Caro smiled, and silence held them for a bit as they finished their tea.
Setting her cup back on the tray, Caroline looked at Julia. “Now, would you like to walk, or would you rather rest?”
“Walk, please. I am not in the least tired, and would love to see a bit of the area. It has been years since I was last here.”
“Lady Farren says that it is becoming too crowded. You should see how she elbows lesser-ranked mortals out of her way in the Pump Room,” Caro said with a little laugh.
Sensing a lingering bitterness under her cousin’s light tone, Julia gave her an encouraging smile.
“I believe you are correct, Caro dear. We shall have a lovely time this summer,” she said to divert the conversation to more pleasant matters.
Caroline looked at Julia with an anxious frown. “You are not just saying that? After all, now that I am married, Mama would love to sponsor a proper come-out for you in London. The gossip about you is long past. I know she has written to tell you so.”
“Yes, Aunt Hyacinth has invited me to London, but I would much rather be here with you. Besides, if I ever saw the Duke of Kelbourne again, I might not be able to resist the urge to shoot him.”
Leaning against the back of the settee, Caroline laughed aloud. “We cannot have that! Much better that you are here with me.”
By Thursday, while preparing for her evening out, Julia decided that accepting Caro’s invitation had been a capital idea. Bath, being much larger than Chippenham, offered any number of amusing entertainments. Caro had taken her on several excursions around town, and Julia enjoyed browsing through establishments that boasted a wider array of goods than what she was accustomed to at home.
She had also met several of Caro’s friends and found that she liked her cousin’s husband more than she thought she would. Lord Farren was the epitome of politeness, and cut quite a dashing figure with his tall, slim figure and boyish shock of blond hair.
He had apologized profusely at dinner the first night for not being there to greet her when she arrived.
“You see, my mother has been unwell, and she quite depends on me to attend her occasionally,” he had explained with an offhand air.
Julia had dismissed his concern and assured him that she understood. But she noticed the harried glances he often threw to Caro and wondered if her cousin’s husband was more aware of his wife’s ire than he let on.
A knock at the door interrupted her reflections, and Harper, her maid, entered. She carried a gown draped across her outstretched arms.
“The creases came out completely, miss,” Harper stated with satisfaction as she laid the rose pink evening dress across the bed.
Turning sideways on her vanity chair, Julia was pleased to see the silk was indeed void of wrinkles. It was one of her favorite gowns, and she loved the dozens of seed pearls embroidered into the little puffed sleeves. She felt the gown gave her an air of elegance, and had decided earlier that it would be the perfect choice to make her first appearance in Bath society.
She smiled at the maid in appreciation. “Thank you, Harper.”
Turning back to the mirror, she picked up a pair of seed pearl earbobs and affixed them to her lobes. Harper went to the wardrobe on the other side of the pretty, spacious bedchamber and began collecting the slippers, shawl, and reticule to complete Julia’s ensemble.
“I hope I am not in danger of being late.” Julia took a piece of chamois and carefully dipped it into a little pot of finely milled French powder and pressed it to her nose and forehead.
“No, miss, you have time enough to get ready at your leisure,” Harper said as she finished laying out the accessories.
Julia did take her time with her toilette. A little while later, when she was dressed and Harper was putting the final touches on her upswept hair, Julia was quite satisfied with her appearance.
After bidding farewell to her maid, she left the bedchamber to meet her cousin in the foyer. She was giving her gloves a last tug when she heard the deep tones of a masculine voice.
Looking down into the foyer below, Julia was surprised to see Lord Farren, resplendent in evening dress, waiting with his wife. Caro looked up and smiled her delight at Julia.
“Look! My Lord Farren has decided to escort us this evening! Is that not gallant of him?”
With an answering smile, Julia completed her descent. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could not help noticing Lord Farren’s flushed cheeks as he greeted her. His wife’s profuse praise had embarrassed him, she surmised with secret amusement.
