A Gentleman for Judith (The Wednesday Club Book 1)

by Sahara Kelly

  “And the two disappearances are connected?” Maud tipped her head to one side in confusion.

  “Yes,” smiled Judith. “I believe before too long we’ll be seeing an announcement of either the engagement or the marriage of Miss Barrett-Goddings to Lord Rolfe.”

  Maud’s jaw dropped. “All right. You have completely knocked the wind out of me with that piece of news.”

  “Thank you,” Judith nodded. “Rolfe has been madly in love with Fiona since their first meeting. Rather romantic really.”

  “So they’ve eloped?”

  “That’s what I suggested,” confirmed Judith. “Since they were shackled by a lot of fuddy-duddy conventions. Why waste love when it’s yours for the taking? The Duke was, according to what Lord Rolfe told me, a bit of a cold fish. It was a marriage based on business, not passion. So I simply recommended a course of action.” She smiled happily. “I’m thrilled he took it. I think they’ll do very nicely.”

  “Well,” said Maud slumping. “That is excellent gossip indeed.”

  “It is, rather.” Satisfied, Judith finished her tea. “And now we have the last Wednesday Club event of this year.” She looked at Maud. “Will you continue next year?”

  “Yes, I believe we will,” answered Maud. “It’s made Laurie and I work a little harder, but I think we needed it. Both of us love seeing everyone enjoying themselves, and there is definitely a need for some entertainment aimed at those who cannot procure themselves vouchers for Almack’s. After all,” she smirked, “now I come to think of it, Fiona had a voucher. And look who she’s ended up with.”

  Judith burst out laughing. “So true. So very true.”

  “And now I must fly. Duties await me.”

  Judith’s laughter faded as she stood, realising that tonight might be the last time she saw Ragnor before the holiday season. He’d casually mentioned something about joining friends for Christmas, and she’d not heard anything else about his plans since that comment.

  Trying to fight down her emotions, she wondered if he would ask for her hand again. Or demand an answer. And if he did, what on earth should she say?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  R agnor stepped out of his carriage and looked up at Sydenham House.

  The lights were ablaze and the tiny flakes of snow that had just begun were sparkling like diamonds as they fluttered down past the doorway and the windows.

  In an odd, and uncharacteristic, moment of whimsy he had to blink away the impression of a magic castle. No unicorns or fairies would appear as silhouettes in the golden candlelight, but just for a few seconds it had seemed possible.

  He sighed. This had been an unusual year for him. And how it would end remained to be seen.

  He did not carry flowers, nor did he have any cleverly wrapped gifts secreted on his person. He had dressed with care, but he always did, so he considered himself unremarkable in the overall scheme of things.

  Walking into Sydenham House, however, and finding himself dazzled…well, that was considerably more remarkable. Lady Maud had outdone herself for this last event of the year.

  Everything glittered and sparkled, from the chandeliers which were wreathed with shiny silver ribbons, to the statues featuring swaths of brightly faceted tulle, to the urns of greenery topped with something that looked like jewel-dipped snow. He had to go and touch one, only to find it was a layer of finely carded wool sprinkled with sequins.

  “Sir?” Hobson glared at him. “Your cloak and hat?”

  “Oh, sorry. Of course.” He handed them over.

  “Kindly refrain from touching the ornamentation, sir. If everyone decided to do that, we wouldn’t have many left, now, would we?”

  Suitably chastised, Ragnor nodded. “Indeed. My apologies, Hobson.” He paused. “Will you be serving brandy this evening at any time?”

  “No sir.” Hobson stared him straight in the eye without a blink.

  “Hmm. Well, that’s all right then.”

  “I believe you’ll find Lady Maud and Sir Laurence at the entrance to the ballroom.”

  “Thank you,” said Ragnor, fighting the urge to bow. Sometimes, butlers had a great deal more presence than even the Prince Regent himself. Hobson was definitely one of those butlers and this was one of those times.

