The Infamous Bride (29 page)

"Surely not," he objected, without much spirit. There were faint shadows under his eyes, and a mark of ink just at his jawline.

"They are beautiful birds, and besides singing pleasantly, they don't complain when their cages are covered. I, it seems, am too stimulating for women like Mrs. Vandeveter."

He gave a genuine smile then, and her heart quickened. "Stimulating. Yes, I can see that could be true."

Juliet disguised her scold with a low laugh. "You may smile, but will you if Annabel cages us here in your father's home like she's caged those birds? Sometimes I do feel I have merely joined you in your cage. A pair of lovebirds on display for the amusement of the Boston ladies and gentlemen. And the ladies don't even appreciate my song."

"We can but give it time. They will thaw to you, I am sure."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps we should escape our cage and fly away before the cold shoulders freeze me to death."

A twist of his lips revealed a hint of pain before he covered it over with a bland smile. "I must not be rude to our guests." Without further word, he disappeared from her side, greeting the guests and moving as far away from her as possible. What had she said to make him abandon her so abruptly?

Susannah approached her with a worried gleam in her eye. "You sing most beautifully, Juliet. Surely tonight will bring many invitations."

"Nonsense. They still find me scandalous. It is your brother I am worried about. I merely jested about wanting to escape my cage before I am trapped like those finches, and you would have thought I had stabbed him through the heart."

Susannah gave a sympathetic pat to her elbow. "You couldn't have known. But when he was thirteen, he let one of the birds free so that he could watch it spread its beautiful wings and fly about the room. Unfortunately one of the maids had left a window open, and the bird escaped."

"That could not have pleased Annabel."

"No, Mama dismissed the maid and punished R.J. quite harshly. Or so I was told, every time I even looked at the birds."

Juliet could picture dark-haired solemn-eyed R.J., watching with a broad smile as the bird took wing. Running to the window, too late to stop the bird's escape. Taking his punishment without tears.

"So I have succeeded in turning my husband as cold to me as the highest of the Boston matrons? I am surprised you do not finish the tale by telling me he hunted for the bird until he found it and brought it home to please your mother and father."

With a smile, Susannah said, "The bird did not return. Mama always said it no doubt perished cold and alone, but R.J. told me he felt sure it had flown home to some warm island and was happy out of the cage at last."

Juliet laughed. "Valentine would have done the same."

Still, late that night, as she lay in his arms, she tried to apologize for bringing the painful memory back. "Susannah told me about the bird you let out of the cage. I'm sorry. I did not know."

"How could you?" He brushed his lips across her forehead sleepily. "It is not an act I am proud of."

"Your impulse was right — to free that poor trapped creature. Perhaps the finch did manage to find its way home to some warm island, as you told Susannah."

She felt his arms slacken, though he did not turn away. "Perhaps it did." His voice seemed distant, as though he would drift to sleep in an instant. Or as if he thought Annabel's assessment of the bird's fate more accurate.

Juliet pressed back sudden tears. When she had first heard the story, she had felt for him. Now she also sympathized with the bird's plight. She burrowed tight against him, pushing away the fear that she might share the same fate as the unlucky songbird. After all, there were moments when she thought that if she found an open window, she, too, would fly.

* * * * *

For some reason, the memory of that beautiful finch, lying broken and bloody in the garden only two days after his foolish attempt to free it, kept coming to mind as he tried to conduct business. He supposed one of Annabel's Persian cats must have found it an easy meal. Not that he would ever share that truth with either Susannah or Juliet. He would protect them from the harsh truth of life outside a cage for any beautiful creature.

"Have you found the lost shipment, yet?" His father entered his office and asked the question abruptly, as always.

"There are reports the ship went down off the coast of Portugal. I have a sent a man to obtain confirmation."

Both men were shocked to speechlessness when Juliet appeared at the door to his office, carrying a lunch basket.

