for being friends, that too was absurd. “I know that this party was your idea in hopes of changing my mind about the memoirs.”

“It was, but it was not to convince you to change your mind about the memoirs. Merely to change your mind about me so that you will at least continue to allow me to plead my case.”

“I suppose it is unfair of me to reject your offer simply because …”

“Because you don’t like me?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“I don’t believe it was necessary to actually say it.”

“My apologies, my lord. I do not usually base my opinion on a single meeting. Especially when emotions are involved.”

“No apology is necessary. I realized the moment I left that I had been overbearing, demanding, and didn’t give due consideration to your concerns.” He shook his head. “I was a …”

“Ill-mannered boor?”

“Among other things I can think of, ill-mannered boor being the kindest. In addition”—he winced—“I insulted your lamp.”

She bit back a smile. “It’s a very sensitive lamp.”

“And I apologize for calling it ugly. It’s really quite …” He searched for the right word. “Interesting.”

“On behalf of my lamp and myself, I accept your apology.”

“Then, as this is neither the time nor the place to discuss what is essentially business, I suggest we say no more about it tonight and enjoy what promises to be a pleasant evening.” His gaze met hers. “Don’t you agree?”

“I do.” She nodded with relief.

He glanced behind her. “I see it is time to go in to dinner.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Of course.” She smiled and took his arm.

“One more thing, Lady Winterset, and then we shall set the topic of our last meeting aside hopefully forever.”

“Yes?”

He leaned close and spoke softly into her ear. “My cravat is never crooked.”

It was a brilliant idea when he conceived it and it was progressing just as brilliantly.

As was the plan, he was seated next to Lady Winter-set—or rather, Julia. As improper as it was, he could not help but think of her as Julia, as that was how Veronica referred to her. It had been his idea as well to seat Lady Redwell and Mr. Ellsworth across from them—the author, to enable him to direct the conversation to the vagaries of publishing, and Lady Redwell, because she was the only other person Veronica had said Julia would know at the table. While he fully intended to devote most of his attention to her, he did not want said attention to seem too obvious.

Veronica’s cousin, Miss Evangeline Nelson, sat on Mr. Ellsworth’s other side. She was a chatterbox with literary pretensions and obviously thrilled to be sitting next to the famous author. Unassuming in appearance, Miss Nelson was the kind of lady one would pass on the street without a second look. Still, in spite of her endless babble, her enthusiasm and excitement gave her an air of animation that was almost attractive. Her ongoing chatter, while somewhat annoying, had the unexpected benefit of eliminating any possibility of awkward silences. It was also quite amusing to watch both Miss Nelson and Lady Redwell vie for the attention of Mr. Ellsworth.

“I think that’s a brilliant idea for a poem,” Lady Red-well said to the gentleman beside her.

One of the poets Veronica had invited, neither of whom Harrison had ever heard of, sat beside Lady Redwell, across from Harrison. The other poet was next to Julia but was engaged in a heated discussion with the guests on his left about the merits of various literary movements or some such nonsense. Still, Harrison vowed to read some of the gentleman’s work in gratitude for leaving Julia’s attention free.