by Aria Norton
The noise around them faded, and Juliana became aware that some of the couples had gone inside. If she listened, she could hear music and she knew the next dance was starting. Her dance card was deliberately empty – she had accepted no dance with anyone.
She wasn’t interested in anyone else.
“Yes. Listen…the next dance is starting,” she said, gesturing towards the hall, where sweet music was flowing out. She recognised it as a waltz and unconsciously tapped time with her foot.
“Should we go in?” Lord Cale asked after a long moment. “You seem as if you want to dance a measure.”
“Oh, no,” Juliana grinned dreamily and looked up at him. “I don’t – I just can’t keep still,” she giggled. Sometimes she wished she could be less lively, and just stand still and be calmer.
“You know I love your liveliness,” Lord Cale said. He spoke so quietly that Juliana could almost have imagined he hadn’t talked. But she turned and gaped at him, not quite able to believe what she had heard.
“Well…” she said, trying to gain her equilibrium, “I rather like yours too.”
She spoke in a rush, feeling more awkward than she had ever felt in her life. She looked out at the garden, not wanting to risk looking at his face and seeing his response. When she looked back up at him, she was amazed to see him smiling.
“That’s something I would never have expected to hear.” His voice was low and warm, and he sounded truly moved by it.
Gently, he bent over and his lips brushed her face. It was the briefest gesture, but it made her blood pound. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, eyes sparkling.
They were still looking at each other when the dance ended and the couples inside applauded each other, the sound distant and muted by the space. Julia became hazily aware of the present, of the terrace, and of everything else that was not the blue lakes of Cale’s eyes.
He grinned and it seemed as if he’d become aware of everything at the same moment. He bowed low, though there was no real call for the formality, and offered her his elbow.
“Shall we go inside?” he asked. “I suppose the next dance is starting, and we could dance that?”
Juliana chuckled, “I would like to dance it, yes. It’s a gavotte.”
“Oh! Something energetic! That’s grand.”
They were both still laughing as they walked back into the hall together.
In the hall, Juliana scanned the floor, looking for a head of dark curls. Emmie had been talking to Jessica, one of their friends, last time she had seen her. Now, she had trouble spotting them. After a moment, she caught sight of them on the other side of the hall. She was with their mother, who was talking to a tall man with sandy hair. Juliana frowned as their mother gestured to Emmie, who curtseyed gracefully. The man bowed.
Looks like they are being introduced to one another.
Juliana felt a smile lift the corners of her mouth, and felt pleased for her sister. The man looked interesting – tall, with well-cut features and that pale hair that was quite striking. She thought she recognised him, but they were too far away and the lighting too bad to be able to see him properly, apart from his posture and the colour of his hair. He was too proper for Juliana’s taste; she knew that even at this distance. She liked men with more character – like Lord Cale.
He felt her gaze on him and bowed low. “Shall we dance, My Lady?” he asked.
Juliana nodded, giggling at his formal inquiry, eyes glinting at her even as he made it. She curtseyed, still chuckling at his antics, and took his hand in her own.
“Why not?” she asked.
They were both still laughing as they went out onto the dancefloor together.
Chapter 4
“Emmeline?” Lady Baxter whispered. “Come here, if you please?”
Emmeline frowned. She looked about the ballroom for Jules, but she couldn’t see her. Her mother was looking at her expectantly, and she stepped away from the group and went to stand by the door.
“What is it, Mama…?” she asked. Her mother’s blue eyes were sparkling and Emmeline felt her own heart flutter.
“That gentleman,” her mother whispered, “the one who just introduced himself to you. He’s Lord Thomas, son of the Duke of Amery. He is…extremely important. His father is acquainted with the Regent himself,” she gushed.
“Mother…?” Emmeline felt a little faint. Her mother was excited about this new acquaintance in a way she had never seen her before. She felt her stomach tie itself in knots.
He is a duke’s son, which means Mama will approve. And he is…handsome.
She blushed just thinking about it. She recalled the moment when she’d stood on Lord Thomas’ foot and their eyes had met and held. She felt her blush deepen. She’d stood on the foot of one of the most influential peers in the realm! She giggled. Juliana would be laughing aloud if she knew!
“What?” her mother asked, noticing her smile.
“Oh, nothing, Mama,” she said hastily. She wasn’t about to tell her that story!
