Lord Fawkland frowned as well when Cedric looked their way and toasted them with his glass. He moved away then, but Lord Fawkland looked from the whispering women to Julia. She could feel the heat of a blush fill her face. She could see the dots connecting as he put two and two together. Realizing this gossip was about her. Lord Fawkland’s frown deepened. He passed the footman abruptly; ignoring the man as if he had not seen him and sat his glass in a conveniently nearby planter. Lord Fawkland strode purposely across the room to the gossiping women while the footman threw a confused glance at his back and then collected the glass from the planter.
Julia knew that Lord Fawkland was aware something happened between her and his brother the previous evening. She still vainly hoped he did not know what. She felt her stomach churning with anxiety as she contemplated how much he knew of her wanton behavior, and yet would it be better to have this secret known between them? She felt a flush heat her face, deeply embarrassed. Julia was now certain the women were talking about her. When Lord Fawkland realized what the women were saying, Julia saw by the scowl that crossed his face that he was upset by their discourse. Still, if he had seen her with Cedric he knew the gossip had at least a kernel of truth to it.
He was sweet to think he could stop the talk, but how could he defend her, and should he even try? Sometimes it was best to just ignore such things. Had she not had a lifetime to learn how to deal with rumor? In her heart she could feel the warmth of Lord Fawkland’s arm beneath hers as he walked her home and how tenderly he supported her to her house, but he could not support her reputation.
She watched Lord Fawkland cross the room. The women straightened when he approached, turning simpering faces his way. They fawned over him as they had Cedric but he paid it little mind while his brother basked their attention. His face was as hard as cut marble. Julia would have given anything to hear what he said to the ladies, but Jane urged her to look away. She watched covertly through veiled lashes.
Lady Stewart blushed and the honey sweet expression quickly slid off her face, but even embarrassment looked pretty on her. She lifted her eyes and glared a Julia cross the room. Then she raised her hand and caught Lord Fawkland’s. She simpered and he stood uncertain holding her hand. Dear God, the woman was flirting with him, Julia thought. She felt her face near burn with anger. Julia could see the confusion on Lord Fawkland’s face. Then Lady Stewart released him and flounced out with the rest of her entourage.
“If those ladies were speaking about Lord Fawkland walking you home I am afraid that his attempt to quell their talk will have only made the rumors worse.” Jane sighed.
Lord Fawkland? Julia thought. She was confused for a moment. Nothing had happened between her and Lord Fawkland. When he walked her home he had been a perfect gentleman. It was Cedric who had been untoward. Then she remembered that Cedric had said it was dark. He was right no one had seen her with him. People had only seen her with Lord Fawkland and in such a disheveled state! Or they noticed both her and Lord Fawkland had left the picnic. Her heart sunk to shoes. Her wantonness had spread further rumors about Lord Fawkland’s rakishness. Rumors that she was now coming to believe were ill founded. She had dragged his name down yet further with her own. She was awful.
“He has known me for a day,” Julia said, “And all I have done is worsen his reputation and make myself into…
Jane hushed her. “Oh, Julia do not take it personally. They cannot truly know anything,”
Julia did not have the courage to tell Jane how wrong she was. Someone must have seen her. It would have been easy for someone to spot her walking home with Lord Fawkland. She was so ungodly tall, no one would mistake her for another. Julia bit her lip. The chance of keeping her house in Bath was slipping farther and farther away.
Lord Fawkland returned to them, scowling. “I cannot stand gossips. I hope that will be the end of it for you. Miss Bellevue, but I am afraid that is rarely the case.” Lord Fawkland looked down at Julia and she could not look away from his coal-dark eyes. There was a warmth there she had not seen before. She hoped it was not pity. She realized she did not want him to pity her.
“Thank you, Lord Fawkland,” Julia said. Thinking he was kind for defending her in spite of the detriment to himself.
“It is no trouble.” Lord Fawkland said. He cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something else, but instead he bowed slightly. “I will also be at the ball tonight. I greatly look forward to seeing you there. Now if you will excuse me. I must find my brother who has disappeared again.” He closed his eyes momentarily and sighed as he left them.
