Juliana

by Lauren Royal

  “I’m giving her lessons as well,” Juliana explained. “In being more ladylike. An outing like this can be very instructional.”

  His jaw looked rigid. “Surely she won’t be bringing that snake.”

  Emily stopped twirling. “If Herman doesn’t go, I don’t go.”

  “That’s fine by me,” James said.

  He seemed more unhappy than ever. Concerned, Juliana laid a hand on his arm and lowered her voice. “James, do you not like children?”

  When he glanced down at her hand, she gasped and snatched it away, surprised at herself. Though she wore gloves, and his arm was sleeved, it wasn’t proper to be touching him.

  But the look on his face was troubling. Amanda definitely wanted children—children not fathered by a by-blow, to be precise—and surely her partner should want them, too.

  “Of course I like children,” James said. “I vaccinate children every day at the Institute.”

  “Of course,” she echoed, relieved. She should have realized that. “Amanda is good with children,” she told him, remembering how well Amanda had handled Emily that day she’d bled.

  Motioning for him to follow, she stepped farther away from the little girl.

  “I know you’re worried that some patrons of the shops might be upset by Emily’s snake,” she said quietly. “But that’s the whole idea, don’t you see? She needs to learn that it’s not ladylike to carry a snake, and the only way to teach her is by demonstration. Once she’s convinced that Herman’s presence causes trouble, she’ll realize she should leave him at home.”

  “I see,” he said tightly.

  They headed outside to where James’s carriage was waiting. It was splendid—all polished rosewood and rich green velvet—and the pair of matched bays drawing it were gorgeous animals.

  Juliana meant to sit beside Aunt Frances, but somehow she ended up beside James instead. Aunt Frances sat opposite James, with Emily catercorner from him. When he squished himself into the corner, as far away from Juliana as possible, she supposed that was to make sure he wouldn’t touch her inadvertently.

  But then somehow he kept touching her anyway.

  During the drive to Pall Mall, he touched her three times on the arm, in the bare area between where her short puffed sleeve ended and her short white glove began. The touches were all accidental and innocent, of course, but the little jolt she felt every time was…well, not bothersome exactly, but distracting. Or invigorating in an odd sort of way.

  She simply wasn’t used to being touched by young men. Mourning had kept her and her sisters hidden away so long, Juliana was probably the oldest unkissed girl in all of England.

  Well, except for Amanda. And maybe Aunt Frances.

  In any case, the sensation was new and intriguing, most especially because it was James doing the touching. If she found it this exciting to be touched by James, how must it feel with someone she actually cared for? Why, being touched by the duke must be twice as thrilling! Ten times, even! He was, after all, her ideal match.

  But despite two social calls in two days, the duke hadn’t touched her since they’d danced at the ball. Which didn’t count, because he hadn’t touched her bare skin. He hadn’t even kissed her gloved hand. He respected her too much to do any such thing. He was as proper and reserved as Amanda.

  But he definitely wasn’t stuffy.

  Aunt Frances was so anxious to order her dresses, Juliana decided they should do that first. Mrs. Huntley sighed when she saw Emily and her snake again, but after all, Juliana and Amanda had ordered a lot of dresses, and no shopkeeper would turn away that sort of business. So she pressed her thin lips together and pulled out her measuring tape.

  “Sit over there, Emily,” Juliana instructed, waving her toward where two chairs sat against a wall. “And James, you sit beside her. When you visit the shops with a lady, you must wait patiently until she’s finished.”

  “I’ll wait outside,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t do that if you wish to please Lady Amanda. A man should appear interested in a lady’s purchases.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, heading toward the door.

  “It’s raining out there,” she reminded him.

  “I won’t melt.”

  True to his word, James didn’t melt. It took so long to order Aunt Frances’s dresses that it had stopped raining by the time the ladies joined him outside. And he certainly didn’t look melted—in fact, he looked frozen solid.

  “Where to now?” he asked grimly.

  “I believe you should send Lady Amanda some flowers.” Juliana indicated a florist’s shop across the street, and they all started toward it.

