Emily Hendrickson (17 page)

Mrs. Tackley brought Lucy over to chat, commenting with caution on the attention her daughter received from Lord Taunton. Here was one mother not completely overwhelmed by a title. Juliet gave her high marks for common sense.

When Mr. Wyllard requested Lucy’s hand for the next country dance, Mrs. Tackley watched them walk away to join the others and said, “I intend to write to the dowager Lady Hawkswood to learn more about Lord Taunton. She may live a secluded life, but she knows all that goes on in Society.”

Juliet felt a sudden chill hit her. “Is that so? I do not think my husband is on close terms with his grandmother. At least,” Juliet amended, “he never speaks of her to me.”

“You must have met her, surely?” Mrs. Tackley probed with circumspection.

Forgetting that she had revealed very little of their past to the local gentry, Juliet said, “My husband and I most romantically eloped to Gretna. I had not had a Season in London because my mother died and then my father went off to Russia. There was no opportunity for me to have met the lady.”

Mrs. Tackley appeared to digest this bit of information, then moved off to join Mrs. Ogleby where she shared the tidbit.

The squire’s daughter, Mary, joined Juliet by the punch bowl, eyeing the single men in attendance with an assessing eye.

“When do you marry Parson Richards, Mary?

The girl blushed and said, “Come September. I am to go to Salisbury for my wedding trousseau. Mrs. Ogleby said we had best go to the same mantua-maker you used. Your gown is very lovely, my lady.”

Juliet thought of green satin and smiled. “Thank you, Mary. I think she did very well for me. I feel certain that she will make you a lovely wedding gown.”

“Did you have a wedding gown when you married Lord Hawkswood? Or did you wear something you brought along?” Then Mary blushed again, realizing the impropriety of her question.

“A simple gown,” Juliet replied, not wanting to snub the girl, yet unable to think of a suitable fiction.

Juliet wished she might know the comfort of a friend in whom she could confide and seek advice. For the moment she dare not think of such a thing. But Mary seemed such a sensible girl, and for the moment Juliet forgot she was supposedly a married woman. She merely wanted a friend.

“I believe I shall want something simple as well. If I am not extravagant on my wedding dress, I shall have more to spend on other things,” Mary said wisely.

“True, true,” Juliet agreed, wishing the parson would come to claim Mary and whisk her away from here.

Instead of the parson, Alexander joined them, thus effectively silencing the shy Mary
.
When the parson actually claimed his bride-to-be, Juliet turned urgently to Alexander.

“Mrs. Tackley said she intends to write your grandmother to inquire about Lord Taunton—his background and prospects, most likely.”

“Good,” Alexander said absently, then looked to Juliet. “Not good,” he said in reversal.

“Most assuredly not good. Mrs. Tackley was certain I had met the dowager, and I fear I mentioned our flit to Gretna— most romantic, you know—as well as my mother’s death and Father’s trip to Russia being the cause of my not having a Season. As soon as I had said the words, I knew I ought to have kept silent.”

“Well,” Alexander said with a touch of philosophy in his voice, “what has been said cannot be unsaid. The trouble with not telling the truth is that you have to remember the lies that have been told and keep them straight.”

“Do I see Marius pouring something into the punch?” Juliet asked with alarm.

“I’ll have the footman exchange it for another bowl. Mrs. Bassett has one in the kitchen, I trust?”

“Indeed, she has. But why? Does he wish our guests to be tipsy? That would be a scandal.”

Alexander murmured agreement, then went off to inform the footman to make the exchange before confronting his supposed relative.

Juliet watched worriedly as the two men spoke, plying her fan with more energy than she had expected to have at this point in the evening. Whatever Alexander said to Marius had a strange effect on her stepbrother. He grew rather red in the face—had it been a woman, Juliet would have called it a blush—and appeared to offer an apology. Alexander uttered a few more words, then returned to Juliet’s side.

“He seemed to think things needed to be livened up a trifle. I explained.”

“Thank you, Alexander. What else can go wrong?” she said softly. “I do hope Mrs. Tackley writes nothing about us to your grandmother.”

“As do I,” he agreed, clearly thinking it impossible Mrs. Tackley would do otherwise.

