by Abigail Agar
“I will endeavour to return in one piece,” the Duke assured her as he stood up to escort her to the door.
When the man held the door open, Jules slipped by the Duke, careful not to brush too close to the man. She just caught the spicy scent that always seemed to cling to the Duke.
She wondered what it was, and as she did, she hesitated for just a moment. Her eyes lifted to his, and she found him watching her intently. Jules blushed, quickly exited the room, and took herself with all due haste down the hall and away from the man.
***
Good to his word, Jules did not see the Duke for the rest of the day. When she enquired after him, she was informed by Lady St Claire that her son had had some business at one of the local prisons. Jules wondered if he had gone to see about the case against her guildmates, but she kept the question to herself.
That evening, Jules sat in front of the vanity allowing Sherry to unbraid and brush her hair. Her dark hair fell in lovely waves as the girl took apart the braids and began brushing Jules’ long hair out.
This would have been a totally foreign thing to Jules only a week ago, but now she felt it strangely relaxing as she was freed from the confines of her corset and hairpins for a night’s reprieve.
“I heard Lady St Claire talking to the Duke,” Sherry said conversationally. “Lady St Claire is most anxious for you to make your societal debut.”
Jules cringed. “Well, I am dreading being presented like a slab of pork at a picnic,” she said in disgust. “No wonder society is so far from the realities of the world. Is this really what they care about?”
“I find it exciting for you,” Sherry admitted. “The Duke is a fine catch, and you are sure to make several of the fancy ladies who had their eyes set on him very unhappy.”
Jules considered that and brightened. “That does make me look forward to it more,” Jules admitted with a grin.
Sherry giggled and blushed. “You are as bold a lady as I have ever known,” Sherry said with a shake of her head.
“Truth be told, my father raised me to be more like the boys in the yards than my mother raised a lady,” Jules admitted with a laugh. “Sometimes, I think I have lost the feeling for matters of a feminine nature.”
Sherry shrugged, “It may be that the Duke will help you remember some of those lessons. He is a handsome man, after all.”
“Sounds like you might be better off marrying him then,” Jules said, and then she laughed at the look on Sherry’s face. “I mean no offence, Sherry. I am just jesting.”
Sherry waved off Jules’ laughter. “Jests like that could land you in the kettle water with Lady St Claire,” Sherry warned.
“I know,” Jules said. She sighed. “I’m sorry to cause you grief. I consider you to be my friend, and I have never had many of those.”
Sherry’s expression softened as she picked up another section of Jules’ hair and began brushing it out. Sherry said softly, “I consider you a friend as well, and that’s why I hope that you and the Duke are able to make a true wedding of it. I think you’ll find him pleasant if given a chance.”
“I promise that I’ll try,” Jules said honestly. The thought of marrying the Duke had gone from ludicrous a few days ago to bearable, perhaps even more than bearable. Who’s to say how she might feel about it tomorrow? Jules smiled. “I’ll definitely try.”
***
The Newgate Prison, despite being recently rebuilt to accommodate more modern inventions such as the penal treadmill, still had the major issue of just having too many occupants.
Gregory counted more than seven men in each cell, and he wondered how many had really done much more than being in debt or homeless to earn their place behind the iron bars? A prison guard bobbed his head at Gregory as the Duke passed. “Your Grace,” the man intoned with respect.
He gave the man a brief nod. Gregory tried to recall the guard’s name but could not. It seemed the guards came and went at such frequency that learning their names was almost an exercise in futility.
He had not come here to make any new acquaintances, but instead had come to see how the barrister was making out with the mason’s guild.
“Hello, my good man,” Gregory said as he caught sight of the barrister a few cells ahead of him.
The man turned and gave Gregory a warm smile. “Ah, there is the patron Duke of Saints,” Reginald Dulock said with a chuckle. “Come to check on me?”
“I have indeed, old friend,” Gregory said with warmth. He did not mind the man’s jest. He and Reginald had worked together before, and he found the man to be amicable, and most importantly, trustworthy. “Have you a moment to pass the time?”
Reginald nodded and waved for Gregory to walk with him towards the courtyard. “Of course, Your Grace,” Reginald said.
As soon as they walked through the courtyard, Gregory asked, “What do you think the odds are for the masons?”
“I think that the case against them is paltry and hearsay, at best,” Reginald said with disgust. The man sighed, “That being said, I hear the judge is quite set against them. He’s already labeled the libels, and the penalty for that alone could put them in the Chates.”
Gregory did not want to hear that, but he had expected it anyway. “I will see if I can broach the subject with the judge in question. He is familiar with me and may show some leniency if I can get him to see reason.”
“You know as well as I do, Your Grace, that reason does not always have a place on the podium of the judiciary,” Reginald said with measured words.
