Emily Hendrickson (23 page)

For the dinner Juliet dressed with extra care, donning the ivory moire, her pearls, the pretty brooch Alexander had given her as well as taking her birthday fan to use as a defense against her ladyship’s sharp eyes.

Conversation at the dinner table was charming, Juliet decided. All the guests seemed bent on outdoing the others in agreeable conduct. The meal progressed with no mishaps. They were being served dessert—a light castle pudding, an excellent fruit crumble, and sponge cake topped with whipped cream flavored with orange—when the dowager cleared her throat, no small sound with her voice.

“I wish to make a happy little announcement.”

Everyone at the table paused, spoons or forks in hand, to stare at the dowager. Sensing it might be momentous, all utensils were lowered to respective plates. Silence reigned.

“I am very pleased with Alexander’s marriage. He has chosen remarkably well, all things considered. I have therefore communicated to my solicitor my desire to give my grandson fifty thousand pounds upon the birth of their first child.”

Not a sound was heard, not even a gasp.

Chapter 13

Juliet led the women to the drawing room, leaving the men to their customary port. Like the other women present, Juliet was in a state of shock. The possible ramifications of the offer, or bribe if looked at from another angle, whirled through her mind. She welcomed Mrs. Bassett and the tea tray, pouring Bohea tea into delicate Wedgwood cups with a not quite steady hand.

Mrs. Ogleby seemed to recover first and asked Juliet to play for them. “Something cheerful,” she suggested, gesturing to the harp, her cup in hand.

Deciding conversation was utterly impossible at the moment, Juliet nodded agreement, sat by the harp, and commenced a gay little tune while her mind was elsewhere.

She glanced at the dowager viscountess, seated so regally in a bergère chair across the room. How pleased with herself she looked—smug, even—wearing a rich black velvet gown trimmed in gold cord that added to her regal look. Her black velvet turban was decorated with a large gold brooch set with a ruby such as to stir envy in Miss Shelford had she seen it.

How would Alexander feel about his grandmother’s outrageous proposition? Obviously, the woman did not guess the marriage was nonexistent. Juliet and Alexander had fooled everyone—everyone but themselves. What would he wish to do? She felt confused and not a little worried.

The other women were recovering from the startling announcement and had begun to converse in soft undertones. Juliet concluded her little bit of music and offered more tea. She poured the dowager a second cup of tea, prepared it the way she preferred, while wondering how that woman would have felt had such a enticement been offered to her when newly married. There were times, Juliet suspected, when such a bribe could not have been fulfilled. What resentments might have occurred then!

“Lucy, favor us with a song,” Mrs. Ogleby insisted. “You have such a pretty voice.”

Juliet played a soft accompaniment while Lucy sang a country air in a sweet, clear voice.

During her simple song, the men came into the room to join the ladies, apparently having little to joke and talk about over the table. Most likely the sum of money offered had staggered them as much as it had the women. There would be a goodly number of speculative conversations this evening while preparing for bed. Juliet assumed most couples discussed the day’s events such as she and Alexander did before sleeping—even if she and Alexander went to separate beds.

How embarrassing it would be were she truly a wife, to have everyone wondering were she in the family way as yet. Could the dowager not have made the offer in a more private manner? It would have been far more seemly, to Juliet’s way of thinking.

Lord Taunton requested Lucy to sing again; they had missed part of the first number.

Juliet gladly played for her, thinking it preferable to attempting an intelligent conversation. Fortunately for all concerned, once Lucy had finished her song. Lord Taunton, with a look at Mr. Tackley, said he also had an announcement to make.

“Miss Tackley has done me the honor of accepting my suit. We shall be married shortly—I do not believe in long engagements,” he said with a laugh.

The Dowager Viscountess Hawkswood did not appear pleased at the announcement that took some of the sensation from hers. However, the remainder of the guests were quite delighted, and much was made of the young couple.

To Alexander, Taunton said, “First, I shall go to my solicitor and have proper settlement papers drawn up, and see to preparing the country house as well. Parson Richards has agreed to marry us as soon as may be.” He gave Lucy a fond look that surprised no one who had seen the couple at the fete.

