by Joan Vincent
Lady Juliane awoke very slowly. Lying absolutely still, she opened her eyes. Pale streaks of light had begun to pierce the darkness.
How long have I slept? she wondered. It must be morning. In the dim light she spied a cot upon which she surmised Alva had spent the night. Nowhere could she see André.
A deep rumble called attention to the fact that she had not eaten in over twenty-four hours. Well rested, her appetite was once more full blown.
Hearing faint sounds from the kitchen that meant Meg was preparing breakfast, Juliane decided to rise. Sitting up, she remembered that all her garments were in Lord Tretain's room. Grimacing at this, she decided his lordship would not awake before noon. She could easily be quiet enough to avoid detection.
Fully awakened by the chilling cold when she stepped out of bed, Juliane slowly eased open the door to the chamber where Lord Tretain slept. The fire was a heap of dull red coals, but the window allowed enough light for her to make her way. Easing the door shut, Lady Juliane edged halfway past the bed. The sight therein caused her to gasp and halt.
Cuddled next to Lord Adrian, arm flung atop the earl's chest, lay André. Astonishment easing, she gazed at the picture the two presented with some fondness.
"Asleep, my lord, you present a most different impression,” she murmured. Shaking her head over it, Lady Juliane made her way to the old wardrobe in which Meg had insisted upon placing her garments.
The door creaked as she carefully opened it. Juliane glanced hastily at Lord Adrian, but he had not stirred. With her back to him she hurriedly removed her nightgown. She donned the suitable undergarments and petticoats, and slipped the gown over all—very thankful that Providence had guided her to purchase a both a corset and a gown with frontal closures.
With periodic, furtive glances at Lord Adrian, she was certain he had not been roused. Fully clothed, hosed, and shod, she flung a shawl about her shoulders and made for the door.
Pausing once more at the foot of the bed, Juliane stared at the pair asleep in it. She found it difficult to believe that Lord Tretain had actually shared his bed with a small boy. It may be I have misjudged him, she thought. In all candour, his first impression of me could not have been other than what it was.
Perversely, this brought a smile to her lips as she thought of her brother and his new wife. Their reaction to the situation would be completely predictable. They would have them married out of hand.
At that thought her smile turned into a frown. Had this idea occurred to Lord Adrian? He certainly had not been gentlemanly enough to mention it in their encounter. It would never suit. Setting her jaw, Lady Juliane went from the room. Marriage would be a most unacceptable solution.
Meg greeted Juliane with a smile as she came into the kitchen. “Bless ye, m'lady, ye should still be abed."
"No, Meg, I feel perfectly restored and,” she laughed, “as hungry as the cattle the boys went out to give fodder."
"Ah, a hearty appetite be the best sign o’ health. We needn't be worrin’ about ye,” Meg answered, pleased.
"No, indeed. I have always been in good health.
"How are the children?” Juliane asked, walking toward the cradle.
"Both be hale and hearty. Just be a twit careful o’ the babe and ye'll have no trouble. Even Lord Tretain be recoverin’ as fast as the sun pops o'er the horizon. Mallatt was sore tried to keep him abed the night past.
"Askin’ for ye, real kind like, he was,” she added artlessly, as Mallatt had hinted at some trouble between the lord and his lady.
Lady Juliane frowned, certain Lord Tretain had been most “solicitous."
Seeing Leora stir, she drew back the blanket that covered the babe. As she removed the soaked nappy and nightdress, she asked with seeming innocence, “How did André come to spend the night in Lord Tretain's chamber?"
"Ah,” said Meg, stirring the morning's porridge industriously. “I do think that be Mallatt's doings,” she chuckled. “He took the lad up with him when he took his lordship's broth up.
"When I went up to check on ye an’ yer lord, Master André was perched up on the bed listenin’ to some tale of yer lord's. Mallatt asked where the boy would be sleepin’ seein’ as ye were in Alva's bed. I hadna’ worried about it and said as much.
"Master André, he pops up with, ‘why don't I sleep with mon père?’ Mallatt, he scolded him serious-like, but Lord Tretain stopped him and said the boy could sleep with him. Mallatt acted like this was most displeasin', but ye should o’ seen the grin he gave me when he came down later.
