"You have never left me for months before, Jules," she whispered, threading her fingers through his straight dark hair. "Must you truly return to dreary London for that insipid Season?"
Reluctantly leaving the soft fragrance of her body, Jules straightened, taking both her hands between his. "I must go. The time is right for me to repay my brother for the past."
Her gaze narrowing, she freed one hand to touch the black patch he wore over his left eye. "Your younger brother, the Marquis of Aubrey, is it not? Did he have anything to do with the loss of your sight?"
"Sweet, allow me my secrets." He pressed kisses into her open palms. "It was my mysterious past and my patch … you thought me a pirate, remember? … that first attracted you to me."
"But that was seven years ago. And I know little more about your past now than I did then," replied Marietta candidly. Tilting her head back, she smiled into his face. "You have not been back to England since we met. I know your half brother is your only relative. Do you miss this loved one, Cara?"
Gently he lowered her hands to the covers and rose from the bed. He hesitated a moment, studying her, before reaching down to caress the curve of her cheek with his thumb. "Love for my brother. Yes. Once. But that does not call me back to England. It is something quite different. Something that must be settled between Dominic and me … at last."
LONDON
Wentworth House seemed small after the vastness of the Park, but Juliana rather liked the cozy front parlor. Her father had decorated it in her favorite colors of rose, blue, and cream only a few months prior to his unexpected demise from an inflammation of the lungs brought about by his stubborn refusal to leave the hunting field during a thunderstorm. It was difficult to believe that two long years had passed, for the holland covers removed from all the furnishings before their arrival, had insured that the colors remained true and everything was dusted and polished to a fine sheen just as if her father himself was in residence continually.
A small fire, for cheer rather than warmth, burned in the grate of the carved marble fireplace before which she sat with an unopened volume of Lord Byron's poems on her lap. Across the room Sophia lay stretched out upon the sofa. A soft snore parted her lips.
Juliana smiled. Perhaps a nap was just what she needed herself. She wasn't sleeping well. She had told her aunt it was the strange bed, but when she was completely honest with herself, she knew that was not true. Dreams disturbed her slumber. Dreams of the Marquis of Aubrey smiling at her as he had in the walled garden when he presented her with the rose. Dreams of him again bending over her hand and pressing his lips to the pulse beating in her wrist. Dreams of a stolen moment, his tender kiss. Dreams that assumed nightmare quality when he raised his head to look at her and she found that his wonderful face had changed into a hard, angry mask that chilled her. It was that coldness that always awakened her, for she'd find her bedclothes tossed aside as if in her restlessness she had pushed and kicked them away. Dominic Crawford, Marquis of Aubrey, why did he haunt her?
Abruptly the parlor doors were flung open by Smithers, wearing his habitually sour expression.
"The Marquis of Aubrey and Lord Freddie Liscombe!" he announced in a booming voice, which caused Sophia to jump, her eyelids flying open, and her hands fluttering to her white lace cap which was sadly askew.
The object of Juliana's thoughts stood seemingly relaxed, smiling with cool civility, framed like a Della Robbia angel within the wide rectangle of the parlor door. He looked magnificent. The cut of his deep blue morning coat displayed to perfection the breath of his splendid shoulders, and its color set off the uniquely rich gold of his hair.
She gazed at him, feeling the tiniest bit giddy, much as she had on her eighteenth birthday when she had partaken of four glasses of champagne. She freely admitted that the lump on her head, sustained in the carriage accident, had had nothing to do with her state of mind at the inn; she was very strangely affected by this gentleman she barely knew, and who had proven by his unconventional behavior that he might not be worthy of her friendship. She found she was holding her breath in anticipation.
His behavior was disappointingly conventional this morning. He greeted Sophia warmly, but only raised Juliana's fingers toward his lips, managing to miss contact entirely. Dominic stepped back for Freddie to greet her in a like manner, except the pleasant smile that brightened his brown eyes was a great deal warmer than the marquis's, and his lips pressed gently against her fingers.
"How kind of you both to call. Please be seated." Sophia said cordially, patting the low cream sofa upon which she was reclining, and motioning Freddie to the rose velvet bench beside Juliana.
"How do you like London, Juliana?" Freddie asked eagerly, sitting forward on the bench at such an angle that she feared he would tumble over.
She smiled easily, "London is splendid, Lord Liscombe. We are quite looking forward to the Season."
"It can be tedious, Juliana. Of course, all depends on your expectations," Dominic drawled. "I hope it comes up to yours, ma'am."
Juliana glanced away from Freddie's intent face to where Dominic sat on the sofa, one hand playing idly with his quizzing glass. The mouth she remembered as perfect, soft, and persuasive in the garden was curled into a hard derisive smile. All those tender memories tightened inside her, a small rose of perfection closing against the onslaught of night. Obviously he had taken a dislike of her, for how else could she explain this odd behavior? But she was not such a poor-spirited creature that she would allow him to see how much it disturbed her.
Raising her chin, she looked at him with what she hoped was a withering glance, but immediately thought better of it. Instead she deliberately widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes, a simpering miss straight out of the schoolroom awed by the honor he did them by his morning call. "I am sure it will not be a disappointment, my lord," she replied in what she knew was a languid tone. "It is all a shocking squeeze, of course, but it is delightful to have such new friends as Lord Liscombe and you, my lord marquis." If Dominic was determined to be rude and boorish, she would show him that she could not be so easily overset. How foolish she was to have even a flicker of regard for him. He was nothing but a conceited flirt! The only explanation for his behavior was that he had found it amusing to dazzle them with his charm at the Blue Boar, thereby adding her to his long list of conquests. And, now that they were in London he no longer chose to so honor them. Well, she for one, would not be so shabbily used!
The marquis's lips twitched in apparent amusement at her schooled expression of demure delight, but Aunt Sophia was not so affected. She eyed Juliana doubtfully for a moment before the dimple hovered beside her mouth. Then turning to the marquis, she deftly changed the subject. "Is Lord Rodney in town, Dominic?"
His eyes lightened as surprise flitted across his face. "Know my uncle do you, Sophia? Shouldn't admit it, my dear. He's the worst reprobate in the ton. The duchess has quite washed her hands of the old boy."
Aunt Sophia raised her eyebrows in lively curiosity. "Really, Dominic? How intriguing! He sounds more fascinating than he was twenty years ago when I knew him. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance."
The Marquis of Aubrey stretched his arm lazily across the back of the sofa. "I believe you will have the pleasure of meeting him again at Miss Grenville's ball Friday next."
Sophia smiled. "I would hardly expect to find the worst reprobate in the ton at a come-out ball."
"Quite so, ma'am," he laughed softly. "However, my grandmother has decreed that my uncle and I both attend as Lady Grenville is in some way connected with the family."
"I say, that was quite a coincidence Dominic running into his cousins at the Blue Boar," Freddie chuckled. "Did Mrs. Forbes mix any elixir for her ladyship?"
Biting her lip, Juliana met Sophia's bright eyes before her aunt replied, "Yes, a potion to curtail her appetite."
"Does it work?" Freddie questioned eagerly. "My mother could use it. She's drinking vinegar now because Byron says that's how he keeps thin. Damn silly if you ask me!"
Nodding her head, Aunt Sophia cast him an understanding glance. "So right, Freddie. Vinegar indeed! But I'm quite sure Mrs. Forbes's potion would work. Didn't everything else? However, Lady Grenville chose to leave it behind, saying it was such an obnoxious mixture she wouldn't feed it to a sow."