by Carla Kelly
Gabriel tilted his head and Monty knew he was watching Juliet. ‘If you had to be forced to wed, Lady Juliet is an ideal choice, if you want my opinion.’
Monty hadn’t asked for his opinion years ago when he planned to marry Juliet. As a young man, and the youngest brother, he was eager to exert his independence away from his family, especially Gabriel, who as a duke was accustomed to having people do what he wanted. Monty had come to believe he had proposed to Juliet because part of him wanted to prove he would lead the life he wanted, not the one his family thought he should. But it wasn’t until he had become partners with John Temple in his shipping company that he truly felt independent from his family’s influence.
‘If you’d like any pointers on wedding-night etiquette, I’m sure Gabriel and I can offer you some suggestions,’ Andrew said, openly amused with his own statement.
Monty could usually take his brothers’ playful teasing. Not today.
‘Excuse me. I believe I need to escort my wife into breakfast.’ Not waiting for a response, he walked towards Juliet.
She took the arm he offered without a word and allowed him to lead her into the formal dining room where they spent the next two hours surrounded by their family and barely spoke to one another.
Chapter Four
Monty sat in the drawing room where he had pledged himself to Juliet before God that morning and nursed a glass of brandy. The house was dark and quiet now. From what he could tell, everyone had gone to bed, which was where he should have been—with his wife. But he just couldn’t bring himself to enter their bedchamber.
He’d had sex with a few women in his life. Each one was very willing to be a participant in the act. Juliet, he was certain, would not be. He would never force himself on her. Just the idea of going upstairs and taking her, knowing how she felt about him, was making his stomach turn. It didn’t matter if it was their wedding night. He couldn’t do it.
But if they didn’t have sex now, would they ever?
He needed the brandy to help him alleviate some of his agitation and try to forget what a mess his life had become in such a short time. At this late hour, it was a strong possibility he was going to spend the entire night in this wingback chair near the warm fire burning in the hearth. The sun had gone down hours ago and Monty was content to sit there with just the dim light from the fireplace casting flickering shadows about the room. It was less complicated down here than it was upstairs with his wife.
Swirling the brandy in his glass, he watched the light play through the amber liquid that matched the colour of Juliet’s eyes. He recalled the sadness he saw in them as he slid the wedding band upon her finger. He had put that sadness there with his indiscretion and quest to find another kiss that would affect him the way her kiss had.
What would today have felt like if they had never met four years earlier at the Earl of Haslington’s ball when her thick brown hair and fine features caught his eye? What if he had never felt that jolt of excitement course through his body when he touched her gloved hand as they went to dance for the first time together? And what if they hadn’t been so drawn to one another that they found ways to sneak off together at the various entertainments that week so they could enjoy each other’s company without the eyes of the ton on them?
Would Juliet still be sad about being forced to marry him now? Would Monty have pursued her had his brother introduced them six months ago when Andrew became engaged to Charlotte?
He was a different man now from the one who had impulsively proposed to Juliet after knowing her for only a week. Since that time, he had established a life for himself away from his family’s work protecting the Crown and found success with his investments in shipping. Now he no longer needed his family’s financial assistance and could support himself, a wife and some children.
And more importantly, Juliet no longer had a guardian who needed to approve of the man she married. She was able to make that decision for herself.
If only time had been on their side.
Monty’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He peered around the edge of the high-backed chair and found Andrew standing in the door in his banyan with a startled expression.
‘What are you doing here?’ his brother asked, stepping into the room.
‘I could ask the same of you. Were you planning on meeting someone? I do not think Charlotte would approve.’
‘Don’t be daft. Charlotte left her book in here earlier and she’s having trouble sleeping. She thought a bit of reading might help and here I am.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘I’m surprised to see you. I saw the light under the door and wondered who was in here.’
‘Well, now you know. Now you can rest easy with the knowledge that no thief was trying to steal the Meissen from the mantel.’ Monty turned back around and returned to studying his glass.
The sound of Andrew’s muffled footsteps retreated and the click of the door closing was a welcome relief. He just wanted to be left in peace. However, the peace did not last long because, a short while later, Andrew returned with another glass and a bottle of brandy. He flopped into the wingback chair next to Monty.
‘There is no need to stay with me,’ Monty offered not too subtly. ‘You are free to find your wife’s book and return it to her.’
‘Thank you for your permission to do so.’
Monty took a sip of his brandy and the warm liquid slid down his throat. ‘I am simply saying I prefer to be alone at the moment.’
‘Wedding nights can be difficult, especially when you are not very well acquainted with your bride.’ Andrew poured himself a glass of brandy, lowered the bottle to the floor beside his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles. ‘Would you like to talk about anything?’
‘No, I believe I can manage my wedding night. I know what should occur. I’m aware how it’s done.’
Andrew dropped his head back. ‘Well, I should damned well hope so. I assume you and Juliet have already accomplished that.’ He looked over at Monty. ‘Why are you down here and not upstairs, asleep in your wife’s arms at this late hour?’
