Lord Love a Duke

by Renee Reynolds

  The shock of her brother's sudden appearance caused Jonas' hold to loosen as Juliet jumped in surprise, resulting in her immediate sprawl onto the floor of the carriage. She landed hard on one hip with her skirts sliding dangerously high on up her thighs. Jonas was fixated on her legs and failed to hear Bristol's yells to stop the carriage. Fearing something was seriously wrong, the coachman pulled hard on the team's reins, slowing the carriage abruptly and sending a distracted Jonas toppling onto Juliet. Bristol tore open the door to find the couple tangled on the floor.

  “Get off her, you blackguard!” Bristol shouted as he pulled the Duke out by the waist of his breeches and tossed him to the dirt. He turned back to the coach to assess his sister's state but met her fist instead as she connected with his left cheek. He reeled back out of the door, landing next to the Duke.

  “Charles, you are a fool!” she fumed from the doorway as the footman scrambled from his perch to lower the steps. Juliet descended gracefully, shaking her right hand in discomfort before smoothing out her wrinkled skirt and tucking loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. “What is the matter with you?”

  Bristol rubbed his reddened cheek and winced at the tenderness already present. His sister could plant a fair facer. “You were all alone with him, Jules, and he was all over you. I--”

  “Yes, Charles, we were alone, but he was not 'all over me.' In fact, it was I who was all over him, if you will recall, until you attempted to crash our carriage. We're lucky to have stayed aright.”

  “But he had you in his lap, kissing you,” Bristol sputtered.

  “Yes, I was sitting in his lap and I was kissing him, you nodcock. We are to marry in a few days. Think you we should smile politely and occasionally brush hands?” Juliet questioned sardonically, although her cheeks blushed prettily.

  Bristol looked at the Duke before returning his stare to his sister. “I don't want to think about what you two do, but I know you shouldn’t be alone and you shouldn't be kissing in the carriage. I do know that much.”

  Juliet walked over and kicked Bristol in the shin with her leather half boot. “Well let me tell you what I know, dear brother. I know who you were kissing and holding at Lady Coventry's soiree two weeks ago, and you were certainly unchaperoned at the time. I do not believe I have heard an announcement of your nuptials to the lovely widow –“

  “Now hold on, Juliet,” Charles interrupted. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

  “You're quite right. It is not the same thing. I will be married within the week, to the man I was kissing. Too bad your paramour does not have the same assurance, your assignation the same credence. Now I suggest we three take this inside the carriage instead of airing such talk for all the world to overhear. Or better yet, Charles, you may mount up and take your random fit of morality back to the manor. We are expected in Pevensey for shopping. If you come along I shall make sure Mama knows of your keen interest in helping with the wedding.” Juliet turned on her heel and regally walked back to the coach, seating herself with the aid of the footman.

  Jonas and Charles stood up, brushing dirt and leaves from their coats and breeches. Charles nudged the Duke with a grin. Jonas smiled in return before shoving the Earl back to the ground.

  “That's for tossing me out of my own carriage,” Jonas explained, brushing a line of dirt off his sleeve.

  “You're lucky I didn't draw your cork for touching my sister before the vows,” Bristol scorned. “But your punishment will come after the vows. You've caught yourself quite a virago. She's a right spitfire, that one.”

  Jonas looked over at the carriage and his features softened in admiration. “She's actually quite magnificent, my friend,” he tossed over his shoulder as he boarded the coach in one step. Charles heard the rap on the roof and the carriage pulled away.

  “Good Lord, it's love and lust with those two. I really think I may be sick.” The Earl of Bristol picked himself up from the dirt, dusted off his clothes, and remounted his horse, turning back toward Edgecliff.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

  William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, Act 3, Scene 1

  “And still the family has no true betrothal announcement!” exclaimed Miranda from her perch on the side of Lady Ashford's bed. She looked upon the reflection in the mirror as the Countess and her maid prepared for retiring. “I noticed their mutually flushed appearance when we stopped on High Street, which was even worse when we arrived back at Edgecliff after our trip. They seemed completely lost in each other this afternoon. They took no notice of me standing only a few steps away in the entrance hall,” she fumed.

  Juliet's aunt smiled but made no comment, waving off the officious hands of her maid and dismissing her for the night. When the door had clicked shut the Countess began. “Although I trust Agnes implicitly, I know that she would make free any information downstairs. The servants here are close to the family and would think it no harm to pass on any information gleaned from us concerning the Duke and my niece,” she lightly admonished Miranda. “However, now that we are alone, I must agree; I thought something would be forthcoming after the day's shopping trip. They were alone for the entire ride to Town, and they arrived much later than we. I had hoped Juliet would seek out the family tonight.”

  “Surely we must do something! The deadline is nearly at hand. You know as well as I that Juliet is stubborn enough to want to wait until the last possible hour to make formal her decision, but there is so much to plan and do yet for the ceremony.”

