Her heart ached, though she told it not to. For she wanted him to be sincere, wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything. She wanted the fairy-tale to be true. But it wasn’t. Would never be.
“Excuse me, Your Grace.”
She pushed him gently, and, like the gentleman he was trained to be, he stepped back, allowing her to pass. She fled. She did not leave her mother’s side for the rest of the night, no matter how painful it was to watch men fawn over Eleanor.
~~~~~
Garrett lifted the fallen book, noted with some amusement that it was a Minerva Press novel, and placed it on a side table. A servant would put it back on its shelf tomorrow, he was sure.
He discovered a decanter of brandy on one of the tables, poured himself a glass, and settled into a chair. He needed the quiet of the room more than ever, now. He needed to think. What had just happened? Why had she run? Surely, his kiss had not been that abhorrent, no matter how inappropriate it was?
And the memory of that kiss! Of how she had felt against him, so soft, yet strong, of how her innocent response had been there, causing her to melt against him.
He had felt her heart beating, just as hard as his had been, seen the evidence of her rapid breathing in the rise and fall of her breasts where the neck of the gown dipped low. She had been as affected as he had, perhaps more. And then he had apologised – and she had looked hurt, and almost… horrified?
And moments later, she had fled the room, a look of anguish on her face. How could an apology create such a reaction?
An hour later, though he ached with wanting to find her, and kiss her again, he was no further ahead in understanding her reaction.
He had to hope that, whatever information Mr Sandiford provided him tomorrow would enlighten him. None of it made any sense whatsoever.
As he swallowed the last of the brandy, he found himself darkly amused. For the first time in his life, he actually found a woman interesting, attractive, and wanted to spend time with her. And what did she do? She fled from his presence, as if he were something terrible, worthy of fear.
A writer of farces for the stage could not have invented a more ridiculous situation.
~~~~~
Fondleton had composed himself enough to consider returning to the other rooms, and seeking out a card game to console himself, and taken his first steps in that direction, when the library door opened with some force, and Lady Juliana, unaware of his presence a few feet away, rushed out, and almost ran down the hallway.
The wind of her passing ruffled his carefully structured hair, and he ground his teeth in frustration again. How could this be happening? He had never had so much trouble getting a woman alone before!
He paused. There was no sound from the library. Kilmerstan was not going to follow her. Perhaps they had quarrelled. Well, if that was the case, it would be to his benefit – for if they had quarrelled, surely Kilmerstan would not be in his way, next time he tried to trap Lady Juliana alone.
Chapter Six
The following day, Juliana was unable to provide an excuse to stay away from Hallingbrook Grange. She approached the planned afternoon of games, with a garden party in the formal gardens which spread out from the terrace, feeling a mixture of fear and grim determination.
Fear that she would be clumsy, and fall down the steps, or into a rose bush, fear that the Duke would be there, and that she would be forced to be close to him, fear that he wouldn’t be there, for her treacherous heart informed her that she desperately wanted to see him again, and grim determination that she would, somehow, avoid him, and avoid doing anything disastrous before the assembled people.
Her mother, oblivious as always to the turmoil that filled her, nattered on to Eleanor as the carriage conveyed them up the Hallingbrook Grange driveway.
It was an imposing house, she had to admit, although in that instant she would have preferred to be anywhere else, anywhere.
Descending from the carriage, they entered the house, and were shown through to the ballroom, where all of the terrace doors had been propped open, to allow guests to come and go at will, and to allow the gentle breeze to flow through the house. Soon, she was a silent witness to her sister’s flirtation and her mother’s conversation. It grated – she might as well be invisible, for all the notice that anyone paid her! But, at the same time, she was grateful – invisibility was pleasantly undemanding. And being always at her mother’s side, in the midst of things, would preclude any risk of unexpected meetings in secluded corners.
Once an hour or two had passed, and the Duke had not made an appearance, she began to relax. It seemed that he was not going to attend that afternoon. She was torn between relief and disappointment, and severely chided herself for the disappointment part – what was she thinking! ‘Well’, said the quiet voice in her head, ‘perhaps you are thinking about how it felt to have his lips upon yours?’. She repressed it sternly.
She considered slipping away into a quiet corner to rest her aching feet, then thought better of it. Avoiding all risk of semi-private meetings, with anyone, was by far the safest course.
~~~~~
As Juliana endured invisibility, Garrett walked casually across the town square and slipped into the lawyers’ office. The town was quiet, with not many people about, and he was grateful – the last thing he needed was casual conversation. Only the elder Mr Sandiford was present, and he waved Garrett to a chair.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“And to you, Sandiford. Do you have information for me?”
“I do indeed, although I’m not sure what to make of some of it. There’s an element of solid information, but there’s also a collection of what sounds like, to me anyway, a lot of faradiddle.”
“Oh?”
“First, the solid information. Lord Delbarton and his family are staying at Hardcastle House, in one of the larger suites of rooms. They appear to be decent people, and the two servants they brought with them seem happy and dedicated to them. But under the surface things are a little less positive. It seems that the current Earl’s father was not a good manager of his wealth, and ran down the estates, selling off a lot of what is not entailed. So, the current Earl is not a wealthy man. He’s not paupered, but he’s struggling somewhat.”
