Juliette picked up a narrow piece of ivory lace ribbon and held it against the fabric. “This will be pretty.”
With only three weeks left until her due date, Amelia was putting in an order for a christening gown. Being out and about in her condition was impossible without receiving a great deal of frowns that were often followed by whispered comments, but Amelia detested the idea of staying in bed or remaining at home. She wanted to be active, and since Florian had welcomed this idea with the assurance that women in most cultures outside the western world made no extreme alterations to their lives when expecting, Amelia had decided that neither would she.
“I agree,” Amelia said in reference to Juliette’s choice.
The dressmaker proceeded to cut the trim while Juliette watched. An idea came to mind and she bit her lip, wondering whether or not to ask the woman for help. Considering how many people relied on the hospital, she decided she had to at least try. “I was wondering,” she began, then cleared her throat and raised her voice. “I’m hosting a fund-raiser in a couple of days to help the sick people of London. Would you by any chance be willing to donate an item for the auction?”
The dressmaker reached for a roll of fabric and paused. She considered a moment while Juliette held her breath. Finally, she smiled. “I have a gown in the back that one of my seamstresses made when I tested her skills for employment. You’re welcome to have it as long as you say where it came from.”
“Of course.” Juliette thanked the woman profusely and left the shop with a new thrill of excitement. She would visit other businesses after seeing Amelia safely home and hopefully procure additional items of interest to the fund-raiser attendees.
“I know you have lots of energy, Julie, but can you please walk a bit slower?” Amelia asked as they headed toward Coventry House.
“Oh! Of course.” Juliette deliberately slowed her pace and glanced at her sister. “How are you feeling?”
“I am more than ready to deliver this baby. My back has been aching for weeks at this point and there is something troubling about not being able to reach my feet.”
Juliette smiled. “It will be wonderful to meet your son or daughter.”
“Thomas will be a father again while I shall become a mother of a child I delivered myself. I am still not completely used to the idea.”
“According to Gabriella, you will be the moment you hold your baby in your arms.”
They turned onto Picadilly and Amelia linked her arm with Juliette’s. “Do you not dream of experiencing the joy of motherhood one day?”
Juliette glanced at her. “Of course I do. I just don’t like the marry now or you’ll be doomed attitude everyone seems to embrace. It makes the whole experience unpleasant.”
“I know what you mean. It makes me all the more grateful for the swiftness with which I managed to marry the man of my dreams.” Amelia’s eyes glowed with contentment. “But Raphe has agreed not to pressure you into making a hasty match, so that should make the Season more enjoyable for you. I would think.”
“It has. Especially since I can concentrate my efforts on other matters without feeling as though I’m letting him down.” She glanced at her sister. “Did you receive the invitation I sent for the fund-raiser?”
“I did.”
“It’s been a lot of work setting it up, preparing gift baskets and ordering flowers for the tables. Perhaps it would have been better if I’d chosen to hold it next week instead, but with the hospital’s need for funds I rushed and . . . oh, I do hope it will be successful.”
“I’m sure it will be.” Amelia hesitated before asking, “Is Florian helping you organize it?”
“Not really. He’s been too busy setting up a clinic in St. Giles and treating patients. But you needn’t worry. Vivien has offered her assistance, and her experience with such things has proven invaluable. All we need are a few final touches before we’re completely ready.”
“So then, you don’t see much of Florian?”
Alerted by her sister’s interest, Juliette said, “Not more than one might expect under the circumstances.”
“Hmmm . . .”
“What?”
Amelia shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I was starting to think you might be engaged in an odd sort of courtship with him.”
Juliette stopped walking. “You can’t be serious.” She tried to laugh in an effort to underscore the silliness of such a suggestion. “A courtship? Really?” And yet as she said it, she realized how much she wished her sister was right. Which froze her humor and filled her chest with a painful knot.
“It is not as ridiculous an idea as you are proposing,” Amelia said. “Not when your interaction with him has not been limited to work alone. Gabriella says you’ve waltzed with him on two separate occasions. She also insists that you look very comfortable in his company.”
“And? That doesn’t mean anything, Amelia.”
“When one considers the man in question, it ought to. He is not known for being the approachable sort, but rather intimidating. And yet, you have been seen in rapt conversation with him and—”
“I see Gabriella’s account wasn’t limited to my dancing alone.” When Amelia gave her a firm look, she waved one hand. “You put too much emphasis on minor details.”
“Really?” Amelia sounded dubious.
“Yes. Why must assumptions be made when a woman speaks with a man at great length? Florian is simply more fascinating than any other man I’ve met. You know how I like to learn new things. I always have. So why should my interest in him be surprising?”
“It probably wouldn’t be if you could talk about him without your cheeks turning pink.”
Juliette stared back at her sister for a long moment. Eventually, she recommenced walking while saying, “It is a hot day.” She cast a hesitant glance at Amelia and found her watching her with intense curiosity, which prompted her to add, “There is nothing more to it than that.” Except the skittish sensations Florian managed to evoke in her when he was near, the quickening pulse and the shivering skin.
