by Abby Ayles
Far too soon, as far as Juliana was concerned.
She managed to keep up a respectable veneer as she embraced her mother and stepfather goodbye, as well as Aunt Bertha. Flashes of anger towards all of them were not enough to break her from her melancholy.
It was their fault she was to suffer through this, and yet she somehow could not muster the energy for rage. This was how it was to be, she supposed, for someone who was not yet married and yet of marriageable age.
They were seated in the carriage and set off on their journey in such a flurry that Juliana barely had the opportunity to take it all in. She soon discovered herself sitting neatly alongside Mary, with cousin John opposite her and the Baroness on his side.
“We’ll have some opportunities for merrymaking,” John was saying, a small twinkle in his eye as he looked between both of the girls.
“How so?” Mary asked, with a polite tone.
“Our neighbors are holding a ball,” he announced.
Had he sensed Juliana’s discomfort and sought to soften the blow? Whatever the cause of his news coming at that moment, she was glad of it.
“We do get up to a bit of fun out in the countryside from time to time!”
“A ball?” Juliana repeated, looking up. Maybe this would not be such a horrible visit from end to end, after all. There was, at least, to be one thing to look forward to.
“I will let them know of your attendance as soon as we return,” John said happily. “Mother does not like to attend these occasions – isn’t that right, Mother? But I have a married sister who will easily be called upon to chaperone you.”
Juliana even managed a smile. “That would be most delightful,” she said, and this time she actually meant it.
An evening without the Baroness! What joy – she would have gone to stand in a pig farm for the whole night if she could be promised such a reprieve. The dancing would only be a bonus.
The others continued talking amongst themselves, but Juliana’s thoughts were elsewhere.
They had trailed away to the last time she had seen Christopher at a ball – no, not the last. That had been the moment when she had entered the room on the arm of her poor dreary Lord Drevon, and Christopher’s face had fallen in like a poorly-baked cake.
No, the time before that had been the best. She remembered seeing him across the room, sparks flying over her skin as he took hold of her glove and led her out to dance…
“Have you missed my company, sir?” Juliana had asked him, giving him a coy look as they joined the other couples.
“How ever could you tell?” Christopher asked. “Except, of course, for the fact that my heart is heavy every moment that I am apart from you.”
“I could tell because you made no attempt to play a game,” Juliana laughed impishly. “Normally there is some childish impulse in you to make me wait. This night, you came right to me as soon as you entered.”
Christopher had the good grace to look a little abashed, yet only a little. “Am I to be scolded for holding you in high regard?” he asked, in mock hurt. “Am I to be berated for such warm affections that cannot be held from rushing to your side?”
“Quite the contrary,” Juliana said, dipping elegantly as the music stirred and bade her to move. “I am praising you for it. What I criticize, Lieutenant, is your previous error in judgment in forcing me to wait for your approach.”
“We are introduced,” Christopher pointed out, passing behind her and moving to the other side. “You could approach me at any time you wish.”
“And yet I am a Lady,” Juliana answered. “And I do not approach, but am approached. As I’m sure you well know. In point of fact, a great many young gentlemen seem to have the inclination to approach me on nights much like these.”
“Is that a warning, Juliana?” Christopher murmured into her ear as he passed. The use of her Christian name, normally reserved for when they could be sure that no one else could hear, sent a shiver down her spine and a flush of heat into her cheeks.
“It is,” she answered, keeping her voice as light and straight as she could so as not to betray the effect he had on her. “If you continue to make me wait, perhaps another will swoop in and sweep me away first.”
“I will not allow it,” Christopher said fiercely, passing around behind her again. He was gone that direction so many times in this dance that Juliana found herself feeling dizzy with the attempt to keep her eyes on him.
“There is only one way to prevent it,” Juliana reminded him.
“Then I shall be the first on your dance card at any social function from here unto eternity,” he said. “If I am not there, well, you shall have to make do. But if I am there, I shall have your first. And your last, my lady.”
“My first and my last,” Juliana murmured, then laughed, loving the way the sound brought a smile to his face. “There is some poetry in it.”
“Do not laugh at my poetry,” Christopher pretended to sulk. “If you do, I shall be too ashamed to tell you my lines about the stars in your hair and the moonlight in your eyes.”
“What a dreadful thing it would be to miss those,” Juliana said, biting her lip to keep from laughing out again. “You are wicked, Lieutenant. Thoroughly so.”
“Perhaps one day,” Christopher said, lowering his voice again so that only she would hear, “things between us will be properly sanctioned, and then you will be free to find out exactly how wicked I really am.”
