by Joan Vincent
* * * *
Up in her room, Lady Juliane paced. She had seen the two bodyguards on duty outside the children's rooms. Once they had lent an aura security. Now they were a hindrance. How could she manage to get away without them knowing?
A new thought struck her. Had Lord Adrian placed them there to keep an abductor out or to keep the children in? She must have this out with him.
Bess quietly entered the bedchamber. “Will you be wishing to retire now, my lady, or shall I return later?"
"You may retire now, Bess. I shall look after myself.” She waved away Bess's protests.
"I am more accustomed to doing for myself than you would guess. Be on your way. Good night."
There has to be a way out, she thought. This is not a prison. Lord Adrian seems to desire to please me in all things, for whatever good it does him. Mayhap I can use this.
If only I could dispense with the guards. Yes, I have it.
There will be no need to speak with the earl. Now for a good night's rest. I will need it.
Juliane soon fell into a fitful sleep. Hounded by dreams of disaster, she twisted and turned. The dream became reality when she realized the hand upon her shoulder was not a product of her imagination. Her scream was stifled by a firm hand.
"Calm yourself, there is nothing to fear. I must speak with you,” Lord Adrian said urgently.
She stared at the figure before her. His hair was windswept and his breeches and boots mud-stained. In the candlelight there was something frightening in his pose.
She pulled the covers higher. “What is it you want?"
Smiling ruefully at her action, Lord Adrian relaxed imperceptibly and sat on the bed. “I am sorry to frighten you in this way, but Mallatt has told me that guests will arrive two days hence. We must be in agreement on several points before they reach Trees."
"I see no need, my lord."
"When will you end this pretence?” he asked and gripped her wrist. “You have no choice but to do as I command."
"No one commands me,” Juliane threw back. She attempted to wrench her wrist free.
Capturing both her hands and holding them painfully, Lord Adrian hissed, “You will obey me."
Lady Juliane stemmed her anger with recollection of her plans for the morrow. She choked out a weak, “Yes, my lord."
Lord Adrian froze at this unexpected answer when he had fully expected a major row. “I am glad you have come to your senses at last. It will ease things for both of us.
"When Lord and Lady Stern and our other visitors arrive, you will answer their questions truthfully—to an extent. At all times, be vague as to the length of our marriage. Simply ignore questions concerning the children. The only facts we will be open about is that you have been in France with the children and we will reveal your family name."
"But, my lord,” Juliane said, momentarily forgetting her resolution, “that would leave me open to all manner of questions and,” she ended bitterly, “ensure my downfall."
"Never fear for that, I have my plans. Did the garments I ordered arrive?"
"Yes, my lord,” she answered tartly.
"Were they satisfactory?"
"But what else, my lord,” Juliane snapped. “If that is all you wish, I would like to return to sleep."
Something in her voice disturbed Lord Adrian. She had not quibbled or refused the garments. Something was amiss. This decided him against telling her of the progress being made in locating the abductors—the reason for his absence.
"I bid you good night then, my lady. Sleep well.” Taking the candle and turning to leave, his eye caught the neatly stacked boxes and parcels in the shadows of the far corner of the room. Shifting his gaze back to Lady Juliane, he asked, “We are in agreement?"
"Of course, my lord. As you say, I have little choice."
Juliane watched as the door closed behind him. “I must be successful tomorrow. For my sake as well as the children's!"
CHAPTER 15
The morning brought heart-sinking disappointment to Lady Juliane. The weather had proven completely uncooperative. Her plans were of no use.
Juliane stood gazing out of the floor-length windows which graced the outer wall of the smaller family salon. The rain pelted mercilessly against them and the wind swept savagely through the budding branches of the trees. There would be no venturing outdoors this day.
Engrossed in these thought Lady Juliane did not know anyone had entered the room until she heard, just behind her, “Such weather is depressing, is it not?"
Starting at the unexpected intrusion, Juliane drew in a breath when she turned her head and saw Lord Adrian at her side. She relaxed slightly. He can not read my thoughts.
