The Rake's Redemption(11)

Lately though, his grandfather had convinced Dominic that it was his  duty to carry on the line. He had allowed himself to be convinced, for,  tainted though he may be, his grandfather's blood also ran in his veins  and that was worth preserving. He had supposed that someday he would  find someone he could tolerate and who would be satisfied with only a  crown of strawberry leaves, for he believed he had nothing else to give  and was no longer fit for any woman who expected more. Juliana had  destroyed that belief for a moment. But, of course, she would, she was  Will's Ju. She could bring solace even amidst the horrors of war. To  have at last come face-to-face with his elusive memory and know he must  in no way reach out to her, was the greatest irony of his ill-fated  life.

"Dominic, what the devil is ailing you? Do you agree or not?"

With an unpleasant twist to his firm mouth he finally glanced at his  best friend. "Concerning my taste in women? How astute you have become,  Freddie. My congratulations."

Freddie shrugged, completely ignoring his sarcasm. "I like widows  myself, they know what to say to a man. Not like those simpering misses  straight out of the schoolroom, like that Charlotte Grenville."

"That Charlotte Grenville, I very much fear, is the distant relative my  grandmother has been hinting would make me an unexceptional  marchioness."

"Thinking of falling into parson's mousetrap are you, Dom?" asked Freddie with a worried glance.

For a fleeting instant a picture of Juliana rose in his mind.

"No!"

"Wouldn't want to go against your grandmother, the duchess, if it was  me. Forceful woman your grandmother. And your grandfather!" Freddie  shook his head, shifting restlessly upon the curricle seat. "He's a  match for anyone! Even heard Prinny say he could make him feel like a  schoolboy again."

"Ah, but I have advantages you and the Prince don't possess, Freddie,"  Dominic drawled. "Their graces and I are very much alike."



The shutters on Mrs. Forbes's wide kitchen windows were flung back and  sunshine left large warm patches upon the stone floor. Sophia placed the  last jar of elixir in the willow basket Robbie had provided her with  this morning. She turned to Mrs. Forbes, who was sitting before the  crackling fire drinking some hot potion from a cup.

"Thank you so much," Sophia said, her eyes drifting about the kitchen,  touching on exotically shaped roots and herbs hung tidily from the  ceiling beams, remembering the laughter they had all shared brewing  gypsy potions. "We have enjoyed ourselves so here. I shall not forget  our visit."

"I know you will never forget this place, Sophia. It was the beginning  of all your tomorrows," said Mrs. Forbes, granddaughter of a Romany  princess.

Surprise took Sophia to the fireplace to stand before Mrs. Forbes.  Clearly seen in the merciless sunlight, her strong proud features were  alert and so were her shrewd dark eyes, in spite of the lines deeply  etched into her face revealing great age.

Sophia met her gaze calmly and smiled. "Are you trying to tell me  something? I noticed you did not fully answer Freddie's question  concerning fortune-telling. You simply said your mother did not have the  eye  …  I would almost believe you do possess it."

Mrs. Forbes' wrinkles deepened. "Ha! You are a practical woman. You do  not believe in the eye, so I will only tell you your real reason for  going to London will prosper richer than your brightest dreams. The  thread was spun long ago and now you pick it up once again."

Sophia no longer smiled as a chill played across her skin. There was  such a ring of sureness in Mrs. Forbes's voice that Sophia almost  believed the future was hers to see. "I do not understand," she  murmured.

"Of course you do not!" retorted Mrs. Forbes. "You are not meant to.  Hurry along now, the others are waiting for you. Your niece will be  along shortly."                       
       
           



       

Juliana waited until the coachman was attempting to help Lady Grenville  into the carriage, with the aid of Charlotte and Aunt Sophia, before she  made her way to Mrs. Forbes's kitchen. She found her in the walled  garden pruning the rose bush from which Dominic had plucked her bloom.

Mrs. Forbes looked up when Juliana approached. "I've been waiting for you, young miss. Knew you would come to say farewell."

