Lady Revealed (12 page)

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Authors: Jane Charles

BOOK: Lady Revealed
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She snorted to herself, as if it would be easy to forget about him. But, in time it would be, of that she was certain. Why, she might not even be thinking of him now had she and her family remained in Milan. He would have returned home, she would have continued to dance and possibly have met someone who was honorable and wished her to be more than a temporary paramour.

Juliette quietly left the house with
Genviève and made her way to the flower market. Was it a mistake to meet Acker again? Yet, she needed to know what he wanted to tell her. It could change everything, or further hurt her. Was it worth the risk?

Yes.

She paused at the edge of the Piazza and took a deep breath. He was standing at the side of the flower market, looking around. He was looking for her. Today he wore a brown jacket that complimented his hair, long enough to brush his collar. Her heartbeat increased and her stomach did a queer little flip. Why did the mere sight of Acker affect her so? Juliette steeled herself and began walking in his direction. She would hear what he had to say and then decide if she would speak with him again. Of course, any meeting would need to remain a secret from maman. At least for the moment.

He turned as she approached; he smiled and walked toward her. “I was afraid you would not come.”

“I said I would,” Juliette answered politely.

“Shall we go into a coffeehouse?” He gestured to the building they stood before.

Juliette had not entered one of these establishments before but it didn’t look much different from the caffès in Milan. Perhaps it was safer to walk, but inside they would be surrounded by people and the aroma coming from within smelled heavenly.

Acker offered his arm and waited. Juliette stole a glance over her shoulder.
Genviève had moved to a stand selling flowers but watched them as well. Since her sister would know where she had gone, Juliette accepted Acker’s arm and allowed him to lead her inside.

He chose a table along the wall, away from others. It was early but Juliette suspected the establishment would fill soon. Acker ordered two cups of coffee and crumpets while Juliette waited for him to explain. The door was not far away and if she did not like what he had to say she would simply get up and leave.

“You’ve grown lovelier in the year since I have seen you.”

Juliette hitched a brow. She would not succumb to his charm. As far as she knew, he still wanted a mistress, or perhaps he had married. Any number of changes could have taken place in the near year since she had seen him.

The cups of coffee were put before them, along with a small pot and plate of crumpets. Usually breakfast held more substance but she had already eaten at home and suspected Acker had as well. Not that she was able to partake of much food given her throat was tight and her stomach in knots with nerves about meeting Acker.

“Juliette,” he began. “I meant no insult in Milan.”

She tilted her head. “You assumed because I am a dancer that—.”

“—No,” he interrupted. “I thought I was to marry someone else.”

Her heart seized for a moment. He never indicated that he was engaged. In fact, he denied it when asked by her sister the last night they dined together. This was even worse than she imagined. He knew all along he was to marry yet pursued her.

“Why haven’t you?”

Acker smiled and chuckled. “She fell in love with someone else, a friend actually.”

There was a pang of sympathy for him but it was quickly extinguished. He deserved to lose this young woman since he had no qualms about kissing and touching her while separated from his betrothed. “I am assuming she broke it off after you returned, or did she marry while you were away.”

The left side of his mouth turned up in humor. “We were never betrothed. I had simply assumed that one day we would marry because we are great friends and I thought she needed me.”

“Perhaps you should have asked instead of assuming.”

This time he chuckled. “I did, many times. She always rejected my offer.”

Juliette frowned. “Then why did you assume she and you would marry?”

“I thought it would come about eventually, but Elle knew better.”

“Elle?”

“Eleanor, now Lady Bentley.”

Her breath lodged in her throat and for a moment Juliette could not breathe. Of course, Acker, being a viscount probably new many titled families, but his dearest friend had married Bentley. The lord who had the power to send maman from England.

“Is something wrong?”

Juliette stared at him, breathing now. “No,” she answered. “Go on; tell me about your Eleanor.” Even if Acker somehow managed to gain her forgiveness for the past insult, they could never see each other again. What if he told Bentley about her, or maman?

Stop, Juliette. Acker never met your mother and doesn’t know her name.

“She is, was a neighbor and a dear friend. She still is. I thought we would do well with one another but she knew better. We were meant to be only friends.”

“You were not in love? Your heart wasn’t broken.”

Acker shook his head. “No. At least not the kind of love she deserved from a husband.”

The fact that he wasn’t in love and it appeared as he saw the marriage more of one of convenience helped sooth the hurt that he was to have married another. Yet it clearly bespoke of what his intentions had been for her in Milan, and probably now.

She would not see Lord Acker after today. She did not wish to relive the hurt she suffered in Milan. Besides, she was not of his world and never would be and she could never risk him meeting maman and mentioning it to Lord Bentley.