“I shall be lauded the luckiest fellow in Bath to be in the company of two Incomparables,” he stated.
Julia curtsied in response to his compliment. The butler then made the pronouncement that the carriage had been brought around.
Following Caro and Clive out to the front steps, Julia felt her pulse begin to quicken. She had to admit that she was rather excited at the prospect of dancing in a ballroom. The assemblies and impromptu dances in Chippenham were smallish affairs, and she had not been in London long enough to attend any large parties, so this evening would be a new experience.
Settling in across from the Farrens as the coach set off, Julia smiled as Caro chattered away. It was obvious that she was inordinately pleased with her husband’s company. Julia was happy for her cousin and hoped that this would be the beginning of a new closeness for the newly wed couple.
Some minutes later, Julia looked out the window, and saw a line of carriages pulling up to the elegant, understated entryway of the establishment. Despite her impatience, she resisted the urge to get out and walk the rest of the way. From her short acquaintance with Lord Farren, she knew he was a high stickler when it came to the niceties.
By the time a lackey opened the coach door, Julia and Caro were both tapping their feet with eagerness.
When they all had exited the carriage, Lord Farren offered each lady an arm and escorted them through the entryway and into the anteroom. Once there, Julia took in the other guests. The chatter and the array of finery on display added to her feeling of excited anticipation. As the three of them inched their way closer to the doors leading to the ballroom, numerous people greeted Lord and Lady Farren.
Putting her hand to her brow for a moment, Julia looked around in growing concern. She was beginning to feel a bit oppressed by the crush surging toward the ballroom. But once in, the room seemed to open up before her and was less crowded. Relieved, she glanced around the immense oblong space. Instantly, she was impressed with the ballroom’s size and design. Graceful Corinthian-style pilasters lined the walls, as if upholding them. Her eyes traveled upward to the five superb chandeliers hanging from the coved ceiling, their countless candles casting a festive glow over the assemblage.
Again, a current of excitement raced up her arms as she gazed at her impressive surroundings. The prospect of being somewhere new and in different company added to her pleasure.
“If you will notice behind you, there is a recessed loft for the musicians.” Lord Farren directed her attention to a semicircular alcove set high above the dancers.
“How clever and elegantly done,” Julia said.
Moving farther into the room behind Caro, Julia saw that although there was a predominance of older people, there did seem to be enough younger people to keep the evening from becoming dull.
Almost at once, other guests came forward and surrounded them. Soon, Julia was being introduced to so many people, she knew she would never be able to recall all their names.
There was little time to converse, for at that moment the Master of Ceremonies was arranging to lead the highest-ranking lady onto the floor. Caro diverted Julia’s attention by leaning up to her and whispering from behind her fan. “Every unattached gentleman in the room is casting his eyes your way—and a few of the married ones, too.”
Julia’s face remained impassive. Using the guise of readjusting her shawl, she surreptitiously glanced around the crowded room. Somewhat to h
er surprise, there were several gentlemen looking in her direction.
“You may be right, but unfortunately, most of them are at least two inches shorter than I,” she whispered back.
“Oh, you may scoff, but by the end of the evening you will be the rage of Bath.”
Before Julia could respond to this prediction, Lord Farren stepped forward to claim his wife’s hand. “Come, Caroline, we are to make up the numbers.”
Hastily, Caro introduced Julia to a Mrs. Crowley, before happily going off with her husband.
Soaring music of a lively country dance filled the expanse as Julia stood with Mrs. Crowley, an agreeable young matron, exchanging pleasantries and watching the dancers perform the figures.
From the corner of her eye, her attention was caught by a familiar female figure weaving her way through the throng toward her. Julia’s heart sank. She was not surprised to see Harriett March; she knew the widow had relatives in Bath. But she was surprised the widow would approach her. Mrs. March, an attractive woman a few years older than she, had never been very friendly. And since Julia’s unexplained return from London last year, the widow had not been shy in publicly questioning the reason Julia had not stayed in London.