“Are you certain about that?”
Not at all.
“Absolutely.”
“Hmm . . .” An expression that could mean any number of things. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” Something else, Juliette hoped. She was suddenly eager to move on to a different topic.
“Maybe you, Raphe and Gabriella should come for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“That would be lovely.”
“I miss the social interaction, you know. At least Thomas gets out. He has Parliament, even though he claims not to enjoy it, but the discussions there challenge his mind, while I . . . I just feel like a big lump most of the time.”
Juliette laughed. “You carry it well, Amelia. The lumpishness, that is.”
Amelia swatted her arm and grinned. “I’ll invite Florian too.” Juliette’s heart did a little somersault. “It will give me a chance to get to know him better, which can only be a good thing since he’ll be the one delivering my baby.”
Juliette could only nod, and thankfully her sister did not pursue the subject any further. Instead, she began describing how the nursery had been decorated and what else needed to be done in preparation for the baby’s arrival.
Juliette made a valiant effort to focus on this, but now that Florian had been mentioned, it really was quite impossible. Because all she could think of was how good it had felt to be held in his arms and how much she hoped to experience it again.
Chapter 11
“You seem distracted.” Viola tilted her head and regarded Florian thoughtfully.
He stared back at her, aware she’d been talking at length about something but unsure what that something might be. “Forgive me. There is much on my mind.” He’d been honest with her about the threat he’d received. She was his employer and deserved to know if anything stood in the way of his work.
“I know. There is a lot going on in your life at the moment,”
Viola said. “How is your uncle doing?”
“As well as a man at death’s door might be doing. It won’t be long now. A week, perhaps less.” He expelled a ragged breath. “I honestly cannot be sure.”
“I am sorry. Losing the people you care for is difficult. No matter how prepared you think you are or how accustomed you may be to dealing with death. Florian—”
“Please don’t. I would rather not talk about it.”
A small pause followed. “What would you like to talk about then? It is clear that the question of whether or not to take on apprentices here is failing to hold your interest.”
Was that what they’d been discussing?
“Forgive me. My mind is occupied with finding solutions for the typhus outbreak. With three people dead since the committee meeting and ten more showing symptoms, it goes without saying that it is rapidly spreading. Containing it is of the utmost urgency and will require my complete focus.” He did not mean to sound irritable, but damn it all, he was finding it hard not to, all things considered.
Viola kept quiet as if waiting to see if he had anything further to add. When he said nothing more, she curiously asked, “And Lady Juliette?”
Florian’s entire body responded to that simple name. No, not simple, far from it in fact. “What about her?”
“I worry she might prove more of a distraction to you than becoming a duke or receiving threats ever could. Don’t think I did not notice the way in which you spoke to her after the last meeting. The heat in the room emanated solely from one particular corner.”
“Don’t be absurd!”
“Don’t lie to yourself. Be honest.”
Clenching his fists he stared back at the woman who’d inherited a family who loathed her, ridiculed her, shunned her. But instead of becoming the victim they wanted her to be, she’d raised her chin and used the funds her husband left her to cure the sick and save the suffering. She’d lost so much and yet she could not stop giving.
“She is not for me, Viola.”
“Why?”
“You know damn well why.” He was on his feet now, palms on his desk as he leaned toward her.
His intimidating stance had no effect on the dowager duchess. “You are not to blame for your father’s sins.”
“I know that, Viola, but to drag a doe-eyed woman into my life would still be reckless.”
“You speak of her as if she is a child when she is anything but.”
As if he wasn’t aware. The figure she’d put on display a couple of nights ago and the soft sigh of pleasure she’d made in response to his touch confirmed she was all woman. But that didn’t make his wanting her any more right. “She has the opportunity to marry respectably. I will not ruin that for her.”
“You are respectable and you’ll soon be a duke. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”
Bitter laughter was his first response. “Now who is being absurd?” When she merely crossed her arms and challenged him with a hard glare, he said, “My demons would tear her soul to shreds, Viola. You think me a good man, a kind man, because I chose to become a physician and because I always remember the oath I took to help those in need. But you forget that the reason I do so has nothing to do with kindness.”
With a shake of her head she stood. “That’s just a story you tell yourself because you insist you don’t deserve better. But you are not Bartholomew. You are your own person and you have a right to some happiness in your life.”
“I could say the same to you.”
As he’d expected, her expression shuttered and she turned for the door, exiting his office without a backward glance. She’d spoken of her husband only once in the years Florian had known her. Saddened by the thought of her giving her life to the hospital alone, Florian blew out a breath and glanced at his pocket watch. Lady Juliette’s sister and brother-in-law, the Duke and Duchess of Coventry, had invited him to dine this evening. If he hurried home now he’d have time for a bath and a much-needed change of clothes before going to meet them.