Juliet suspected that Taunton thought to lodge with them prior to the wedding, and was surprised when Alexander offered Taunton’s late uncle’s home as a temporary residence until the wedding.

It was a chattering, happy group of people who departed from the manor that evening. The dowager, Juliet, and Alexander saw them on their way while Marius and Harry said something about leaving on the morrow along with Taunton.

Juliet did not urge them to remain, and Alexander was silent as well.

Once the guests had gone, those remaining went to their respective rooms, save for Alexander. As usual, he followed Juliet into hers, closing the door behind him with a feeling close to resignation.

“It is not quite what you might think,” Alexander said. The dowager’s announcement that had so stunned the little group still had Juliet in a mild state of shock.

“But such an enormous sum of money and to be given in
such
a manner,” Juliet objected. She stood in the center of her room, wide-eyed and troubled.

Alexander firmly sat her on the comfortable chair, then drew up a Windsor armchair to face her. “My grandmother achieved an unusual degree of independence by her mother’s will. She holds land in her own right and has refused to let it to be placed in trusts. When my father begged her to allow part of the trusts of
his
marriage to be placed on land she held in her own right, she replied that she had attained this independence and was determined to keep it. She forbid him to ever mention it again. I suspect that in part her decision was because of a strong dislike for my mother.”

“But still—such a vast sum, a fortune!”

“That large sum of money is actually her income for two years,” Alexander explained almost apologetically. “I know she has never been extravagant and can easily arrange for that sum to be paid.”

“Oh,” Juliet said in a small voice. While far from having to count her pounds, Juliet could not imagine such wealth. “Well,” she concluded with a sigh, “it is a moot point, for we shan’t have a child. She will wait in vain.” She studied her hands, neatly folded in her lap, wishing she had settled in a simple cottage not belonging to anyone instead of this lovely manor house complete with a husband who was not a husband, nor did he wish ever to be her husband.

“In a sense we are married, you know.” His words brought her head up to stare at him in astounded silence. “You wear my rings, you have taken my name, and everyone in this area views us as a wedded couple. Just because we have not consummated this sort of common-law union does not make it less effective. In Scotland we’d be legally wed if we simply stated we are man and wife. In Wales and Yorkshire they jump over the broom, or besom as it is known there, in a perfectly acceptable marriage ceremony. Shall we jump over a broom, Juliet?” He smiled at her as though joking, but his voice was quite serious.

Juliet sprang from the chair, staring at Alexander with confusion. “No,”—she shook her head in denial—”it cannot be. Surely you do not desire such a thing. When you came here, you said you had no wish to be married—to anyone. I felt the same. We must not allow pressures such as your grandmother has offered to change our original plans.”

“The situation has altered during the time we have been here, Juliet. Surely you must see that.” He had risen as well and with a worried gaze watched her pace about the room.

“I’ll not agree to such an arrangement. I would never trap you into a marriage you have no liking for; it would be of all things detestable. I promised you that when we were free of the dangers of unwanted marriages, we could both go our own ways. I refuse to marry you, Alexander. I would not wed
...
” Juliet ceased her words, not wanting to admit to Alexander that she would gladly marry him if he loved her.

“Juliet—” Alexander began only to be interrupted by her.

“No, my mind is quite made up. Marius is convinced I am married. Camilla Shelford has gone, also persuaded that you are no longer free to wed her. Once the rest of our guests have left, we shall part. You may go your way; if anyone asks what became of me, say I disappeared—died—whatever you please.”

“And you?” he asked, looking appalled.

“I intend to find a simple cottage somewhere as far away from London as possible. I shall change my name, pretend to be a widow perhaps, and see if Miss Pritchard will join me in my quiet life.”

“Surely that cannot be what your father would wish for his only daughter.”

“My father has been singularly absent for many years without so much as a letter. I find it difficult to believe that he would care one jot what happens to me.”