Adrian watched the play of emotions on Juliane's features and stifled a smile as she assumed an unconcerned air.
"It is just that I had planned an outing for the children today, my lord. I had not told them, so they are spared the disappointment, but I had looked forward to it."
"I dislike seeing you disappointed,” Lord Adrian said. “And your time with the children will be considerably lessened once our house guests begin to arrive on the morrow. I have an idea. You shall have your outing."
"In this weather? It is impossible."
"We need not go outdoors for an outing. You will see.” Lord Adrian smiled conspiratorially. “Bring the children to this room for their luncheon."
"As you wish, my lord,” Juliane answered carelessly.
"Come, can you not show more interest than this?” he asked with an injured air. Would his attempts to win her approval never succeed?
Lady Juliane paused. It was difficult to determine whether his injured expression was sincere or just more of his usual mockery. “I am sorry to appear ungrateful, my lord,” she said tiredly, “but you realize I do not wish to continue this deception."
"Do not tell the children anything,” he said, ignoring her words.
"As you wish, my lord.” Lady Juliane turned back to the window. There was a long silence and then she heard the doors close.
Sinking into one of the chairs near the fireplace, Juliane had the uncommon urge to cry. What was wrong with her these days? Why should Lord Adrian have such an unsettling effect on her whenever he came near? Whenever she thought of him?
* * * *
André bubbled over with questions when Lady Juliane led him and Leora from their rooms to the small salon in which they were to have their “outing.” They waited impatiently for Holdt to open the doors.
"Hurry—come in,” called Lord Adrian when the butler did so.
The children rushed toward him. Lady Juliane followed more slowly. The miniature frame scene Lord Adrian had constructed halted them in their steps.
Green boughs from cedars and pines, and flowers from the estate's greenhouses gave a breath of spring and openness to the room. A small flock of chicks and ducks scurried about the room.
A tiny lamb nuzzled Leora, who responded with a tentative pat. Then babbling happily she sank both hands and face into the lambs soft wool.
André's puppy bounded atop him and they fell into a happy heap upon the floor.
Lady Juliane could only shake her head in wonder. What had put such an idea into the earl's head?
"Do you approve, Juliane?” Lord Adrian asked. He took her hand and led her before a large cloth spread before the fire. It was laden with all the ingredients necessary for an outdoor feast. Several large pillows had been placed around the cloth.
"May I assist you?” Lord Adrian asked, nodding at the pillows.
She inclined her head and he took her other hand to assist Juliane as she sat down on one of the pillows. Lord Adrian held them longer than was strictly necessary.
Glancing up, Juliane's breath caught at the look in the earl's eyes. Doubts fled as warmth flared to life within her breast. When his lips brushed her inner wrist, her pulse leapt wildly.
Adrian raised his gaze to hers. The children, their surroundings, all were forgotten in the sile
nt burst of emotion that enveloped them. Their gazes held with spellbinding force until the children demanded their attention.
Leora insistently pulled at Juliane's gown and André yanked harder at Lord Adrian's coat.
Releasing Juliane's hand with a sigh of regret, Lord Adrian picked up André and tossed him in the air. “What is it, mon fin compagnon?"
"We are affame. Can we not eat?” demanded André.
"You will have to wait to eat, André,” laughed Lady Juliane. “Leora has ‘requested’ a certain change be made first."
Seeing the puddle beneath Leora's feet, Lord Adrian burst into laughter. “You see to the change, Juliane. I shall see to ‘repairs’ here. Hurry though—you have two hungry bears waiting."
"Oui,” echoed André, “hurry."
Returning a short time later, Lady Juliane and Leora found Lord Adrian and André seated upon the cushions. André swallowed guiltily and grinned. Leora ran on tiptoes and plopped down on a pillow beside them.
Lord Adrian rose, bowed exaggeratedly to Lady Juliane, and seated her. Shaking out a napkin, he draped it across her lap.
