The Rake's Redemption(14)

Lord Liscombe grinned. "You called me Freddie. About time! You're a very comfortable female to be around, Juliana."

She couldn't but laugh at his glowing face. "Why thank you  …  Freddie.  You're very comfortable, too. You remind me of my brother George."

"Not sure I'm flattered that I remind you of your brother," Lord  Liscombe said wistfully, gazing at her with wide, sorrowful eyes, his  grin fading. "Not surprised though. Always happens when I'm with  Dominic; no one notices me."

"The marquis! I have not given him a thought," Juliana snapped. "It is a  great compliment to remind me of George," she added kindly.

Once again Freddie's grin widened. "Accept the compliment, Juliana. Glad  to hear you ain't smitten with Dominic. Knew you were full of good  sense! The way you handled yourself when you had the carriage accident,  stands to reason you wouldn't fall at Dominic's feet like most women."

Deep within her Juliana felt her spirits plunge. "I was under the  impression that the marquis was your friend," Juliana responded quietly.

"Dom's been my best friend since we were in short pants! Don't mean I'm  blind to his ways. Not his fault, I don't suppose, that the loveliest of  the ton throw themselves at him. Should know better after all these  years. All he does is raise their expectations and dash them when he  becomes bored."

"It sounds as though the marquis is a rake," Juliana said, raising her chin.

Freddie cast a worried glance at her and encountered her arctic glare.  "Dash it, you're right. Talking to you like my own sister. Shouldn't be  talking to you like this about Dominic. He's a great gun, truly! The  best horseman and finest swordsman in the whole ton. Bright too, so  clever sometimes can't even fathom what he's talking about. Hard to read  with the ladies, that's all."                       
       
           



       

"Don't concern yourself Freddie. I shall not repeat our conversation," she assured him with dignity.

Looking away from Freddie's worried face, she saw for the first time the  Marquis of Aubrey riding toward them with the most dashing and  beautiful lady she had ever encountered. As she watched, the vision  turned her head to speak to Dominic, revealing a perfect profile with a  sweep of raven black hair caught up under a fetching red hat à la Hussar  set at a jaunty angle. Her red velvet riding habit with its black  frogging and braid trim showed off her creamy complexion and her dark,  slightly slanted eyes. They were indeed a striking couple, the golden  marquis and this raven-haired beauty.

Dominic by moonlight had been stunning: the perfect angles of his face,  the clear true tones of his skin, hair and eyes, the grace of his  athletic, finely muscular body. Yet by the blaze of this afternoon's  sun, he shone even more brilliantly, searching sunbeams turning his  thick hair every shade of gold from citrine to amber.

Freddie followed the direction of her gaze. "That's Lady Dora Stanwood.  The Earl of North's daughter and Dominic's latest flirt."

"They make a stunning couple," she murmured, unable to drag her eyes away from them.

Freddie shrugged. "Dora thinks so. She's wild to a fault and the most  determined yet to snare him. Doubt she'll do it though. Bets are on at  White's that she won't bring him up to snuff. Her family wants her to  have a crown of strawberry leaves, but they don't particularly want her  to be Dominic's duchess." Flicking a side glance at her, Freddie coughed  before adding, "His reputation you know."

By this time the marquis had spotted them, and the pair turned their  horses, picking their way through the throng. The strong breeze which  had teased Juliana's plume had also disordered Dominic's hair so that a  heavy gold curl fell close to the tips of his thick lashes. There was  nothing in his expression to try to interpret at this meeting. His  perfect face was perfectly blank. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Grenville," he  said smoothly. "I don't believe you've met Lady Dora Stanwood." Glancing  at his partner a slow smile curled his lips. "Mrs. Grenville has just  arrived for the Season."

"How do you do," Lady Dora said in a soft, highly refined voice. "I hope you will find London to your liking."

"Thank you. I feel sure I will," replied Juliana, deciding that Lady  Dora's beauty had a cold perfection about it that she could not like.

