by Abby Ayles
“That should provide us entertainment for a day. What of the other weeks?” Juliana huffed, leaning her chin on her hand as she stared out of the window.
“It will be so dreary here. To think of all the others, having fun and dancing and walking about town. They shall all have new gowns too, and we shall miss the latest styles. By the time we come to the summer balls, we shall end up a laughing-stock for our old-fashioned looks.”
Mary giggled. “I think it will not be quite so bad as all that, Juliana,” she said.
Juliana sighed. It was just like Mary to not be upset about missing the Season. She was always happier in quiet company, and she had hardly danced at all last year. Juliana had been waiting for her to blossom, but she seemed stubbornly intent on not doing so.
“Don’t you wish we could at least go to meet some of the new gentlemen who might be on the scene?” Juliana asked.
“I will be happy to marry whomever my parents choose,” Mary said, dutiful and diffident as ever. “Or if a gentleman should happen to choose me himself, it will be fine enough. I don’t long for the drama and politics of courtship.”
“You only say that because you have not yet fallen in love,” Juliana protested. “You will change your mind once it happens. Then you will care very much about who you are permitted to marry.”
“Well, at any rate, it will not happen this spring,” Mary said. “If we are not at Bath, then we shall not meet anyone new.”
“I just wish I knew of a way to change his mind,” Juliana said. “Or at least to get us there. Even if we have to agree to other restrictions…”
“I see that your mind is at work,” Mary said, quite seriously. “I fear that I should be quite worried.”
Juliana responded only by giving her friend a wicked grin, causing them both to fall in laughter together.
Her mind was indeed at work. And it would not rest until it came up with a way for her to see Christopher again.
Chapter 3
“What else do I need with me?” Christopher wondered out loud, staring at his trunk as if the answer would magically come to him.
“Whatever else you haven’t yet got,” Jasper said lazily, not getting up from where he lay on his bed.
He was thumbing through a little printed magazine, the kind that told dashing tales of heroes on the battlefield and women who swooned at their rescue.
“I don’t know what I would do without your help,” Christopher said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“Any time you need me,” Jasper replied, flicking onto the next page.
Jasper’s lack of enthusiasm did nothing to dampen the excitement that Christopher felt.
He was a bundle of nerves, strange as it seemed even to him; it was not as though he had never met Juliana before, and yet here he was, with a whole swarm of butterflies making their home inside his stomach at the thought of seeing her.
He gnawed on his lip thoughtfully, and pulled out one of the jackets he had packed earlier to exchange it for another. Only his best, he had decided. It would not do for her to see him in his second-best jacket.
“Well, I think I have everything I need,” he said. “You’re ready, I assume?”
Jasper shrugged. “I’ll throw some things together in a while,” he said. “We’re not leaving for a couple of hours yet.”
Christopher shook his head. “But aren’t you excited? We don’t want to miss the coach.”
“We won’t,” Jasper said, turning another page of his magazine.
Christopher sighed and sat down on his cot, looking at his trunk again and trying to rack his brains for anything he may have forgotten to pick up. He ran through the events he was expecting in his mind to imagine what he would need.
His mouth twitched up into a smile at just the thought of dancing with Juliana.
It had been so long since he had had the chance to lead her in a dance. He remembered the first time they had met like it was yesterday…
Across the hall at Bath, he spotted a glimpse of yellow silk. A young lady dancing with a man, laughing with joy as she spun around in the center of the room.
Other couples made way for them as they passed through, but it was not the man that commanded the attention. If anything, he looked out of his depth.
His face was pale and strained as he strove to keep up with her. His occasional smile of joy was at his ability to make her laugh with happiness at the dance.
As they moved through the crowd, Christopher strained to catch another glimpse of her. He saw more flashes of that yellow silk, a fleeting sight of a beautiful face, hair moving with the steps of the dance.
Finally, the crowd parted in such a way that he had a full view of her. She turned in his direction as the dance dictated, and he was able to admire her in full for the first time.
She was shapely and small, the picture of a doll. Her hair hung long over her shoulders in artfully arranged curls.
The thing that Christopher noticed most of all, however, was the wide and free smile on her face. Above it, her eyes sparkled like twin stars.
In short, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
Not only that, but the most well-dressed, the happiest, the most enticing. She was like no one he had ever seen before.
At that moment, not fire or flood or earthquake could have dissuaded him from getting close to her and finding the chance to ask her name.