  “Send red roses,” Emily suggested beside him. “My mother loved red roses.”

  “Red roses it is, then.” He crossed to Juliana’s other side and took her left arm. When she glanced up at him, startled, he said, “A gentleman should escort a lady across the street.”

  “Excellent,” she said, pleased with his progress. “That’s very gallant. But I don’t think red roses would be appropriate. They symbolize love, and it’s a little too soon for that. You wouldn’t want to appear too forward. Pink or yellow would be perfect.”

  James’s arm felt solid beneath hers, and she was aware of their contact all the way into the shop. When they entered, a woman shrieked and ran past them out the door. Three other patrons left directly, muttering to one another.

  The florist was a tall, thin man with a long, narrow nose and eyes that glared at Emily. “Take that snake outside, miss.”

  Emily stroked Herman. “Snakes don’t eat flowers, Mr. Flower-Man. Only frogs and mice.”

  Aunt Frances took Emily outside, and James ordered an arrangement of two dozen pink roses. Quickly.

  Back outdoors, the people walking along Pall Mall were giving Emily and Herman a wide berth, and there was a lot of “Well!” and “I never!” to be heard.

  “She should have left that snake at home,” James said.

  “She will next time, I’m sure.” Juliana offered him her left arm again, thinking some more practice in escorting ladies might be appropriate.

  “Where are we going now?” Emily asked beside him.

  He crossed to Juliana’s other side and took her right arm instead.

  Juliana suspected he was impatient. “Harding, Howell and Company,” she decided. Down the street just a bit, Harding, Howell & Company was a big department store that took up all the floors of an old mansion that used to be called Schomberg House. Perhaps James would be happier if they could find the rest of Amanda’s presents all in one place. “You don’t enjoy shops very much, do you?” she asked as they began walking.

  He shrugged. ”I’m a man.”

  She’d noticed. She’d walked arm in arm with other ladies before, but this felt entirely different. It wasn’t like the jolts she’d experienced when he’d touched her arm in the carriage, but more of a tingly awareness all over her body. It rather stole one’s breath. Amanda was going to love it.

  Aunt Frances and Emily walked in front of them, the two of them getting farther and farther ahead. People were crossing the street to avoid them. “We should catch up,” Juliana said.

  James didn’t change his pace. “I believe a gentleman should walk leisurely with a lady, to accommodate her shorter stride.”

  “That’s considerate,” she allowed. “You really are quite an apt pupil, James.”

  He tipped his hat to her.

  “I’m famished,” Emily announced the moment they stepped through Harding, Howell & Company’s grand mahogany double doors. “May we visit Mr. Cosway’s Breakfast Room?”

  “It’s not breakfast time,” James said. “In fact, it’s past luncheon.”

  Juliana laughed. “Mr. Cosway’s Breakfast Room serves refreshments all day long.” Located on the floor above, the restaurant offered wines, teas, coffee, and sweetmeats. “Have you never been here before, James?”

  “I’m a man,” he said.


  The department store was patronized mostly by women. Juliana hadn’t ever noticed that before, but she did now. Especially because a good number of the women were emitting little squeals and hiding behind the delicate pieces of furniture that were on display.

  Emily started up the wide staircase with Herman and Aunt Frances. When Juliana went to follow them, James held her back. “She really should leave that snake at home,” he said once Emily was out of earshot.

  Juliana was getting a bit tired of hearing that. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “I’m a man,” he said again, and she laughed.

  Upstairs, Mr. Cosway’s Breakfast Room had a glorious view over St. James’s Park to Westminster and the Surrey hills beyond. Aunt Frances and Emily were already seated across from each other at a table for four. Juliana slid into the chair beside Aunt Frances, but James just stood there, more frozen than the ice cream in the restaurant’s glass display case.

  And that’s when Juliana realized the truth: he didn’t want to sit beside Emily. Or walk beside Emily. Or have anything to do with Emily—at least not while she was holding a snake.

  Though it wasn’t very kind or ladylike, Juliana couldn’t help herself. A little smile quirked her lips. A snigger escaped. And finally—inevitably—she burst into laughter.