Leaning over, Juliana brushed the weathered brown cheek with her lips.  "You have been so kind to us. I shall never forget this place. Or you."

Mrs. Forbes's face changed and a ghost of a smile touched her mouth. "Come, Juliana, give me your hand," she commanded.

Uncertain, Juliana hesitated before slowly holding out her right hand.  It lay on Mrs. Forbes's thin palm, pink and white and young against the  dark aged skin.

A pain in her chest suddenly made Juliana aware that she was holding her  breath, and she let it out carefully before Mrs. Forbes lifted her  eyes. Juliana was captured in the older woman's dark gaze and stood  absolutely still.

"There are two things you want, Juliana. One you know well. The other  you are just discovering. One you shall never have, nor is its loss  worth your sorrow. The other shall be yours, although the road twists  and turns, bringing pain and tears. Go with your feelings  …  here … " She  placed her left palm over Juliana's heart. "Not with the rules you know  well. And all will be as it should be."

A large tear ran down Juliana's cheek. At the same moment, Mrs. Forbes  abruptly covered the palm with its fingers and returned the folded hand  to its owner. "Be happy. You now have the key."

Minutes later Juliana climbed into Lady Grenville's newly painted  traveling coach. It was over: their strangely unsettling, strangely  exciting time at the Blue Boar Inn. There would be no more adventures on  her journey. She would reach London, find a comfortable husband, and  establish her brother firmly in the bosom of the ton. That was what she  wanted, the plan she and Aunt Sophia had devised. But what else did she  desire?

Instantly her thoughts flew to the two sleepless nights she had spent  filled with visions of the Marquis of Aubrey. Those moments they had  spent in Mrs. Forbes's garden almost seemed like a dream now, a dream  spun by the magic of Robbie's Romany music. A dream that must be put  behind her. The marquis had occupied too many of her thoughts already.  She was behaving like the veriest peagoose! It was simply a kiss.  Nothing more.

Incurably honest with herself, Juliana closed her eyes, brushing her  fingers lightly over her brow before opening her lids wide again. It had  been like no embrace she had ever known, she finally admitted. The  Marquis of Aubrey drew her to him in a way she had never imagined  possible. In Mrs. Forbes's cozy parlor she had thought he also sensed  this thing between them, that in some way he was reaching out to her.  But the next instant he had closed himself away from her as surely as if  a door had clicked shut between them.

Forcing herself not to think any longer about the marquis, she glanced  at her aunt, who appeared to be lost in her own thoughts, her eyes  holding a strange brightness. So Juliana turned to look out onto the  countryside. Soon they would be in London. Their future lay there. It  would be just as she wished, she felt sure, for she was determined the  plan would succeed. But, nonetheless, she could not keep Mrs. Forbes's  words out of her mind.





Chapter 4





ROME



Jules Devereaux, Comte de Saville, intended only to pause for one last  glance into the bedroom, but the seductive golden beauty of the woman  clearly discernable behind the gossamer hangings of silk drew him  closer. She looked like a goddess, long silken limbs, skin of creamy  alabaster, dark thick lashes laying like open fans above her  sleep-blushed cheekbones, and crimson velvet lips.

On impulse, with two long fingers he pushed back the netting to slip  noiselessly onto the ornately carved wooden bed that held his mistress.  She stirred him more than he had thought possible so few hours after  their long night of love, so he rested his hands on the pillow beside  her shoulders and leaned forward to touch her mouth with his own. He  felt her lips part hungrily beneath his deepening kiss.

"Jules … " breathed Contessa Marietta Louisa Primavetta, opening heavy  brown eyes, which widened when they met his gaze. "What is the hour,  Cara?"

"It is nearly dawn. My ship leaves on the tide."

She cupped his cheeks with her palms, pulling him down to her. Her  tongue flicked across his straight mouth curving it into a smile and  finally he surrendered, sighing, and rested his head against her  breasts. "You are unusually  …  eager  …  tonight, my love. I find it  delightful, of course," he mused. "But unlike you."