"I thought you might take a few minutes to eat with me," she said to R.J. With a deliberately charming curtsey to his father, she added, "If you can spare him."

For a moment, he thought his father would order her out of the office, but instead he shook his head and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "He is all yours, my dear, for a quarter hour." He eyed R.J. sternly. "But I need him back after he has eaten."

His father left the office and R.J. marveled at the way Juliet's favorite red bonnet brightened the dull browns and blacks and creams of his decor.

She glanced at his father's departing back and whispered mischievously. "Have I caused you trouble?" She smiled.

"You have indeed," he replied. "But lunch with you is well worth the lecture I will face."

R.J. listened with only half an ear as Juliet described the latest tribulation she had suffered as she tried to find her place in Boston society. He did not catch more than a few words — "humiliating" "foolish" "trouble" and such other negative adjectives.

He had a basic understanding that no one appreciated the beauty of her voice. Which struck him as ridiculous. How could any but the deaf not hear the extraordinary quality of her voice and appreciate it?

But his attention was fully drawn when she burst into tears and he could no longer ignore the deep unhappiness of his wife. He pushed away the memory of the finch's broken wings that came unbidden. Juliet was not a finch, and he would not let her be harmed.

He gathered her into his embrace, pressing her to him until her sobs quieted. "I thought you were doing well, Juliet. I expect you are just impatient. It may take years for you to be fully accepted, you know."

"Years?" Her voice was strained from her emotional storm. "How can you say such a thing? I will go out of my mind if I must endure years of this behavior."

"What is so awful?" He stifled his alarm at her upset. She tended to feel things a little strongly. She did not mean what she said. His hand stroked her spine to soothe her.

He did not want to lose her. His life was so much more pleasant with her company. He knew, guiltily, that he did not spend as much time with her as she would like. But the time he did spend gave him such joy. Perhaps she did not find as much joy with him? Or perhaps she only needed to find her place and then she would be busy with her day while he worked.

He knew that, as it was now, she believed he preferred time at work to time with her. That was not true. But it was also irrelevant. What she did not understand, and perhaps he should make her see, was that if he wanted his father to trust him, he could not even give the appearance of neglecting the business for his wife.

"Juliet. Hush." He took her in his arms. "I am working for the both of us, you know."

"I do know it. But when we see each other so infrequently, is there really an us?"

He thought of how to make her see that there was a reward for their patience. "Don't you want your own home to run?"

"Yes. Has your father given you his blessing?" She brightened at the thought.

"Soon."

The happiness in her eyes dimmed. "When I am old and gray, no doubt."

He laughed. "Sooner than that. As soon as I have convinced Father that I am worthy to be his heir and successor, despite the fact that I enjoy taking a quarter hour lunch with my wife on occasion."

"Who else would he choose?"

R.J. stopped for a moment, his argument fleeing his brain. Who would Father appoint if he did not turn his businesses over to R.J.?

Seeing his puzzlement, she asked, "Has he trained no one else?"

"No."

"Has he spoken of anyone else he trusts to take over for him?"

"No."

She smiled as if she had made a telling point. "Then perhaps you should worry less about pleasing your father and more about pleasing yourself — and your wife."

For a glorious moment his hopes soared. Perhaps she was right, after all. Perhaps his father did trust him and hesitated to tell him so only from caution.

He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of his office. His grandfather's own first purchase to commemorate his business success. His quarter hour was at an end. "Not yet." No. He must not change his commitment to working long hours for success. He and Juliet would simply have to enjoy the few moments they could snatch out of the day. And the nights, of course. They would always have the nights together.

"Soon, then, I hope. I am weary of feeling as though I have grown an extra eye in the middle of my forehead and must be shunned."

He laughed and wrapped her in his arms for a moment, before he reluctantly saw her to the door. Annabel had already mentioned twice to him that she was flirting with the gentlemen again. He had seen how the men of Boston responded to her, just as those in London. He could not risk another scandal, not even a small one caused by an unhappy bride who flirted merely for amusement.