Juliana was pleased that the music was done, for she was able to curtsey and avoid Christopher’s gaze as he bowed.
That was enough time for the sweetly-won blush to fade from her cheeks a little, enough that she might pass it off as exertion from the dance.
She made to walk away, but Christopher put up a hand to stop her.
“Where do you think you are going, Lady Juliana?” he asked.
“To return to my chaperone,” Juliana said, raising an eyebrow. “The dance is done.”
“And another begins,” Christopher said, self-satisfied. “Another which you will dance with me, my lady.”
“As you wish,” Juliana said, hiding a smile. “Though you can’t take all of my dances. People will talk.”
“Let them talk,” Christopher said, flashing her that smile that always made her a little weak at the knees. “Though you are right, I can’t take them the whole night long. At some stage, I will need to pause and rest, and imbibe some refreshment.”
“I took you for a military man, Lieutenant,” Juliana teased. “You mean to tell me you have no stamina?”
“I have stamina,” Christopher replied, his dark eyes sparkling at her. “I had thought to rest your feet, my lady.”
“Think not of my feet,” Juliana said, grinning as she launched into the steps of the new dance – a much more energetic number. “I fancy they will last longer than yours.”
It was a challenge that Christopher took in seriousness, but he was, at last, unable to meet it.
He had retired ruefully, promising to fetch her a drink at the same time, and that was when she had paused to return to her chaperone – at that particular night, her mother.
“Ah, there you are, Juliana,” the Duchess said, though Juliana had not a shred of doubt that she had known where her daughter was at any moment. “I’d like to introduce a lord who is visiting up this way from the south. He’s keen to seek your next dance.”
And the introductions had been made, and her mother had made it clear that this was the man she was to marry. And Lord Drevon had whisked her around the next dance, and the deal had been settled…
Juliana broke from her reverie to look across the opposite side of the carriage at cousin John. He was not the man for her – she knew that. They would be desperately unhappy together. He was so dull, and she would annoy or worry him to no end. That much was inevitable.
Last time, she had bowed to parental pressure. It had nearly cost her Christopher. This time, she vowed to herself she would not.
Though it might
cost her social standing and grace, and even reputation, there was nothing for it. She would marry Christopher – John Woode be damned. She almost wanted to gasp at her own use of language, even inside her own head! But she meant it, every word.
She knew right there and then that she was not going to marry the man of her mother’s choice – no matter what it cost her.
Chapter 18
Christopher finally caught up with Jasper just as he was entering their shared quarters. Just as well – for it might be better, he mused, that no one else were around to hear what came next.
“Jasper,” he said, his voice coming out choked. “What business had you with the Major?”
Jasper said nothing, but nonchalantly walked over to his cot, unbuttoning his dress coat now that the need for formality was over.
“Jasper?” Christopher croaked again.
He was afraid that he knew the answer. Still, he needed to hear it. He needed to hear all of it. If he didn’t hear it said out loud from the man himself, he was afraid that he would never believe it.
He would never believe that he could have been such a fool.
“Shouldn’t you close the door?” Jasper suggested coolly. “I’m sure you do not wish for any passing busybody to hear the contents of our conversation.”
Christopher wanted to argue with him out of nothing but contrariness, but the man was right. If what he suspected was true, then he did not wish anyone else to be a party to it.
He did not want anyone to witness what a damned fool he had been.
“I’m sure you can guess,” Jasper said, turning around to show him the front of his uniform.
There was the insignia of a Captain on his shoulder now.
“You took it for yourself,” Christopher said, despite an urgency to breathe and a seeming inability to do so.
“Yes,” Jasper said. “I was just finalizing everything with the Major. Jolly good luck, as he put it, that a commission became available at such short notice.”
“I can’t believe you,” Christopher gasped, still feeling as though the whole room had been sucked dry of all oxygen.
“Well, don’t worry about it all,” Jasper said, waving a hand. “There won’t be any awkwardness. After all, I’m to move to new quarters tomorrow. It won’t do for a Captain to share with a Lieutenant, as I’m sure you will understand. And you’ll have a new friend to room with before long.”
“How did you even…?” Christopher shook his head. There were too many questions circling around in his mind, too many things to ask. “How did you pay for it?”
Jasper smirked. “That was the easiest part of the whole scheme,” he said. “You recall that little flash of scandal we had in Bath? With the young lady who accompanied me on what I believe is known as a midnight flit?”
Christopher scowled at him. Jasper knew well what they were called. He had been accused of them on enough occasions.
