Peter took several steps toward her until he was by her side. “Perhaps if he loved you enough, he’d let you join him in his own hunting party—May I?” She didn’t resist when he gently took her bow from her hands and fitted an arrow to it. In quick succession, he hit the bullseye of each target. He turned to her with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
Juliana shook her head. “Alright, I will admit I am not as good as you yet, but I am better than average. I can probably out-shoot most of your hunting friends.” She plucked her bow back from Peter. “I have proved myself a capable shot.”
“You have,” Peter admitted, his teasing gone. “But I worry what your father would think of you joining our hunting party.”
“He has already given me his blessing.” Juliana pleaded with him as she lowered her head demurely.
Peter laughed, catching her cheek in a small pinch. “I suppose I cannot stand in your way, then.” He bowed, taking Juliana’s hand. “Miss Gibbon, would you do me the great honor of joining our hunting party tomorrow?” He pulled back with a smile.
She nearly squealed with excitement at being officially invited, but she pushed it down, fighting for decorum. She lifted her head, eyes peering up at Peter. “I would,” she said smartly, holding back her happiness at finally being included.
Chapter Three
Juliana proudly cantered toward Adler Court on her bay mare, her bow with plenty of arrows strapped to the saddle. She’d waited her entire life to be a part of the hunt the Seton’s put on semiannually. It was a grand affair, bringing half the neighborhood together just before the start of the London season.
When she arrived, most of the men were gathered together, the excitement ringing through the air as the dogs played and barked under their feet. They ran between the horses’ legs, nipping at each other and howling already. Most of the men she knew from the many gatherings hosted in the neighborhood. They looked different out of their superfine. The reds and greens of their jackets differentiated them from the servant boys who were walking the grounds before them, readying them for the anticipated hunt.
She led her mare amongst the men, heading straight for Peter once she spotted him talking animatedly to his father. She glanced around at the party in excitement when she met him. “I can feel the thrill of the hunt already!”
He tilted his head to her in acknowledgement. “Good day, Miss Gibbon. A pleasure to see you, as always.” His smile stretched, underlying his formal address to her.
The men around her eyed her in curiosity. She was only a handful of women in attendance. This hunt was notorious for its masculine presence which was exactly why she’d been so obsessed with it, though she’d never admit it to Peter.
Mr. Hampton called to her from atop his black stallion, his ruddy face peeled open with a grin. “Joining us today, Miss Gibbon?” He was the only man who seemed happy to see her, besides her hosts.
“I am,” she said proudly. “By the invitation of dear Lord Seton.”
“Upon my word!” Mr. Norman broke into her conversation. He was tall, proud and, newly married. Also, quite vocal about wanting to have his pleasures without the women intruding. “Since when have the fair sex joined men in sport?”
“Since they grew a mind of their own, I presume,” Juliana replied, just as hotly. She would not be disregarded because of her sex. “You shall all have to beware, as Lord Seton himself can attest to my capabilities in this so-called man’s sport.”
Peter grimaced and she gave him a traitorous look. “Shall we get started?” he asked.
Juliana forced down her annoyance. She shouldn’t have expected a heroic speech attesting of her unconventional skills. He was just as bad as the lot of them!
“Come now.” Peter’s father broke in. “There is plenty of sport to be had by all!” He gave Juliana a wink and she smiled dotingly on him. She should have made her appeal to him in the first place.
As the trumpets sounded, the men set off through the woods on the estate, following the dogs as they barked at their signal, and coming alive with the chase.
Before she could spurn her own horse to follow, Mr. Hampton engaged her in conversation. “The weather has been kind today, allowing for an unusually wizened hunt. I am sure the fox will be out in droves.”
Juliana couldn’t believe this man was talking of the weather. Of all the things to stop her, Mr. Hampton’s light conversation was not one she would have expected. She quickly lost patience at being left behind. “Where’s the blasted stag?” she muttered without thinking.