There seemed to be no way of avoiding this unappealing encounter.
“La, but I thought my eyes had hoaxed me! It is Miss Julia Allard. Fancy seeing you here in Bath.”
Julia turned and looked down upon the fair-haired woman. “Good evening, Mrs. March.”
“What brings you here to Bath, Miss Allard? Alas, this sedate town has always been a favored spot for young ladies to live down a scandal. But, of course, I am sure that is not why you have come to Bath,” she ended with a titter, flipping her fan open with a snap.
Pausing to collect her composure, Julia forced herself to smile at the petite, blond woman. Aware that Mrs. Crowley was attending the conversation, she spoke in even tones.
“I am visiting my cousin, Lady Farren.” Maybe if she refused to respond to the baiting, the dreadful woman would go away.
“Lady Farren? I do not believe I have had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.” Mrs. March’s eyes took on a gleam of interest at the mention of a title.
The contredanse ended, and Clive and Caro returned to Julia’s side. She introduced Mrs. March to her relatives. Her manner was so formal, Caro immediately surmised that the widow was not someone with which Julia wished to associate.
Although she did not give her the cut direct, Caro replied to Mrs. March in such cool tones that soon the widow all but flounced off. After that, friends on the other side of the room hailed Mrs. Crowley, giving Julia a moment’s privacy with her cousin.
“What is the issue with the pretty little widow?”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Ever since I came home from London last spring, she has not ceased prodding me about it. She just hinted that I had come to Bath to escape a scandal.”
“Oh no,” Caro said, a worried frown beginning to form on her brow.
Julia certainly did not want her cousin to think her enjoyment of the evening was dampened. “I do not give a fig what Widow March says. Women like her thrive on vicious gossip. Let us not give her another thought.”
Caro’s smile was a little uncertain as she nodded in agreement. At that moment Clive returned. By his side was a handsome gentleman who folded himself into a flourishing bow before Julia.
Julia looked from the gentleman to Clive in some surprise.
“Miss Allard, this is Mr. Dillingham, a friend of mine from school days.”
“How do you do, Mr. Dillingham,” Julia said as the man unfolded himself.
“Very well, Miss Allard. I understand from Lord Farren that you are from Chippenham, and shall be in Bath for some time.” His intense, pale blue eyes had not left hers since he had risen from his bow.
“Your information is correct, sir.”
“And are you finding Bath to your liking?”
“Indeed, I am.” Julia had the distinct urge to laugh at the intensity of Mr. Dillingham’s gaze, but managed to suppress everything but a smile. In truth, he was a handsome, refined-looking gentleman, and she was feminine enough to feel gratified by his regard.
“Ah, the opening strains of the Devonshire minuet,” he pronounced, glancing up at the orchestra. “Miss Allard, would you do me the honor?”
His expression was so hopeful, so earnest, she would not have dreamed of declining him. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Dillingham.”
As he led her to the floor, they moved past Mrs. March. Julia swiftly looked away, but not before catching the ill-tempered, narrowed-eyed look the widow gave her.
Even here in Bath, she could not escape the damage that cursed kiss had caused her, she thought with a flash of anger as she took her place next to Mr. Dillingham. Would she ever be free of that dashed duke’s licentious act?
Chapter Five
T hat evening, the Duke of Kelbourne found himself looking down at a pair of deuces held casually in his left hand. His right hand caressed a stack of gold coins as he glanced up at his fellow gamblers lounging around the table, his expression impassive.
They were a dashed cautious lot, he mused, stifling a yawn.
In spite of his lowly deuces, he was confident that he would come out the winner of this hand, too. But this thought did not give him the usual thrill—the four other gamblers gave themselves away with various tics and quirks when they had a good hand. He had found little sport this eve.
Though his boredom grew with each hand, he did not intend to end his participation in this low-stakes game.
“Heh, heh. Let’s see, my turn, gentlemen?” asked Sir Bartholomew.
