by Patty Deans
After entering the yellow parlor, Aunt Shredda said, "I do think James had a bit of good advice. You need to reel him in before he knows you have gone fishing."
"I am beginning to have doubts about James. He can be headstrong you know." Inside, Julia hoped he would come about. For Aunt Shredda she said, "I'll do the pretty and make every man in attendance think that I am au courant. I'll not give them a chance to think of me as second best."
The yellow roses she had cut in the hot house early that morning caught her eye. She padded over the Aubusson carpet toward them on the table along the far wall. One by one Julia rearranged them in the crystal vase.
"It's the only way." Aunt Shredda laughed and waltzed out of the room.
Julia stared out of the window in a brown study, the roses forgotten. The future was as bleak as the darkness outside. The one thing she wanted she held to be beyond her reach.
Suddenly, the squeak of the door hinge drew her gaze back into the room. The object of her affection walked into the room attired in the same single breasted brown cloth coat and beige breeches as he wore at table. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Surely he intended to find his aunt in the parlor, not Julia. She started to leave.
"Wait, Julia." He reached out his hand. "I wanted to have a word with you."
Tentatively she sat down on the edge of the nearest chair.
"I thought it best if I were to go over the list of gentlemen Aunt has chosen to attend the ball." He began to pace before her, his hands behind his back. "You will have a choice of four fine men. Winnie loves the country and hates London. Which is something you have in common with him. He needs a bride. Gabby has a sister who just hasn't taken in London, and he wants to get her married before he looks around -- but he could be caught. Glen is easy going, but his war wound has leaves him to believe he is not marriage material. The doctor told me he doesn't have to limp but can't admit it to himself. He needs a woman as tenacious as you to help him forget the past and see he has a future. He will probably never be titled, but he has a small income and could provide nicely for someone who is content in the country. But Keven would be the best prize. His wit is sharp and his words are brutally honest. Traits you surely admire. They are all fine men, and if you would flirt a bit you could snare one of them. They are a bit older and mature. They would all be faithful husbands. When you decide let me know, and I'll help you."
"Flirt a bit?" Marriage to her was so repulsive to him, he was offering to help her snare a husband; how absurd and hurtful. It was hard to school her thoughts when her heart was aching.
James frowned. "What is it?"
"You are worse than a match-making momma. I would never have believed it of you, all this conniving! And they are your friends too. How could you do such a thing to them?"
"I wanted to help you."
"I don't need your help," she returned. "Besides, I thought you had asked for my hand. Or have you forgotten that already?"
"No, not exactly. I thought it might do you good to meet other men and perhaps find the love of your heart instead of settling for me."
It was stated so nonchalantly, she couldn't believe he was talking about her life as though it was an inanimate object to be moved from this house to another.
"You prefer I settle for one of them rather than you? For I do not believe in love at first sight. It is much more than that. It grows as you become more acquainted with one another over a period of time, and I don't mean hours or a few days." What she now saw in James' character wasn't very appealing to her. Perhaps he was doing her favor she might one day choose to thank him. Yet her heart ached and she couldn't wait to gain the privacy of her room for a long cry.
"Trust me, it will do you good to mingle with other men. You'll see." He came over and gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"Perhaps." She sighed and let him believe what he wished.
With a smile she was far from feeling, she stood and departed the room. It took all of her resolve to hold her emotions in check as she strolled down the hall. When at last she climbed the stairs she ran to her room, burst through her door she fell on her bed and cried.
After a while, she lay still with her knees held against her chest. A wisp of a cloud hovered close to her bed. She wasn't alone.
The Old Earl appeared, saying, "Flirt with all the men. It's the only way. Poor dear Robert will be disappointed if you can't keep James under your thumb. You must make him jealous. He is a...a rogue and worse, but loveable. Trust me."
Julia pushed herself to a sitting position. What was it with the Earl's of Hawkthorn that thy wanted her to trust them? Mayhap this spirit was actually James playing tricks on her. Yet, she knew that wasn't so.