Laughing at his manner, Juliane said, “No, my lord, you must not. I shall serve myself."
He bowed so low that even André laughed. Startled, Leora looked about. Lord Adrian plucked her up and tossed her into the air. Her alarm turned into enthusiastic jabbering.
André was up in an instant. He begged for the same. Lowering Leora, Lord Adrian swung André up, then, pretending he was about to drop him, staggered about and collapsed on the cushions. The salon resounded with their gaiety.
Servants passing the salon's closed doors for the next hour smiled at the laughter emanating from within it. It was good, indeed, to have the master home and the house full of the sounds of happiness.
* * * *
Alva lifted a weary Leora to her shoulder.
"André, you must go also,” admonished Lord Adrian as the boy backed away from Alva's outstretched hand. “We will have more outings."
"Do you promise?” sniffed André.
"I give my promise as a gentleman,” he answered taking André by the hand and leading him to Alva. “And you know a gentleman always keeps his word. Now off with you.” Giving the boy a pat, he held the door as Alva and the children passed through. After they left, he turned and approached Lady Juliane, who had risen.
"There is still some time before we have to dress for dinner. Come with me.” Taking her hand, he led her from the salon.
"Holdt,” he called, “see to the menagerie in the salon and tell all those who helped that it was an unmitigated success."
"Yes, my lord. I will be most pleased to do so."
"We are going to the library. See that we are NOT interrupted."
"Yes, my lord."
* * * *
In the library Lady Juliane edged closer to her corner as Lord Adrian sat beside her on the small sofa before the fire. She had been so completely at ease with him during their “outing” that she had forgotten her fears and plans. Seeing the earl's serious expression as he gazed into the fire, her anxiety returned.
A low sigh escaped Lord Adrian. Leaning back, he placed his arm atop the sofa, half encircling Lady Juliane. “You enjoyed the afternoon."
It was a statement, not a question, but she felt impelled to reply. “It was delightful, my lord. I must thank you ... for the children.” Juliane tried to stifle a troubling thought.
"But, something about it has upset you,” he stated quietly.
"No, my lord. It could not have been improved upon. It is just—” She hesitated, then honesty gained the upper hand. She looked away. “I do wish you had not given your promise to André."
"But it is a promise easily kept."
Lady Juliane wrung her hands. It was so disquieting having him so near. Would her heart not be still?
Lord Adrian placed his hand atop hers firmly and Juliane turned to him.
Looking up from his strong slim hand Juliane met his gaze. It made her heart race and, as he leaned closer, all her fears faded away.
He paused, his eyes searching hers.
Juliane read the ardent question in them. Tumult wracked her heart, pushing aside her carefully nourished reservations.
Slowly Adrian brushed a tendril from her cheek. His touch brought a flush to her cheeks.
I must not let myself be drawn to this man, she thought, even as she yielded to the hand drawing her to him. Their lips brushed lightly. Juliane drew back. One last question had to be asked before she surrendered to the emotion pulsing through her.
"What, my angel?” Adrian asked with velvet gentleness, his desire tightly reined.
Just as Juliane opened her mouth to ask, the library doors were thrown open.
Lord Adrian was on his feet instantly, a low “Damnation!” as he turned.
His withdrawal set Lady Juliane adrift in a sea of confusion with no lifeline near. Had she been saved, or had her chance for true happiness been lost?
Lord Adrian's shout of joy at the sight of the elegant gentleman entering was lost upon her, but the answering reply was not; it was French.
Juliane's confusion was replaced by fear and uncertainty as she rose to confront the two men gazing at her.
"Ah, I can see why you were not to be disturbed, mon ami. Most decidedly.” He made a leg elegantly, moving his lace-covered hands in gallant acknowledgment of Lady Juliane.
"My dear, may I present Louís Joseph Marie Coceau, Comte de Cavilón."
She curtsied appropriately.
"Louís, my wife, Lady Juliane."
Lady Juliane glanced sharply at Lord Adrian and turned from his look. A look that could make one believe he had just introduced a woman whom he was proud and happy to call his wife.
