Emily Hendrickson (24 page)

“And you fell in love with him, just like that?” Lord Winterton queried, giving his daughter a piercing look. “Not that I have anything against such an alliance. I’d be a fool to object,” he concluded almost bitterly.

“I find Alexander very easy to love, Papa. He enjoys music as I do, reads poetry, indulges me in my gardening, and in general is a very good sort of husband,” Juliet replied in all truthfulness, for Alexander would have made a splendid husband—had they been married.

“I see. Since you say that Marius had nothing to do with the arrangements and you eloped, I should like to know what manner of settlements have been drawn up,” This was the father of the bride speaking, all business and suspicions in full arousal.

The dowager rose majestically from the sofa to join the trio. “I have arranged a settlement of fifty thousand pounds for their firstborn child.”

Lord Winterton turned slightly to glance at his wife, then looked at the dowager. “Puts them rather on the spot, does it not?”

“Now, dear,” the new Lady Winterton said quietly when she hurried from her chair to join the four confronting one another.

“I want you to know that Juliet has a sizable dowry,” Lord Winterton said to Alexander, smiling, but having a frosty glint in his eyes.

“You need have no fears regarding the amount of her jointure—or her pin money,” replied Alexander in a tone laced with steel.

Juliet, thinking the entire conversation utterly ridiculous in view of the lack of a wedding in the first place, suggested, “You both must be tired after traveling so far. Why do you not settle in your rooms, then return at your leisure in time for dinner. We dine at London hours here, about five-thirty. We can talk more then. I am anxious to learn all about your trip to Russia, how you met my new mama, and how you found me!”

The tension in the air abated considerably with this sensible suggestion. The newcomers followed Mrs. Bassett up the stairs. That good lady looked as though nothing and no one would ever again faze her as she showed the new guests to their rooms. Titles everywhere, far from the quiet job she’d been offered when hired.

“That was unexpected,” the dowager said, returning to her preferred place on the bergère chair. “How lovely for you to not only be reunited with your father but to have a new mama as well.”

“Indeed, ma’am. Lady Winterton appears to be a very pretty lady with kindly manners. I am sorry that it took so long for me to learn of her. It is apparent that Papa does not like to write letters.”

Her lovely face composed, Juliet turned to Alexander and said, “I believe I shall change for dinner now. Do you join me?”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Alexander replied, “But of course. We shall see you later, Grandmother.”

“Indeed so, Alexander. I quite look forward to the evening.” The dowager looked off to the scene beyond the windows, a speculative expression on her face.

“Ominous words, indeed,” Juliet whispered to Alexander once she thought they were out of the dear dragon’s hearing and going up the stairs to her room.

He hastily nudged her into the bedroom, then crossed to stand by the window, where he leaned against the frame to look back at her. “I fancy you are thrilled to see your father again, to know that Marius is wrong and that your beloved father still lives—but what a damnable coil it presents.”

“How true,” Juliet replied, not taking offense at his language. The situation was indeed terrible. “Do you think we can continue to fool him?”

“What do I tell him when he asks to see our marriage lines? I lost them?”

Juliet frowned, walking over to the Windsor armchair to lean on the back. “Tell him you placed it in the vault at the Abbey.”

“What if some kindly soul remarks about our supposed separation and reunion? Mrs. Ogleby is just the sort to do that little thing. Is that what I did before I came here? Have settlements drawn up, put the marriage certificate in the vault, arrange for your jointure and pin money? Perhaps I oversaw the master suite decorated just for you?”

Juliet watched as he turned to look out into the waning light. The set of his handsome face was harsh, as well it might be.

“Oh, Alexander, I am so dreadfully sorry,” she cried softly. “If only Marius had not threatened to marry me off to Lord Taunton, we would not be in this pickle.”

The lines on Alexander’s face softened, and he moved to stand at her side, wrapping one arm about her shoulders. “You could not have imagined all that has transpired. How many people have a grandmother like mine, for instance? Or how many men have a Camilla Shelford chasing them? Your father is nothing more than the icing on the cake.”