Gregory knew that very well, but he owed at least a little loyalty to Maxwell Chapman for the sake of their boyhoods together. “I will report back to you about my level of success with Sir Chapman,” Gregory promised.
Reginald accepted the Duke’s words with a nod of his head. Gregory only hoped that Maxwell would prove reasonable.
Chapter 6
Jules was fascinated by the food above all else as she gazed at the table holding plate after plate of desserts that she could not even recognize. She was waiting to be announced as the music drifted through the warm summer air. She was standing behind a doorway covered with a fine silky gauze material that Jules’ mother would have been envious to see.
The Duke was waiting by her side to be announced as well. The man gave her an encouraging smile that did nothing to calm the butterflies in her stomach.
A bellowing voice called the names of the couple in front of them, and the line stepped forward one space as the couple moved through the doorway when the fabric was pulled back.
The Duke held his arm up, and Jules took a breath as she placed her hand lightly on the man’s forearm as Lady St Claire had instructed her to do. She would only know the Lady St Claire and the Dowager Stewart, aside from the Duke, who had paid her a brief visit before the party to introduce herself properly.
The booming voice called out, “The Duke of Thornton and Miss Julia Kelley.”
As the material was pulled back, the Duke led Julia through the doorway, and she looked around at the lanterns that hung from the tree branches. There were chairs set about in groupings; tables were set to the sides for people to use and to hold the food. The centre was cleared, and a large circle of stones made a very beautiful spot where couples danced to the flow of the music being played by a quartet under a bay tree.
“It’s beautiful,” Jules whispered.
The Duke gave her a smile. “I hope it is still beautiful once we begin our round of socializing,” the man said with humour.
Truth be told, Jules’ spirit could not even be dampened by the thought of having to smile and curtsey. She spotted Lady St Claire and Dowager Stewart standing near one of the tables with another woman, drinking something that was pink.
Despite her interest in the food table, Jules found herself being guided by the Duke away from the desserts and towards a man dressed in ruffles and tails.
“Sir Chapman,” the Duke said grandly, “allow me to introduce to you my betrothed, Mi
ss Julia Kelley.”
The man grinned broadly and clapped his hands together, “Ah, so this is the lovely lady that Dowager Stewart was telling me about. I have heard so much of you, young lady, that I feel as if we have already met.”
Jules blushed and wondered what the Dowager had actually said about her. The Duke said softly to Jules, “Miss Kelley, let me introduce to you Sir Maxwell Chapman who has devoted himself to a life of the judiciary. Sir Chapman and I practically grew up together.”
Jules smiled and gave the man a deep curtsey. The man was a judge, and Jules knew better than to rankle the ire of someone who willfully threw men in jail for little to no crime. “It is an honour to meet you, Sir Chapman,” Jules said with all the awe that she could muster.
“She’s as lovely as I have heard,” the judge said to the Duke as if Jules was not even present. She quickly set her mind against the man, but she kept the vacant smile plastered on her face that seemed to be the normal expression if she was judging by the women near her.
The Duke nodded his agreement. “I am rather taken with her,” the Duke said, and his grey eyes went over to Jules who had to stop her mouth from falling open.
She blushed and hid her face behind a fan as Lady St Claire had taught her to do. Thankfully, the men took it for her being demure rather than mortified. The Duke’s open adoration had quite simply caught her off-guard. Jules said softly, “Excuse me. I fear I must find something to wet my throat.”
“Do you want me to fetch something for you?” the Duke said with an affectionate smile.
Jules shook her head hastily. “No, I actually see Lady St Claire. I will go talk to her and leave you two gentlemen to your talk,” Jules said with a smile.
The Duke thankfully seemed amenable to that as he nodded. Sir Chapman bowed to Jules as she left. It took Jules no time to make her way around the circle of dancers and back to where the Dowager Stewart and Lady St Claire stood.
“Hasty retreat?” Dowager Stewart asked Jules wryly.
Jules had taken a liking to the woman directly upon meeting her, and she gave the Dowager a smile. “I needed something to drink, and so I left the gentlemen to their stories,” Jules said simply.
A servant overhearing Jules’ words swiftly brought her a glass of the pink liquid. Jules thanked the man but eyed the liquid with doubt. “It’s a strawberry drink that Lady Chapman is quite fond of,” Lady St Claire explained.
“It really is rather decadent,” Dowager Stewart said as she took a sip of her own drink.
A cautious sip brought Jules to the conclusion that by decadent Dowager Stewart meant overly sweet. “Oh, my,” Jules said as she blinked. “That is very sweet.”
“Oh, you will get used to it,” Lady St Claire said with a smile.
Jules wondered that if by used to it the woman meant she would soon die from the amount of sweetness, but she kept the pondering to herself.
***
“Quite a winning creature,” Maxwell said as he stared after Jules.