  “Hush, child, and let me think,” chided Lady Ashford. “We need a plan and I need quiet to formulate it.” The Countess began to pace back and forth across the plush Aubusson carpet. Miranda moved to sit at the window seat but jumped up with a shout as soon as her bottom hit the cushion. Her hand had landed on Aunt Catherine's embroidery hoop, the needle pricking her thumb. She immediately stuck the injured digit in her mouth as the Countess hurried over to inspect the hurt. A sudden sentiment struck her and she squeezed Miranda's sore hand, eliciting a small yelp from the girl.

  “So sorry, but I just had an idea! As soon as you hurt your finger I rushed over to see what happened. I was concerned because I care for you. Now think – when Juliet fled the house after her confrontation with Melville, Jonas rushed after her. He was concerned for her and I'm convinced he came back in love with the gel, if he wasn't already.” She paused for emphasis. “What do you suppose would happen if we arrange the need for Juliet to rush after Jonas and care for him?”

  “I cannot conceive how we can hurt Jonas just to provoke Juliet to her true feelings!”

  “Oh, Miranda, I love you dearly, but you are just a shade too dramatic sometimes.” Lady Ashford grabbed Miranda's uninjured hand. “Think of this! I had planned to send those two after berries for me. What if someone should threaten them with harm, allowing them to turn to each other for protection, revealing their overwhelming care for each other?”

  “And you think me over-dramatic? What kind of harm can we possibly threaten on a berry picking task? Shall I summon the beekeeper to knock over a hive? Or perhaps we could locate Melville to attack Jonas rather than Juliet this time.” Miranda laughed at her own jest before plopping down on the window seat again, this time avoiding the sewing needles.

  Lady Ashford twirled more quickly than her years should have allowed, causing Miranda to jump in surprise. “Brilliant, my dear! As no sign of that worthless Viscount has surfaced I shall casually mention that I think it safe for them to pick berries for me, even though I will remind them Melville may still be lurking nearby. Of course they will think nothing of it, and go on my errand. You shall be behind the treeline and will fire a gun in the air, startling them. That will cause them to fear for their lives, remembering my warnings about Melville, and force them to acknowledge their feelings.”

  Miranda tapped her finger against her lips as she contemplated the Countess' proposal, a deep look of concentration o
ver her countenance. “It seems a little far-fetched to me, but I will remark on Melville's disappearance to Juliet. Think you a gunshot will make them react so? Will I need to fire more than once? I should think I will need to make them feel trapped by a gunman so that they will be confined together under threat.”

  “That's true, my dear. You will need to be able to see their reaction to the shot. It might take more than one. I want them to feel they need to take cover, to feel threatened under fire. That may lead to confessions.”

  “I will need more than one pistol. How am I to obtain the firearms needed? I may not have time to reload and shoot again before they could simply flee the area.”

  “I travel with pistols in my carriage, as most do, so we simply need to go out to the stables and gather what you need,” stated Lady Ashford with matter-of-fact certainty. “Let us go now, under cover of darkness. It makes me feel like I am involved in some important intrigue for the Crown.”

  “I swear you are my favorite person in the world, my Lady A! Shall we dress all black for this secret mission? Or breeches? I have several pairs of old breeches and shirts,” Miranda laughed as she finished her question.

  “Breeches, child? Whatever do you – no, never you mind. I would do well not to ask that question. We will most certainly not wear black, either. It makes my complexion quite sallow. I only wore black for one week for my not-so-dearly-departed Earl.” She patted Miranda's arm as they rose from their seat at the window. “And I am quite fond of you, too, my dear. We are making quite the formidable team.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Heaven truly knows that thou are false as hell.

  William Shakespeare, Othello, Act 4, Scene 2

  The barest scratch on the door preceded the abrupt and noisy arrival of Miranda into Juliet's room the following morning. She had just begun the laces on her half boots, the surprise of Miranda's coming causing Juliet's hand to slip, her body to jump, and her balance to fail as she tumbled inelegantly off the settle to the floor.

  “Miranda!” she shouted to the rafters. “You have the most unfortunate way of entering one's room. Can you never wait to be admitted before bursting in like a horse over a gate?”

  “My apologies, but have you heard the news?”

  “As I have yet to leave my room, I have heard no news save your insincere apology.”

  Miranda scrunched her face in a mock pout. “My apology was most sincere, albeit brief. I truly did not mean to startle you into such a state.” She reached a hand down to aid her friend back onto the chair. “I will even play your maid while you hear my report.” She grabbed Juliet's boot and began to lace them snugly around her ankle. Miranda took great care, evening out the ties and straightening the tongue, remaining silent as she worked.

  “Miranda, I thought you were to be my maid while you talked. Is the work too difficult to allow both at once?”

  “Ha-ha, jester. I forget what a mood you can be in the mornings.”

  “I have no such 'morning mood' to cause you complaint. Any mood I am in is the direct result of the near-apoplexy you gave me exploding into my room like the fusillade of a cannon.”

