“I am a Duke of six and twenty. I have need of a wife, of which my mother has reminded me for some time now. It simply seems I shall acquire one sooner rather than later. As for the choice, I cannot say I am displeased. It may not have been what either of us had set out to do, but I daresay our union will not be unpleasant.” He paused to wrap both her hands in his. “Confess. You could do much worse than the Duke of Dorset,” he added with a crooked grin.
She finally laughed aloud at this, and the release of pent-up emotion felt surprisingly good. “You have me there, Your Grace. I am nearly convinced, based on your kind reaction and the lack of my blood shed at your hands, that I could in fact do no better. But I cannot--”
He smiled broadly, both dimples flashing and white teeth appearing as he interrupted her sure denial. “Will you give me a week to convince you I am in earnest? Let me court you as should be done. Let us get to know each other and see if we do not suit.”
Juliet felt herself giving in to the desire for resolution of this entire situation. The fairy tale aspects of his proposal were alarmingly persuasive, and she realized abruptly that she wanted it to be true. She was not dismayed at the thought of being pursued and courted by the Duke. Most frightening of all, she began to hope beyond all hope that he was in earnest. She stared deeply into his cerulean gaze and saw sincerity and expectation on his part as well. She nodded her head and he immediately moved to action.
“There are only two more things that need be accomplished then.” He shifted his position on the floor to one knee and gathered her hands to his chest, dragging her closer to himself.
“Lady Juliet, would you do me the great honor of consenting to be my wife, consenting to share my life and all it entails, consenting to be my Duchess . . . in one week?”
Juliet was undone. The Duke had been gracious, kind, understanding, and forgiving. He had not railed nor demeaned her and her idiotic actions. He seemed, in fact, to be determined to move forward without a backward glance. She had already grown to enjoy his company and conversation, to appreciate his wit, and admire his strength. For a husband, she could certainly do much, much worse, she thought.
“If you are sure, Your Grace, then I consent to the consideration of this week,” returned Juliet, with a slight upturn to her lips and a more serene set to her countenance.
Jonas' own smile increased and Juliet decided he actually looked pleased by this turn of events. Before she could contemplate this further he stood and pulled her to her feet to face him. “I suggest we tell no one else of this trial week, but instead present ourselves a united front when we soon broach our families.” Juliet nodded her acceptance again, but before she could utter any further response Jonas spoke again. “Now, for the second thing that must needs be accomplished. I mean to warn you that I will not hear another 'Your Grace' from you. As my betrothed, and eventually my wife, no more titles out of you, if you please, or there shall be consequences.”
Juliet released another genuine laugh as she looked up into his eyes. “I beg your pardon. I shall endeavor to obey,” she added with a deep curtsey.
Jonas barked out a laugh of his own. “And you assumed a marriage between us not to be borne,” he chided. “Observe how you already pledge to obey.” He winked and turned, placing her hand through his crooked arm. “Now, shake out your skirts and prepare to be cool and calm in the face of battle. Consider it practice for your role as Duchess. We are now off to face our families.”
Juliet took a deep breath and unconsciously smoothed her skirt with her free hand – the very wrinkled skirt that was previously attached to the Duke's bedclothes. She blew out a heavy sigh and cleared her mind for the coming tirades. “Yes, Your Grace,” she responded absently, taking a few steps before jerking to a halt as she realized her mistake. Her eyes flew to the Duke's and she saw them twinkle mischievously. Before she could prevaricate, he grabbed her hand, kissing the tips of her fingers individually as he watched the expressions flit across her face.
“This is your last warning – no more titles,” he reminded her as he replaced her hand then exited the chamber. If a kiss was to be the consequences he so warned her about, however, Juliet could not decide if she would truly obey as she had vowed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act 1, Scene 2
Juliet slowly preceded Jonas into her parents' sitting room with an unsettled stomach and turbid mind. She was heartily dismayed to see all the principle players needed to complete this dramatic comedy: her parents and brothers, Miranda, the Duchess of Dorset, and her Aunt Catherine. Had they all lain in wait for this moment? She could see the obvious curiosity on all their faces, but she could not fail to notice that her mother and his also displayed a mixture of satisfaction and quite possibly delight. The expressions on Miranda and her aunt's visages were altogether different and perplexing as they seemed entirely too satisfied. Save nothing else, it will be a most impressive wedding announcement to read in The Times, she thought blackly.
Despite his assurances, Juliet could not but help to feel, once again, that the Duke was being forced to do something against his will – something he had no intention of committing himself to, and something caused by her own ill-conceived actions. He had made no overtures to anyone of a matrimonial nature, at least that she had seen or heard, and Miranda had certainly never mentioned he was feeling in want of a wife. On reflection, she could note that he had spent much of his time in her company since arriving in Sussex, and mixed more with her and his own family rather than the other guests. Still, to be compelled to offer his protection to one behaving as a child not out of the schoolroom continued to distress her. She released a deep sigh that caused the Duke's hand to squeeze over her own where it rested on his arm.
