“Do you know the captain, Dorset?” she queried.
Jonas brought his assiduity back to the Countess with a start. How long had he been staring at the pair across the room? “I have just made his acquaintance today, my lady.”
Lady Ashford looked from Juliet to the Duke and raised a single brow as his gaze traveled back to Juliet and the captain. “I have just met him as well. Evidently he serves with Marcus. They have been on the continent all this time, and most recently he performed some sort of rescue or service of some nature for my nephew. The family has taken him in as one of their own.” She paused to consider her next words, her eyes narrowing to focus on the Duke's face to gauge his reaction. “Juliet especially seems quite appreciative of whatever that act entailed. I am sure I will hear the details at some point, but it is obvious that he and Juliet have found topics enough to keep them in a comfortable coze.”
The Countess watched Jonas' eyes flash icily and his mouth tighten almost imperceptibly. The signs were small but they were there. The Duke was forming an attachment to Juliet. After observing her niece, she was fairly sure this regard was not one-sided. She was going to enjoy her part in helping to promote this connection on both sides.
Jonas brought his attention back to the Countess in time to see a look of subtle reckoning before she schooled her features. “They do seem comfortable in each other's company. It is no difficulty to converse with Lady Juliet. She has a manner that puts one at ease.”
“And she is not so hard to look on, either,” joked the Countess. “Most men are willing to converse with a female when she looks like Juliet.”
Jonas snapped his attention back fully on his partner. “True, but she is much more than just a beautiful face. She is very intelligent and has a quick wit. Her silvery eyes sparkle and come alive when she finds a topic about which she is passionate. She even speaks four languages. What man would not care to converse --” Jonas realized Lady Juliet's aunt was studying him with deliberation now, listening to his avid defense and description of her niece. He prayed he had not revealed too much with his unguarded speech. “converse with her,” he finished belatedly.
The Countess smiled knowingly but did not pursue his words to her advantage. She patted Jonas lightly on the arm with her fan. “So tell me of the party plans for tomorrow. Will I be entertained?” They continued to talk, as did the rest of the groups around the room, until such time as some began making for their beds. The evening wound down as it had begun, with much good humor and resolve to meet likewise again on the morrow.
Chapter Twenty
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2
Lady Juliet made her way downstairs the next morning, following the enticing smells to the dining room. She joined her parents and brothers around one end of the large the table.
“This is just like breaking our fast at home, is it not?” she voiced the question to her mother. Lady Lansdowne glanced around their end of the table and smiled. Her sons, both six and twenty, both possessing the dark hair and gray eyes so indicative of the Quinn Family, yet their faces were their own. Although the twins were thought identical at birth, their facial characteristics had changed as they aged. Charles, the elder, had a wider smile and dimples. Marcus had a harder countenance and a cleft in his chin, and looked every inch the military officer.
“It is, although perhaps we have not done so for some years, save at Christmas or Easter, when all our flock gathers home under our roof.” She reached over and placed her hand on the Marquis. “It is good to be all together, and safe.”
“I confess it is a strange sight not to see the old Duke heading this party. I can't say I'm used to Jonas being the head of his family yet. These past two years have made him so serious and stodgy, nothing like the carefree Jonas.” Her brother, Charles, the elder of the twins and thereby Earl of Bristol, voiced his opinion between bites of shirred eggs. “It's not been too many years since Oxford, when we all lived like we hadn't a care in the world.”
“That's because you did not have any cares,” offered his younger-by-minutes brother Marcus. “You still play at being an adult, Charles. Witness what happens when real life is suddenly thrust on you. Jonas was prepared; his father saw to that. Our Father has tried to impress the same on you but be thankful you are not required to step up in the same manner as our friend,” he chastised. “Still, to be the head of your family, responsible for the care of your mother and the successful marriage of your sister, manager of four estates, and seated in the House of Lords – I do not envy him at all.”
Juliet listened to the exchange with interest and opinion. “He seems to take his responsibilities quite seriously, even organizing this party specifically to help marry off Miranda, not that I approve of that in the least.” She paused to cast a glare at her older brother. “Still, he seems to be the most serious member of the LOO now, and more likely a better influence on you all as a result.”
“I really wish you would not refer to your brother and his friends by that silly title, Juliet. It gives them all an air of irresponsibility, of too much revelry.” Her mother sniffed her disapproval of the sobriquet.
“I only refer to them as such because they are too full of revelry – and devilry and debauchery. They earned that title, mama. It was not bestowed out of generosity but out of necessity. And by Lady Miranda, no less. I have found that most gentlemen think we ladies are unaware of male activities and pursuits, and the resultant reputations, but we know.”