  NINETEEN

  “YOU-YOU-YOU’RE afraid of Herman!” Juliana hiccuped from laughing so hard. “Don’t tell me you’re not.”

  James felt heat creep up his neck and into his face. He’d never seen a lady quite so consumed by hilarity. Especially at his expense.

  Every diner in Mr. Cosway’s Breakfast Room was staring at them, and he wasn’t sure whether that was because of Emily’s snake or Juliana’s hiccups. Either way, it was embarrassing, possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.

  Juliana thought him laughable.

  But he couldn’t deny her accusation. “Deathly afraid,” he confirmed with as much dignity as he could muster. “I was bitten by an adder at the age of seven.”

  “Oh, my,” Juliana said, covering her mouth. “That must have been dreadful.”

  “Very. It was quite painful, and my ankle swelled up horribly, and I was consumed by fever.” He had also cast up his accounts several times, but he wouldn’t say so in the presence of ladies. “I should never want to encounter such a thing again,” he added, scowling at the thing around Emily’s shoulders.

  “But Herman isn’t an adder,” Emily said, lifting the loathsome, scaly body over her head and holding it up, evidently to give James a better look. ”He’s a grass snake. He doesn’t have any poison, and he doesn’t bite.”

  James was well aware of that—‘know thy enemy,’ after all. He knew that adders were the only venomous snakes found in England, and that this specimen was quite obviously not an adder. It was too long and slender and had different markings. James’s fear of it was completely irrational, and he’d be the first to acknowledge that fact.

  But that didn’t mean he was going anywhere near the blasted thing.

  Even now, though he stood a good six feet away, the sight of it made his pulse feel thready and his insides clench. If Emily came any closer, he feared he might cast up his accounts right here in Harding, Howell & Company’s froufrou little restaurant.

  He glanced over to see that Juliana was no longer laughing, but instead was watching him closely. So closely he had a funny feeling she was peering right through his skin to glimpse his churning stomach and his pounding heart. To glimpse just how pathetic he was. Too weak to conquer his ridiculous fear of a child’s harmless pet.

  “He’s very nice,” the child was saying. She made to rise from her chair. “You can pet him…”

  James meant to move away, but his stomach began to rebel—

  Suddenly Juliana pushed back from the table, making a loud screech. “I’ve just realized I’m not hungry,” she announced.

  “But I am!” Emily plopped back onto her chair.

  Juliana turned to her with a bright smile. “You can stay here with Aunt Frances while Lord Stafford and I finish our shopping.”

  Lady Frances frowned. “Shouldn’t I accompany the two of you?”

  “No, Auntie, you can stay with Emily. We’re in a public place, surrounded by dozens of people, and we shan’t be gone long.” With that, Juliana placed her arm in James’s and marched him away. He looked back to see Lady Frances humming to herself while one of her charges left alone with an unmarried man and the other cradled a reptilian menace.

  As he walked, James was taking deep, slow breaths to calm his stomach. He wasn’t certain, but he thought Juliana might have just saved him from utter humiliation and infamy.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly as they headed down the staircase. “You must think me a coward.”

  “Don’t be silly. We all have our fears.”

  He doubted that. “What’s yours, then?”

  “Blood,” she said without hesitation. “I would make a terrible doctor. And unlike you, I don’t have a legitimate reason for my fear. No traumatizing bloody events in my childhood.”

  She laughed, but this time it was at herself, not him. Which made all the difference.

  Which made him like her even more.

  “Lady Amanda isn’t afraid of blood,” she informed him. “I should think you’d be pleased to know that, since I expect it’s an important attribute for a physician’s wife.”

  “I don’t think that really matters,” he told her. It certainly wasn’t on his list of wifely requirements. Not that he was looking for a wife, anyway. He tightened his grip on Juliana’s arm, and she leaned closer to him. Even though it was cold and rainy outside, she seemed to smell of sunshine and flowers.

  “I think Lady Amanda would like a fan,” she said, guiding him past the glazed mahogany partition that separated the fur and fan departments.

