Juliana (25 page)

After all, she had no shortage of dance invitations. Perhaps a few less than normal, since she’d been dancing so often with the duke lately, but that hadn’t stopped gentlemen from asking when the duke wasn’t nearby to intimidate them. And there was another obvious benefit to accepting other invitations—it would also make the duke jealous and possessive!

“Lady Amanda would love to dance,” she told him with a sweet smile. “Why don’t you ask her for the next waltz?”

She didn’t know who looked more startled, the duke or Amanda. But as the musicians struck up a waltz, he bowed to Amanda very properly—no surprise there—and escorted her to the dance floor.

Juliana turned, expecting to be inundated with invitations. Any moment, now. As soon as the other gentlemen noticed she was on her own.

Unfortunately, Corinna noticed first. “Is your duke courting Amanda?”

“Of course he isn’t. Amanda would never consent to marry him—he’s a by-blow, remember? But I thought it would be a good idea for them to get to know each other better, so I suggested they dance.”

“If you wish to marry the fellow, you shouldn’t shove him at other girls. What if he kisses her? He might decide he wants her instead, and Amanda could change her mind—”

“He’s not going to kiss her,” Juliana interrupted.

Corinna measured her a moment. “How can you be so sure?”

“He isn’t interested in her—he doesn’t call her
my dear
. And he’s extremely reserved. He hasn’t even kissed
me
.”

“Then how on earth do you know you love him?” Corinna asked.

Juliana remained silent, wondering yet again how a girl who’d never been in love was supposed to
know
she was in love.

Her sister added, “And how do you know you want to marry him?”

“What do you mean, how do I know?” He was kind. He sent her flowers. He enjoyed amusements, fine horses, balls, and entertainments. He had wealth to support himself in style. He was classically handsome, as only an aristocratic Englishman could be. And he was a duke. “Who—besides Amanda—wouldn’t want to marry him?”

“You really must kiss a young man before you marry him. In my experience, it makes all the difference.”

“In your experience? What experience?”

“Kissing experience, of course.”

“What?”
Corinna was a year younger and far more interested in paint than men! How was it that she’d been kissed, while Juliana had scarcely even been touched?

“What?” Corinna blinked. “Have you not kissed anyone?”

“No!”

“Well, what have you been doing all season, then? Gentlemen don’t all kiss the same, you know,” her younger sister informed her with the surety of an experienced woman.

This was news to Juliana—how many different sorts of kissing were there?

Corinna crossed her arms. ”How is a lady to know she’s found her prince if she hasn’t kissed a few frogs first?”

“Really, Corinna.” The girl always
had
been a bit of a rebel, but this was quite beyond the pale. “I’d wager Aunt Frances—your chaperone, in case you forgot?—wouldn’t approve of you kissing gentlemen you’ve barely met.”

“I don’t let them kiss me when I’ve barely met them.” Corinna’s chin went into the air. “I make them wait at least a week.”

“A week!” Juliana had known the duke
much
longer than a week.

“At least,” Corinna repeated. “And as for Aunt Frances, she’s known Lord Malmsey quite a bit longer than a week. Let’s ask her if she’s kissed him.” She signaled to their aunt as she was coming off the dance floor.

Aunt Frances didn’t notice. On Juliana’s recommendation, she still wasn’t wearing her spectacles. Which was a good thing, because such a question might make the poor spinster faint. “You cannot ask her that!”

“Why not?” Corinna said, marching toward her.

Juliana followed helplessly.

“Aunt Frances!” Corinna called.

“Yes?” Their aunt turned and squinted. “Oh, there you are, girls. Are you having a wonderful time?”

Corinna ignored her question, which was probably rhetorical anyway. “Aunt Frances, have you kissed Lord Malmsey?”

Two bright spots appeared on their aunt’s cheeks. “Well…”

“Have you?” Corinna demanded.

Frances squared her shoulders and lowered her voice. “I’m not a green girl, you know. It’s no great sin. A woman should kiss a man before she decides to marry him.”

Faith! Aunt Frances had kissed Lord Malmsey!

And she wanted to marry him! Juliana was torn between jubilation at her project’s success and shock at hearing that her shy, oblivious, spinster aunt had been kissed.

And
she
hadn’t.

That made her officially the oldest unkissed woman in England.

Well, there was Amanda. But come midnight, when James compromised her, even straitlaced Amanda would be kissed. Which meant Juliana would stand alone.

It was depressing beyond description.

“Aunt Frances!” Alexandra joined their circle with Tristan. “I’ve never seen you look so happy.”

Aunt Frances kissed her on the cheek. “You look happy, too.”

“I am, Auntie.” Alexandra smiled up at Tristan. Love blazed in their eyes. “We are.”

Splendid. Everyone was happy. Except Juliana.

James joined their circle next, squeezing in beside her. “Good evening, everyone.”

While it was a relief that he’d finally arrived, Juliana was even more relieved to see he didn’t look insanely happy. It was odd, because she usually wanted to see everybody happy. But honestly, right now the sight of one more blatantly happy person would likely make her gag.

“Are your aunts doing well?” she asked.

“They’re fine. Not that they’d say the same—they’re both convinced they’re at death’s door.” He gestured toward the edge of the dance floor, where the two older ladies were talking to his mother. “They summoned me yet again this afternoon.”

“They’re keeping you from getting your important work done, aren’t they?”

“Somewhat. But they’re family.” He shrugged philosophically. “What can I do?”

“There has to be something.” She watched Lord Cavanaugh claim Lady Stafford for a dance. “Maybe they need suitors, like your mother. She’s happy.”

“I’m happy,” Aunt Frances said with a nod of approval. “A suitor will do that for a lady.”

“But I’m happy,” Corinna pointed out, “and I don’t have a suitor.”