“If we think we have given a fine performance before, we will have to excel for Papa. He seems to be suspicious,” Juliet said into the comfort offered by Alexander’s shoulder.

“Remember, when he left England you were still in the schoolroom, a little girl,” Alexander said, wrapping his other arm around her. “I imagine it is quite a jolt for a man to return expecting to find things as he left them, only to discover his daughter gone, he knows not where. Then, when he does track her down, he finds she has run off with some peer to Gretna and is now a married woman.”

“But we didn’t,” Juliet reminded him quietly
.

“Aye, there’s the rub.”

“I am twenty-one now, old enough not to require permission to marry, regardless,” Juliet pointed out.

“But your birthday came after we wed, my pet,” Alexander reminded her.

“Which we did not,” she countered stubbornly and most needlessly. There was no reply to this obvious statement.

“I think you need a few new gowns. What with all the company, you must be tired of the same things,” Alexander said, leaving her side to walk to the connecting door
.

“The mantua-maker promised to bring the gowns I ordered as soon as she finished them. They ought to arrive any day. I imagine you could use a few things as well. You hardly planned for the sort of entertaining we have done.”

“Certainly not a father-in-law and his new wife,” Alexander said dryly, then entered his room and snapped the door shut behind him.

Juliet stared at the door a few moments, quite nonplused, then crossed to open the wardrobe to see what gown might do for dinner with her father, his new wife, and the dowager viscountess. The prospect was daunting, to say the least.

“The leaf green satin be the best one for this evening, ma’am,” Pansy said as she entered the room to see Juliet holding out the moire.

“I suppose you are right. One of the new muslins will do well for tomorrow. Tonight had best be something nicer.”

She changed, then wondered if Alexander would return—or would he merely go straight downstairs to the drawing room without her? She dismissed Pansy and sat down to wait.

He tapped on her door, then entered as she bid.

“You must think me a boor,” he began. “I should never have said that about entertaining your father and his new wife.”

“It is true, however.”

“I wish the emeralds were here,” he said obliquely. “Your father will think I am a poor sort of husband, not giving you proper jewels when he would know I could afford them.”

“Alexander, they are in the vault in London, remember? And were we truly on a honeymoon, would I be needing something so grand as an emerald necklace?”

“And earrings, a brooch, tiara, and ring to match,” he added morosely.

“Goodness! I suppose your grandmother will make some remark about them in that event,” Juliet added wryly.

“Let us go down and face them the best we can then. You look lovely in the pearls, and since your father gave them to you, perhaps he will think it in honor of his return?” Alexander drew her along to the door, then paused. “Best have a dash of stars in the eyes.”

She puzzled at this only a moment, for he answered her unspoken query by bestowing one of his heart-stopping kisses on her with all the expertise she supposed a rake might acquire.

“There now,” he said with satisfaction, “I believe that did both of us good.”

Juliet supposed she blushed to her toes and must look as flustered as possible under Alexander’s warm gaze.

“You are very practiced at that, my lord,” she said lightly in a very soft voice.

“Well, as to that,” Alexander replied, looking a trifle uncomfortable and running a finger beneath the edge of his impeccably arranged cravat, “I suppose I am.”

“I have heard that rakes make the best of husbands. I shall have to find one for myself, perhaps,” she said, again in a light manner as they left her room to go down to the drawing room and their guests.

What Alexander might have said to that provoking remark was not to be known, for Julian Winterton and his new wife left their rooms at that moment to join Juliet and Alexander as they went down.

“What did you do while in Russia, Papa?” Juliet asked, wanting to know why her father had remained away for so long as well as thinking if he kept his mind on his own doings, he couldn’t put his nose into hers.

Smelling faintly of sandalwood and dressed in excellent style, Lord Winterton escorted his wife into the drawing room before attempting to answer his daughter’s most natural question.