  He didn’t want to buy Lady Amanda a fan, but he didn’t want to disappoint Juliana, either. And he especially didn’t want her to give up on their “lessons,” because she really was too good for stuffy Castleton. After the way she’d just come to James’s rescue, he felt even more strongly that he must spend as much time with her as possible—to keep her away from the duke, of course.

  So he bought a fan.

  “I think Lady Amanda would like gloves,” she said next. And although he didn’t want to buy gloves for Lady Amanda—although he didn’t want to buy anything for Lady Amanda—he dutifully paid for the lace pair she picked out.

  She thought Lady Amanda would like perfume, so they stopped by the perfumery department. She thought Lady Amanda would like candy, so they visited the confectioners. Soon he was burdened with bags and boxes.

  He’d always hated shopping, and he’d been extremely displeased when she’d chosen the shops for their first outing. But—besides the unfortunate snake incident—this day wasn’t turning out as badly as he’d anticipated. He rather enjoyed being gallant and saving Juliana from stuffy Castleton.

  Seeing that prig at her house earlier had made him grit his teeth.

  They were buying some fancy writing paper when Lady Frances and Emily sought them out. “Lady Juliana,” Emily said, “you are taking forever.”

  Looking startled, Juliana turned from the stationery counter. And the next thing she did was immediately move to put herself between Emily and James. He could have kissed her for that.

  Not that he’d actually kiss her, of course—that would be highly improper.

  But he wanted to.

  He did?

  He did. What did that mean?

  Perhaps it was just that he’d been without female companionship a long while. After all, he only wanted to kiss Juliana. It wasn’t as if he wanted to marry her. Even if he couldn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone since…well…

  Anyhow, it was a perfectly natural urge. It didn’t have to mean anything.

  “Goodness, Emily,” Juliana was saying, “you’re right. We have taken forever. In fact, we’ve taken so long that
Lord Stafford is going to be late for Parliament. We’ll have to take a hackney coach home so he can go there straightaway.”

  James might have been a coward, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew she’d said that to save him from riding with the thing in his carriage.

  He could have kissed her for that, too.

  TWENTY

  ALMOND MACAROONS

  Beat Whites of Eggs with salt until stiff, then add Almonds ground fine, Sugar and a bit of ground Rice. Put in little mounds and make flat on Paper, then add an Almond in each middle before baking in your oven.

  When I wish to see my husband amorous, I feed him these macaroons. They've never failed me yet.

  —Katherine, Countess of Greystone, 1763

  JULIANA PLACED little mounds of dough on a paper-lined baking tin, spacing them carefully while she hid a yawn. She’d been up since dawn. After spending the morning with Emily—who still refused to relinquish Herman—now she was making almond macaroons with Amanda.

  According to Chase family legend, the macaroons were supposed to make one—Juliana blushed to even think the word—amorous. Juliana planned to give some to James and tell him to eat them tomorrow, hoping they would make him act warmly toward Amanda at Lady Partridge’s ball later that evening. Since she wasn’t certain whether the macaroons needed to be made by the woman seeking attention—her grandmother, who’d penned the recipe, hadn’t been clear—she’d decided to ask for Amanda’s help just in case.

  “Put an almond in the center of each macaroon,” she said through another yawn.

  “That’s the third time you’ve yawned,” Amanda observed, plopping the nuts on top rather haphazardly. “Are you sleepy?”

  Juliana’s fourth yawn seemed to echo off the basement kitchen’s walls. “This week has been exhausting.”

  She’d been very busy since Monday’s visit to the Institute and Tuesday’s jaunt to the shops. Not only had she hosted another sewing party and spent all her free time stitching, but the duke had called on her every single day—though their visits were always brief, as she was forever running off to outings with James. The duke had danced with her twice at Almack’s on Wednesday night, and he said the nicest things to her. His attentiveness was encouraging, and she was certain it was only a matter of time before he asked for her hand. A perfect gentleman, he remained careful not to touch her, demonstrating the respect due a lady.