Lord Fawkland cleared his throat. “Ladies,” he said with a curt bow. “Lady Keegain. Miss Bellevue.” Julia was surprisingly pleased with his manner when she offered her hand. He did not take liberties, but only quickly brought her gloved knuckles to his lips and then released her. He did not press her, but his eyes were very intense, as they met hers. They were so dark for someone with blond hair; the grey in them was varied like a brewing storm and she wondered if she could capture that color on canvas. It was intriguing.
“I was shocked and dismayed to hear of your father’s passing,” Fawkland said his voice melodious and soft. “Words cannot convey my most sincere condolences.”
The words were not just said in passing He actually did seem sincere, Julia thought, or perhaps he was just better at lying than most. “Good afternoon, Lord Fawkland” Julia said at last finding her voice. “Thank you for your condolences.”
He continued smoothly as if he had planned his words. “Your father was of great service to me when my own father passed,” he added. “I would have been lost without him.”
And now she was lost without him, Julia thought. She met Lord Fawkland’s eyes again briefly and then looked away confused. He did not seem rakish. How would a rake seem? He would not ravish her here with the other guests. How could she know if he was what others said of him? She shoved the unwelcome thoughts away. Julia knew that their fathers had once been friends, but she had not known that her father had helped Lord Fawkland in any way. Was that why Father had chosen him?
Lord Fawkland turned to Jane with another small nod. “And please thank Keegain for seeing to the arrangements. I am in your husband’s debt. This deuced war…” He broke off, the sudden passion squelched. “Pardon,” he said taking both women in with a glance. He took a breath. “I was out of the country when your father passed,” Lord Fawkland explained. “Or I would have contacted you sooner. Mister Bellevue was as kind and wise a man as I have ever known.”
Wise? Julia thought was he in agreement with this ridiculous arrangement her father had foisted upon her?
“Thank you for your correspondence on the matter, Lord Fawkland,” Jane said.
“Yes,” Julia added inanely. She had returned that correspondence at Jane’s insistence, but it seemed they had danced all around the facts in those brief letters. Now that they were standing face to face, conversation did not come any easier.
“Thank you,” Lord Fawkland replied, “Your letter was a bright bit of sunshine, in an otherwise dull day, Miss Bellevue.”
Well, there was a lie, Julia thought. That single letter, written under duress, was as business-like as his answer had been: no kind words of affection, only a brief outline that she understood she was engaged to him according to her father’s will, and that Father apparently thought she would already be married to Lord Fawkland, so that upon his death, her father wished the house in Bath to be deeded to Lord Fawkland, her husband, rather than to Cousin Rupert. It would have been much more palpable if Father himself had told her of his plans first, but he had not.
“It must have been quite distressing for you to find out about our engagement from the solicitors,” He said sympathetically. “I would have spared you that.”
“Actually,” Julia said. “Jane told me. The solicitors wrote to The Earl.”
“Of course,” he said. “I only meant I would have started our courtship on a more romantic note, if I had known our time was so precious.”
Romantic? What on earth was he talking about? Was he trying to woo her?
“I never wished to set you with an ultimatum. You must know, I only recently found out about the townhouse myself.”
“And that was a boon,” Julia blurted.
“Of course,” he said after moment. “It was, but your father was always generous. I had expected a dowry, not a house.”
“You could deed it to me,” Julia said.
“Julia!” Jane hissed.
Lord Fawkland opened his mouth and closed it again as if he was not sure what he should say to her. She thought it was very simple. He should give her house back to her.
He turned those intense eyes on her then, and spoke. His voice penetrated down to her toes with a soft resonance. “If we do not marry,” he said at last, “As I understand it, the house goes to your cousin.” He took a slow breath and asked. “Do you find our engagement distasteful?” He seemed shocked, as if he couldn’t quite believe that she did not find herself delighted to be married to him.
Well, she was not delighted. “I do not know you,” she said flatly.
“Our fathers were friends. We were children together.”