Julia was not the only woman to watch Lord Fawkland leave. He did not swagger, but the crowd parted for his long stride nonetheless.
“I hope I did not disappoint him,” Julia said thinking that if this mess of rumors she created made Lord Fawkland leave her cold, she could hardly blame him.
“He does have a frighteningly masculine countenance does he not?” Jane replied.
Julia looked at her sister. That was not what she meant. Whatever else she felt, Julia did not fear Lord Fawkland.
~.~
Chapter Three
Godwin followed Cedric from the Grand Pump Room, trying to keep the man in his sights. Godwin could not allow Miss Bellevue to become an object of his brother’s amusement. Gentlemanly feeling, of which his brother seemed to have none, urged him to protect the woman but it was more than that. He remembered what he had seen in her as a child and what had come to fruition in the woman. He was prepared for most anything, but not that she had grown into a beauty. Most of the time, he let his brother have his way, but not this time.
Cedric turned the corner. He appeared to be returning to his apartments here in Bath, and Godwin hurried after him, but before Godwin caught up with him, Cedric abruptly stepped from one of the narrow alleyways and surprised Godwin.
“You are following me brother. Why?” He asked crossly.
“You are quite aware of why,” Godwin said. “You accosted my betrothed.”
“Accosted is a very strong word,” Cedric complained.
“I do not want to have this conversation on the street,” Godwin said.
“I do not want to have this conversation at all,” Cedric returned and started to walk away.
Godwin caught his brother’s arm, yanking him around. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you kissed Miss Bellevue.”
Cedric chewed on the side of his cheek for a moment as he often did when he was contemplating a lie. Perhaps that habit was why he lost so much at cards. Godwin thought idly. Every thought was on the boy’s face.
He watched as Cedric let a sly smile fill his face and lifted a shoulder in a glib gesture. “Perhaps she kissed me.”
“Do not!” Godwin snapped, shoving his brother further into the ally and holding him against the wall. It took all of his control to not smash his brother’s head against the smooth white stone. “You accosted her. You kissed her. You took the comb from her hair. You left her upset, unkempt, and open to gossip.”
“Ah, the comb,” Cedric said, his hand going to his jacket pocket.
“I sent it back to her,” Godwin growled. “Is it not enough that you touched her; you had to steal from her too? Do you have no honor at all?”
Cedric frowned in confusion and Godwin realized he had no recollection of the rest of the evening or betting her comb at cards. “The hair comb,” Godwin said again. “I took it when you were drunk enough to not miss its absence.
“Taking it guaranteed she would speak to me again, to get it back.”
“And that is why you bet it at cards?” Godwin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Well, she has no reason to speak to you now. None. You will leave her be.”
“You have no right to tell me what to do.”
Godwin ground his teeth. If the whelp said, you are not my father, like he was wont to do as a child, Godwin swore he would hit him. How could this creature be his brother?
“You have had your fun,”
Godwin said at last. “This is the end of it. She is my betrothed, and this ends here.” Godwin turned away.
Cedric spun him back around.
“You cannot marry Julia,” he said. “You cannot.”
“Indeed?” Godwin raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You are on a first name basis with Miss Bellevue?”
“It’s not fair,” Cedric protested. “I have known Julia for years. You have not.”
“Julia,” Godwin repeated his voice a low growl. The boy spoke so familiarly, as if they were lovers. His eyes narrowed; a flash of rage shot through him like an explosion at the mere thought of Cedric despoiling her. Cedric had angered him before but not like this. He would not bear it. He clenched his jaw so tightly it ached.
“Miss Bellevue,” Godwin corrected. “Do not address her with such familiarity.” he said warningly. “She is promised to me and I will have her to wife.” The thought of marrying Miss Bellevue shot a feeling of excitement through him, mixed with pride and protection. It almost overwhelmed him. He could not leave her to his brother’s devices. He would not. He had never been so sure of anything in his life.