"That Mallatt, he's one as has a head on his shoulders.” She chuckled once more to herself.
Having gotten Leora to a state of dryness, Lady Juliane settled into the rocker with the babe on her lap. She cooed and Leora smiled. Chucking the babe's chin Juliane laughed when Leora grabbed hold her finger and tried to suck on it.
With hair hanging loose and engaged in playing with the child, she presented a charming picture to Mallatt when he entered.
If only my lord could see this, he thought. Let us hope that Master André has had the proper effect.
"Good morning, my lady. I am most pleased to see you looking so well. How fares Mistress Leora?"
"She is very well, thank you, Mallatt. Were you able to get enough?"
"Yes, my lady. His lordship continues to improve rapidly, in spite of his head,” he added soberly. This drew a smile from Lady Juliane as he wished.
"I must go to him now. Master André may have awakened early. Excuse me, my lady."
Juliane's gaze followed the valet as he left the kitchen. The oddest notion that he was plotting something nibbled at her—but what could it be?
* * * *
A shriek of laughter, followed by a profusion of giggles, met Mallatt when he entered his lord's chamber. He marvelled at the sight of Lord Adrian wrestling and tickling André, both rolling wildly amid the sheets and coverlets. Beaming at the pair, and congratulating himself on his strategy thus far, Mallatt decided there definitely was hope in the situation. Especially if he could but smooth the way between the two adults and keep them together for a sufficient amount of time.
Spying Mallatt, Lord Adrian coltishly heaved a pillow at him, then assisted André in doing the same.
"It is a pleasure to see you so well this morning, my lord,” remarked Mallatt drolly. He plumped the pillows and returned them to the bed.
"Master André, how do you fare?"
"He is very well,” answered Lord Adrian ruffling André's curls, “and we are as hungry as two ... tigers."
"Oui, two tigers. Tante Ju...” he halted fear stricken. “Mama has told me of tigers,” he finished clumsily.
"How does your mama know of tigers?” asked Lord Adrian, his interest pricked, especially by the “tante."
"She saw many of them in India,” André replied importantly.
"In India? When was this?"
"Je ne me rappelle pas,” answered André with just enough of stubbornness to let Lord Adrian know he would learn little more.
India, Adrian reflected. That would explain the unladylike tan. But the children, at least André, were not tanned. Had she been travelling without them? Was her husband in the king's service? He was distracted from further thought when André pounced on him.
After allowing them to wrestle briefly, Mallatt drew André from the bed. With a stout slap to the boy's seat, he instructed him to find Alva and have her dress him.
Giving Mallatt a wrathful glare for interrupting his romp with Lord Adrian, André petulantly left the chamber.
"Bring hot water for my shave, Mallatt. I feel fully repaired this morning. Where are my clothes?” Lord Adrian asked cheerfully.
"You will get out of bed today, my lord? That would be most unwise,” replied Mallatt, alarmed. How was he to keep the pair together if Lord Adrian insisted upon recovering so quickly?
"Nonsense. Sometimes I think ‘most unwise’ constitutes your entire vocabulary. Lay out my garments before you get the
hot water. What humour did you find my fair ‘wife’ in this morning?"
Mallatt glanced inquiringly at Lord Adrian. “She appears in fine fettle. I left her amusing the babe, Leora,” he answered carelessly.
"Where has she been taking her meals?"
"We have been eating with the family, my lord—that being Lady Juliane's wish and certainly the most practical solution considering the situation,” he answered, laying out breeches and waistcoat.
"Not too high in the instep, is she. That is commendable to a degree,” stated Lord Adrian as he stood, swayed slightly, and righted himself. He held a hand out, warning Mallatt to stay back. “My water, if you are finished."
"Yes, my lord."
After Mallatt departed, Lord Adrian sat back upon the bed. He was weaker than he wanted to admit and would have to nurse what strength he possessed.
Mallatt found the earl reclining lazily on the bed when he returned. He almost dropped the bowl of hot water when he was greeted with, “You may shave me now."