Taking exception to a passing carriage, Dora's mare fidgeted slightly,  rearing its head. With a nod and a cool smile her ladyship moved off.  Dominic followed after the briefest of farewells. Juliana couldn't help  looking behind her as the marquis and Lady Stanwood threaded their way  carefully through riders and carriages until Freddie's voice brought her  back to her surroundings.

"Wonderful stallion of Dominic's. Arabian you know."

"Yes. I was just admiring it," she said innocently, turning to look at him. "I'd love to ride the animal myself."

"Oh, I say! No chance of that!" he laughed. "No one rides Bucephalus but  Dominic." For a moment he studied her. "Do you enjoy riding?"

"Oh, yes! I rode every day at home in Wentworth Park. My father had me in the saddle before I could walk."

"Don't keep a stable in town myself, but Dominic does. Sure he'd be  happy to find a proper mount for you. I'll speak to him if you'd like."

Juliana felt a ripple of excitement at the idea of riding beside the  marquis, for she knew that at least in this she was his equal, but  quickly pushed the thought away. "Thank you, but no. My aunt and I shall  be quite busy getting settled in and preparing for Charlotte's ball."

"Hope you'll save me a dance," Freddie grinned. "Perhaps even the first one."

"Of course, Freddie. It is yours!"

Nodding, he returned his attention to his horses, guiding them carefully through the mass of traffic.

Juliana was pleased that for the moment she did not have to make  conversation, for her mind was too busy with thoughts of the Marquis of  Aubrey: remembering being held against his hard, muscular chest in the  fleeting moments she had regained consciousness in his arms, the feel of  his lips on her wrist pulse, the way he had looked at her when Robbie  sang in the garden, the surprising emotion he awakened in her at the  moment of a stolen kiss, the tenderness in his eyes in Mrs. Forbes's  parlor before Lady Grenville arrived, and the way now he seemed to only  look through her. Why did it bother her so? Freddie had told her Dominic  was in the habit of dropping damsels the instant they bored him. That  must be it! The answer to the puzzle of Dominic's behavior was quite  simple; she had bored him. A fierce jolt of hurt moved through her body.  A heartbeat later an equally fierce wish to have the Marquis of Aubrey  groveling at her feet for some crumb of attention, which she denied him,  rose deliciously to her mind. She knew such thoughts were not worthy of  her, but never before had she been snubbed, however politely, by a  gentleman and she found she did not care for it. Especially Dominic.  Especially after the Blue Boar Inn. There had been something between  them which she refused to treat lightly, even as she tried to push it  out of her mind.                       
       
           



       

She would acknowledge that she had been attracted to him, and now wished  him to feel the same way. He had once, she knew, for she had seen it in  his eyes in the garden and across the card table at the Blue Boar.  Juliana did not know how she would do it, but that look would be there  again. And as soon as it was, she would  …  she would  …  she wasn't quite  sure what she would do.



The late afternoon sunshine pierced the windows of Wentworth House  checkering the rose carpeting of the lady's salon where Aunt Sophia sat  when Juliana returned from her drive.

"My dear, your plan has suffered a serious setback!"

Stopping in her tracks, a hot flush washed over Juliana. "How did you  know?" she blurted out, for she was so consumed with her plans for the  marquis that she was sure her aunt, who had an uncanny way of ferreting  out the truth, had seen through her immediately. She dropped down upon  the sofa. "I know it isn't worthy of me. I was sure you wouldn't  approve."

Sophia raised her eyebrows. "Did you use your parasol?" she asked  sharply, touching Juliana's flushed face. "Just as I suspected! You have  a fever. You must go to bed at once."

"No, no, Aunt! I am quite well. Truly." Shaking her head, she cupped her  warm cheeks with her palms, the wish to justify her intentions toward  the marquis warring with a strong conviction that she should lay open  her troubled spirit to her aunt. It took her a moment to decide which  course she would take. "I have no fever. I cannot believe you could  possibly know anything about my plan at this early date," she said  defensively.