Juliette no longer wished for Acker to explain his intentions as she suspected they had not changed. As she opened her mouth to tell him goodbye, Genviève rushed into the coffee house, her arms loaded with fresh flowers, and face pale.

She stopped at the table. “We must go.”

Juliette stared up at her. Of the three sisters, Genviève was the most calm and levelheaded. Right now she was panicked. The buds in the arms vibrated from the shaking of her hands.

“Has something happened?” Lord Acker asked.

Genviève did not even look at Acker. “I just met someone.”

“Who?”

“He asked about maman…” Her sister looked at Acker as she trailed off. “He was one of
them.

Juliette abruptly stood. “I must go.” She started to dart out of the coffee house after Genviève.

“Wait,” Acker called after them. “When can I meet you again?”

Juliette paused and turned, heart lodged in her throat. “Never.” Tears formed in her eyes but she would not let him see her cry. “We can never see one another again.”

SEVENTEEN

The two sisters barged into the house and raced into the parlor where their mother reclined on a settee. A blanket covered her lap and she seemed to be staring out the window at nothing of importance. In addition to her illness, Juliette was becoming concerned with the melancholy that seemed to have settled around maman. Perhaps they should say nothing to her about Genviève’s encounter. Unfortunately her sister spoke before Juliette could stop her.

“Who is Julia?” Genviève demanded.

Her mother turned in their direction. Her eyes widened with what Juliette interpreted as fear. “Why do you ask?”

“A gentleman approached me in the market this morning. He asked me to help him choose a bouquet for his soon-to-be betrothed.

“I don’t understand.” Her mother glanced to Juliette with questioning eyes.

“When we were finished, he asked my name,” Genviève continued.

“Did you give it to him?” maman asked carefully. Juliette watched the exchange. Even if Genviève had, there was no possible way he could have known her, or any of them.

“Yes.” She frowned. “Actually, I told him my name was Genevieve. I did not wish for him to know the truth.”

“As if there is much difference,” Juliette rolled her eyes.

“Tell me what this gentleman said,” her mother asked calmly though her hands clutched the blanket so tightly her knuckles grew white.

“He thought I was the daughter of someone who had been important to him at one time.”

A sad smile came to maman’s face.

“He said her name was Adele,” Genviève continued. “And that she had a daughter, his half-sister, named Julia.”

Maman closed her eyes for a moment. The color was gone from her cheeks. “Did he give you a name?”

“No. I did not ask but found Juliette and came straight home.”

Their mother sighed and relaxed.

“Who is Julia?” A memory flashed in Juliette’s mind, of holding a small blanket with the name Julia embroidered on it.

Her mother closed her eyes and a tear slid out the corner of one. “It doesn’t matter and nothing you should concern yourself with.”

“Am I Julia?”

Her mother stilled, and then brushed the tear away. “I changed your name when we left England.”

“Why?” she cried.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her mother turned her head to look out the window again, as if she could block the girls and their questions.

“Did you change my name as well,” Genviève demanded.

Her mother dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “You were not even born yet.”

“We have a brother you never thought to mention?” Juliette wanted to confirm that she understood correctly.

“Half-brother,” maman corrected.

“Maman, what else haven’t you told me. Why did you change my name?”

“I will tell you when we are free of this place and not before.”

“We won’t be free of London until we have the funds.”

Her mother sighed and slumped against the pillows. “We need to return to Milan, no matter what it takes. I won’t let them take you from me.”

 

*

 

Juliette did not leave the house again for several days. Not only had her mother forbidden it for fear of her half-brother finding her, but maman had gotten worse. She barely slept a few hours before being awakened because of the cough. Juliette stayed close, giving what comfort she could, though there wasn’t much she could do. Remaining inside also kept her from seeing Lord Acker. If he was persistent as he had claimed, Juliette feared he would be in the flower market each morning looking for her and demanding an explanation. Though she didn’t know him well, he had not given up before so why should he give up now, especially since she may have offered encouragement by agreeing to meet with him.

Genviève had sent a note to her employer after her encounter with their half-brother, claiming illness. She did not return to her post as a maid. Only Hélène worked, and she left each morning with the cloak pulled over her head and returned home the same way. As she worked on the intricate embroidery designs for gowns in the back of a shop, there was no chance she would come in contact with Society so maman had let her continue her employment. Besides, they needed some funds coming into the home.

Juliette paced inside her small room. The walls seemed to be closing in on her and there was no outlet for her frustration. If only she could dance she knew she would feel better but there was no chance of that occurring. Not even rehearsing the steps from former ballets in the large parlor helped.