"Yes, my lord?” he repeated dumbly. The earl had always insisted upon shaving himself.
"Come, Mallatt. You have ached to tend to me ‘properly’ for over ten years. Now is your moment. You may shave and dress me,” Lord Adrian told him matter-of-factly.
This was so out of the ordinary that Mallatt began the task with some trepidation. An hour later found both lord and valet close to wishing the other in Hades.
With the task well-nigh accomplished, Mallatt said with relief, “I am sorry there is no looking glass, my lord. You do look ... quite well turned out."
Lord Adrian's coat could not be termed dashing, but its cut was superb and the sombre hues complemented Lord Adrian's peppered hair and narrow visage. He viewed Mallatt's pronouncement sceptically, but was at a loss as to how to improve his appearance without the aid of a looking glass.
Observing his lord's preening with an optimistic eye, Mallatt judged it a favourable sign. On the ordinary the earl was not so concerned with his looks. There could be but one person in this cottage for which the effort could be justified
With a grimace of futility, Lord Adrian mumbled to himself.
"Yes, my lord?” asked Mallatt, properly devoid of expression.
Throwing him a distasteful glance, Lord Adrian chose to ignore the question and proceeded down the stairs.
They entered the kitchen simultaneously with Jove and his sons. This coincidence gave rise to much stammering, bowing, and confusion until Lord Adrian silenced everyone.
Offering his hand to the farmer, he said, “I take it you are Jove. I offer my profound thanks for what you have done for me ... and for my family."
Jove stared at the proffered hand, then hurriedly shook it. “Nuthin', my lord. Nuthin'."
An awkward silence followed as the family was not quite certain what to do. It was one thing to sit to table with Lady Juliane, but this man did not have the look of one who invited familiarity.
Surmising the trouble, Lord Adrian flashed his most winning smile at Meg. “Your broth has been most tasteful, but I am famished to the core. Could we not all be seated? I am certain your menfolk have a hearty appetite after their early morning's work."
Lady Juliane rose to join them all at table. Her uncertainty about Lord Adrian's behaviour toward her made her steps hesitant. She almost balked when the earl took the chair Mallatt was holding for her.
"Good morning, my dear,” Lord Adrian told her. “You are looking quite fetching this morning, as is Leora.” He made a brief leg gracefully.
Not trusting her reply, Juliane glowered at him but permitted him to seat her.
Mallatt deftly drew out the chair next to her which gave Lord Adrian little choice as to seating.
Lady Juliane watched in amazement as Tretain quickly set the family at ease. He spoke with Jove knowledgeably on various agrarian problems, asked the sons questions on hunting in the neighbourhood, and complimented Meg's cooking. She could see them fall under his spell.
A new side of you, my lord, she thought. With that beguiling charm you could win over a stone. But Juliane remained suspicious and could not reconcile herself to being friendly despite his repeated efforts to charm her.
* * * *
Mallatt viewed the scene before him with pleasure. To all appearances it was a happy family. Lady Juliane applied herself to some needlework—a bit too diligently for his purposes. Lord Adrian sat opposite in a comfortable chair claimed from the meagre furnishings of the parlour in honour of his presence. He had declined the use of the parlour, deeming it too chilly, much to Meg and Jove's relief as it had become their temporary quarters.
Lord Adrian divided his attention between contemplation of the fire, Juliane, André, and finally Leora, who played on a coverlet near the fire.
André objected occasionally to Leora biting on his tin soldiers—a depleted regiment of six, the only toys he had salvaged from Rouen—but otherwise he amused her tolerably.
Leora tired of this soon and struggled upright. She glanced about the room and then made straight for Lord Adrian. Grasping his knees, she cooed up at him.
The earl turned his reflective gaze from the fire, and smiled briefly at the happy babe.
Lady Juliane laid her work aside. “No, Leora, come here. Come."
"Never mind,” Lord Adrian surprised himself. He reached down and drew Leora to his lap. “She is fine."
"But, my lord,” began Juliane, then desisted when he shook his head.
To Lord Adrian's consternation, Leora found it great fun to destroy his cravat and chew on one end.