“You needn’t be shy, child,” her mother said gently. “I know you will do all that should be done.”
“What must I do?” she asked.
“Oh! Be sweet, be charming…I know you can do it, Emmeline.” She beamed at her. “You’re a dear child.”
Emmeline felt her heart warm at her mother’s praise. She sometimes felt guilty that her reticent nature was praised. Juliana’s headstrong nature often got her into trouble. Their father adored Juliana, though, and Emmeline hoped that Juliana thought that made up for it.
“Thank you, Mama,” she said politely. “Did he wish to dance with me?”
“Um, yes,” her mother said, and she looked a little awkward. Emmeline frowned.
“What is it, Mama?” she asked. “You can tell me.”
“Well…he actually asked to dance with Juliana. But, of course, he is also very happy to dance with you, my dearest,” her mother said, patting her hand fondly.
“Oh,” Emmie said. She felt her heart twist a little painfully at that: Juliana was exciting and vibrant and she sometimes wished that she could be more like that, however much trouble her sister got into. At the same time, though, she loved her sister so dearly that she couldn’t begrudge her the attention she attracted.
She smiled at her mother. “Of course, Mama,” she said happily.
“Capital,” her mother said – a word she rarely used.
She really was excited about this acquaintance.
Emmeline went back to join her friends, her stomach tying itself in knots. She was excited about getting to know the noble duke’s son – whether or not he preferred Juliana to her.
And I can’t wait to tell Jules about this! She will laugh so much when she hears whose foot I stood on.
She was trying to find her way through the crowd when Lord Thomas found her. He bowed low.
“Lady Emmeline. I am honored to claim you for this dance.”
“Thank you,” Emmeline said, and curtseyed low.
He seemed so formal, she thought – so proper. What hid underneath those courtly manners?
She studied him from the corner of one eye as they walked to the dance-floor together. He was certainly good-looking, with a long, straight nose, blonde hair, hazel eyes and an oval face. She hadn’t decided about his character yet, though.
He seems very reserved, and a little snobbish.
She watched him walking past people almost as if he couldn’t see them. Either he thought he was better than everyone, or he was just shy.
The music was starting and she hastily took his hand, feeling a tingle up her arm as she did so. She had danced at balls a hundred times, yet when he put his hand on her waist to lead her in the waltz, it felt oddly different. She blushed, and felt shy in a way she never had before.
The music started. They danced, and she thought he was a good dancer. The music was light and he was sure on his feet, and they glided about the hall together. She found her mind wandering,
the music capturing her interest.
“You’re lost in thought,” he murmured, as they made another circuit of the hall.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I am.”
He smiled and the smile was bland enough that she couldn’t decide if it was a mocking smile or if he was being friendly.
I still have no idea about him. He’s like a book I can’t open.
It was frustrating.
The music reached a close and they stopped. He bowed and she curtseyed. She turned away, about to leave the dance floor, but he rested a hand on her arm to stop her.
“You enjoyed the music?” he asked. “It was unusual.”
“Yes. It was by the composer Clementi.”
“Oh yes?” He sounded interested. Emmeline felt her heart thump. Was he also interested in music? She was about to ask him another question when her mother appeared, a big smile on her gentle features.
“Emmeline, my dear! You do cut a fine figure on the dancefloor. And you, My Lord, do extremely well.”
Emmeline felt awkward, but Lord Thomas bowed politely.
“Thank you, My Lady.”
“Now, I had wished to ask your opinion about the artwork there,” Lady Baxter said, gesturing at a painting on the rear wall that Emmeline hadn’t noticed. “It’s said to be by Holbein, but I think it cannot be. Do you know aught about it?”
Emmeline watched her mother drag Lord Thomas off to look at the painting, and wondered why she was doing that. It was unlike her to pay such interest in one of her daughter’s acquaintances. She was busy watching them when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Emmie! What happened? Who was that?”
Emmeline blushed. It was Jules, who looked flushed and excited.
“You must recognise him, Jules,” Emmie said lightly. “It’s the fellow whose foot I stood on. Lord Thomas, honorary Viscount Loughton.”
“What?” Jules giggled, pressing her finger to her lips. “He’s someone important?”
“He’s the son of a duke,” Emmeline confessed.
“What? No!” Jules was laughing. “And you stood…on his foot…” she was shaking with laughter, making it difficult to talk. Emmeline grinned at her and drew her aside so that they were standing in an alcove. They laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks and suddenly the hurt about him preferring Jules meant nothing, and she felt happy.