Christopher cut through the crowd, following her movements. He almost ran around the corners of the dance hall, brushing past those who stood to the side to converse. He had to be in the right place when the dance finished.
He had to be right in front of her.
The music came to a close and he stood, catching his breath, watching her laugh and curtsy to her partner. Then he rushed forward, but he was too late; another man stepped in and offered his hand.
Cursing his luck, Christopher followed them again. The minutes passed in agony as he attempted to keep up, trying to be as close to her as possible.
When the couple strayed into the center of the hall, he cursed and ran his fingers back over his hair and mentally begged the musicians not to stop yet.
He knew this was as clear a chance as any that he would have to meet her. She was dancing with an officer he knew, and that meant that the man would be able to offer an introduction. Without that, he would be waiting a good time longer to dance with her.
A beauty such as hers might not be allowed to rest all night, since every man in the place would wish to dance with her if he could.
At last, the music began to trail off as the young woman returned closer to the edge of the room. It was done, and there was applause and bowing all around, and Christopher took his chance.
“Captain Jeffords,” he said, catching the woman’s last dance partner. “Who is this young lady? Might you introduce us?”
Jeffords grimaced, unable to hold back his chagrin. Perhaps he did not want to introduce this peach to anyone else, in case she was stolen from him. However, he did it all the same.
“You have the pleasure of meeting Lady Juliana Reffern, third daughter of the Duchess of Prighton,” he said.
“My lady, this is Mr. Christopher Hardwicke, a young man of noble blood who has but recently joined our camp. He is set to be a Lieutenant once his training is done.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” Juliana said, smiling at him. “Are you an only child?”
Christopher shook his head, a flash of sadness running through him as it always did when he thought of his family. There was also a hint of shame, that he might not be able to proffer up a finer position that would be a fitting match.
“No, my lady. The Earl of Kelt is my brother. I was a second son, and our parents were lost to the sickness but a few months past.”
Her whole expression softened. “I am sorry to hear it,” she said. “I myself lost my father some years ago. I know how cruel such a loss can be.”
Awful though it was, they had some
thing in common. That was a lifeline, a thread of hope that Christopher clung to with all the strength of a dying man.
If they had something in common, they might be able to connect on a deeper level.
If they had something in common, he might be able to convince her to talk with him – to find other things that they shared. And if they had more things to share, perhaps their connection might begin to deepen to something more real.
Christopher gave her a sympathetic look, then deliberately brightened it to a smile. And how could he not smile in her presence?
“Might you do me the honor of this next dance? We may reminisce upon our shared sorrows.”
Juliana inclined her head. “I will dance with you,” she said. “But let us not talk of sorrow. It is a fine night, and young people such as we ought to be having fun.”
“You have the right of it,” Christopher agreed, leading her back into position.
She surprised him already. It was the same attitude which he himself might have shared, given the chance to express it. She was not held back by her sorrow nor defined by it. She was alive, and he had the sense that she knew what it was to live.
The dance was one in which couples formed a line facing one another, of which he was glad; it would give him more time to gaze upon her as they danced, and more time for conversation besides.
He wanted to drink in the image of her and follow it with information. Details that he could store up, things to connect the pair of them. He wanted to know everything about her.
“So, Mr. Hardwicke,” she said, with mock seriousness. “Are you stationed nearby?”
“No,” he admitted. “In fact, we are here on leave. The officers thought to bring some of us new recruits with them since they knew the season was underway.”
“Then you are here just for a short while?”
“It is so.”
They bowed and curtsied to one another as the music began, and walked through the graceful steps of the dance together.
“That is a shame. You shall not be able to call on me once you are returned to your barracks.”
“A shame indeed,” Christopher agreed. A heat had risen up his back at the idea of calling upon her. “Though I will still be in Bath tomorrow.”
“I will too,” Juliana informed him. “I am staying at the house of my aunt.”
“And where ought I find the home of this reputable lady?”
Juliana giggled only, as they turned around one another, resuming places on opposite sides of the line to which they had started.
It was maddening. Why would she not answer? Did she not realize that his very life depended upon it?
“At least you will give me a clue as to which one of these ladies here is your aunt,” Christopher suggested.
Juliana glanced over her shoulder. Christopher followed her gaze to a stout, stern-looking woman who was watching them closely.