“You cannot marry her,” Cedric repeated. “She was my childhood friend. I know her and she will never have you. Miss Bellevue will see you for the cold-hearted bastard you are,” Cedric said bitingly.
The words hit hard. Miss Bellevue had met him with meager civility. She had barely spoken with him and there was no affection in her attitude. She had not received his suit warmly. No. She was quite cool, and that coolness settled around his heart, freezing it. He could not ever remember being so apprehensive; not since he was seventeen and facing all the challenges of his title.
“She will marry me, or she will lose her house in Bath,” Godwin said.
“And that is why you are a cold-hearted bastard. You do not deserve her.”
“Her father approved the match. He wanted to see her settled, and I do not think the woman shall willingly let go of the house, Cedric. Most women value security. I cannot see that she would choose to lose it.”
Godwin spoke forcefully, but he did not feel so confident. Miss Bellevue did not seem open to the engagement at first but that was merely the awkwardness of the situation, Godwin reminded himself. Though he had little time to court her and was not skilled at such things. He would make her see that he was genuinely affectionate towards her. She was an intelligent woman. She would accept his suit. She would see through Cedric’s façade. She had to. “She will accept my suit,” he said.
“She won’t!” Cedric spat back. He was standing, fists tight and red faced. Godwin was reminded of him as boy of two ready to have a temper tantrum. He thought idly Father should have taken the strap to Cedric sooner and more often before he died.
“She prefers me,” Cedric said finally.
“She did not prefer you last night when she slapped you,” Godwin said.
“A token protest.” Cedric returned glibly.
“Token?” Godwin said.
“They all protest, Godwin. Else, they would be labeled whores.”
“Dear God, Cedric how many times have you done this?” Godwin said appalled. “She is a lady, not some low-born strumpet. This will stop. I’ve covered for your mistakes in the past, but no longer, and not Miss Bellevue. She my betrothed and is not to be toyed with.”
Cedric grinned slyly at him.
“I mean it. She is not another of your light skirts, Cedric. Do you understand?”
Cedric still said nothing.
“Do you understand me?” Godwin repeated darkly.
Cedric took a swing at him. Godwin, who was expecting such behavior from his hot-headed brother, caught his fist and pulled him close, so he could not engage in fisticuffs.
“You are the very devil himself,” Cedric sneered and stepped back, but he turned to face his brother again, giving Godwin a hard look. “What did they do to you at sea, Godwin? You used to be fun. You used to have a heart. Now you think of nothing but duty and work. You have dried up inside.”
“I used to be a child,” Godwin said shoving his brother away. “Someday I suppose you will grow up too, Cedric. Eventually, even you will have to learn that the world is not here for your express amusement. A husband, a father, should generally be an adult,” Godwin said. “I tell you now; I will have Miss Bellevue to wife.”
“She will never agree to marry you, Godwin. She cares far too much what others think and say of her.” Cedric straightened his coat and met his brother’s eyes. “Always has. Always will,” he said with finality.
Godwin watched Cedric stride away. He vowed that Cedric may get the last word, but he would convince Miss Bellevue to agree to marry him. No matter what it took, because losing her would break something within him; something vital.
~.~
Julia spent an hour at her easel that afternoon, adding only a single puff of cloud to the unerringly blue sky on her canvas. She could not concentrate. She stepped back, dripping paint onto the floor, and looked over her work. If she did not go to the ball tonight she might be able to finish the painting, but then she might as well resign herself to being a spinster. She tossed the wet paintbrush onto the tray of mixed paints and dropped onto the seat beneath the doublewide windows. They were thrown open to let in the cool breeze that came with the setting sun, and the curtains rose and fell like the rhythm of breathing. If Julia did not go to the ball, if she couldn’t face the Ton, then she might as well just tell them the rumors were true straight out.
It made no difference anyway. No one would want her now. Her own betrothed, who was now proving himself to be better than what others said of him knew that she was most certainly worse. Lord Fawkland knew she had allowed his own brother to take liberties with her. How could she face the man now? How could he still want to marry her? Why should he? Why should anyone?