  “Fie on you, then, you saucy piece! I shall keep this news, which relates directly to you, I might add, to myself.” She dropped Juliet's second boot with a thud and stood. “I will leave you to finish your toilette in blessed solitude and silence,” she declared with a dramatic turn and flounce.

  “Saints and sinners, Miranda! If your mother hears that awful cant coming out of your mouth she will tie you to a chair and bid you recite aloud Fordyce's Sermons to Young Women. And I will not apologize for being upset that you scared ten years from my life when you rushed into the room all a twitter. I will, however, ask you nicely to stay and open your budgt to me.”

  “Now who has the vulgar tongue?”

  “I know very little, actually. I have heard Lord Aylesford complaining that his grandmother and aunt speak it constantly; it is so much gibberish but they seem to know exactly what the other means. I have managed to figure out some phrases from hearing his stories and listening to the servants. Of course Charles delights in using the rudest of phrases but I have not learned most of their meanings yet.” She finished tying her boot and rose from the settle. “Forget all this! My curiosity is aroused now and I must know what you know!”

  Miranda glanced around the room as if seeking to make sure they were alone. Juliet followed suit before shaking her head at that nonsense. Miranda walked up to her friend as if to share a most important confidence.

  “They think Melville is still close by!” she whispered with force. “Your brother Marcus returned late last night and I overheard him saying that the Viscount has not been seen anywhere. It seems your brother and some Guards friends scoured London and he has not been found. Do you think him still here? Could he be waiting and watching to strike again?” She shuddered with wide eyes and clutching hands.

  “Is that all your news? That the Viscount cannot be found? I have no care for what that bounder is doing, nor where he hides.”

  “But what if he should seek revenge on you?”

  “Revenge? For what? He attacked me. He affronted me. He has no cause for revenge.”

  Miranda's brows raised dramatically as she pursed her lips. “I think he does, Juliet. You insulted him quite thoroughly, and he fled because he knew he would suffer at the hands of your brothers and mine. I should think he would like to return some form of payback to you. He likely feels cheated out of your hand.”

  “I should think those reasons would be precisely what keeps him in hiding,” Juliet scoffed. “He got off lightly with a mere facer. I should have done much more. He is fortunate I was not armed.” She gathered her bonnet and gloves. “He was thwarted in his plans for my dowry, not my heart. I will waste no time thinking of him. I must be off. I have been summoned to collect strawberries this morn. It seems my aunt must have them now, and I must collect them with my betrothed. A more obvious picture of matchmaking does not exist.”

  Miranda's eyes flashed with something before she masked them with her lashes. Gathering Juliet by the arm she herded her friend out the door and down the stairs. “You must be off, then.” They reached the hall, where Jonas waited with a large basket, and Miranda bade them farewell. “Happy hunting to you both,” she called with a wave before turning back for the stairs.

  “What was that about?” queried Jonas.

  “Just Miranda being Miranda,” offered Juliet with a smile. “She felt it necessary to burst into my room, abuse me with vulgarity, then tell me that evidently Viscount Melville still lurks around Sussex as he has not been found in Town.” Juliet arranged her bonnet just so, tying the ribbons under her chin. Pulling on her gloves she turned to face the Duke. “Are you ready to perform our duty to Aunt Catherine? It seems she is in need of servants and none others will do.”

  Jonas offered his arm as they walked to the music room to exit through the french windows onto the rear terrace. “I think I have a most helpful ally in your aunt. It seems she would like to assist my suit. If that be the case, I can think of no duty to be assigned that I would not heartily agree to if it means spending time with you.”

  Juliet blushed prettily but did not demure. “You will find me most agreeable to your company as well, but I must complain that it has been so warm that picking berries, even in the morning, will be more chore than delight. I find there is nothing so refreshing as a carriage ride, and would not complain of another, however,” she commented saucily.

  Jonas' eyes lit with an icy fire as he brought their stroll to an abrupt halt. “It pleases me to hear you say that. Miranda's flutterings made me forget to greet you properly,” he added before dropping his head to kiss her thoroughly. He raised his head slightly, rubbing her nose with his. “A good morn to you, my lady,” he offered before meeting her lips again. Juliet sighed and he felt her hands splay across his chest, inching up slowly to grab the lapels of his jacket. He smiled and slanted his head,
taking the kiss deeper, his warm hand cupping her face. The sudden slamming of a nearby door broke them apart.

  Jonas sighed heavily and was encouraged to see Juliet's chest rising and falling with effort as well. A few more days and he could kiss and touch and greet her however he wanted, whenever he wanted. “We should move on before I continue to forget myself and our location,” he said with great reluctance coloring his voice. Taking her hand, he placed it in the crook of his arm and they proceeded on their walk. Arriving at the berry beds, they moved down the opposite sides of a single row, searching for the succulent red fruit while sharing amusing observations about the assembled house guests.