Juliette sipped her champagne while listening with half an ear to Amelia and Gabriella share their opinions on the education of children. Of far greater interest was the discussion taking place between Raphe and Coventry on the other side of the room for it involved the speech Florian had delivered to Parliament the previous day, outlining the symptoms of typhus, the progression of it and what he was doing in order to stop it.
Panic had apparently ensued among some, which was to be expected. They’d wanted to know the threat the disease posed to them and their families, but that wasn’t something Florian was able to answer. He had instead advised them on how to practice proper hygiene, and his suggestion to inform the public of the same had been well received.
The parlor door opened, and Jones, the Coventry butler, entered. “Mr. Florian Lowell has arrived.” The man made this announcement and stepped aside, granting Florian entry.
Juliette stared at him as he executed an impeccable bow and came to greet everyone. He was dressed as formally as he’d been when she’d stumbled into him in the Brand House garden. Instinctively, she darted a look in her sister’s direction only to find Amelia regarding her with an unsettling degree of curiosity.
More unsettling were the butterflies taking flight in her stomach and the very obvious fact that the men and women were now evenly paired. She tried not to think of it, but a secret part of her—the part that had sprung awake with a jolt a few days ago when he’d held her—wanted to be close to him again.
And then he was standing before the women and she was rising to her feet, along with Amelia and Gabriella. Solemnly, he thanked his hostess for the invitation and apologized for his tardiness, then complimented Gabriella on how well she looked. Both ladies beamed with pleasure and thanked him for his kindness.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Amelia said, “I must have a word with my husband. Will you join me, Gabriella?”
A quick affirmation left Juliette alone with Florian. After all, it would be intolerably rude if she wandered off as well. So she stayed, battling the turmoil Florian’s close proximity wrought on her nerves.
Slowly, he turned his dark blue eyes on her with such intensity she feared she might start smoldering. “Lady Juliette.” There was a strange degree of sensuality to the way he spoke her name. Or perhaps her silly mind was merely playing tricks on her.
“Florian.” She attempted a smile that he did not reciprocate, but the intensity of his gaze made her feel like the only woman in the world. Her heart leapt in response.
“You look . . .” He allowed his gaze to slide over her without apology, which in turn caused her skin to tighten around every limb. A muscle ticked in his right cheek. “Lovely.”
She swallowed with a bit more effort than usual. “Thank you.” For a moment they simply stood there staring back at each other until it became too difficult, and she hastily told him, “You look quite . . . good . . . yourself.”
Oh how prosaic of her! She squeezed her eyes shut and cursed her lack of verbal proficiency in that moment and his ability to turn her brain to mush.
“My lady?”
Her eyes shot open to find him watching her with curiosity. But there was something else too that looked suspiciously like humor. It warmed her heart and gave her hope. Perhaps one day she’d hear his laughter. Intrigued, she studied him, surprised to find a definite easing of his features and even a sparkle to his eyes.
“Yes?” She finally spoke even though she knew she’d hesitated much too long in doing so.
He leaned a little closer as if intending to share a confidence. “There is nothing wrong with looking good. Indeed I strive to do so as often as possible.” His lips twitched ever so slightly.
Juliette frowned. “Are you mocking me?”
His hand covered his heart and he was once again the face of seriousness. “I would never.” Just then, Amelia announced that dinner was served and Florian offered Juliette his arm. “May I escort you through to the dining room?”
She nodded. Because she wanted to feel the strength of him beneath her hand once more, to savor the opportunity such nearness presented. So she took a step closer, heart pounding in her chest, and linked her arm with his. And as awareness captured her senses, intensified by the masculine scent of bergamot and sandalwood, she started to wonder what it might be like to have him by her side like this forever.
This thought, both startling and terrifying while equally refreshing, made her falter. He steadied her with seemingly little effort and drew her closer. So close she was tempted to lean right into the heat he emitted. Except that would be terribly scandalous and far too revealing. In any case, they were now at the table and he was already pulling out her chair.
“Congratulations once again on becoming the Duke of Redding’s heir,” Coventry said once all their wineglasses had been filled and the starters served.
Florian inclined his head.
“And no one deserves to have such good fortune bestowed upon them more than you,” Raphe added.
The manner in which Florian stiffened and clutched his soup spoon as if the piece of cutlery might save his sanity was not lost on Juliette.
“You do not consider yourself worthy of being a peer?” she quietly asked when the rest of the party had become immersed in conversation.
Florian stilled and, for a long moment, said nothing. Then he set his spoon aside and reached for his wine. “You are very observant,” he told her against the rim of the glass before taking a lengthy sip.
“I pay attention,” she said, adding a chuckle.
“Hmm . . .” He set his glass aside and shifted closer, not enough for anyone else to take notice, but enough for her to know a boundary was being crossed. “Will you tell me what you see when you look at me?”
It was an unmistakable challenge—the dangerous sort from which she’d be wise to retreat. For the manner in which it was spoken made one thing quite clear: he wanted something from her, something that had nothing to do with the question he’d just asked.
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