"I'll try...I'll really try." She whispered and wiped at her tears.
CHAPTER 9
Next morning, Julia rose early. Quickly she dressed in her old riding clothes, bypassing the fancy velvets Aunt Shredda had chosen for her. It would be the last morning she dared to race across the fields without censure. As she padded toward the door she notice a letter propped against her mirror on the chest.
Breaking the seal, she recognized Aunt Shredda's neat writing. Her heartbeat quickened, she clutched the note to her bosom. Fearing the worst, her hands shook as she tore open the message.
My Dearest Julia,
Though James may be unaware that you run Hawkthorn, the servants are not. James must see this as part of your charm for our scheme to take shape. It will give him the liberty to leave the manor in your hands. Just as it did my brother, God bless his soul. He found no pride of heritage in a title, as James does, nor any interest in a well- run manor, as James. It is obvious to all how much you love Hawkthorn and Robert. Your pride is no less than James'. Hawkthorn and all it represents is your cherished dream. You have the ability to achieve your own goal.
I must remain what in reality I have been since I left here as a bride, I am merely a guest at Hawkthorn. It is necessary that James discover that you alone can handle his guests.
James started at Eton with these men. I want to remind you about them. Not that I want you to take this for gospel for much has happened in England to change a man. But everyone has an Achilles' heel, so in spite of my opinion you might find it a way to use every guest to your advantage.
Winston Trembelle and his sisters Margaret and Jane. He's too stuffy to help you with James.
My friend Clarice and her son, Gabriel, Earl of Howerd. Gabby is of medium height and medium looks, but he makes up for it all with laughter and a gentle wit. You might obtain his sympathy and persuade him to help you reel in James. Virginia, his sister, is either languishing for someone she loves or will never marry. Sad girl, very sad. I do not know the details, doubt if anyone really knows. She keeps to herself.
Keven, Marquess of Wattor. You might be able to talk him into helping you with James. He would create a bit of jealousy in James' heart. But then you and James are not allowing your hearts to be involved. Too bad. Perhaps that will come later.
Then there is Mr. Glen Sharn, -- he has a chance of becoming the Duke of Nareyton. His cousin leads a wild life and undoubtedly will never marry. Glen has a limp from that awful war with the French. He talks only of horses and hunting. I doubt him clever enough to help you in any way that would be noticeable, though he might entertain Robert.
All the guests have spent a few Christmases with each other in the past when the Old Earl gave the balls. These are James' friends. You must let them know you like them, and don't let them get away with leaving you out of any activity. You should be easily accepted by them.
Everyone knows you can climb trees and swim with the best of the stable boys. They have heard the stories and teased James about being the fiery Hawkthorn Dragon.
Don't worry about the ball. You know all of the neighbors who will attend. Ellis will handle it without any problem. I'll try not to be too much trouble. You can do it!
Your loving friend, Aunt Shredda
Though irritated at the unexpected responsi
bility thrust her way, Julia could not dismiss that Aunt Shredda had given her an idea. She would enlist the guests to help her show the Earl of Hawkthorn that she is an enchantress.
She enjoyed the freedom of Hawkthorn gave her, so unlike the restrictions of London, but tonight the house guests were expected for dinner, and they must never suspect her of being a hoyden. She glanced down at her breeches and knew it would do her cause harm if James or his guests caught her riding astride. But this morning, she still had a few hours to be herself. She dashed through the kitchen to grab a small breakfast roll and apple, then out to the stable where Frank had her horse saddled and waiting for her.
Mounting her black steed, she galloped off in the opposite direction from the one James took every morning. No need in clashing with him this early in the day. The brisk breeze blowing across her face obliterated all her worries.
Thirty minutes later, she pulled her horse up to the brook that rambled across the Hawkthorn's grounds and dismounted. Dipping her hands in cold water, she saw James' reflection in the stream. Her heart hammered in her chest. "La! The devil himself has caught me!" she thought, then took a deep breath and turned a smiling face to him. "What are you doing here?"