“Many marriages start with less,” Jane added trying to calm the tension.
“No. We were not children together,” Julia contradicted him. “It was your brother I was acquainted with, not you.”
“Cedric.” His voice was like ice.
“Yes, I…” Julia began but Lord Fawkland was no longer looking at her.
She followed his gaze over her shoulder to realize that Lord Fawkland was not replying to her comment, as she originally thought. He was speaking to his younger brother. Cedric Gruger had approached and stepped up just beside her.
“Hello brother,” Cedric said an impish smile on his face. “Do introduce me to your betrothed.”
Something passed between the brothers but Julia could not deduce exactly what it was.
Cedric seemed lighthearted as he had been as a child. Godwin said nothing, but his jaw hardened.
“Never mind,” Cedric said blithely. “As the lady said, we are already acquainted.” He stepped forward and took Julia’s hand, kissing it. His bold action was quite on the edge of good manners, but she had just said they were acquainted and she was reminded of the fun they had as children. It was ridiculous to pretend they were not introduced, although polite society would hold that they were not, after all this time.
“Charmed,” Cedric said still holding her hand. His eyes were bright as if they were on the edge of a joke, his full lips curving into an infectious smile. “You are much too beautiful for my brother, Miss Julia,” he teased, blatantly using her given name as he had when they were children. “He will not appreciate you.”
Julia could not tear her gaze away from the younger brother. As children it had seemed Cedric Gruger was less attractive of the two boys, with a too-large nose and mess of curls to rival her own, but time had proved otherwise. His face had grown into his nose, and his curls begged to be touched. She stilled her hands and reminded herself that she was a lady. He was the sort of man that women lost their minds over: charming and virile. And he was actually taller than his older brother by a good inch. She knew she should say something, but she was rendered speechless.
“Mister Gruger.” An elegant woman who was already bearing the signs of intoxication waved to Cedric. One of her companions held her steady with an arm around her waist as she stumbled a bit, righted herself and came on smiling and talking with animation. “You promised to escort me,” she sing-songed as she approached.
Julia blinked. The musicale performance had not actually begun. How could a woman so early into her cups hold a conversation better than Julia herself? She was truly hopeless. The fact was, only half of the guests would sit and listen to the music. Most were here more to mingle than to actually hear Mister Lodder sing, although Julia thought she would enjoy the performance more than conversation.
“I do hope to call on you on the morrow, if it is convenient, Miss Bellevue,” Lord Fawkland said.
“Certainly,” Jane answered.
“I thought we had planned to go to the Pratt’s picnic,” Julia interjected.
“I would be honored to escort you,” Fawkland said. He bowed stiffly. “Please excuse us.”
Julia watched Lord Fawkland practically drag his brother away, the tipsy woman clinging on Cedric’s opposite arm. Lord Fawkland still treated Cedric like a child. He was unkind she told herself as she watched the brothers walk away. Still, t
here was something about Cedric that had unsettled her even in the brief moment she had spoken to him. Of course, she had been unsettled since she left the house this afternoon.
Well, that was something,” Jane said, when the brothers were well out of earshot. She looked after them for another moment. “He is taller than you. They both are.”
“Yes,” Julia said as if this was a feat. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were gone, but Jane seemed intent upon torturing her. “What are your thoughts?” She persisted.
“I wish Father had betrothed me to the younger,” Julia blurted.
Jane nodded. “You remember him as a child. You are more comfortable with him?”
Julia wasn’t sure if the unsettling feeling in her stomach was actually comfort, but she did remember his infectious smile.
The musicale was starting and Jane and Julia moved to sit. Julia hadn’t seen yet Lady Charity, but she hoped she could find Lavinia to sit with her. Before they reached their seats, Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Sullivan hurried over.
Mrs. Thompson was a brunette, where her friend Mrs. Sullivan was fair. Slight wrinkles creased the corners of Mrs. Thompson’s eyes, and she had laugh lines, but she was the more beautiful of the two. They exchanged pleasantries with Jane, but wasted no time before revealing their true purpose in speaking to Julia.