‘Like your wife, I find I can’t sleep.’ It was easier saying that than confessing that Juliet despised him so much he couldn’t bring himself to touch her.
But even though he tried to hide it, his brother was always too perceptive. ‘You need to fix whatever is broken between you and your wife. Do not make the mistakes Gabriel and I have with our wives and let things fester too long. The longer the strife goes on, the harder it becomes to try and sort out the problem.’
‘What makes you think Juliet and I have a problem?’
‘You are down here drinking alone on your wedding night and not asleep beside your bride.’ He arched a superior brow. ‘And I noticed you barely spoke to each other today.’
‘We don’t have that much in common.’ Which was the furthest thing from the truth or at least that had been the case years ago, but perhaps they no longer did have anything in common. He didn’t know and felt his brow wrinkle.
Andrew took a sip from his glass. ‘You don’t need to have much in common to be able to be cordial with one another and discuss things over a meal—which did not occur during breakfast. I know there is discord between the two of you. I noticed it the night I introduced you. I don’t know what it is and I do not know what has caused it, but you need to find a way to address it.’
After all this time, Monty still couldn’t talk about the humiliating things Skeffington had said to him and how the man had refused to allow him to marry Juliet. And his sense of honour and protectiveness over Juliet would always prevent him from telling anyone that she had then proposed that they run away and elope.
‘Juliet and I just don’t like each other. Haven’t you ever met someone and, for some unknown reason, you just don’t like them?’
Andrew did not look convinced
. ‘May I make a suggestion?’
‘Please go right ahead. I know I will not be able to stop you.’ Monty took a fortifying sip.
‘Tomorrow...rather, today is Christmas Eve. We each have our own responsibilities to provide decorations for this house. After the sun has come up and you’ve eaten your lion’s share of breakfast you will leave, as you always do, to gather the mistletoe. This year take Juliet with you.’
‘Why? Why, after I told you we just don’t like each other, would you suggest I take her with me?’
‘Because the two of you need time alone...away from everyone in this house. You and your wife might find the physical exertion of traipsing through the crisp cold air does wonders for airing grievances. Use the time wisely.’
‘You have no notion what it takes to gather mistletoe in this park. It doesn’t grow near the house. We will be gone for a long time.’
‘All the better. Just advise Juliet to take a scarf and have an enjoyable time,’ Andrew said while not even trying to hide his smile in his glass.
‘An enjoyable time? That will not be enjoyable. Dragging Juliet through the woods is not how I want to spend my Christmas Eve.’
‘Here’s another suggestion. Don’t drag her. And you should have thought of the consequences before you arranged your tryst with Miss Fellsworth.’
‘You are going to lecture me on propriety? You must be joking. I am a grown man, not a young boy. I don’t need you lecturing me on how I should conduct my life or manage my wife.’
As the youngest brother, Monty always felt the need to prove he was just as smart and capable as his older brothers. Setting himself apart and proving he could succeed without their help was something he had always felt he needed to do since a very young age. He always wanted to feel like their equal, not like the little brother who just followed them around.
Andrew took a long drink. It was obvious to Monty he was trying to choose his words carefully.
‘You are right. I am not one to be lecturing you on propriety, however, I hadn’t realised my intention of having a discussion had turned into a lecture. Please forgive me.’ Those last three words were delivered with more sarcasm than true regret. ‘I was merely making a suggestion that spending more time with Juliet now may help ease the two of you into a better relationship in the future.’
Monty let out a long breath and rubbed his hands over his eyes. ‘I know you mean well.’
‘I’m only trying to help you by showing you the mistakes I have made. For as much as we antagonise each other, Monty, you are my brother and I want you to be happy.’
A look passed between them. It was a look that said all the things Andrew had not.
‘I don’t think a walk in the woods will change anything, Andrew. You don’t know Juliet.’
‘And you suddenly do? Juliet is a lovely, sensible young woman.’
* * *
Juliet had no idea how long she had been lying in bed waiting for Monty, but if he didn’t arrive in the next few minutes, she was getting dressed, going down to the barn and stealing one of the Duke’s horses to ride back to London. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. And it didn’t matter that she had no way of knowing which road led north. She would figure it out or she’d spend Christmas walking along the beach in some seaside town that was far enough away from her thoughtless husband, who had left her alone on their wedding night.
If only she wasn’t so tired...
She blinked a few times and tried to see the time. The mantel clock was too far away to see in the dim light of the fire no matter how much she squinted. It had to be after midnight.
Their families had spent the evening after dinner in quiet pursuits in the drawing room. Monty’s mother had been nothing but kind towards her since she arrived yesterday. She seemed to sense how nervous Juliet was about tonight and suggested a game of whist to keep her occupied until it was time to retire for the night. Playing cards helped to keep her mind off of the idea of allowing Monty to kiss and touch her later that night. Just the thought of it made her pulse pound and she didn’t want to think too much if that sensation was from anticipation or terror.