No, but she’d been kissed. Juliana glared at her.

Corinna glared back, then smiled sweetly. “Alexandra’s happy, too.”

“That’s because she’s with child,” James said.

A little hush fell over their circle. Juliana swung to her older sister. “Is that true?”

“It is,” Tristan confirmed. Beaming, he slid an arm around his wife’s waist. “We’re both thrilled.”

James looked stricken. “My sincerest apologies. I didn’t realize you hadn’t told—”

He was drowned out by Corinna’s and Aunt Frances’s shrieks as they engulfed Tristan and Alexandra in a group hug.

Juliana took a step back. Corinna had been kissed, and Alexandra and Tristan were going to have a baby. She was happy for them. And for herself, for the whole family. She was pleased. Joyous. Jubilant. And something else. Something that made her fists clench at her sides.

“You’re jealous,” James said in her ear.

“I am not.” Dismayed, she turned to him. “I’m happy for my sister. And for me. I’ll have a niece or nephew to play with. How on earth did you know she was carrying a child?”

James shrugged. “I’m a physician.”

With a huff she spun back around, intending to join the family celebration.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Your turn will come,” he said.

“Who said I wanted a turn?”

He shrugged again and removed his hand.

With her head held high, she strutted off to congratulate the beaming couple.

James left the Chases alone to enjoy a private family moment. He needed a drink.

Watching the scene had left an odd mix of emotions swirling inside him. Seeing Hawkridge’s elation recalled his own happy memories, which recalled sad memories, all of which brought on a new and appalling realization.

He
was jealous, too.

“YOU’RE FOXED,”
Juliana told James later as they danced.

“Maybe.” His thumb made its way beneath the edge of her glove and tickled the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. “Or maybe not.”

“You are.” She laughed, suppressing a shiver. “You’ve had three cups of punch tonight already.”

“Four,” he corrected. “Small cups. In two hours. And how would you come to know that, anyway? Are you watching me, Juliana?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly, avoiding his eyes. Her gaze fell on his cravat, and she found herself picturing the golden skin she knew was behind it. And wondering what the rest of his chest might look like below it. Were men’s chests truly all ridged and muscled like the centaur statue’s had been? Or was that just artistic license?

It really wasn’t fair how—in contrast to ladies’ fashions—gentlemen’s attire left
everything
to the imagination.

“Hmm,” he said. A smug-sounding
hmm
. She looked up again to find him gazing at her in that way that made her fear he could read her mind. The pad of his thumb kept skimming her wrist.

It seemed liquor made him even more amorous than macaroons. Which was uncomfortable for Juliana, but also a good thing, because it meant Amanda would have an easier time getting herself compromised.

And poor, demure Amanda would need all the help she could get.

On the other side of the dance floor, Amanda was paired again with the duke, the both of them rigid as ever. In the two hours since Juliana suggested they dance together, she herself had danced with twelve other young men. Vivaciously and enthusiastically. But the duke hadn’t seemed to take any note.

It hadn’t helped that he’d spent more half of those two hours in the card room.

Between Juliana’s dozen dances, the duke had emerged and danced with her twice, but despite all her efforts to draw him out, she hadn’t gotten him any closer to kissing her.

Still gazing at James’s cravat, she tried to picture the duke’s skin in the open V of a shirt. She imagined it would be ivory instead of golden. But he probably never loosened his collar, anyway. He probably went to bed fully dressed, with his shirt fastened up to his chin, a cravat knotted in layers to cover it, and a waistcoat and tailcoat besides. Both fully buttoned.

It was heartbreaking, really. He truly needed a girl like her in his life. She resolved to remain patient, to keep working toward his happiness, no matter how long the process took. After all, it had taken an entire childhood of cold treatment to turn him into the man he was today. She shouldn’t be surprised if it took more than a few weeks of warmth to counteract that.

Thankfully, the rest of her projects were coming along nicely. Aunt Frances and Lord Malmsey had kissed. Lord Cavanaugh had danced three times with Lady Stafford, and they’d probably kissed as well. And Amanda and James would be kissing soon.

Every woman in London would be kissed tonight except for Juliana.

Unless…

Maneuvering the last few steps of the dance to end up by Amanda and the duke, she curtsied to James and then turned to them.  “Shall we exchange partners?”

The duke looked so startled at her forwardness, she nearly lost her nerve.  But she’d never been one to just stand by and let things happen—or in this case, not happen—so when the musicians resumed playing, she got the duke into position, steeled herself, and began surreptitiously inching him toward a potted palm.

At least she
tried
to be surreptitious. Unfortunately, the tune wasn’t a waltz but a minuet—which meant the dancers moved back and forth rather than progressing in a particular direction.

“I’m supposed to lead, my dear,” the duke gently chided. “Why are you taking larger steps towards the right than the left?”

She decided not to play coy. The duke never seemed to take a hint, so she’d best come out and say it. “I’m hoping to get you alone behind that potted palm.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m hoping for a kiss.”

He blinked.  “Before marriage?”

She mentally rolled her eyes. “Yes, before marriage.” And though she’d never expected to quote Aunt Frances regarding intimate matters, she found herself adding, “It’s no great sin, you know.”

“Perhaps not, my dear, but it also wouldn’t be proper.”

Her heart sank. “Don’t you
want
to kiss me?” she asked. “You’re courting me. You’ve sent me flowers three times. I thought you were falling in love with me.”

The instant the words left her mouth she wished she could stuff them back in.

Until he said, “Oh, but I am.”

Oh, but I am!

Her heart soared. The duke
was
falling in love with her! She’d swear she could hear birds singing. Or perhaps they were angels. Either way, it meant everything was marvelous! She and the duke would be married—just as soon as she finished falling in love with him. She’d be a duchess! People would call her
your grace
!