To Mallatt's surprise the earl suffered this and many tugs on his shirt-front lace. He could never remember his lordship taking much interest in children, much less allowing them near his person.
Marking Lord Adrian's attention to Leora, André dropped his toy soldiers and ran to climb aboard also. Another shake of the earl's head stifled Lady Juliane's protest. Soon he had both children laughing wildly as he tickled and coaxed them with all manner of silly faces.
Watching them, everyone else in the room was soon chuckling, including Juliane. No one who could amuse the children so expertly, could be all bad, she decided.
Glancing at her across the heads of the children, Lord Adrian nodded approvingly. “So happy to see you in better spirits, ‘my dear.’”
Lady Juliane started to frown, then clapped a hand over her mouth to still a laughing gasp.
Lord Adrian was confounded by this for a moment. Then, looking down to find the source of an unexpected warmth on his leg, he froze at the sight of a slowly spreading stain.
His expression caused Juliane to burst into unrestrained laughter as she rose and took Leora from his lap.
Puzzled as to the cause of Lady Juliane's sudden gaiety, Meg rose from her mending and drew near. She quickly spied the stain on Lord Adrian's leg. Tisking loudly Meg took Leora from Lady Juliane and called Alva to take Master André. “Bedtime for all, I do think,” she said.
Juliane sat down, weak from laughter. She could not recall the last time she had laughed so hard. Becoming aware that Lord Adrian was closely observing her, she tried to achieve a look of proper chagrin. “I tried to warn you, my lord."
"I would not deny myself such a novel experience,” he said dryly, “when it brings such a lovely hue to your cheeks."
Blushing, she became wary. Compliments of this sort were not commonly hers.
Seeing suspicion pass over her features, Lord Adrian wondered at its cause.
"Do you desire me to assist you, my lord?” asked Mallatt.
Lady Juliane's reaction to this question brought an impish gleam to Lord Adrian's eye.
"We will manage, won't we ‘my dear'?” he replied, rising and taking her by the arm.
She opened her mouth to object, but it dawned unpleasantly that she could not do so without revealing their deception. Trying to ascertain just what course lay before her, she allowed Adrian to lead her to the stairs. At the foot she looked furtive
ly from Lord Adrian and then to Meg.
"I must see to Leora and André."
"Meg, you would not mind tucking them in this eve, would you?"
"Of course not, my lord. You go right up,” she replied, smiling broadly.
Lord Adrian swallowed the chuckle caused by the panic in Juliane's face. He guided her to the bedchamber and left her standing just inside the door as he shut it and walked to the scarred wardrobe. He removed his jacket, and unbuttoned his waistcoat before he turned to her.
"How do you propose to spend the night, my lord?” she asked coldly.
"Comfortably."
"Comfortably? My lord, you must realize that to stay this night in this room could not but destroy my reputation."
"Indeed? In the eyes of all your reputation was in shreds the moment we were placed abed together. I do hope your lord will not be too pettish about that,” he added, turning back to the wardrobe to place his waistcoat inside. He drew the remains of his cravat from his neck and let it drop.
As he began to unbutton his shirt, Juliane gaped in disbelief. “Truly, my lord, you do not mean to disrobe?"
"I do not make it a habit to place my nightshirt over my garments,” he assured her coolly.
"You are unspeakable. Is there not the least gleam of gentlemanly manners about you?” Striding to the door, she grasped the knob only to find her hand enclosed in an iron grip. His breath brushed her cheek and her heart lurched.
"You know I cannot remain in this room,” she said with false calmness.
"Do I?” Removing Juliane's hand from the knob, he turned her toward him. Their gazes met and held—hers a mixture of fear, anger, and uncertainty; his, only guarded coldness.
"I mean you no harm. Tomorrow we will leave here. The Red Fox is in Wendon, only slightly out of our way to Trees. We will safely leave you and the children there. No one ever need know of the past week or of this night."
"I cannot spend the night in this room,” she repeated.
"And where shall you go? If it be downstairs, Meg will only send you back. She values marriage, you know."
"Then neither of us shall have any sleep."
"Oh no, my beauty. If you wish, you may remain awake, but you will not dictate how I spend the night."