Gregory nodded and fought down the urge to take offence to how the man was eyeing the dark-haired girl. “Yes,” Gregory agreed. “While we have a moment,” Gregory said in hopes of steering the conversation away from Jules, “I had a word with Barrister Dulock about the case against the men from the Mason’s Guild. You are the judge presiding over that, are you not?”
Maxwell’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Yes, but I fail to see your interest in it,” Maxwell said as he eyed Gregory suspiciously. “The matter is already well at hand. I told Barrister Dulock as much. The case against the men is a bit overwhelming. Not really worth the time of a barrister such as Dulock.”
“That strikes me peculiar. Dulock seems to think the case is as thin as muslin,” Gregory said with a shake of his head.
The judge’s eyes narrowed as he scoffed, “Those men committed libel and worse they have no conscience. Would you have me release men who drown their convictions in the blood of children?”
“Blood of children?” Gregory echoed with distaste. “Is this true?”
Maxwell nodded. “On good authority, it was they who set the fire that killed all those children on Bridwell Street. Just to imagine it makes my blood boil.
It is one thing to harbour ill against what one perceives as hurting their economy, but quite another to take such heinous actions in revenge.” Maxwell’s voice fairly shook with anger.
Gregory shook his head sadly. Maxwell really seemed to believe what he was saying, or he was a better liar than Gregory gave him credit for. Gregory put his hand on Maxwell’s shoulder. “Calm yourself, my friend, or you might very well become the gallows and lose your morals,” Gregory warned the man in a low voice.
Maxwell took a deep breath and smoothed down his shirt. “Thank you, old friend, for your counsel. I fear that I have done this so long that I can suffer no more of such villainy,” Maxwell said with a shake of his fist. “I apologize for letting this get me out of sorts. It is a good thing the young lady did not witness it, or it might have frightened her.”
Gregory nodded, but he doubted that Jules would have been affected by the man’s fervent words. “I wonder, though,” Gregory said quietly, “why would men such as they do such a deed? Their work is not affected by the factories, and they certainly have families who would hurt at their loss. It seems it benefits no one except for those who would wish the guilds dismantled.”
Maxwell eyed Gregory and frowned. “You sound as though you are on their side. Why was it that you spoke to the barrister about the case against the men?”
“I am the one who asked him to take on the case in the first place,” Gregory said honestly. “I know one of the young men in the guild, and I have it on my own good authority that the guild and its members were the only ones trying to put the fire out.”
There was doubt in the judge’s eyes. Maxwell said cautiously, “Those are words that I would say with caution, old friend. There are some who would take exception to one of their peers seeking to protect those who call forth rebellious talk among the lower classes.”
“I am aware,” Gregory said quietly as he scanned the people assembled on the Duke of Rutherford’s lawn for the festivities. “I am glad that I can count you as one who still thinks fairness is above reproach, old friend.”
Maxwell nodded slowly, “Of course you can, Gregory.”
Gregory reached his arm out. Maxwell grabbed Gregory at the elbow much as they had as boys and Gregory clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “Don’t frown so, Sir Chapman, there are wrongs to right in this world yet,” Gregory said grandly.
Maxwell agreed, “That is what worries me the most.”
***
Jules stood with the ladies until the Duke approached a bit later. She had seen him coming towards them with long, purposeful strides that set the butterflies loose in her stomach yet again. She tried to crush down the jittery feeling in her legs, but she could not.
Dowager Stewart said, “I do believe the Duke has come to capture his rose.”
Lady St Claire laughed softly, “He does appear to be headed this way.”
Jules could not even manage a reply. The Duke’s long hair was tied back, and it swung with his movements. The movement of his hair only bringing Jules’ attention to the broad shoulders of the man headed toward her.
The Duke stopped just short of Jules and gave his mother and Dowager Stewart a bow, “Ladies, I have come to steal Miss Kelley away for a dance if that is acceptable to you?”
The two older women smiled at the blond Duke’s question. Dowager Stewart said encouragingly, “It would suit a couple to dance together.”
Jules was left with little choice but to accept the hand the Duke extended to her. As the man escorted her away, Jules said quietly, “I don’t know anything about dances such as these.”
“They are quite easy,” the Duke whispered back. “Just follow my lead, and you will do fine.”
Jules steadied her nerves as the man turned towards her a
t the edge of the dance floor. The Duke slipped his hand behind her lower back, and she laid her hand on top of his shoulder as he grasped her other hand. The next moment, Jules was whirled away into the dance. It might have looked easy, but Jules did not find it so at all.
The Duke seemed pleased by her, and Jules just laughed as she tried her best to get the steps correctly. They soon were laughing so much that Jules barely noticed the other occupants of the dance floor. It was a wonderful free feeling that took over as she danced with the man. He was so light and graceful that she envied the ease with which he moved.
When they finally stopped, the man from the nearest couple said to Gregory, “I think the dance you are doing must be more fun than ours.”