  He moved away on a sigh of relief and glanced up to the landing, in case anyone might be looking down into the hall, watching the guests.

  “Ho, Rag,” said a familiar voice. “Ready for the winter?”

  “Evening, Miles,” Ragnor turned a little. “You’ve not headed off to Linfield Lisle, then?”

  Miles shook his head. “Not yet. I might, and Mowbray’s headed there now.” His gaze took in the decorations. “Probably a good thing, since I can see at least a dozen fatal traps for my brother, and that’s just here in the hall. Can’t begin to imagine what kind of havoc he’d wreak in the ballroom.”

  “Good point.” Ragnor chuckled. “Nice lad though.”

  “He’s barely a year younger than me, you know.” Miles shrugged. “Damn brother makes me look old.”

  “Just mature,” consoled Ragnor.

  “Different word, same implication,” grumbled Miles. “Ah. More company,” and the grumble turned to a smile as Matthew walked up, behind Rose and Lydia.

  “Lovely to see you…” The usual greetings, curtseys and smiles were exchanged.

  “Miss Ivy not here?” asked Miles.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Lydia shook her head. “They’ve already left for Siddington Castle. Won’t be back until January, I believe.”

  “This really is the end of the social year, isn’t it?” Rose gazed around her. “We’re off at the weekend as well. I don’t mind leaving town, but this year has been…well, most entertaining, to say the least of it.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll wager that come January even more exciting events will entertain us, Miss Rose,” Miles predicted.

  “One can only hope,” sighed Rose. “But it will be difficult to top these last few weeks.”

  Ragnor, still hoping for a glimpse of Judith, merely nodded in acquiescence and led the way into the ballroom, where the small orchestra was already playing a light air to welcome the guests.

  Here again, it seemed as if some fairies had visited the ballroom and marked just about everything, from floor to ceiling. It was almost too much, but Ragnor had to respect Lady Maud’s visions, since her conception of a winter wonderland stopped short from being completely overwhelming.

  “It looks like winter vomited,” whispered Miles.

  “Shh,” said Ragnor, trying not to laugh, even though Miles’s assessment wasn’t far off target. The ribbons and tulle and sparkling wool themes were repeated here, with the addition of so many brilliant candles that it might well have given some fairy king’s winter palace a run for its money. The orchestra wore white, the dais was edged with white fur, and the host and hostess, both of whom were bearing down on them, wore matching white outfits.

  Ragnor blinked. “No crowns?” He spoke his thought out loud. “Er…”

  Sir Laurence grinned. “I nixed ‘em.”

  Maud shot him a speaking look. “We felt it might be a tad too much, but I’m glad you said that. It proves I’ve achieved the look I was hoping for.” She glanced around. “My winter Palace.”

  “We’re completely dazzled, my Lady. Everything is wonderful…” Lydia dropped a deep curtsey and rose with a huge grin on her face. “So glittery. I love it.”

  “As do I,” Rose added her curtsey and compliments.

  Matthew bowed. “I am in awe, my Lady. These poor male eyes are inadequate when it comes to absorbing such brilliance.

  Maud sighed. “Oh all right. I did go overboard. Just a little…”

  Matthew looked horrified. “No, Ma’am, no… I didn’t…”

  “Relax lad. She’s teasing you,” said Sir Laurence, taking pity on him.

  “I…er…”

  “My apologies, dear Matthew,
” Maud grinned. “I couldn’t resist. But you were so charmingly complimentary.”

  “Don’t ever do it again, lad.” Sir Laurence nodded in warning. “She’ll be on you like a dog on a bone.”

  “Laurie…”

  “Just the truth dear. Oh look. More guests.” Sir Laurence hurried her away.

  “I do adore those two,” said Rose wistfully. “They are a perfect couple.”

  “I doubt there’s any such thing,” said Miles, “but they do complement each other very well indeed.”

  Ragnor was about to say something, but he had turned—and in the doorway to the ballroom stood a vision.

  His words dried up and his breath left his lungs on a whoosh.