But the remainder of the evening went well. The supper was enjoyed by all, and if Marius thought it a bit dull, he knew better than to attempt again to add spirits to the punch.

They were about to leave the supper room when the footman approached Alexander, drawing him to one side and murmuring discreetly to him.

Juliet wondered what might cause Alexander’s look of alarm, rapidly followed by an expression of dismay. He excused himself at once to hurry after the footman.

Alexander entered the library and stared at the person who awaited him, his expression something between horror and astonishment.

“Harry Riggs! Dare I hope this is not what I fear it to be?” He crossed over to a narrow table to pour a glass of claret for his friend, then one for himself.

“I dislike to be the bearer of bad news, Alexander. I caught wind of a tidbit regarding the beautiful Camilla and managed to follow her to Salisbury. How she has tracked you this far is beyond me.
I’ve
not said a word,” Harry asserted, then took a long swallow of the excellent claret. “I do
not
think she has seen me, nor does she know she has been pursued. She is hot on your trail; a more determined woman I have yet to see. I trust your clever mind can think up an excellent reason to fob her off?”

“The best, my friend,” Alexander replied dryly. “I am already married. She can hardly insist I commit bigamy.”

“Oh, I say, that is good. Who will play the part?” Harry asked with a chuckle.

A tap on the door halted the exchange, and Alexander invited the person in, having a fair idea as to whom it might be.

Juliet entered, then stopped when she saw the stranger.

As for Harry, his eyes nearly popped when he beheld the lovely woman who crossed the room to stand intimately by his friend’s side.

“Alexander? Introduce me,” she commanded nicely with a demure sparkle in her fine amber eyes.

“Juliet, this is my oldest friend, Harry Riggs, down from London. Harry, may I present my wife?” Alexander tucked her hand close to his side and waited.

“You
really
have a wife? It’s not a ruse? That’s a bit extreme, is it not?” Then Harry appeared to realize what he’d said, for he turned a deep red and blustered, “That is to say, charmed lo make your acquaintance, my lady.”

“We are giving a ball this evening,” Juliet informed Harry with a smile. “The others are having supper at present, but they will be filtering back to most likely dance once again. Will you join us?”

“Harry will be staying with us. I expect his man has already unpacked his gear, and Harry will happily change, to return in a trice. Am I not correct, Harry?”

“Yes. Yes, indeed. I won’t be but a moment.”

Alexander rang for Mrs. Bassett, who took Harry away with her, not revealing by so much as a frown that he upset her evening in any way.

“You did not seem greatly pleased to learn your friend had arrived,” Juliet said, a question in her voice.

“He was only to come in the event he knew something regarding Camilla and any danger she might present to me.”

“And?” Juliet asked, looking at Alexander with dawning consternation in her eyes.

“Camilla is in Salisbury. There is every possibility she will come here.”

“What a disgustingly persistent female, my lord,” Juliet said, that sparkle returning to her eyes. “What a pity she has gone to so much trouble, only to find that you are already married.” Whereupon Juliet drew her supposed husband along with her to rejoin their guests, an odd little smile tilting her tips.

Chapter 10

Alexander met Harry Riggs at the breakfast table before Marius Winterton and Lord Taunton came downstairs.

Harry helped himself to buttered eggs, a thick slab of ham, a stack of toast, then nodded to the maid to fill his cup with steaming coffee before he taxed his friend for the truth.

“Where did you find that enchanting creature you introduced as your wife?” he asked around a mouthful of ham. “You haven’t been here long enough to have wooed and won so fair a young maiden as she.”

“It is a long and complicated tale.” Alexander filled his plate, poured a cup of coffee, then toyed with the food while he considered how much to reveal.

Harry forked another bit of ham in his mouth, then leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully as he surveyed his companion. “Well?” he inquired as the silence went on too long. “Never say there is something questionable here?”

Alexander rubbed his chin, still unsure, then decided his best friend, who had pursued Camilla and come to warn him of her proximity, deserved nothing less than the truth or nearly all the truth. So he explained as best he could about discovering Juliet in residence when he arrived, that she had captured the hearts of the local gentry, and that she had needed him quite as much as he would need her assistance. He avoided details of any marriage.