Bristol broke off a piece of almond scone and threw it at her, causing Juliet to block the throw with her hand and stick out her tongue in retaliation. At the raised eyebrows of the footman, Juliet smiled smugly and pointed her fork at the food projectile now sitting in the middle of the table. “I rest my case with the evidence of the schoolroom behavior of my 'older and wiser' brother.”
Their good-natured argument ended as more guests arrived for breakfast. The young Duke of the earlier conversation entered as well, taking his customary place at the head of the table after piling his plate with his breakfast choices. “I trust everyone slept well,” he offered. A general affirmative consensus was shared around the table as quiet conversation broke out in clusters among seat neighbors. The Duke himself raised his paper and read as he ate, his usual morning routine.
Juliet's aunt, Countess Ashford, swept into the room on the arms of Viscount Melville and Mr. Burke, her silver hair still thick and piled magnificently high on her head. Somehow the grande dame managed to wear an expression that was both haughty and playful as the gentlemen seated her, one leaving to fetch her a plate of food, the other her cup of tea. Miranda and her mother soon followed, with the remainder of the guests trickling in at their leisure.
“So, tell me, Dorset, what are your plans for the remainder of this house party? What is to be the plan of action?” The Countess minced no words in her effort to discover any agendas in which she might participate. The Duke dropped his paper and smiled at the Countess.
“Today I believe my mother has arranged lawn games and refreshments on the rear terrace. As for the remainder, I have no nefarious plans, nor truly any agenda to fulfill. It was becoming too hot to stay in Town, and my family and friends simply needed a change in scenery for the summer.”
“Your Grace, I have known you since you were in short coats. I seem to recall how you helped to stow several large bull frogs in my barouche. They made their presence known about half way between the Channel and London in a most ill-mannered way, I must say. There is nothing quite like angry bull frogs, I have come to realize, for angry they were. Opening the trunk under my carriage seat unleashed a torrent of hateful amphibians and their noxious fumes. Each time I have seen you since, you have always led or participated in a battle plan of some sort. It was a bit too early in the Season to remove from Town, so I ask you again, what is the purpose of this house party? I know you detest most social functions, so I do not beli
eve you do this out of the kindness of your heart, Jonas.”
The Duke laughed but before he could respond Miranda jumped into the conversation. “Oh, his grand scheme is to rid himself of the burden of his soon-to-be-a-spinster sister.” The smile on her brother's face dissolved into a look of unmasked irritation. “Don't look at me like that, Jonas. You know 'tis the only reason you would put yourself through the paces of being a party host.”
The Countess observed the looks exchanged by the contentious siblings and decided to change the topic of conversation to prevent a most distasteful, if not wholly entertaining, public family fight. “Well I would suggest you do not ask my dear niece about her views on marriage unless you have all morning to devote to the discussion.”
Several pairs of brows rose quizzically around the room at this revelation, and Miranda pounced on the topic. She was not eager to bring up the subject of her possible marriage but delighted in watching the reaction Juliet's views always elicited. “Oh, yes! Juliet, do tell us when you plan to marry.”
Juliet looked from the Duke to her aunt to her parents and smiled sheepishly, preferring to avoid this vein of the discussion if at all possible. She swallowed the suddenly desert-dry bite of toast she had been chewing and took a sip of tea. “I daresay no one here has any desire to hear my views. They are far from interesting.”
Viscount Melville would not let this comment slide, his eyes positively glowing with avaricious desire to obtain any key to winning the lovely and wealthy hand of Lady Juliet. “I, for one, would be very interested in hearing whatever you would like to say about matrimony.”
“You might think so,” murmured Miranda sarcastically with a smirk thrown to Juliet.
“I must agree with my daughter. She has nothing to add to any discourse on this subject.” The Marchioness looked around the table nervously, silently praying this topic would lose the interest of the group. The Viscount was not to be deterred.
“I still find myself very much intrigued and wishing to know the answer to Lady Miranda's question. So, Lady Juliet, when do you plan to wed?”
With an apologetic look to her parents, Juliet replied, “Never, my lord.” She looked down at her plate and pushed her fork delicately into a bite of ham. Bringing the morsel to her mouth she chewed and looked over the heads of those sitting nearest her, refusing to meet anyone's eyes in an attempt to avoid further questions. The Viscount visibly started at her brief reply, shock warring with a look of crushed hopes plastered clearly across his face. He blurted out a response before he could check himself or school his features.
“Never? A girl of your standing and beauty never to marry? Why ever not?” Melville looked meaningfully around the table to see if others were reacting as he. The ladies and gentlemen seemed equally dumbfounded that a lady had no desire to fulfill what was essentially her sole purpose, to marry, and to do so as well as was possible. Juliet's parents looked mortified while her brothers looked smugly satisfied that they would not have to ferret out the intentions of any future beaus.