"Following you."
"But you never go this way," she hoped he couldn't read her true feelings on her face. Could he have had a change of heart?
"I have every right to ride in any direction on my property. Besides, Aunt Shredda wanted you to know that Glen Sharn will be arriving within the hour. She is in the process of using some sort of cucumber cream on her face and cannot be available to greet him upon his arrival."
Julia laughed. If there was anything she learned from life, it was that the dreams rarely came through the way you wanted them. Plan on the unexpected to happen at every turn. To cover her dashed dreams, she said, "She's determined I take charge for her. Now he is the one with an uncle that is a Duke...not long for this world. The duke's heir is Mr. Sharn's cousin...a man who will die from excesses and never marry."
"May be true but I doubt it." Chuckling, James added, "Glen cannot be cajoled into dancing with his limp. He doesn't like caroling or acting. He likes children, and Robert, with his quick mind, will of course hold his interest. He will not fall at your feet nor at any of the other single ladies present. I'm quite certain Aunt Shredda is only repeating gossip; she hasn't a clue to how Glen or his relatives live."
"Are all the male guests going to be difficult?" Like you, she imagined as she decided to play his courting game.
"You can have your pick of the male guests. Any one of them might fall for you if your lure is bright enough. Just choose which one, I will help you land him."
"How idiotic can you be? If I want one of your fancy friends, have no fear, I can lure him and hook him on my own." She thought it funny how he equated catching a spouse to catching fish. So like a man, she guessed.
James looked her up and down. "Regardless of what wiles you may think you have up your sleeve, I'll not tolerate your riding every morning in male clothing. The stable- keep will not saddle a horse for you if you show up in those clothes."
Anger at his high handed manner replaced her playful mood, she mounted her horse. Before she took off, she shot one last sarcastic remark over her shoulder, "Yes, my lord of lords."
***
James stood flexing his whip while Julia rode off as if the flame throwing Hawkthorn Dragon chased her. Does his feisty ward still believe him a dragon? She read entirely too many stories of the monster slaying his enemies to save the castle. Why had his grandmother written such nonsense?
He stood looking over his land, awed by all he saw. He glanced up at the tall oak, and recalled what wild schemes he concocted as a boy. He hoped Robert had just such a place to dream, hidden from the adults who controlled his life.
James sighed. He realized that he no longer could hide from authority for now he possessed that power. Maybe not completely, for he had no control of Aunt Shredda. Whatever possessed the dowager to leave the responsibility for their guests to a child? Even if Aunt Shredda wanted to attract the Duke of Trembelle or his brother James, she could have handled the first days. Winnie's father and uncle were not joining them until later.
He shook his head trying to clear his mind of the extra duties forced on him. Now, he would have to keep his guests comfortable and Julia under control.
He swung his horse around and trotted back to the house. It would not do for Glen to arrive while James was out and about the grounds.
At the stable he noticed Glen's horse. "Frank, how long ago did Mr. Sharn arrive?"
"He helped Lady Julia dismount when she returned from her ride."
"Damn, the chit and her breeches!" His words of disgust had the stable boys racing away.
"If his eyes were open, my lord, he saw her." Frank's eyes twinkled, when he added, "He told her that he'd never seen a lady look so beautiful riding a horse."
"Good God, that's not like Glen." Frank must be losing his sense of what is acceptable for single young ladies of fashion.
Striding to the house, he slammed through the back door. With clinched fists, he advanced into the drawing room, no Julia. Next he perused the library without finding her. "Ellis," he yelled.
"Yes, my lord."
"Have you seen Lady Julia?"
"I believe she is in the kitchen, my lord."
James dashed for the lower floor. The sharp staccato of his heels echoed from the tiled hall. Bursting into the kitchen he found Glen and Julia sitting at the servants' table sipping tea and nibbling tarts.
"What are you doing here?" James shouted.