  Judith was here.

  *~~*~~*

  I should never have worn this dress.

  Self-consciously smoothing her velvet skirts, Judith tried to look like she was her usual self. Which she most definitely wasn’t. Besides the fact that she was standing in the Grand Hall of a Snow Palace, thanks to Lady Maud’s genius with decorations, she was also wearing a gown of the richest green velvet, edged in fur.

  It was more mediaeval in style than the usual fashion, it threw her neck and shoulders into prominence, and she’d drawn her hair up high, securing it with a bunch of ribbons that were silver and green mixed together.

  She felt different, taller somehow, and with an odd kind of confidence that came with being just a little out of the ordinary. That confidence was rapidly leaching away as she watched the guests sparkle beneath the brilliant chandeliers.

  A dance was starting, figures forming in preparation for the moves.

  Stepping to one side she began a slow progress around the edge of the room, stopping short when a tall figure headed toward her from the other direction.

  “Judith,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Sir Ragnor,” she breathed. “I wondered if you’d arrived.”

  They stared at each other for a few long moments, until a servant accidently nudged Judith’s elbow and recalled her to her surroundings. “You are well, sir?”

  He gazed at her. “No. I’m not well at all.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she frowned. “A touch of the ague? I’ve heard it’s going around.”

  He shook his head. “A touch of the Fairhurst.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I have a bad case of Judith Fairhurst,” said Ragnor, his face expressionless. “I believe you may have the cure.”

  “I…” she was at a loss for words. Was he teasing her? She couldn’t tell. “If I do, then I shall do everything I can sir, but you must be more precise about this affliction.”

  “I intend to.” He took her arm. “Come with me.”

  In an instant he whisked her out of the ballroom and down the corridor to the anteroom where she had sat and shared secrets with him, Matthew and Lydia what seemed like months before. So much had happened since then, she could scarce believe it. She walked inside and turned to see him closing the door and snapping the lock.

  “Now, Miss Judith Fairhurst.” Ragnor walked toward her.

  She backed away.

  “Are you frightened of me?” He frowned, stopping.

  She raised a hand to her bosom. “Not of you, no.” She took a breath. “I cannot prevaricate, sir. I am more afraid of the emotions you incite within me.”

  “They frighten you?” He tilted his head on one side. “I am astounded. You never told me about any such fears.”

  She blushed, remembering how brazen she’d been with this man.

  “You just said you would be honest, Judith. Please do…”

  Lifting her chin, she faced him. “I never realised how falling in love made one vulnerable. That loving exposes a person to not only wondrous joy, but also to the deepest agony and the darkest fears. It’s…it’s that enlightenment that I find frightening.”

  “So I am to understand that you are afraid of how you feel around me?”

  “After a fashion, yes.” She swallowed.

  He took more steps toward her, ending close enough to lift her chin with his hand. “And when I touch you? Are you still afraid?”

  His eyes were fixed on hers, blue-grey depths revealing little, gleaming in the light of the few candles. Lady Maud’s decorating fairies hadn’t penetrated this far into Sydenham House.

  She shook her head a little, feeling the heat of his hand against her skin. “I’m never afraid when you touch me, Ragnor. Only that you’ll let me go.” She whispered, but she knew he’d heard every word.

  His free arm slid around her waist and he tipped her face upward. “I’ll never let you go. I can’t…”

  He kissed her then, tenderly at first, then more passionately, seeking entrance to her mouth which she gladly gave. Their tongues duelled, their bodies closed tightly against each other, and Judith became aware of her moans as the soft sounds broke free of her throat.

  He slid his mouth down the side of her neck, sending shivers over the rest of her. “Ragnor,” she sighed.

  “I know,” he muttered, his head dipping low onto her chest.

  She pulled back a little, desperately trying to retain what little control she had left. “Ragnor…please…”

  “Please what?” His voice was thick. “Anything. Whatever you want…”

  She put her hands either side of his head and pushed him back. “I love you. I cannot deny that. And it terrifies me.”