During dinner he had sat beside her and they had barely said two words to one other. Yet it was impossible to ignore him because she could feel the warmth from his thigh, where it rested close beside hers under the table. That heat sent an unexpected tingly sensation up and down her leg. Silently, she chided herself for having any sort of pleasant physical reaction to his mere presence.
Juliet plumped her pillow and snuggled further under the warm blankets. Even with the fire burning there was a slight cool breeze that blew across her exposed face, neck and hands. Under the blankets she felt warm and secure, which was a surprise, considering it was his bed that she was lying in.
When their various family members began to leave the drawing room and turn in for the night, Monty had escorted her up to this room. It appeared to everyone that they’d be spending the rest of the night together. Except after he opened the door, he told her there was no reason for them to hurry things along and he would join her later. That was hours ago. He had once told her all he could think about was kissing her. Apparently, he didn’t feel that way any longer.
Should she go and try to find him? Where would she even look? What would she say?
The bed was so cosy that it was quickly becoming impossible to toss the covers aside and leave. Right now, she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep. The faint scent of cinnamon that seemed to follow him was on the soft white pillowcases. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the squishy cotton as she took a slow steadying breath. This really was a perfect bed for taking long winter naps.
The call of a good night’s sleep was too strong and she didn’t hear when Monty walked in the room ten minutes later. When he softly called her name from beside the bed, it was as if she were hearing him in her dream. And when the bed dipped with his weight as he slid beside her, the only response she gave was to instinctively roll closer to his warmth.
Chapter Five
When Juliet woke up the next morning, rays of sunshine streamed into the room from the two casement windows, brightening the deep red walls and bed hangings. There was an indent in the pillow beside her that let her know at some point during the night Monty had slept in their bed. She had no memory of him coming in to the room and no recollection of him settling in next to her.
She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Looking around the silent room, she saw that she was alone. The fire had been recently stoked and the room was warm, even though frost had formed overnight on the windows. A note addressed to her was propped against the oil lamp on her bedside table. Breaking the seal, she scanned the short missive from Monty. He informed her that he had not wanted to wake her from her deep sleep last night when he came to bed. The past sixteen days had been difficult for both of them and they needed a good night’s rest. He closed the note asking if she would join him in the entrance hall of the house at eleven that morning and advised her to dress warmly. Juliet’s curiosity had been piqued and she suspected he had purposely crafted the note to do that.
* * *
At eleven o’clock, she sat waiting for him on the wooden bench at the foot of the stone staircase of the entrance hall, wearing her scarlet-wool pelisse trimmed with white fur and her matching hat. Someone must have recently opened the front door because the faint scent of fresh air on a cold winter’s day filled the large space.
Monty’s approaching footsteps echoed in the hall from the back of the house. He cut a dashing figure with his open navy-blue Garrick coat billowing behind him as he came into view. Juliet’s gaze travelled from his polished black Hessians, up his buckskin breeches that showed off his muscular thighs, to the front of his brown tailcoat and landed on the bemused expression on his handsome face. She hoped that expression wasn’t an indication he’d caught her admi
ring his form.
‘I wasn’t sure if you would be here,’ he called out, tossing a linen drawstring bag over his shoulder as he walked.
‘I’m curious about what you have planned and why I needed to dress warmly. That is the only reason I am here.’
He placed his hat on his head and adjusted the brim. ‘You will see, all in good time.’ He glanced down at her matching fur-trimmed boots and gave an approving nod. ‘Do you have gloves?’
She picked up her pair of black gloves and dangled them from her hand. ‘Are we going on a sleigh ride?’
‘No, where we are going a sleigh is not fit to travel.’
He turned towards the door and she hurried after him.
‘Why do you have that bag with you? Where are we going?’
Pausing at the door, he turned to her. ‘We are going on an adventure.’ He leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘I remember how much you liked them.’
Memories of sneaking away at the Tinsleys’ to meet Monty in the walled herb garden came flooding back to her. Her heartbeat quickened as she recalled the excitement of possibly getting caught with him and of their kiss. All these years later, she could still recall vividly the feel of his lips and the way it awoke a desire in her that she had never experienced before. He had told her that nothing compared to kissing her. He said that he would always remember it.
He had been lying. He must have been since it was apparent he wasn’t eager to kiss or touch her now. Lying was what Monty did. She needed to remember that to protect her heart from being hurt by him again.
‘I do like adventures—however, I prefer to know what is planned, in advance,’ she stated, not wanting to show her excitement.
He buttoned up his coat and indicated with a nod of his head that she should do the same. ‘We are on a quest for mistletoe.’
‘Mistletoe? Why do we need mistletoe?’
As they stepped out in to the cold air, a brisk breeze hit her warm cheeks and she pulled up her soft fur collar. There was a dusting of snow on the ground and their boots crunched into the frozen covering as they walked.