“Didn’t care for that brother of hers in the least,” Harry mumbled. “Something not quite right about him. Don’t look the least bit alike.”

“Stepbrother—and he’d taken it upon himself to find Juliet a husband. Only she didn’t want a fellow just like Marius,” Alexander said dryly.

“Can’t say I blame her for that, old fellow,” Harry said quietly, mindful that others in the house might be coming down for a meal. “But did you have to marry the girl? I thought you wanted to avoid that situation?”

“Now, if you walked into a house to find that lovely woman capably handling all affairs, talented, charming, everything you might like in a wife—and claiming to be your wife—what would you do?” Alexander had spoken softly, but he rose to check the hall to make certain no one was about. The house was almost too silent.

Harry stared at his plate a moment, then looked up at Alexander. “I see what you mean. I’d likely do the same thing. So what happens now?”

“You really think Camilla will come here?” Alexander countered, avoiding a discussion of the future with Juliet for the moment.

“I should think so. Girl must have a nose like a bloodhound. If she tracked you to Salisbury, she will most likely find Woodbury. Amazing woman, Camilla. Can’t think why she is so set upon having you—not that you aren’t a fine chap and all that, but to go to such lengths is not normal, is it?” Harry leaned back in his chair to contemplate the last of his toast.

“Not in my book,” Alexander agreed.

“I wonder what she will do when she arrives to find you already married?” Harry mused before sipping his cooling coffee.

“Juliet called her a disgustingly persistent female,” Alexander said, remembering the concise evaluation from his wife. “I have no doubt but what we will be saddled with another guest until she is convinced of the marriage.”

“I’d give a pony to see her face when she hears the news,” Harry concluded with a chuckle.

“You are on,” Alexander said, pushing aside his scarcely touched plate of food. “All you have to do is remain with me for the day.” He rose from the table, gestured to the rear of the house, and inquired if his friend would like a brisk canter, seeing the morning was so fine.

“Juliet?” Harry asked with a glance up the stairway.

“My wife has her chocolate in her room while she plans her day. We will see her later. I believe she is supposed to call on one of the neighbors this afternoon.” Alexander was not sure why he made a point of calling Juliet his wife in every reference to her, even to Harry, but he found he could do no less. Considering what he knew would be their fate, it was the least he could do.

“Well, she did a dashed fine job with your ball.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Alexander agreed. “I am fortunate to discover a woman not only beautiful but capable as well.”

They strode from the house and off to the stables in perfect harmony, ready to face the day and what it brought with equanimity.

* * * *

At the top of the stairs Juliet remained in her doorway, quite shaken at what she had inadvertently overheard. Alexander thought her beautiful and capable? He was pleased with her efforts on the ball? Well, if he truly feared this Camilla creature, she, stalwart Juliet, would do all she could to help the gentleman who had assisted her.

And he was a gentleman, no doubt about that. She ignored the episode with the rosebud nightgown;
that
scandalous event she preferred to forget if possible. In every other instance, however, he had been the courteous
preux chevalier.
It remained to be seen if he could turn out to be her knight in shining armor in actuality, but Juliet was content as things stood now—more or less.

One of these fine days Alexander would discover that he loved her—as she had found she loved him. Surely it could not be so great a step from thinking her beautiful and capable to lovable and loved?

She returned to her room to dress for the day, sighing as Pansy took the white muslin dress from the wardrobe. How tired she was of the same dresses over and over again. There was nothing for it but to go into Salisbury and order several new gowns. Particularly now that this Camilla creature loomed on the horizon. Juliet could have the bill sent to Lord Hawkswood and then reimburse him from the money that was bound to come from Marius.

Knowing she had best depart promptly were she to spend much of the day with the mantua-maker, Juliet requested Pansy to don her bonnet and prepare to accompany her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Pansy said with enthusiasm. “Your gowns are going to fall apart before long iffen you don’t order some new ones.” The maid happily took herself off to her room, then joined Juliet at the front of the house when the groom drew up with the small carriage that had been in the stables. It was old, but the leather had been kept oiled and softened, the rest maintained in decent repair, and it certainly would do for the short drive to Salisbury.