  He sighed, his eyes closing for a few long moments.

  Judith’s heart stopped beating. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t return her feelings. They had no future at all if that were true. She wouldn’t risk her heart by marrying a man who couldn’t love her in return. She wanted more than a bloodless union of convenience and occasional lovemaking.

  “I’m scared too, Judith. You know the truth of my parents’ marriage. It…it soured me on the idea of marrying for reasons of the heart. My mother did. I could see it. And I could see her losing a tiny piece of herself every time m’father left the house. And didn’t return until the next day.” He looked away. “It was agony to see her pain.”

  Judith sighed. “I can only begin to imagine what that must have been like.” She forced his head back and made him look at her. “I’m not your mother, Ragnor, and you’re not your father. I would fight for you because that’s how I am.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sure your Mama was a wonderful woman, but did you ever suggest she get angry with your Papa? Yell at him? Throw things? Or kick him out of the house and deny him entrance until he realised he wasn’t as free as he thought? Did she do any of those things?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “I would.” Judith’s grip firmed. “If you stayed out all night, I’d be beside you every minute, or waiting up and demanding an explanation. If I didn’t get a satisfactory one, you’d find the door barred if you tried that again.”

  He stared, almost as if he was afraid to believe her. “You’d fight?”

  “Like a madwoman. That’s who I am, Ragnor. Life has taught me a few things about myself so far. Not a lot, I know, but enough for me to gauge my own responses. I’ve learned what it is to have a mother shunned because of what she did, not who she was. I’ve learned that losing both parents is the harbinger of the kind of loneliness I cannot begin to describe. I’ve learned that being taken in out of charity by a relative who cares little about one’s welfare…well, that’s beyond hurtful. However, I’ve also learned that there are wonderful people who aren’t like that, and you’re standing in the house belonging to two of them. I’ve seen marriages without love, and now I see what marriage with love can be.” She shook his head. “That’s what I want, Ragnor. I won’t settle for less. I love you with everything I am. If you can say the same, ask me that question again. If you can’t, then go.”

  Silence fell as the echo of her speech rang in her ears.

  She still had his face between her
hands, but her grip gentled. If he wished to leave, she wouldn’t hold him back.

  His eyes were on her face, and she thought they were softening, but perhaps it was the flickering of the candles. His gaze drifted to her lips and both his hands grasped her waist.

  “I can’t leave you, Judith. To do so would be to rip myself in half, since you filled the emptiness I didn’t even know was there. I’m still not sure, but if this is love, then I love you. What I can say for certain is that I can’t and won’t leave you. Ever. Because…I wouldn’t have anything to live for without you.”

  She didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath until it came out on a huge gasp. “You do love me, Ragnor. You do. That’s exactly what love should be…”

  Her glad cry slashed through the silence and she released his face, putting her arms around his neck and hugging him so tightly she could barely breathe.

  “So that’s a yes?” He eased away a little and grinned. “Do you, Miss Judith Fairhurst, accept my unworthy hand in marriage?”

  She grinned back. “I do.”

  After a few moments that were suitably filled with various murmured endearments and more than a few kisses, Judith blinked. “God. The ball. They must have noticed our absence. We should return, Ragnor. Time to sort everything out later.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Now we have time, my sweet. I feel as if a weight has drifted off my shoulders.”

  “I’m not that heavy,” she giggled.

  Hand in hand they walked to the door, and Ragnor unlocked it, throwing it wide—and looking straight into a sea of faces.

  Sir Laurence, Lady Maud, Matthew, Lydia, Miles and Rose all stood in a huddle, clearly having been listening at the door.

  Ragnor laughed, an unexpectedly joyous sound that brought everyone up short. He raised Judith’s hand.

  “She said yes.”

  The resultant cheer rattled the rafters in Sydenham House, and every tiny sequin shivered and sparkled in joy.

  Epilogue

  “G iles is coming, then?” Lady Maud looked at Judith across the breakfast table.