Garrett nodded, not really surprised.
“Therefore, he needs his daughters to marry well?”
“It would seem so. But there he has a little problem – well, two actually. The first is simple – he really doesn’t have the ready to pay out two dowries, not with any speed, at any rate. The second rather compounds with the first, and this is where the dubious information comes in.”
“I pity the man – that is not a good situation to be in, at all. But what is this dubious information? And how does it relate to his daughters’ dowries?”
Sandiford looked at the notes on his desk, as if checking what was said.
“It seems that the elder daughter, Lady Juliana, had her first, and only, London Season more than three years ago. It started with high hopes from her parents, and ended as an apparently unmitigated disaster. She was then, I gather, at nineteen, one of those girls who blooms late. She was still gawky and uncoordinated – the sort of girl who brings to mind a foal taking its first steps – all legs and wobbles. She had then, if reports can be believed, not yet achieved much in the way of womanly curves, nor anything in the way of guile or skill at flirtation. She was damned as an antidote, a clumsy oaf with no redeeming features, and no conversation, not even the physical appeal that might make a man accept the rest. And the gossips of the ton tore her apart for their amusement. She has generally avoided society ever since.”
Garrett felt ill at Sandiford’s words, all too easily imagining what such a situation might do to the confidence of a young girl. Much about Lady Juliana’s manner made far more sense to him now.
“But, terrible as that is, how does it compound her father’s problem with the dowries?”
“Simple – he can’t affo
rd to pay two dowries. So, if he marries off the younger daughter, who is far more socially adept, and the older daughter becomes a spinster, whilst he still has to feed her, and has the embarrassment of her not having found a husband, he will not have to pay out her dowry either. So he is caught between the two. What is best for him is not really what would be best for his daughter.”
“I see. And the dubious information is exactly what?”
“A collection of suppositions about Lady Juliana.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. The ton did not stop at condemning her for her manner and youth. Instead, they took to making guesses about why she might be that way, and spouting those as purported truth. Everything from there being something wrong with her physically, to there being something wrong with her mind. And when that got boring, after she had retired from society, they began to debate whether she had actually been compromised, seduced, and left in no fit state to go into society again. There are times, Your Grace, when I find myself despising most of the titled, no disrespect to you, you understand.”
“I am in agreeance with that opinion, Sandiford. I believe that you’ve told me what I needed to know. This explains rather a lot. I will have to think on it, for I am curious who, amongst the guests at Hallingbrook Grange, and the people of this town, would both know of all of that vicious gossip, and be willing to spread it – for that is what someone has been doing.”
Sandiford paled, his face a picture of horror.
“Someone here, Your Grace, in this town right now? This is the sort of occurrence I left London to avoid. Now, the few of my clients who are in London still are merchants, business owners and the like. The only nobility I deal with are here. That they might do this…”
“Yes, it is distressing, isn’t it? I will do my best to discover the perpetrator, and deal with them. Thank you for your timely efficiency in obtaining this information. I won’t ask how you did so.”
Mr Sandiford bowed, and Garrett stepped out onto the street, deep in thought.
All of this gave him a much clearer idea of why Lady Juliana retreated, of why she had looked shocked when he had called her beautiful, but it did not explain the way that she had fled his presence – for, surely, he had amply shown that he did not see her as others had?
Obviously, there was something he was missing. Perhaps the evening would provide him a chance to speak with her, to discover more. Even if that did not come to pass, he would have a chance to at least listen to the gossipers, and try to identify where the mutterings had begun.
~~~~~
When they returned to Hallingbrook Grange for the evening, Juliana half expected that the Duke would not be present. Part of her was deeply disappointed at the thought, whilst the more sensible part of her sternly declared that it would be for the best if he was not there. But he was. She saw him the instant she walked through the door into the large parlour. She had not thought it possible for him to look more handsome – but he did.
His somewhat stern manner did nothing to lessen the effect. He stood to one side, almost part of a conversation, but not quite, the light from the candles on the mantle casting his profile into sharp contrast. He turned a little, almost as if feeling her eyes upon him. Their eyes met, and, for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. A tiny smile lit his face, and he gave her the smallest of nods – yet somehow it seemed as full of import as a deep bow might have been.
She stumbled slightly on the edge of the rug, her breath and balance stolen by his look.
And mentally cursed him in that instant, as the eyes of half the room came to rest on her, wobbly as she was. All her preparation, all her care with how she moved, years of careful practice – all were worthless in this man’s presence, it seemed. And she would pay the price, she knew it, saw it in the eyes and the avid expressions of the occupants of the room. Once again, she was marked as wrong, broken, scandalous and food for gossip.
Once her balance was restored, she flicked a glance his way, glaring at him, her expression full of the anger she felt, full of her frustration at her inability to do anything to change what had happened. He almost flinched, and, oddly, that hurt. She turned her gaze away, proceeding obediently after her family.