“Now just between us ladies, who has caught your eye?” Mrs. Thompson asked.
“Though we are out of the game, I’m sure we can help,” Mrs. Sullivan added.
“Out of the game?” Julia repeated. Whatever did she mean?
“Mrs. Sullivan and I know all of the bachelors.” Mrs. Thompson clarified. “We can introduce you if you like.”
Julia shuddered with the thought.
“Oh, to be young and on the hunt for a husband.” Mrs. Thompson heaved a sigh.
“Do you remember?” Mrs. Sullivan began, as she elapsed into what could only be a lengthy story, but it would be terribly impolite to give the woman the cut. Julia’s eyes wandered back to Cedric who was engaged in conversation with several young ladies now. She remembered how he had played tricks on some of the girls who teased her and would not speak with her. At the time she had thought it great fun, but now? What did she think? She thought about the games they had played as children and remembered how fast they had run. There seemed to be a lot of running if she remembered correctly. At last a poke by Jane brought her back to the present.
“You will be disappointed,” Jane said. “My sister is somewhat… discerning.”
“And so she should be,” Mrs. Sullivan replied.
“I had heard your father decided,” Mrs. Thompson said. “A proper lady heeds her father’s wishes.”
“We shall see,” said Jane, when she saw Julia fumbling for words. “She has only just met the Grugers, our old family friends again. It has been an age since we were acquainted and then only as children. This is our first excursion to Bath this year.”
Mrs. Sullivan gasped. “The elder Gruger or the younger? Where the younger is concerned, a more charming and fashionable man you would be hard pressed to find. He is a perfect match for her! That they were childhood friends can only mean that it was meant to be, do you not think so, Mrs. Thompson?”
Mrs. Thompson nodded vigorously.
“Are you terribly excited,” Mrs. Sullivan asked.
Uncertain what else to do, Julia nodded.
“Yes, it is fated,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “I do so love when fate takes a hand.”
That is hardly the conclusion Julia would have jumped to.
“Yes indeed. Just stay far away from the elder Gruger brother. The Baron of Fawkland’s title is not worth the trouble.” Mrs. Thompson shook her head, making a tsking sound. “He is not the boy you may remember. I have heard some dreadful talk about him.”
“What sort of talk?” Mrs. Sullivan’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of feigned surprise, which she artfully hid with her fan.
“Simply dreadful,” Mrs. Thompson repeated in a conspiratorial whisper, but there was a smile in her voice as she exchanged a look with Mrs. Sullivan.
The pair had missed their calling as stage actors, the way they performed their roles. Still, Julia could not help leaning in to hear what Mrs. Thompson had to say about Lord Fawkland.
“I have it on dit that he has a brood of children; all from different women. And that he keeps the women quiet with expensive allowances.” Mrs. Thompson nodded. “Now, I don’t think that is the sort of man a young girl of quality should aspire to.”
“Of course not,” Mrs. Sullivan said primly.
Mrs. Thompson pitched her voice in a stage whisper. “He threatens anyone who speaks of it. His temper is quite legendary.”
Julia almost felt sorry for Lord Fawkland, knowing personally the sting of gossip. Julia wondered how much of what Mrs. Thompson had to say was even the truth. She and Mrs. Sullivan both seemed to be the worst sort of busy bodies. Though it could be the truth; he had a decidedly virile appearance. Of course, so did Cedric.
Jane’s face had paled. “You should not say such things, Lady Thompson, and in front of my young sister no less. She does not need to be frightened into thinking all men are rogues, especially not on account of baseless rumors. She is an innocent.”
Although Julia could claim no actual experience with men, she also did not think of herself as completely innocent. Had she not just this day feasted her eyes upon the very man spoken of. She felt a hot blush filling her face.
“Shame on you for spreading such stories,” Jane said. “Look, you have made my sister blush.”