Alexander took note of the stubborn tilt of Juliet’s chin, the suspicious brightness in her eyes, and guessed she was fighting tears. The absence of her father hurt her more than Alexander had realized. He took a step toward her, then stopped. Perhaps now was not the moment to offer consolation.

“Very well, I shall leave it be, but only for now. You must come to see reason.” Alexander crossed to the connecting door, opened it, then paused to say, “Good night, Juliet.”

“Sleep well, Alexander,” Juliet replied dryly, adopting the tone familiar to the dowager viscountess.

* * * *

Marius and Lord Taunton, along with Harry Riggs, left directly after an early breakfast the following morning. Neither Alexander nor Juliet persuaded them to remain, simply smiling and wishing them Godspeed.

The dowager was another matter entirely. She appeared ready to remain until the birth of the new heir if necessary.

Juliet watched her strolling in the garden, issuing an occasional order to Mr. Lumpkin, who totally ignored it, much to her ire. Turning to Alexander, Juliet said, “I believe she intends to stay forever. What are we going to do?”

The problem was resolved, but hardly in the way they expected.

Three days later, Juliet was in the garden, enjoying the afternoon breeze, when she heard a carriage entering the drive. Curious, for it did not sound like a light vehicle, she walked around the corner of the house to see a dusty traveling coach. The crest on the side panel was coated with mud, but she gathered it had to be someone important.

Turning, she fled to the rear of the house, then hurried into the library to find Alexander. “We have company again,” she announced a trifle out of breath.

He rose from his desk, joining her near the door where she stood wringing her hands.

“What now?” he murmured in a resigned voice. “Can you think of anyone else who might seek us out in this remote village?”

“Not a soul. All who might have had an interest but your grandmother have left.”

Alexander placed a protective arm about Juliet while they took a position in the entryway. They stood quietly as Mrs. Bassett opened the large front door to reveal a tall, white-haired gentleman with a slim, middle-aged woman on his arm.

“Papa?” Juliet asked softly. “Can it be you?”

“So, I am still able to track my quarry even after all these years,” the gentleman said in a genial way, crossing to envelop Juliet in a hug.

“And who are you, sir, if I may inquire?” Lord Winterton looked at Alexander with a piercing gaze that pinned him to the spot.

“Alexander Barr, Viscount Hawkswood at your service— your daughter’s husband.”

“You see, dear, it is all right; she is married to this handsome gentleman and quite settled. You worried for naught.” The woman who had entered with his lordship joined the trio, then added, “I am Helena, your new stepmother, Juliet. I married your father while he was in Russia.”

Juliet could not have spoken had her life depended upon it. She studied the attractive older woman, whose silvery blond hair was a pretty foil for blue eyes and a clear skin. She looked to be agreeable, but then, looks could be so deceiving.

“Come in, come in,” Alexander said with feigned heartiness. To Mrs. Bassett he issued instructions regarding rooms, figuring Juliet would be in no condition to think in that direction.

They entered the drawing room, Alexander assisting Lady Winterton with her shawls and making certain she was comfortable.

Juliet stood by the bergère chair, her hand resting on the back while she studied her father. “Forgive me, Papa, but I have not seen you for so long, I scarcely recognized you. Your hair has turned white, although you are much the same otherwise,” she admitted.

“And you have grown up to look just like your mother. I’d have known you anywhere,” he replied, drawing her from her place by the chair to the window where he could see her better. “To think you are married.”

“Yes, well, indeed we are,” she said when she observed the dowager had entered the room and stood waiting to be introduced.

Alexander made the introductions smoothly.

“Did Marius arrange this marriage for you?” her father inquired after exchanging pleasantries with the dowager, not relinquishing the topic he wanted to explore.

“No,” Juliet answered with a darted look of pleading to Alexander.

He joined her at once and attempted to ease her father’s fears. “Juliet was visiting Miss Pritchard’s family up north.” Alexander bent his head to look down at Juliet with a warm smile. “We met, fell in love, and I persuaded her to fly to Gretna with me.” If Alexander fell like a fool making such a dimwit-ted explanation, it didn’t show on his face.