“You know I went at the behest of the government,” he began after greeting the Dowager Lady Hawkswood. “I was to tour Russia, making observations as to the condition of the country after Napoleon’s disastrous invasion. I luckily found Helena while I was in St. Petersburg. A friend introduced her, and I was thrilled to discover she is a talented artist, most unusual for a Russian woman. We made a very excellent pair and rapidly found ourselves united in more than interests. Not only do I care deeply for her, but I had the advantage of an artist to make drawings of what we saw as we traveled.” He exchanged a fond look with his wife, one that completely shut out Juliet.

“I wish I might see them,” Juliet said, feeling terribly cut off from her father and his life.

“And so you shall, my dear,” Helena inserted in her pleasant voice. “We were so pleased with the outcome—my illustrations and Julian’s observations of the scenes we encountered—that a book will be printed with the most interesting of them. You will have one of the first copies.”

Randall entered, acting again in the role of butler, to announce that dinner was served.

Juliet begged her father to tell them more of his travels, and so he did throughout the meal.

During a pause Helena darted a glance at Alexander and commented, “In Russia you would likely be called Sacha.”

“They call men with his name that in England as well,” the dowager added with a faint twist of her mouth, “I never liked it and made certain it was not allowed.”

“How fortunate I did not mind,” Alexander said with a narrow-eyed look at his grandmother.

Juliet smoothed over the exchange with a comment on the weather, and the dowager subsided. Alexander was more quiet than usual, and the conversation returned to Russia and the conditions Lord Winterton and Helena had found there. It sounded utterly dreadful.

“The cruelty of the French during their occupation was incredible. Yet the sight of the French prisoners, many of whom had lost fingers and toes, was horrible to see. Neither side won, if you see what I mean.”

Juliet turned the conversation in another direction and wondered which side would emerge victorious when her father and Alexander met for a discussion on the marriage. She would not wager on either man to win.

Chapter 14

At the rap on the connecting door Juliet turned from the window to invite Alexander to enter. Her expectation of doom hung over her tike a storm cloud waiting to break.

“Well, how do you feel this morning, meeting your father after several years?” he asked, sauntering across the room to join her. As always, he was impeccably dressed—this morning in nankeen breeches, a pale buff waistcoat, and a dark green coat, the tails of which were modest in length. With his hair arranged
a la Titus
he looked so dashing he made Juliet felt quite provincial; her hair simply styled and wearing a rather ordinary gown of green-and-white-striped muslin—never mind it was new.

“And with a new wife,” she said, dragging her thoughts away from Alexander and how he looked. “He is much as he ever was. I believe I rather like Helena. She invited us to visit them. How odd—to be invited to visit my own home.”

“I expect she thinks your home is with me,” Alexander suggested. “It will be—even if we decide not to live together.”

“What do you mean?” Juliet asked with great caution.

“You must know there is no possible way we can part now,” Alexander said gently.

“I do not.” Juliet’s eyes flashed with amber fire. “I promised myself I’d not trap you into a marriage because of my foolish actions, and I won’t,” she replied with a stubborn set to her jaw.

“I see you wrote to your former governess,” Alexander probed, evading the issue for the moment. “I franked the letter for you.”

“Thank you. With Father home again, I decided it would be sensible to let her know what has happened. I wrote her a brief letter after I came here, cautioning her not to reveal my whereabouts to Marius. I expressed a hope that after she completed her stay with her family she might wish to join me here, but I have heard nothing from her. She may have been so annoyed with me that she has sought a post elsewhere.”

They both stared out at the gardens below for a few moments, then Juliet said in a hushed voice, “Alexander, whatever are we to do? I think Papa is suspicious.”

“Why would you think that?” Alexander inquired. “I thought we gave a rather convincing performance last evening.”

“That is just it—it was a performance. He is a very clever man, most astute.”

“And that is not all of the problem, is it?” Alexander queried kindly, leaning back against the window surround, arms crossed before him while he studied his most unexpected wife.

Juliet sighed deeply, strolling away from the window and Alexander. “How perceptive you are. Of course it is not the whole of my problem.” She spun about to face him, her hands clasped before her. “Alexander, I have
never
lied to my father before in my life. It bothers me greatly to do so now. I fear he can see guilt written on my face as clearly as if I put the word there.”