How long would this last? They couldn’t remain hidden for the rest of their lives. And, why did they need to hide in the first place. Just because Genviève happened to meet someone asking about maman and Julia did not mean they would ever see him again. Even if he tried to find them, he would have realized they had not returned to the flower market and looked elsewhere. If only she could get out of the house and walk for a short bit but just making the suggestion sent her mother into a panic so Juliette retreated to her room, to pace. This could not continue.

“I’ve retrieved my jewelry,” her mother shuffled into her room holding a large golden and ornate box. “Hopefully we can get enough to buy passage back to Milan. You will be able to dance again and we can continue on as we had.”

Juliette took the jewelry box from her mother and sank into a chair. It was for the best. It was either return or hide here forever and she did not relish being cooped up in a set of rooms for the rest of their lives. Maman would regain her health in the warmer climate of Milan but was she strong enough to make the trip?

 

*

 

Acker walked through the Piazza, looking in every direction, just as he had done these last few days but neither Juliette, nor Genviève was to be found. They had simply disappeared. Certainly her mother had not decided to move them again. Acker had half a mind to hire a Bow Street Runner to find her but he knew so little other than they were last seen in this area. They might not even live in Covent Gardens, though he suspected they did. If only Juliette were dancing, then he could find her easily but she had not been hired when they last spoke. Or at least he didn’t think so. Certainly she would have mentioned it if she had.

He pushed his fingers through his hair and glanced about one more time when he saw Bentley coming toward him. It was odd for his friend to be out so early and in this part of London. Acker called over to him. Bentley stopped and walked toward Acker.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Bentley responded.

“I am looking for a young woman.”

Though Bentley hitched an eyebrow in curiosity he didn’t ask any questions.

“She is a ballerina I met in Milan. I thought I had lost her only to see her in London. But it seems I have lost her again.”

Normally Bentley would have laughed, but he didn’t even smile. Something was wrong. Normally Bentley was a bit reserved, if not stern. This morning he appeared more strained and there were dark smudges beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t slept well. “What are you doing in Covent Garden at this time of day?”

“I am retracing Jordan’s steps.”

Acker glanced back to where Bentley had come from. “Madame Devine’s?”

Bentley nodded.

Everyone who knew Jordan Trent also knew he once frequented the establishment on a regular basis and had a favorite lady. “Why?”

Bentley looked at him curiously. “You haven’t heard?”

Acker simply shook his head wondering what Bentley was about.

“Jordan was arrested for the murders of Dalton and Everton.”

Acker had heard of the two men being stabbed and killed. “Why would anyone think your brother could commit such a crime?”

“Apparently he was jealous of the attention Lady Lydell was giving the two gentlemen.”

None of this was making any sense to Acker. “Your brother doesn’t involve himself with married women and I can’t recall even seeing Jordan speak with the lady.”

“We both know he didn’t commit the crimes, but we still need to prove it. Bow Street insists it is him.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t trust them with locating Juliette. If they thought Jordan Trent could commit murder they weren’t as smart as Acker had given them credit for. “Is there anything I can do?”

Bentley thought for a moment. “Visit Eleanor.”

Acker nodded.

“She could use the distraction of a visit from you while I sort out this mess.”

“I will see to it this afternoon,” Acker assured him as Bentley marched away.

 

*

 

Juliette couldn’t believe it. In her hand she held the message from Mr. Fortier. One of the ballerinas had injured her ankle and would not be ready to dance in time for the production and he was asking her to replace the young woman. She knew her mother had forbidden her dancing again but Juliette could not ignore the invitation. She needed to dance as much as she needed food and water. It had been too long and part of her soul had been crying out for the stage. Now she had her chance.

Rushing upstairs she tossed her shoes and rehearsal clothes into a small bag, grabbed her cloak and rushed out the door. She left the note on the desk for anyone to find in the event they wondered where she disappeared to. Juliette didn’t dare tell her mother personally. The woman would likely forbid her to leave and Juliette wasn’t about to waste precious time arguing when she knew she would dance regardless of her mother’s objections.

Besides, maman was only being overly cautious. It was her illness that made her paranoid and Juliette could not remain in the house doing nothing. Just because Genviève happened to meet someone asking about them, and they were a family member, didn’t mean she would be recognized when she danced. The family may not even attend the ballet. The only person who would recognize her is Acker and she would worry about seeing him again, if and when he sought an audience after the performance.

Besides dancing, this was an opportunity to raise precious funds. Though maman insisted on selling her jewelry, neither she nor Genviève had been allowed to leave the house to see to the task. Her mother was becoming impossible to live with and the quicker they increased their savings the sooner they could leave England and return to Milan. Then they would once again be able to live freely without having to look over their shoulders.

And, if by chance someone from the family did recognize her when she danced and somehow caught up to her, Juliette would deal with them at that time. She was five and twenty and would not be ruled by the past and a situation she had no control over. Nor would she let her mother dictate her life any further.

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