“Well, anyway,” Jasper continued, unperturbed, as he began packing away his possessions into his trunk. “There was some thought that I ought to be married in order to avoid scandal. The father suggested he was not happy about allowing his daughter to be married to a mere lieutenant. After that, I let him know that the matter could be fixed imminently.”
“So he lent you the money?” Christopher asked. He sank down onto his cot, watching as Jasper packed everything away.
“He gave me the money,” Jasper smirked.
“And will you marry her?”
Jasper laughed out loud. It was not a pleasant sound. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m a young man still. I have plenty of time to sow my wild oats yet. No point getting burdened down with a wife.”
“What if they shame you publicly?”
“Why would they do that?” Jasper snorted. “They’ll only shame the girl in the process. They should have kept a better eye on her. Then they might not be in this kind of mess.”
“You put them in this mess,” Christopher said wearily. “It isn’t their fault at all. You told the poor girl you loved her and that you had to run away together.”
“And she believed me,” Jasper said. He paused and sighed, a happy, contented kind of sigh. “Ah, these girls. They’re kept locked up in big houses for their whole lives and they just go helpless at the sight of a soldier. Don’t you just love how the world works?”
“No,” Christopher said, quietly. “I don’t.”
“More fool you,” Jasper retorted, moving back into action.
He did not have many things, and they were all packed away into the trunk now. He made a quick sweep of the room one final time, even checking underneath the cot, and then nodded with satisfaction.
“So you’re just going, then? Just like that?” Christopher asked.
“Just like that,” Jasper said. “It’s been fun, Christopher. Especially that part with your sister. Such a shame your brother caught us before I was able to sample the fruit. Still, it was fun enough. I’m sure I’ll see you around – after all, I’m your commanding officer now.”
Jasper picked up his trunk, and headed for the door. It closed behind him with a dull thud that did not even make Christopher flinch.
He sat still, simply staring at the spot where Jasper had been. At where he had stood only a moment before, laying everything out. All of it.
How had Christopher been so blind? He looked back now, and the scales were falling from his eyes.
He remembered all of the times when Jasper had been up to no good – sneaking away with ladies who should have been chaperoned, getting far too drunk and becoming a nuisance, and causing fights.
All those times, Christopher’s reputation had suffered just for the fact of being friends with him. Jasper, who had a poor reputation in the first place and was not even born a gentleman, did not suffer at all.
He remembered breakages, things that were knocked over in fights and had to be paid for. Apologies that had to be made.
All paid off by Christopher. All sorrowful words delivered by Christopher. No effort or payment on Jasper’s part.
He remembered the trouble that Jasper had caused, and how he had convinced Patience – Christopher’s sister – to run away with him. How she had been almost ruined. The rage and fury their elder brother Edmund had unleashed on him.
If anything, that last barb should have made Christopher want to jump up and hit Jasper on the nose. But he was right about being his superior officer now – and such behavior was not tolerated.
Besides which, Christopher felt as though he would never move another inch again. His feet were sunk into the floor like stones, his body as sewn together as the trunk of a tree, solid and unmoving.
He should have hit Jasper on the nose. Not just now. He should have done it all those months ago. When Patience’s honor and virtue were at stake – that was when he should have hit him on the nose. He should have dueled him and settled it right there and then.
But Christopher had simply let it go by, just as he had with every other bit of mischief that Jasper caused. He had let it go by because they were friends.
But they were never friends.
That was as clear as day to him now. Whatever they might have been, they were not friends. Jasper had seen him as a bank, an easy target, someone who would go along with his schemes and not challenge him.
Christopher had been duped – taken in by Jasper’s charm, just as easily as all of those girls. The only difference between them was that they had expected marriage, while he had expected loyalty.
On the surface of it, it was plain enough to see now that he had been the one who was most foolish, for what he expected came at the far greater price.
A price that Jasper, apparently, would never have been willing to pay. There was only one person who Jasper was loyal to – and that was his own self.
And there was one more complication to all of this: the fact that Juliana, now, would have to wait longer than expected for her man to become a Captain. A very fine wrinkle indeed which was going
to cause him no end of trouble.
Christopher sighed, sitting on his cot, and finally buried his head in his hands as he leaned to put his elbows on his knees.
How could he have been so stupid, not to have seen the very thing that was in front of his eyes for all of this time?
Chapter 19
The journey had been seemingly interminably long. Juliana began to lose all concept of time, and was bored beyond any remaining sensation. The same could be said of her body, which had long ago gone numb from sitting in the same place for such long hours.