“I do believe I have recognized her,” Christopher said gravely. “And she has recognized me.”
Juliana giggled again. “She is a formidable one,” she said. “You ought to be careful, Mr. Hardwicke.”
“So I shall, Lady Juliana,” he said, grinning impishly. “In fact, I always am.”
“That sounds rather dull,” Juliana said, giving him a mischievous look.
That was when he knew he was under her spell, and he would never break it, not as long as he lived…
“What’s so special about this trip, anyway?” Jasper asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He sighed carelessly as he finally began to pack his trunk. “You’re never this giddy usually. I’m worried I may have to fetch you a swooning couch.”
Christopher ignored his barb. Nothing could dissuade him from happiness at that moment.
“This trip, I know that Juliana is waiting for me,” he said. “She has given me hope that we might be betrothed by the time I return.”
“Her stepfather would allow it?” Jasper snorted.
Christopher hesitated. “Well, so she has given me to believe.”
Jasper laughed and shook his head. “You live in a dream world,” he said. “Why should he allow her to marry only a lieutenant? Even a viscount was not good enough for her last time.”
Crestfallen, Christopher had to agree with him. He made a good point. There was very little reason for him to appear an appropriate choice, particularly given Edmund’s impending child.
Before very long at all, he would be so far down the line of succession at Hardwicke Hall as to have no hope of a good inheritance whatsoever.
Not that he had ever expected it to be his; but he had at least thought to be married before his brother became the Earl. In point of fact, it should have still been his father who held the position. That would have been another situation entirely.
“I shall simply have to improve my commission,” Christopher declared. “Move up to Captain or Major. It’s the only way.”
“If a captaincy were to be available,” Jasper said, shaking his head. “You have as much hope there as of finding out that you have wings and can fly.”
“A little more, I think,” Christopher protested. “At least becoming a higher-ranked officer is within the physical realms of possibility. And I have the funding to buy my way in when it happens.”
“Possible, yet not probable.”
Christopher gazed down into his trunk in dismay. It was true – all of this could be in vain. How was he going to get past this wall that had risen in front of him?
With a certainty, he felt that he would not be able to do it alone. “Say you’ll help me,” he said suddenly, turning back to Jasper.
“Help you?”
“Yes, help me find a commission. Captain will do. It will. If I have that, I have enough hope that she will be mine. Just say you’ll help me.”
“I don’t see how I can,” Jasper said, shrugging his shoulders. “But, alright. If you can think of a way, I will lend my assistance.”
Christopher grinned, feeling hope once again. There had to be a way to find a commission, he just knew it – and with Jasper on his side, they would make it happen.
Caught up in his dreams and hopes, Christopher ignored that little knot of foreboding that briefly made its appearance in his stomach when Jasper agreed.
Chapter 4
“I shall never get to Bath at all,” Juliana said miserably, looking out of her window as the rain came down.
It was the only thing she had to look at these days. It was as if being kept away from the place she wanted to be made her only more acutely aware of how dreary it was to be inside all of the time.
There was nothing for it. She had wheedled and begged and tried everything to convince her stepfather to let her go.
She had even tried convincing her mother, who was not to be swayed either. Not even the mention of poor Mary being restricted from her usual visit was enough to turn their hearts.
Juliana had to resign herself to the fact that she was to be locked away forever, like a princess forgotten in her tower. And how was her prince to find her if he did not even know she was imprisoned?
There might not be a way to escape this tower, but she could still send a message to her prince.
Decisively, she took out a sheet of writing paper and a quill, and began to formulate a composition that would ensure he did not forget her over the season.
Dearest Lieutenant,
I am most heavy of heart as I write to you today. I am wasting away with missing you. It has been so long since we last met, and yet I fear it will be a long time still before we meet again.
I have had the cruelest of news. My stepfather will not allow me to come to Bath this spring. I had so looked forward to seeing you again, and to dancing with you. I still remember how you caught me quite off guard this time last year, with your charm and your flattering words!
I have longed to see you since I broke off my engagement with Lord Drevon, whose name I know you prefer I never mention again.
You have been the
only one in my heart these many months, even when I - under protest - agreed to his demands of marriage. I am so very happy that we may have the chance to meet again.
But I do not know when that will be. Or if it is going to be at all. How might I manage to wait out these dismal and dreary months? I wish I had been born a pauper, that I might choose for myself who I was to marry and when!