Julia buried her face in one of the colorful pillows on the window seat.
“Julia? Are you awake?” Jane knocked at the door, three light taps.
“I was painting,” Julia said as she stood up. She gestured at the canvas, and the drying brushes; then sat back down and looked out the window to the street below. “I just need to clean my brushes,”
“Oh posh,” said Jane. “One of the servants can do it.”
But Julia shook her head. She was very careful of her brushes and didn’t want them drying all askew. She had already left them too long. They were sticky with paint. She would do it herself. “Must we go tonight?” Julia asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Of course we must. We must keep our heads high, and act as though nothing is amiss.”
“Oh Jane, you know I am horrible at this sort of thing.” Julia protested.
Jane smiled encouragingly at her. “You did very well this morning.”
“I haven’t messed this up entirely?” Julia asked softly, looking up at Jane from the window seat. Her sister sat beside her and enfolded Julia in her arms.
“No. I do not think so.” Jane comforted her. “Rumor will die once you are married. I think as long as you choose one of the Gruger brothers…” Jane’s face took on a troubled look. “You don’t have your eye on anyone else do you?”
Julia thought of her promise to herself last night: to marry someone who was not a Gruger. That seemed ill begotten now. Despite all the men her sister had introduced her to in Bath she could barely remember their names. None had struck her as Lord Fawkland and Cedric had. Though she remembered she had also promised herself she would not marry a rake.
“No.” Julia said reluctantly, “I didn’t have my eye on else.”
“Well, good then. We will take things one step at a time. Lord Fawkland maybe your betrothed but Mister Cedric Gruger appears quite taken with you as well,” Jane said.
Julia blushed. Cedric was far too taken with her. More than Julia was comfortable with. She didn’t know how it had happened. How could she explain herself? Julia rose applied herself to her brushes while Jane talked. Not really h
earing what her sister was saying.
“Perhaps Lord Fawkland will step aside for his brother. I cannot think a gentleman would hold you to a contract that you found distasteful. Do you think Lord Fawkland will behave as a gentleman? Julia?”
Julia thought of how he had walked her home and respected her wishes. “Yes,” she said absently. “He is a gentleman.”
“Then if you are finished with the brushes, you should get ready for the ball. I will send Jacqueline directly to do your hair. Come.”
Julia followed her sister out of the attic studio.
“I know you do not enjoy the finding of a husband, Julia. You do not enjoy the dancing and parties, and of course, the pressure of the timeline does you no favors, and now, your sore foot is an added hindrance, but once you are married, I think you will be content,” Jane said. “I truly do. You will have your own home then, and of course, children.” A somewhat dreamy look came over Jane’s face as she spoke. Julia was not so sure.
Julia washed in the basin and donned her dressing gown. She slipped her foot into a small foot bath a maid had brought, wincing as her sore toe hit the hot water, but in a moment, it felt better. She closed her eyes enjoying the warm water while she picked the paint from beneath her fingernails and waited for Jane and Jacqueline to come and hurry her along. Her sister would obsess over every detail of their outfits, and they would be flawless, but no amount of finery could help Julia act a proper lady. Cedric had seen right through her attire to her true nature, a wanton woman like her mother. Though she had gone over her behavior the day of the picnic many times in her mind, she still could not pick out the moment when she had given Cedric any indication that she wished him to make such advances. Would he attempt them again? In her imagination she could feel the grip of his hand on her arm and her heart beat fast. She was not sure if it was fear or desire, but she did not like it. She felt rather giddy when Lord Fawkland had touched her, but she did not fear him, and when she had been alone with him, he had been the perfect gentleman. He had time and place to dishonor her when he walked her home, but he had not done so. He had been kind. He had been so unlike his brother, but was that because he did not want her? Was he disgusted by her base nature? Was it not better to have a man who understood what she was…like Cedric? She shuddered as a trickle of fear crept up from her belly. She rubbed a hand over the spot on her arm where he had gripped her. There was no bruise, but the arm was tender nonetheless.
The Baron in Bath - Miss Julia Bellevue: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 4) Page 13