He eyed her rude behavior before kicking his heels into his mount and leaving her in the dust. She quickly followed, the thrill of the chase pulling through her like lightning, lighting her from within. This was better.
She arrived just in time to see the men raise their muskets. In unison they fired their shots, causing the air around them to crackle. The dogs dove at the majestic stags’ feet, almost taking it down. Before she even had the chance to draw her bow, shots exploded again into the air. The deer was quickly felled, and she watched in horror as it crumpled to its knees, then toppled over with blood dripping from its chest.
“This stag is five times the size of last years!” Mr. Norman’s excitement penetrated her horror.
The party moved ahead, leaving her behind once again. Her stomach fell as she turned over his statement in her mind. They killed defenseless animals every year. She’d pictured targets in her head, though she knew what the hunt entailed.
She thought she had wanted to feel the adrenaline pump through her veins as she gave chase, but sickness replaced her excitement at watching the poor creature fall to its death.
She startled, placing her hand to her chest as shots cracked into her silent reverie.
Staring at the lifeless animal, tears pricked her eyes. Shouts erupted ahead of her as chaotic banter disturbed the excitement around the men.
She turned to Peter’s concerned eyes. They held pity, and she instantly wished she was alone. This would be a new subject he would tease her at.
Two men dismounted their horses, approaching the stag to take it back to Alder Court to be divided amongst the party.
Shaking her head, Juliana turned her mount and raced for the lake, unable to witness the abuse any longer.
***
Peter cursed under his breath as he watched Juliana fly in the direction of the lake. He did not miss the way her countenance changed at seeing the stag fall. He should have refused her in coming today. She was still too young for such things and he’d vowed to protect her as he would a sister. He’d just failed at it miserably.
The commotion ahead brought his attention back to the party. Men quickly approached him, shouting for him to come.
His scenes pricked at the distress in Mr. Norman’s urgent words. “Lord Seton, come quickly, your father is injured!”
At hearing those words, his heart plummeted. He turned his horse and sped towards his father, pushing away his uneasy thoughts. Pulling the reigns tightly, he stopped just before the gathered group. In one fluid motion, he dismounted and fell to the ground near his father’s lifeless body. “What has happened?” His urgency grew tenfold as he noticed blood pooling under his father’s body, too much blood. He pulled his riding coat off and ripped his shirtsleeve clean off, tying the white cloth around his father’s wounded arm, but blood still seeped through the cloth.
“No one knows. It happened so quickly. One moment he was atop his horse shouting his commands at the dogs, and the next he was falling to the ground.”
“There is too much blood, is he shot anywhere else?” Peter fingered his father, searching for any other injury. He didn’t wait for a reply before shouting his next command. Fear ripped through him. “Fetch the doctor.” He shouted.
A servant beside him responded quickly, “Alister already went for him, master Peter.”
“I’m afraid I was the one who hit him.” Peter pulled his eyes to Mr. Hampton’s colorless face. Remorse was etched at th
e lines near his eyes.
“I was told everyone in the party was an excellent shot!” Peter’s frustration mounted.
“Twas too much commotion sir.” Mr. Hampton replied, guilt seeping into each of his words.
Peter tried to calm his temper, no one was to blame, but the panic didn’t leave his heart. His father had not responded to Peter’s errant hands shaking him awake. His chest did not fall... Peter closed his eyes tightly as he willed this nightmare away.
Silence settled on the group as they waited for the doctor to confirm their suspicions. His father was dead already, and no one on this earth could bring him back.
Peter’s spirits dropped more fully as the doctor pronounced his father deceased upon his arrival. A thousand thoughts raced through Peter’s mind as the noise around him echoed in his brain.
A voice broke through his fog as he was brought back to reality. “Might want the doctor to look you over as well, you’ve paled considerably.” Mr. Norman waited anxiously by his side.
That snapped him out of it. “Return without me.” He yelled as he jumped on his mount and sped away. He needed to think. He needed to breathe.