“My lord, you partially answer your own question for me. I am fortunate to be the daughter of a marquis of good standing, and even more blessed to be the daughter of a loving father. As such, I do not have the need to marry for future security. Indeed, I will have my own property in a few years, with a stable income. After two seasons, I now find myself quite content to swear off matrimony and look forward to being an eccentric spinster and entertaining aunt to my future nieces and nephews.” Juliet spoke quietly but firmly, still glancing around the room rather than engaging any particular person with eye contact. She laid her fork down and returned to sipping her tea.
“But what of your duty to your family name, to marry well and bring joy to your parents in a good match?” The hope to have been the other half of that match was now clearly written on the Viscount's crestfallen face.
“Would you wish me to go into trade, my lord, for that is exactly what a business arrangement of a marriage would be to me.” She paused to look at the Viscount's face and quickly swept her gaze across the rapt faces of the attendees. “No, I can see the thought of being a tradesman is abhorrent to this gathering. It is funny how we so look down on the merchant class from our lofty heights in the peerage but the marriages all around us are nothing more than engagements in commerce. We swap currency for titles, positions for heirs – just think of marriage settlements, for one! As for myself, I can speak with confidence when I say the family name will be well carried to future generations by my two brothers. The daughters are of little consequence to a family unless they be a financial burden or the only offspring. I am neither.”
Melville opened and shut his mouth several times, his thin face looking remarkably like a fish. Juliet could not let the conversation end with the focus on her, so she saucily added a closing.
“I fancy myself quite the astute observer of Society and have noticed a marked difference between those couples who married by choice or by desire and those who merged as if engaged in mercantilism. But my windy sermon does not signify.” She stopped as if to take inventory of the gathering and addressed all the men in the room as one. “Look around the room, my lords and gentlemen. It is nearly bursting with gentlewomen of various colors of hair and eyes, all fair-skinned and demure and all that is proper. There is no gathering of such concentrated beauty of both features and talent as what is assembled here at Edgecliff. Take advantage of it, dear sirs. It is, after all, a party. Now, pray excuse me.” She set her teacup back in its saucer, dabbed daintily the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and rose from her chair. She left the room in a swish of skirts and confidence, not stopping until she climbed the stairs and reached her chamber.
The Duke had watched the exchange and Juliet's departure with a mixture of admiration and disappointment. He admired her liveliness of spirit and mind, her wicked sense of humor, her obvious beauty, and unassuming talent and intelligence. He was surprised to find himself disappointed that she had sworn off marriage, although he was not yet willing to identify the reason for this. He was honest enough with himself to realize he was happy that the gentlemen of the party were being encouraged to give up any plans of pursuit they may have been fomenting, although not for the altruistic reasons that more suitors were free for his sister. He did not realize a small smile of satisfaction was curling the corners of his mouth.
The Countess observed the reactions of those around the table and was quite pleased to watch the Duke. She could tell her niece held some interest for him and she resolved to foster that interest wholeheartedly. She now needed to ascertain the feelings of Juliet toward the brother of her best friend.
Chapter Twenty-One
When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won.
William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 1
There was a misty fog struggling desperately to keep its grip on the trees in the early light the following morning. Miranda and Juliet met at the top of the stairs outside the front entrance and walked quietly together to the stables. Their mares were saddled for their ride and they thanked the groom for his help, making sure to tell him they were headed for a leisurely ride on the beach. Juliet noticed that the Duke's horse was missing from his stall, which was a good sign. The ladies made use of the mounting block and trotted toward the path to the sea until they were out of sight of the stables. They immediately circled back and away from the cliffs of the beach, following the treeline to the pond located near the back pasture. Coming up on another copse of trees, Juliet stopped her horse to wait in hiding, concealed from possible view, while Miranda softly walked her horse nearer to the pond. Securing her mount to a branch a fair distance from the water, Miranda stealthily crept through the trees that shielded the pond from view.
As she approached, she saw her brother using long strokes to cross the pond. His horse, Paladin, lazily grazed near his master's pile of clothes. Seizing her opportunity, she quietly
scooped up the garments and ran back to her mare and the coverage of the trees, chuckling silently that she left him only his tall boots. Familiarity with the land lent speed to her strides and she remounted her horse with ease. Trotting through the trees as swiftly as possible, she rejoined Juliet and together they broke for the rear of the house. Miranda dismounted at the entrance to the kitchen and took the servant stairs up to her chamber, stuffing the pile of clothing under her bed. She rejoined Juliet and they nudged their horses back to the treeline to follow it to the beach.
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