Kelbourne looked over at the heavyset man and mentally sighed again. This really was becoming too easy: the heh, hehs were a sure indication that Sir Bartholomew had a bad hand.
Even so, Kel hoped the other gentlemen would oblige him by playing into the wee hours.
It was astonishing to him that a house as large as the one his mother and grandmother occupied could feel so confining.
Shifting, he slid lower in his chair, crossed his legs at the ankles, and continued to mull over the mess of his domestic situation. He had the time, for Sir Bartholomew would agonize for some minutes before making his play.
Kel wondered what maggot in his brain had convinced him that he should come to Bath in the first place. In spite of Emmaline’s plea, he should have stayed at the Keep or gone to London.
For some reason, neither of these options had appealed to him. But a week caught in the middle of the sniping and petty bickering of his mother and grandmother was more than enough to set his nerves afray.
If his relatives’ behavior was not trying enough, there was Bath itself to add to his mounting list of annoyances.
He certainly admired the aesthetics of the town. With its impressive crescents and scenic parades, Bath appeared all that was civilized and elegant. But he found it a deadly dull place for any sort of amusement. And the town was teeming with cits and doddering dowagers.
Earlier that day, when old Major Collings had timorously invited Kel to his home for a few hands of cards, the duke’s boredom had lifted. Finally, a bit of action! And a perfect excuse to beg off escorting his mother and sister to the parched insipidness of the Upper Rooms.
But his evening had turned out to be more gossip than gaming.
Gad. Kel stifled a yawn and rolled his shoulder. He’d been still for so long, he was growing stiff.
His attention was caught by an odd sound emanating from the other side of the table. Glancing up, he was met with the sight of Mr. Bostock’s numerous chins quivering like a pudding from his snores.
His host behaved as if this was all quite commonplace and only spared a quick glance at the clock on the mantel. “It is almost half past ten, gentlemen. Last hand?”
Kel’s only show of surprise was a quickly subdued quirk of his brow. If he were in London, or anywhere else for that matter, the evening would just be i
n bud.
This was it. Let Maman and Grandmère cut each other to shreds with their rapier wits. He was done shielding both of them. He would have his bags packed and be on his way to Kelbourne Keep before breakfast was over. As the game concluded, Mr. Bostock awoke with a snorting start and expressed surprise that it had gotten so late.
After winning the last hand, Kel rose and made his farewells. Once Major Collings had seen him to the door with the usual pleasantries, and the groom had brought around his horse, Kel decided to take a circuitous route back to the Royal Crescent.
Setting his bay to a slow canter, he left the lane and turned onto Alfred Street. The evening air felt cool and bracing against his face. He was wideawake and restless. The moon, which was near full and bright, gave him an idea. If he rode around town long enough, mayhap the rest of the household would be asleep when he returned. It was worth the extra distance.
He was approaching the elegant south exterior of the Upper Rooms and saw a number of carriages waiting in the forecourt. Realizing it was near eleven o’clock, he knew the assembly would have concluded, thus creating this mass exodus. In London, if he found himself forced to visit Almack’s, he made it a point never to enter before five minutes to eleven. This habit vexed Sally Jersey, who took her role as a patroness seriously. He grinned a little, recalling how she never failed to take him to task for almost being late. Mayhap I shall go to London.
As he drew even with the entrance to the Rooms, he glanced over to make sure he was in no danger of colliding with a carriage merging onto the street. Framed by a glow radiating from the room behind, he saw two women stepping from the columned entryway. One of the young ladies was much taller than the other. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to her upswept hair, which glowed pale gold in the moonlight.
Swiftly, he pulled his bay to a prancing stop. Thunderstruck, he stared as the tall young lady followed the other into the interior of a carriage.
He watched the conveyance pull forward onto the lane. It made a wide turn and rolled past him down Alfred Street.
Kel knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had just seen the young woman he had insulted last spring. And by her attire, he had been wrong in his assumption that she was a maid.
The Wagered Heart: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) Page 5