Reaching the edge of the lake, he dismounted his horse and walked with great agitation to the water. He stared at its calm, peaceful appearance before breaking. He picked up a stone and violently chucked it into the lake, watching the water ripple as it plunged underneath.
“Lord—Peter?” Juliana’s voice cut through his torment.
He startled as he noticed her eyes held a slight sheen; she’d been crying. Did she know already the news? “Juliana, what are you doing out here?” His voice cracked and he watched her sadness turn to concern.
“I didn’t enjoy the hunt as I thought I would.” Her blue eyes locked on his as her concern deepened. “That is of no concern, what is the matter?” Juliana inched closer to him, her eyes soft and worn.
Peter didn’t want to say the words out loud, as if saying it to her would finalize this nightmare. He looked out at the lake which had resumed its peaceful reverie. “My father—” he broke, unable to finish his sentence. He shook his head, crossing his arms and struggling to control his emotion.
Juliana set a light hand on his arm. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” She whispered.
“He’s dead,” Peter blurted.
Juliana froze, her hand slipping away from his arm. Despite the heat of the day, Peter felt cold.
He turned to her, taking in her distressed expression. This news sliced through her; his father was like her father too.
“What—” she stopped, clearing the frog in her throat and squeezing her eyes tightly closed. She was trying to keep it together for him. He reached for her before calling his hand back. “What happened?” she finally asked, her voice more steady now, but tears sneaking out despite her still closed eyes.
“He was shot accidently,” he choked out, bile rising in his throat.
A cry escaped her lips as her eyes shot open. He pulled her to him, letting her tears dampen his shirt. He twisted his fingers through her loose hair, holding her to him, gaining strength, and comforting her at the same time.
Once her tears had dried, a silence settled between them. “I’m sorry,” Juliana whispered. “Would you like to be left alone?” She tilted her head slightly, matching his eyes. He moved his fingers down, gently catching the back of her neck. She quickly placed her hand over his, sliding it to her lips. She kissed it quickly before dropping his hand, then slowly stepped out of his embrace.
He focused on Juliana’s maturing features, ignoring her disheveled hair, her bonnet thoughtlessly tossed aside. Sometimes he still viewed her as a little girl, but in this moment, in the wake of his father’s death, he realized that she had well and truly grown into a fine young woman.
He looked away. “I just need to absorb the information.”
“If there is even the smallest comfort I can offer you–” Juliana started.
“I can imagine very little comfort at this moment.” He tightened his fists. “Forgive me. Perhaps it is best I am left alone for now.”
She watched him silently for a few moments, then stepped away from his side. “We’ll be awaiting your return at Alder Court.”
He closed his eyes and listened as Juliana mounted her mare and rode away, leaving him alone in his grief.
Chapter Four
The clouds sat heavy the day they buried the late Lord Seton. Juliana stood amongst friends and acquaintances as the parish priest read words she did not wish to hear. They encircled Lord Seton’s gravesite; the hole not yet filled. She’d formed a close attachment to Peter’s father, though a solitary man who liked to keep to himself—the complete opposite of his wife, she’d woven her way into his heart. Juliana took her eyes to Lady Seton, who sobbed quietly into her handkerchief as she clutched Peter like a lifeline, her face twisted in a mournful grimace.
Sorrow tugged at Juliana’s heart as she glanced at the pair. Peter stood resolute, emotionless, like a statue. He was now the Earl. At just twenty and three, he seemed too young for the momentous task of running the estate.
Juliana’s father stood soberly next to her. He had been good friends with Lord Seton and Juliana feared he would take his passing hard.
As the service ended, all but Peter and their now surviving parents moved away from the gravesite. She starred at Peter as his head hung, his mother grasping his arm for support. As silent sobs heaved Peter’s shoulders, Juliana placed her foot forward to comfort him again, but was stopped by a crack of sorrow beside her. She quickly moved to her father, propping him up. She needed to be his stalwart buoy now, Peter had his mother for comfort. With a jerk of her heart, she led her father to their coach, giving Peter one last chance to be alone as a family.