Feeling out of his depths but realizing that if he did not help her she might do something foolish, he said quickly, "We shall find you a charity to help you make your place. That will give you something to do with your days, while I am not at home."

It was late afternoon when R.J. slipped into their room. He had told his father he had a meeting, and like a skulking boy, sneaked into the house by the back entrance, avoiding notice by servants, who might inadvertently reveal his actions to his father.

He knew he was being irresponsible, but the blue of the sky had called to him, reminding him of Juliet and the day she had crossed the gardens to hand him the script that would change his life.

The room was strewn with dresses, much as he had found it the first day they arrived. A quick rush of memory engulfed him. Perhaps they could while away this afternoon in a bath, as they had that day. But he dismissed that idea quickly. A bath would require servants and he wanted no one but Juliet to know he was neglecting his duties.

She smiled when she saw him, but she was obviously distracted.

"What is all this?"

"My new wardrobe. The rest of the pieces Annabel helped me select have arrived." She frowned down at the pile of garments. "She suggested I should appear more matronly if I wanted to be taken seriously as a responsible matron of the charity persuasion."

"Sounds like a wise course of action."

"But I find I can't part so easily with these." She waved her hand to encompass the colorful garments strewn about the room. She lowered her voice as she confessed, "I dared not even ask the maid to help, as I know Annabel will order all of these things disposed of without mercy."

He lifted one, a bodice with a deep vee design made of dove-shaped buttons. "Will you keep your buttons?"

"No." Sadness slowed her movements as she carefully packed a garment into the trunk that lay open before her. "Annabel says they are the mark of a young woman trying to attract a man. As I am married now, I have no need for showy dress." She turned, smiling. "Would you like to see my new look?"

She held up a rather brown skirt against her waist. It reminded him of the row of leather bound ledgers stretching across one wall of his office.

He could not imagine her in it. Perhaps it would be a practical color for when she took her afternoon stroll.

"I can't picture you." He reached up to run his finger around the collar of her gown. He was pleased to note the way her breathing quickened. "Why don't you let me help you out of this so you can show me."

Though they spent a pleasant half an hour in a state of undress, eventually she began to try on her new wardrobe for his approval.

He did not know what to say. "They suit you well," he lied, knowing instinctively by the unsure way she stood before him in her new clothes that she did not feel completely comfortable in her matronly guise.

"Are you certain?" She gave him such a look of trust, he was afraid to answer. "Do you think if I added a few of my buttons I would spoil the effect?"

" Perhaps you would do better to consult Susannah or Annabel on whether ornamentation would be acceptable." He did not ask her why the new clothes were all in sober colors-gray, brown, navy, and maroon. He supposed it was inevitable. Juliet was no longer a young woman looking for a beau. She was a wife and must be responsible. Although she did not look more responsible in these clothes, just more miserable.

"I confess I miss your buttons." He still remembered what the duchess had told him. That if London society had known Juliet's buttons had become a family business, she would have been immediately ostracized. He wondered if he told his father the truth….? But no. Juliet was a wife, she was meant to further his business interests and take care of his home, not create her own business. That news would more likely worry his father than please him. Besides, he had arranged with her brother to import the buttons to Boston and New York, and he wanted to wait to surprise her, when he could show her how her family business interest was just about to make her brother a wealthy man.

"You will be there tonight? All night?"

"I promise." He shrugged away a pang of guilt at his double irresponsibility. He had promised to attend Annabel's dinner party with her tonight to give the new charity-minded Juliet an introduction. A woman completely transformed from the flirtatious and vibrant young woman he had married. Would Boston society more readily accept her? Perhaps. After all, he realized with a shock, she now closely resembled the woman he had thought to marry before he had had his life turned upside down in London. Lucy Matthews. He had not seen her since his return to Boston. He had not thought of her since the first time Miss Juliet Fenster had entered his life to complicate it most delightfully.