“Here we go,” he whispered for her ears only before addressing the eager crowd. “Good morning, my lords and ladies. What brings you all together so early?” He questioned without a hint of amusement. He expression was so bland that a stunned silence reigned for several moments. Juliet could contain herself no longer and let out a burst of nervous laughter before choking her tense mirth back into silence. The Duke squeezed her hand reassuringly again and smiled down to her.
“What in the blazes do you have to be laughing about?” yelled her brother Charles, before turning his wrath on his friend. “And you! Get your filthy hands off my sister, you blackguard!” He moved to charge the Duke but was stopped by his brother.
“Charles, we are here to observe, not participate, for the moment. This is a discussion of marriage, after all. I believe the parents and the prospective bride and groom have the floor. And you will watch your language,” he added, almost as an afterthought. The calm manner and words of Maj. Quinn were underscored by the piercing gaze he kept fixed on the Duke, and the subtle way he rested his hand on the scabbard at his side. Good grief, thought Juliet, since when did Marcus wear his sword on a daily basis? She felt a hysterical laugh trying to surface again and swallowed hard.
Jonas dropped Juliet's arm and walked into the room, stopping several feet from the Marquis and Marchioness of Lansdowne. Clasping his hands behind his back, he straightened to his full height, looking every bit the Duke of Dorset. “My Lord and Lady Lansdowne, I am sorry for the conditions under which this meeting is taking place, however misconstrued and innocent they actually are. I must confess myself, however, to be the most blessed of men as I have the honor of seeking the hand of the most beautiful, clever, and honest lady I have ever had the good fortune to know. It is with all sincerity and respect that I ask your permission for the hand of your daughter, the Lady Juliet.”
Silence met his brief speech save for the sighs of the women in the room. Lady Lansdowne beamed her obvious approval and reached over to take the hand of her friend, the Duchess of Dorset, in a sign of solidarity. Juliet's father merely grunted and scowled as he kept his own council for what seemed an eternity but in truth barely c
onstituted a minute. Juliet and Miranda shifted noisily in the uncomfortable silence, but the Duke stood his ground, stoic yet content.
“You say the conditions were innocent. Explain them to me,” barked the Marquis. Small gasps were heard at the lack of respect shown by Juliet's father, but the Duke remained unaffected.
“Lady Juliet will no doubt explain it better than I.” He turned to indicate she should join him near her parents so she moved with deliberate steps, stopping slightly behind and to the side of Jonas. She looked up at his face and was calmed by the supportive smile she found there. Taking a deep breath and smoothing her skirts nervously, she began the tale, starting with the plan to excuse herself from the previous night's dinner and ending with the arrival of the crowd just a scant hour ago. She omitted the involvement of Miranda and the Countess, and any mention of the two previous pranks. When finished, Juliet felt a small measure of relief until her father once again spoke.
“So if I have the right understanding, this is all your fault, Juliet.”
Her face froze in a look of utter horror and then resignation. “It is most assuredly, Papa. The Duke knew nothing of this scheme and was wholly the victim.” Miranda took a breath as if to make a statement but was silenced with a stern look and subtle shake of the head from Juliet. Jonas wondered what that was about and mentally filed it away to think on after the resolution of this tense meeting.
“Because of your actions, you have now forced the son of our most dear friends into a marriage which he was not seeking. But I cannot allow you suffer the consequences of your actions as I am inclined to do. It would have far-reaching repercussions on both our families were I to allow Jonas the reprieve and heap on you all the scorn and ridicule. His sister and your brothers would also suffer, not to mention the tarnish on our family names. No – you must drag this man into matrimony because of your foolish prank.”
Juliet had never felt so low in her life. Her father only voiced what she herself knew to be true, but it hurt all the same. He had always been sure with discipline, but fair with his judgments. She could not fault him in this instance, either. As much as she would like to feel sorry for herself, she knew she had no right. He was correct in his conclusions and the bitter reality of her future stung with a vengeance. The weight of her actions fell full force on her again, and she stumbled slightly, her vision narrowing alarmingly. She wondered again if she would submit to a faint when she felt a strong arm come around her waist in support.
“You go too far, sir, in speaking thus to Lady Juliet. It was a prank that went awry due to circumstances beyond her control. I am not convinced all is lost, however. Our families are friends. We have known each other many years and supported each other in trials and triumphs. I propose this situation to be one of the triumphs. I am surprised, but not at all displeased. It would be my honor and privilege to take Lady Juliet to wife. All that remains is your blessing.” The Duke spoke calmly but forcefully, leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of his statements. He mentally cringed at the Marquis' inadvertent reassertion of the very qualms his daughter voiced about their union, and fervently hoped Juliet would not take heed of his statements. He felt her grasp his hand that rested on her waist and she squeezed it. He relaxed a pace, returning her supportive gesture.