Juliana’s aunt and uncle had been informed that she would not be going to London just yet. She had wanted to stay behind for the funeral, not only to support her father’s grief, but Peter’s. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was going through. And not being here with him right now was out of the question.
Many friends gathered at Alder Court to nibble on refreshments and talk in low tones about the great loss in the family. It seemed to Juliana a circus, when all she wanted was to be alone with the family so they could grieve together.
A silence hung in the air as Peter walked into the great room with his mother. She whispered into his ear and he quickly nodded to her. Then she left his side, disappearing from the room.
Juliana quietly approached Peter, who answered condolences with brief responses. She felt out of place and useless as she watched Peter taking over in his father’s stead.
When he saw her beside him, his emotionless eyes lit with relief. “Juliana—thank you for coming.” She bit on her bottom lip, trying to stifle her grief at his quiet whisper to her.
“I couldn’t leave you to handle this trauma alone.” She gulped, wetting her dry mouth.
Peter looked down at the glass of wine in his hands. “I know you were looking forward to the start of the season. I am sorry I’m making you late to London.”
“Do not apologize.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “I would rather be with you in your time of need.” She offered him a smile, one that he returned, though only slightly.
“Truly, how are you doing?” she whispered, tilting her head close to his.
“I haven’t slept,” he admitted. “I want nothing more than to mount Beast and ride until I reach the sea, then scream my misfortunes at it.”
Juliana laughed softly. “I’m afraid you would have a long ride, and the sea would not understand you.”
“No.” He sighed. “But I’d have it off my chest.” He paused, swallowing. “I didn’t even get the chance to say a proper goodbye.”
Juliana squeezed his arm before a couple she didn’t recognize came to Peter, offering their condolences. She made to leave, but Peter’s arm caught her around the waist. “Stay a moment,” he murmured in her ear. “Your presence gives me the strength
I need.”
Juliana was glad to be of service. She stood, rooted to his side while he faced the fellow mourners. Peter did not let her go and she stood straighter as she caught reproachful glances from a few nosey onlookers. She would not feel ashamed to be so near Peter. He had helped her through many less trying scrapes and incidences. She would not be made to feel as if she were doing something wrong, especially now when Peter needed her.
It quickly became clear that Peter would not be coming to London for this year’s season as she listened to Peter explain his new plans. Disappointment curled in her breast, but she banished it away. Her purpose in going to London was to become acquainted with other society. Her closeness with Peter could very well chase away potential suitors.
As the afternoon deepened, Juliana moved from Peter’s side. She slipped out of the great hall and moved quietly to the drawing room. Lady Seton sat in a corner; the fire had dimmed at no one bothering to stir it back to life. Juliana’s heart constricted at seeing the lively woman being brought so low. Juliana kneeled at Lady Seton’s side, taking the limp hand in hers. Juliana watched as Lady Seton’s white face and hollow eyes came to life at the touch.
“Juliana dear, are you still here? Your father, is he well.” The woman sat up, shaking away her sorrow.
“Do not worry. My father is well. I just wanted to say my goodbye’s before I leave. I am not sure if I shall have time to see you before I leave for London.” Juliana smiled a small smile. “And I wanted to check in on you to make sure you are well.”
A smile touched the new dowager’s lips, as she brought her hand to Juliana’s face. Lady Seton cupped Juliana’s cheek, wiping at another stray tear. Juliana wondered at how she had any left as she sat up straight and wiped at her face with the palm of her hand.
“You have always had a tender heart. Whoever captures it had better keep it safe.”
“I am sure I will not have a problem with Peter to help. He shall scare away any tyrant who might come my way.” Juliana remembered too late; she would not have Peter’s assistance in London after all. Lady Seton must have noticed the mistake because her smile broadened.
A Friendly Alliance (Heirs of Berkshire, #1) Page 2