How skilful he is, she thought, hardening her heart. Lord Tretain is more dangerous than I imagined.
No, Juliane amended sadly. It is your heart that threatens betrayal. She needed solitude to gain a firmer grip on her emotions.
"If you will excuse me, my lords, I must retire to dress for dinner."
"Of course, Juliane,” replied Lord Adrian. He took her hand and led her to the door. “I have instructed Bess as to which gown I wish you to wear this evening. I will come to personally escort you to dinner,” he added lowly so only she could hear.
Failing to fathom his look, Lady Juliane glanced beyond him. “My lord,” she said, nodding to the comte as she left.
Lord Adrian watched her briefly, then turned back to his friend. “Must you always have such abominable timing?” he uttered cryptically. “One would think you Frenchmen know nothing of love."
The comte puzzled over this, then laughed. “I receive your most urgent summons, bid farewell to my most promising ‘companion, and travelled in the most damnable weather. When I arrive I am informed that you are with your ‘family’ and cannot be disturbed.
"Naturellement I was happy to be given occasion to make myself presentable, but to be kept waiting for an hour by an epouse?” He cocked his head in silent question.
"I did not think you would ever marry, mon ami. Do you not recall the time I discovered you in that little inn in Riems pretending to be a cleric? I had decided that was more than a masque."
Tretain grinned wryly. “Is that why you told the young lady there that I was dément?"
"How could I know you wished to hear her confession?” Cavilón asked as he sat with exaggerated delicacy. “So frauduleux,” he smiled.
"But effective—no thanks to you."
"If I recall correctly, you were able to get your proof against Monsieur Refand. Has he had opportunity to sell more English military plans since then?
"But you know,” Cavilón continued, waving aside the obvious reply, “your disguise as a chevalier shortly after that must have been vastly more entertaining. That time I was no hindrance."
"No,” Tretain smiled warmly at his friend. “Without you my life would have been forfeit, for they had grown suspicious. But that
was long ago,” he shrugged the reminiscence aside. “I was very green then."
"Your government did not value you highly enough, Adrian, to have used you so dangerously."
"They had to know if that villain the Comte de Pauleux was using his connections to pass on false information. The treaty for the Peace of Paris was being drafted ... But that was ten years past. The comte was not successful. Neither was the treaty,” he ended wryly.
"Non,” Cavilón agreed. “And you continue in your dangerous ways. Lord Palmer told me of your recent journey to France and how fruitful it proved. You not only learned the direction of the army and its generals’ intent, but spirited Lord Evansly to freedom as well.
"I congratulate you, mon ami.” The comte eyed his friend steadily.
"You forget Arblay.” Adrian's lips tightened into a thin line. “I was not able to secure his safety."
Cavilón shrugged. “Yes, a regrettable loss but unavoidable in the circumstances. You betrayed nothing and nearly lost your life as well."
"Arblay did lose his.” Tretain shook his head. “But what of you? With the king executed—"
"We dwell on unpleasant matters ... most désegréable,” Cavilón dismissed the earl's words.
"Tell me, how have you reconciled this ‘work’ you do for the government with your wife?"
"She knows nothing of it,” Tretain answered curtly. “Since Palmer now has you in his coils—do not deny it. It is the only way you could have learned as much as you did,” he continued lightly. “There may be no need for my services in the future.
"Let us speak no more on it. I have a more serious matter to discuss. Come, I will explain as I dress."
* * * *
Lady Juliane seethed as she paced.
Close to tears, Bess could not understand what had so upset her ladyship. Why, one would think she was angry at his lordship, and how could that be?
After all, the gowns, undergarments, and accessories were the finest and most beautiful one could imagine. Bess had thought it an added touch of kindness that the earl had ordered the unpacking. He had explained that Lady Juliane was much too busy to see to it.
So why this tantrum? The servants downstairs had said that one could never understand the Quality. At this moment Bess was ready to agree.