Later, in the carriage, Emmeline leaned sleepily against the side window while the coach rattled off into the night. She and Jules were exhausted, but their mother was energised.
“Oh! Such a lovely evening! And Lord Thomas…he is such a lovely man. So knowledgeable! My dears, he is an excellent prospect.”
Emmeline frowned and she felt Jules dig her in the ribs and she stifled a giggle.
She felt sure that, now that the ball was over, that was the last they would be hearing about Lord Thomas.
Chapter 5
Thomas stood from the breakfast table, feeling restless. He looked across at Arnott, who was looking a little green about the gills.
“I cannot just leave matters standing, Arnott.”
His friend blinked sleepily, clearly feeling delicate, and winced. “Keep your voice down, will you, Thomas?” he asked in a loud whisper. “And remind me which matter we spoke of?”
Thomas sighed. Arnott always overdid the drink. He couldn’t help feeling compassion for him – he looked so ill this morning. He poured him more tea and leaned back in his chair again, struggling for calm.
“I mean the matter of Lady Juliana…I cannot just go back to town without doing something about it,” he said.
“Yes,” Arnott nodded. He looked at him expectantly.
“So?” Thomas asked irritably, reaching for toast. He felt ravenous this morning, and he also wanted to get out of the house and go for a ride.
This is so unlike me. Father’s insistence has finally made me lose my wits.
He had received another letter from his father – he’d barely read it, but knew it was full of admonishments to hurry up and wed.
“So?” Arnott repeated, bringing him back to the moment. “What are you going to do about it?”
Thomas sighed again, and bit into his toast, thinking carefully. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and that was to pursue Lady Juliana. He knew it was rash, but he wanted to call on her today. Her mother had been a little cagey the previous evening, and that bothered him. He wished to know what it was that bothered her, and to know as soon as possible.
At least if I have no chance with Juliana, I can return to town.
It would not be too terrible to get out of Arnott’s uncle’s house and back to the spacious townhouse he so missed.
“I think,” he said, swallowing the remains of the toast, “that I want to call on her.”
“Well then?” Arnott said. “Off you go. It’s a good morning.”
“And you?” Thomas asked, putting his napkin aside and standing up.
“I, Thomas, will go back to bed,” Arnott said mildly. “My head is aching and I wish to catch up on some sleep. Wake me if you get here before lunch?”
Thomas chuckled, “Of course, old friend.”
Soon, he was off, riding through the countryside.
He watched the trees and cottages flash past and found himself wondering what Juliana would think of London. He thought that the girls had spent most of their lives in the countryside and he found it hard to imagine forthright and direct Juliana facing down the Ton.
They would hate her. She would hate them.
He smiled to himself. That might be no bad thing.
It would certainly make life exciting.
His heart was thumping as he drew up outside Baxter House, and he felt invigorated and awake.
“Good morning,” he greeted the butler cheerily as he opened up the door. “I am Lord Thomas, honorary Viscount Loughton. I am here to call on Lady Baxter and her daughters. Here is my card,” he added, fumbling in the pocket of his riding-coat. He passed the paper square to the man.
“I’ll announce you, My Lord,” the butler said. He shot Thomas a suspicious look and shut the door.
It’s ten o’ clock in the morning. It’s not too early to call.
Thomas felt a little defensive, and also a little nervous. He felt his hand fiddling with his cravat, and forced himself to stand with his hands at his sides. He didn’t want to look awkward.
“Please come in,” the butler said, standing back politely. He was noticeably more friendly, and Thomas wondered why. “Lady Baxter will receive you in the drawing room upstairs. Follow me?”
Thomas nodded, passed the man his hat and coat, and then went up the stairs.
“Lord Thomas!” Lady Baxter said, dropping an elaborate curtsey. “What a delightful visit! Mrs. Haywell…fetch tea, if you please. You will take tea with us, I think?” she asked, looking at him with those pale eyes.
“Um, yes.” Thomas felt uncomfortable. “I would like that. Good morning, ladies,” he added, feeling terribly self-conscious as he bowed low. Lady Juliana and Lady Emmeline flanked their mother – one dressed in a muslin dress with a red pattern, the other in cream. He didn’t know them well enough yet to guess who was who.