She could not bear it. The only man that she had ever found the least bit interesting, and it seemed most likely that he was a rake, simply playing with her for his amusement, whilst ruining her reputation all over again. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she forced them away. She could not, simply could not, stay with her mother, watch her sister behave faultlessly and be fawned over, knowing that he stood there, watching, and did not know or care what he had done to her.
She needed to escape. It would have to be the Library again, for she knew where that was, and knew that very few of the guests present, if any, would have reason to go in there. She would slip away as soon as she could. In the end, it took another half hour of excruciating social banality, but eventually they reached a point in the room close to the door to the hallway, and her mother and sister settled into an intense conversation with some women they knew well. Juliana moved away from them, a little at a time, until she could slip through the door.
~~~~~
The Earl of Fondleton leaned idly against the wall, a glass in his hand as always. He seemed to be watching the game of cards in progress at the table in front of him. But, in reality, he was watching the progress of a certain Lady, as she moved around the room with her mother and sister.
Lady Juliana was staying very close to her mother, and if she continued that way, he would, again, be prevented from putting his plans into action. The longer he was unable to get her alone, the more intense his craving to possess her became. He was not used to being denied things. His face bore a smile, but beneath it, his jaw was clenched as he forced himself to wait, to believe that a chance would come.
When he had almost given up hope, and was considering joining a card game, she moved. The mother and sister were deep in conversation, and Lady Juliana simply drifted away from them, ghost-like, unnoticed by the people around her, and slipped through the hallway door. Fondleton’s smile became real.
Casually, he deposited his glass on a nearby table, and sauntered across the room, speaking to an acquaintance here and there on the way, until he also slipped through that door, unnoticed, he hoped. The hallway was empty, but the only door open was the library. This time, he would go in there immediately, not leaving any chance that Kilmerstan might magically appear and thwart him.
Moving as quietly as possible, he stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him.
~~~~~
Juliana had gone immediately to the same shelf as before. Someone had replaced the book she had dropped – she wondered if the Duke had done so himself. Firmly chiding herself for even thinking of him, she pulled the novel from its place, and turned, moving towards the chairs near the unlit fireplace at one side of the room. The candles set on the mantle would provide enough light to read.
As she stood, attempting to decide which of the ill-assorted collection of chairs would be more comfortable, a small noise caught her attention. Surely not! Not again. It had sounded like the click of the door closing. She froze, suddenly afraid. What if it was him? What would she do? Her traitorous mental voice cheerfully suggested, ‘you could allow him to kiss you again’. She forced the thought away.
Whilst she had stood, frozen, it seemed that whoever had entered had crossed the room, for, without warning, strong arms enclosed her from behind. For a second, she hoped – and then she knew – it wasn’t him. This man’s cologne was very, very different – cheap, poorly blended, and an unsuitable choice of scents to combine. It made her want to sneeze.
Panic took her, and she struggled to escape his grasp. The book, seemingly doomed to misfortune, slipped from her grasp, and landed on the chair beside her. She found her voice, and protested.
“Who… what do you want? Unhand me!”
“I think not.”
His answer was a
ccompanied by a coarse laugh, and his hands shifted, sliding up over the front of her body towards her breasts. She struggled again, and he simply used her movements to advantage, and spun her in his grasp, until she was face to face with him. Fondleton. His breath smelled worse than his cologne, and she half choked. He laughed again, and lowered his lips towards hers.
She fought, unthinking, simply terrified, but he held her, and forced a kiss upon her. She wanted to retch. In the depths of her mind, as she struggled, she wondered – how could the same action from two men be so very, very different?
Still holding her tight, he leant back a little, his eyes glittering with what she suspected was lust. She shivered, stilling. If fighting him had not granted her freedom, then she needed to think, to find another way to escape.
“That’s better, my dear Lady. Kisses, and more, can be quite pleasant when you don’t fight them. As I intend to demonstrate to you, at length.”
She shuddered, and he seemed to take pleasure from her reaction, so she forced herself to still again.
“Why? What do you want of me?”
“Isn’t that obvious my dear? I want to take my pleasure with you. I note that you haven’t screamed. Very astute of you. You wouldn’t want to be found like this, now would you? It would destroy what little reputation you have left. But you know, life could be far more pleasant if you cooperate with me. You’d never have to deal with the ton again. I’d give you a lovely little house, and all you’d have to do is please me, as my mistress.”
“No! Why would you think that I would ever…”
“Because, my dear, no-one wants you. You know that. What other choice do you have? Spend your life as a spinster in the house of parents who can barely afford to pay one dowry, let alone two? Or continue to attend social events, ignored, and mocked, hoping that some man, any man, might marry you?”
He laughed at her, laughed harder when her eyes filled with unshed tears. Horror filled her. For he was right – what other options did she have in her life? Yet… she could not bear his touch, her skin crawled where his hands rested on her, and she wanted to wash the memory of his foul kiss from her lips. She could not, ever, be mistress to a man like this.
The Duke and the Spinster_Clean Regency Romance Page 6
