"Oh, I say, I hope Mrs. Forbes's feelings weren't hurt." Such a heavy crease appeared in Freddie's forehead, Juliana patted his hand.
"Don't worry. Aunt Sophia put it with our own herb potions and brought it with us. She thought it might come in handy someday."
"And so it might," commented her Aunt. "Oh, thank you, Smithers. You may place the tea tray here in front of me. I shall pour."
Certainly Dominic had been carefully watching a clock tick away the minutes because after one cup of tea and exactly the correct span of elapsed time for a morning call, he rose leisurely from the sofa and bent over Sophia, lightly kissing her fingers. "I trust we will meet again at the Grenville ball and that Uncle Rodney isn't a disappointment to you."
"Of course, Dominic, I look forward to seeing you both there," Sophia returned serenely. "I am sure Juliana shall also be happy to see you."
Without meeting her eyes, something he had studiously avoided all morning, Dominic sketched a neat bow at Juliana before casting a disgusted look at Lord Liscombe. Much to Juliana's embarrassment, Freddie was leaning forward on the bench earnestly studying her profile. "Stop making such a cake of yourself, Freddie! It's time to take our leave."
"Gammon!" said Freddie, looking not a whit displeased at this reading of his behavior. "Just want to invite Juliana to drive in the park tomorrow. Had to wait until you finished discussing your family tree. Poor Rod! He's not the worst reprobate in the ton, Old Cripplegate is and you know it! Quite fond of Rod myself and I'm sure Sophia and Juliana will be, too!"
Juliana met the diamond brightness of Dominic's eyes at last in a brief instant of shared amusement and was more confused than ever. Drat the man! His behavior was totally incomprehensible. One moment he looked at her with an aloof coldness that bordered on dislike, and the next she saw in his eyes a warmth that was quite pleasant, indeed.
For some reason she did not understand he was no longer the same man who had walked with her in Mrs. Forbes's garden and sat under the stars spellbound by Robbie's music. Why had he changed? Had she somehow offended him? How? And what could she do to rectify her error? She would like him to be a friend, for London was his world, not hers, and she was a bit frightened of it. She had lived too long in the tranquility of Wentworth Park. She felt she had been drifting aimlessly for the last six years and now the hustle and bustle of the city was quickening her blood, tingling her nerves, opening her eyes again to the world.
"Juliana, Freddie is waiting for an answer," her aunt firmly reminded her.
How long had she been woolgathering? Hot with embarrassment, she smiled her gentlest smile, the one she had perfected for Reverend Potts whenever she fell asleep during one of his sermons, and turned her eyes to Freddie's expectant face.
"I would be most happy to drive with you tomorrow. I quite look forward to it!"
"I'm honored, Juliana," Freddie bowed, his wide cheeks flushed with pleasure.
For once Dominic's expression was not difficult for Juliana to interpret. He was looking at her like a farmer mulling over what to do about the fox in his fowl yard. It would have been pleasant to match his stare with a cold one of her own, but she somehow maintained her fixed smile of pleasure until the door clicked shut behind them.
Biting her lip, she twirled away, pacing restlessly from the carved mantel to the blue velvet hung windows, to the small, round gilt mirror over the rosewood table. She stared at her reflection. She had been told she was beautiful, but all she saw in the mirror were green eyes in a sometimes too pale face, a nose a bit short for real beauty, and a mouth with a full lower lip. Pulling thick auburn curls first one way and then another, she attempted to change that image but was not pleased with the results.
Sophia subjected Juliana's back and reflection to a critical survey. "You really are quite beautiful, my dear. There really is no need for concern."
Juliana gave her a warm smile. "Thank you, love. I shall allow you to flatter me, but … ," she frowned, "but I believe improvements could be made!"
Marching to the bellpull, she gave it a strong tug. Almost immediately Smithers appeared in the doorway. He did not look pleased, but then Juliana had found he never did.
"You require my services, ma'am?" he asked in sepulchral tones.
Aunt Sophia rolled her eyes looking to Juliana. Taking a stance before the fireplace, Juliana clasped her hands tightly in front of her.
"Smithers, I need your help," she said firmly. "My aunt and I wish to cut a dash at Miss Charlotte's ball, but we need advice. Who should gown us and dress our hair?" She gave him her most charmingly rueful grin. "Can you help us, Smithers? My Father always told me you were up to every rig and row in town."
Smithers's sour expression did not alter in the slightest. "As to that, Miss Juliana, I cannot say. However, I have been informed that Monsieur Henri is a genius with a coiffure. I have likewise been informed that Madame Bretin on Bond Street is the finest modiste in London." He bowed deeply. "I shall see to it, Ma'am."
Only after the door shut behind Smithers tall black-clad figure did Juliana allow herself a heartfelt sigh of relief.
"My dear, you were superb!" Sophia laughed. "I have always been in awe of Smithers, although … ," she shrugged, "I can't imagine why, because he looks exactly like your late father's favorite hound Claudius. Have you ever noticed the resemblance?"
"Aunt Sophia, please! How can you say such things about Smithers? He shall fix us up all right and tight. Father depended upon him utterly. And in this instance I must do so, too, for I have no idea how to go on myself."
"Is this part of your campaign to find your lonely widower, my dear?" asked her aunt with a decided sparkle in her gray eyes.
A face flashed into Juliana's thoughts, but it had not the slightest resemblance to an aging widower. Why should she wish to impress him? Naturally, it was only her Vane family pride that made her wish to look her best; it had absolutely nothing to do with an absurd wish to once again see blatant admiration in a pair of magnificent blue eyes.
Juliana smiled with pleasure up into Freddie's round, open face. They had a perfect afternoon for a ride in the park.
Eyeing her in appreciation, Freddie's mouth curved into a wide grin when he helped her into his shining black curricle.
"You'll turn heads today, Juliana. You're in great looks," he complimented.
"Thank you," she replied softly, rather pleased herself with her dark green velvet pelisse and matching hat with its curled beige ostrich plume. She had kept Freddie waiting a fashionable twenty minutes while she took great care with her toilette. One never knew whom one might meet on a drive, she had said pertly to her aunt when quizzed about her uncharacteristic fussing. Settling back with a sigh, she turned a serene countenance to her companion. She was quite looking forward to this outing.
A strong spring breeze lifted Juliana's curled ostrich plume tickling her cheek. Laughing, she flicked it back into place, gazing once again in awe at the bustling knots of shoppers and hawkers on the streets of London. She thought she would never become accustomed to its crowded condition. The air was not the sweet, clean scent of Wentworth Park, rather a heavy acid smell, yet for some reason it filled Juliana with new energy.
They entered through the high stone gateway of Hyde Park and immediately joined the mass of barouches, phaetons, dashing curricles, beautiful horses with equally impressive riders, and old-fashioned landaus carrying the dowagers and young misses of the ton on Rotten Row.
Juliana had married Will without having a Season, but Freddie was well-known and apparently quite a favorite, for they were greeted on all sides and often stopped so that she could be introduced. Juliana feared she would never recall all her new acquaintances.
They had just left a plump, merry matron whom Freddie had introduced as Lady Jersey when, in a sonorous whisper, he informed her that Sally Jersey was one of the patrons of Almacks, that great bastion of the ton.
"No need to worry though," Freddie told her confidently. "Old harridan is a bosom friend of my mother's. Put a good word in for you with the old girl."
"Freddie! I'm sure Lady Jersey wouldn't enjoy being referred to as a harridan or as the old girl!" admonished Juliana with gentle firmness, much as she had done for years to George whenever he had forgotten his manners.