"Eating delicious hot raspberry tarts," Glen said in a matter of fact voice.
"You can eat tarts in the drawing room." Sarcasm filled James' voice.
"Not when your hostess is wearing forbidden breeches. She can safely eat here, sneak up the backstairs and never be caught by her guardian. If I were you, old man, I'd shut my mouth before I swallowed a fly." He chuckled, adding, "You might join us. The tea is hot and the tarts are warm. We can pretend you're naught but a stable boy."
James curbed in his emotion then fell into an old wooden chair next to the table. "Oh, Julia, you will be the death of me. Glen is different. You managed to get away with unacceptable behavior this time." He sighed. "Pass me a tart."
Julia did as he bid her to do and poured him a cup of tea. "I won't let it happen again, I promise. You're right! Mr. Sharn is wonderful, not at all puffed up. You might learn something from him. Please excuse me, Mr. Sharn, I must dress before the other guests arrive. My guardian is dreadfully stuffy." She peered at James with a half smile on her pretty face. The chit was trying his patience.
"Call me Glen."
"Thank you, Glen." With hardly a backward glance, she dashed out of the room. James would have sworn she swiped at tears.
"Don't ask me to help you marry her off." Glen pulled back from the table to rest his left foot on his right knee. "If you don't want her, I might be persuaded to consider the state of matrimony myself. Her blonde curls all blown around her face would fan out nicely on a pillow and all that energy in a bedroom. Why are you trying to get rid of her?"
"She's too young." James didn't like the direction of his friend's thoughts concerning Julia. Perhaps Glen was not the right man for her after all.
"It is you who are too old. You are an old dragon!"
"Nonsense." James straightened, changing the subject quickly more so to whip the amicable expression off his friend's face. Surely Glen was envisioning Julia doing who knows what in bed. "Did Mrs. Dalton show you your room?"
"In a way, your housekeeper told me where to find it when she passed through the kitchen. And that Ellis would show me. Didn't I usually stay in a room down from your room?"
"Yes, you did. But Julia has my old room."
Glen chuckled. "Is that what you've got against Lady Julia?"
"I don't have anything against her!" With effort he calmed his voice. "If
you don't need me, I'd better get dressed before the others arrive. Seems Aunt Shredda has left the hostess duties to Julia. The girl's too young. I'll have to do it."
"You might be surprised," Glen whispered.
James shook his head, thinking how Julia had surprised him ever since he returned home. He took the stairs two at a time, for she surely needed his support with the others, yet in breeches, she charmed Glen. How could she have taken Glen to the kitchen and twisted him around her little finger? Glen must have thought of her as a child. That wasn't true by the way Glen described her as a woman.
As James passed Julia's room he swung around and tapped at her door.
"Yes."
"It's me, Julia. Are you dressed? I will only take a minute of your time."
The door opened slowly as Julia peaked through the narrow opening. "You cannot come in, James."
"I just wanted to remind you that we need to host the party together. We can talk every evening about the next day's events."
Julia's eyebrows raised. "Not here."
"Of course not! We will meet in the library after our guests go to bed."
"How late will that be?"
"We can keep country hours. I guess about midnight will be late enough."
"I do not think it will be necessary, but if it will keep the fire breather calm, I'll agree."
"Good. I will expect you at midnight in the library. Incidentally, Julia, I want to remind you, again, that the dragon lived only in my grandmother's imagination." He turned and stomped away.
When he heard her door slam, he knew with a feeling of satisfaction that she heard him. Devil a bit! The little minx thinks she can handle men. We will see about that.
The memory of their kiss flitted through his mind. When he kissed her she turned soft and alluring in his arms. Julia could not bewitch him with her maidenly ploys, probably taught to her by Aunt Shredda. The loveable, but shrewd old woman wanted to drive him into a feisty minx's arms. Well, no cunning army man would ever be caught in such an obvious trap. Certainly not Jameson Craigh, Earl of Hawkthorn!