Was it entirely necessary for Jane to point out how she blushed, Julia wondered.
“Now I have known Lord Fawkland since we were children, our fathers were old friends,” Jane continued. “And I will not believe rumors about him.”
Of course Jane would say so. She could not give any credence to rumors attached to her sister’s betrothed, Julia thought. This was a disaster.
Mrs. Thompson shrugged an elegant gesture that showed off her shapely, pale shoulder. “As I said, ‘tis only a rumor.” She flipped open her fan with a flick of her wrist and shared a look with Mrs. Sullivan behind it. “But as you know, most of these things have at least a kernel of truth.”
“Julia!” Lady Charity’s voice brought her back to the present. “There you are! I have not had a moment to myself all afternoon,” she said petulantly. “Come, sit with me, and we will listen to the music.” She turned to the Mistresses Thompson and Sullivan. “Ladies, my mother wished to speak with you. I do believe she is in the drawing room.” In the next moment, Charity had led Julia and Jane back towards the music room leaving the other women to find their own way to Lady Shalace.
“You looked like you needed rescuing,” Lady Charity whispered. “We certainly do not want them to find anything to talk of. It will be all over the Ton by tomorrow.
Julia hurried to keep pace with Charity. The musical performance was beginning. She looked again but could not find Cedric nor the woman who had come to fetch him.
Jane reached down and caught hold of Julia’s hand, threading their fingers together as she had since they were young. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Julia. Those women should know better than to speak so in front of you.”
“I am not a child, Jane, and it did not offend me. Nor shock me. An indecent child grows into an indecent man.” She was beginning to think dichotomy was a staple in siblings. “I am not so naive Jane.
“Still, if you refuse him on hearsay, Julia…” her sister began.
“No, Jane. Men who stray, stray. If he is of loose morals now, that will not change.” Julia said with finality she did not feel.
The three women found Lavinia and sat to enjoy the rest of the musicale together. Julia considered her plight as she listened to the music. She could not stop thinking of the Gruger brothers. Despite what she had told Jane. How had they become so handsome, and tall? It was not at all fair. Her heart leapt at the thought of Ce
dric, but her heart had also raced when Lord Fawkland had been introduced to her. She stifled a groan. It was her wanton blood given her by her mother. She saw a man and her blood raced and her tongue tied itself in knots. How could she tell which man would be the best husband when they all made her feel giddy and stupid? How could she know what to do? The Ton was so confusing. No one was what they seemed. Everyone hid their true feelings and no one ever said what they meant. How could she decipher the truth?
Julia was no closer to an answer by the time she and Jane arrived home. But she was determined to make the best choice. She refused to marry a rake.
~.~
The Baron in Bath
~Part 2 ~
The Baron’s Brother
Chapter One
Though he had only met her again yesterday, Lord Godwin Gruger, The Baron of Fawkland considered Miss Julia Bellevue his betrothed. Of course, he had not really met her yesterday. He had grown up with her, or rather his six years younger brother, Cedric had. Godwin remembered Miss Bellevue as a dark-haired child, running wild with his brother, but somehow while he had been at sea, the girl had grown into a striking woman.
He knew Julia was the younger Bellevue daughter, but he wondered who she was now. What did she like and dislike? He found himself excited to get to know her. Long ago he had been struck by the strength in Miss Bellevue’s face and the confident way she handled his brother’s shenanigans though she was only a child. He thought then if his brother had not reduced the girl to tears, she should be of stern stuff.
She seemed a steadfast girl, his family knew hers and she was not so fragile a thing that he felt he might break her. He only remembered seeing her, and being intrigued by her when he had arrived home from The Royal Navy. He had chosen her specifically. He had been seventeen, and Miss Bellevue…considerably younger. Nonetheless, she had met his eyes fearlessly, and he wanted to take some courage from her that day, and perhaps he had…the day he had come home so unprepared after his father’s death.
The Baron in Bath - Miss Julia Bellevue: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 4) Page 5