Everyone in the room shifted in their stances and seats as they waited for the response from the Marquis. He was concise. “You have my permission, Your Grace. My blessing I will withhold until such time I see true commitment on both your parts.” He rose and exited to his chamber while Lady Lansdowne and the Duchess immediately jumped from their seats to swallow Juliet in hugs and smother her with congratulations. Miranda ran over to squeeze into the fray from behind and the group nearly tumbled onto the nearby settle. Jonas stepped to the side to escape the feminine melee and submit to whatever censure was sure to come from his betrothed's brothers.
“I'm still not convinced last night was all on the square. I've seen the way you watched Juliet of late. I thought it was your way of trying to figure out what she and Miranda were about; now I'm not so sure if you weren't lusting after my sister,” growled Bristol, his teeth bared in a grim semblance of a smile. Maj. Quinn added his agreement.
“I have seen the way Jonas watches Juliet and would lay money he was lusting after her, but I trusted our friend and knew he would conduct himself honorably and bring her no harm. It seems we should have been watching Juliet with a more jaundiced eye.”
“Oh, she watches him all the time, too,” added Bristol. Jonas' head snapped and his eyes flashed with interest at this observation. “I thought it was part of the plan to somehow fool the remaining members of the LOO. Now I wonder if she wasn't doing her own amount of lusting.” The Earl shivered noticeably and his nose scrunched as if he smelled something foul. “The whole idea of lust, my sister, and my friend just makes my stomach lurch. Thank God I haven't broken my fast yet or I might be tempted to flash the hash.” He shuddered again at the idea.
Jonas was somewhat abashed that others had seen his observations of Juliet; he had considered himself most circumspect. He was mollified by the thought that she might hold him in some fascination as well. Bringing her about to affection might be less difficult than he originally feared. He looked across the room to Juliet and found her gaze fixed on him. She flushed at being caught but did not avert her eyes. He smiled, dimples blazing, as he began to have hope in the truth behind Bristol's words. Juliet returned his smile, tentatively at first, then with a genuineness that transformed her whole countenance from pale and frightened to stunning and sure. Jonas felt his stomach drop at the sight as he considered again how to define his feelings for this woman, and how happily satisfied he was at their current circumstances.
“See Marcus,” jibed the Earl of Bristol. “They're doing it again. Hang me if they aren't lusting after each other right now.” He made a retching noise and grabbed his stomach in mock pain.
Chapter Thirty-Five
They have a plentiful lack of wit.
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2
Although they were meeting in his study in his home, the Duke of Dorset felt completely unnerved by the unrelenting stare of the Marquis of Lansdowne. Jonas resisted the urge to shift in his seat as his future father-in-law glared heatedly at him from his position across the ducal desk.
“Let me assure you once again, my lord, that nothing, absolutely nothing untoward occurred last night in my chambers. All was as Juliet described,” Jonas again offered in attempt to cool the scorching heat that seemed to radiate from the Marquis's eyes.
“I do not doubt the sincerity of my daughter's explanation. One need only look at her face this morning to see she was upset and displeased by the turn of events. I was more concerned with your reaction, or perhaps your lack of reaction, to the unfolding situation.” Lansdowne paused to pierce Jonas with another searching stare before rising from his seat to spread his hands menacingly on the desk between them. “Tell me, Your Grace. How long have you been considering a pursuit of my daughter?”
Jonas visibly started and jumped to his feet defensively, tugging at his cravat that now seemed so tight he was in danger of strangling. “I cannot fathom what you mean, my lord, other than the fact that I know my duty and felt honor-bound to remedy the untenable situation Juliet and I found ourselves in this morning. I--”
“Let me stop you right there, Your Grace, before you dig yourself deeper into a pit from which you cannot escape.” The Marquis turned from the desk and walked over to the large windows that looked out over the drive and gardens of Edgecliff. His back to the Duke, he continued to press his point. “I am very protective of my little girl. No matter her age, she will always be thus to me. She was correct in her statements over the meal a few days past: I would have let her choose a life of so-called spinsterhood before permitting her to marry someone unworthy or unmatched to her. As such, I became quite the stealthy observer of all gentlemen that sought her company.” Lansdowne turned to ag
ain stare at Jonas for a brief but uncomfortable length of time. “I have observed you, Your Grace.”
Jonas swallowed noisily, his mind racing and tumbling over snippets of memories; of his watching Juliet as she danced, their occasional interactions over a punch bowl or card table, their shared waltzes, a few common turns on some terraces. He had always thought himself above reproach in his behavior and brotherly in his attentions, no matter how he had felt within himself. It was one more reason why he so seldom attended formal functions. It was both pleasure and torture to be near Juliet. “Sir, I have always--”
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