Her room was an enormous garden: flower print of pink, periwinkle blue, and cream covered every inch of wall, curtained the bed, and covered the windows. A footman promptly appeared with hot water in huge jars. He crossed to a small room and pulled a copper hip bath in front of the fireplace, which he filled without speaking a word.
Immediately a diminutive young country girl, with a mop of glossy, daffodil yellow curls, appeared with lavender-scented towels. "Me name is Mary, and I'm to be your lady's maid during your stay, miss." She smiled saucily at the footman and hurried him out of the room before opening a bottle of scented oil and carefully adding a few drops to the steaming bathwater. "There. That will be ever so nice for you, miss. I have scented soap for your hair. I'll place the towels just here by the fire so they will be nice and warm. What else would you like, miss? I'm ever so happy to be here to serve you."
"I'm pleased to have you, Mary. I'm quite lost without my maid." Juliana didn't feel the slightest twinge of remorse for telling such a white lie, because Mary was so eager that she couldn't have told the child she nearly always dressed herself.
She was rewarded by a beaming smile and a constantly chattering tongue. During Juliana's bath she learned that Mary had just finished her training and she was her first lady, that Mary had seven brothers and sisters on one of the home farms, that Ma was poorly after the last baby, so all the older kids had gone into service to help out "exceptin" Thomas. Master Dominic got him into the navy as a cabin boy to a ol' school friend, Master Dominic says will look after him. "Imagine that!"
Juliana sat in front of the fire pulling a silver brush through her damp curls, smiling and nodding occasionally to encourage the young maid, but her mind was stayed on Dominic and the secret she would have to coax her aunt to share.
"Ooh, miss. This would be ever so pretty with your hair." Mary was holding up a jade green satin evening gown Juliana had never worn. "And real proper for dinner tonight. Her Grace always dresses every so grand. Even when it's just her and the duke. She'll be a right proper duchess with a house party and all."
When Juliana had rested, been dressed in the shimmering evening gown, and had her hair becomingly styled by an unexpectedly talented Mary, she went in search of her aunt. She stood outside Sophia's room looking up and down the corridor, feeling rather foolish hovering about, but she could hear voices from the bedchamber, and what she had to ask Aunt Sophia required privacy.
At last the door opened, but it was not the maid leaving. Aunt Sophia, resplendent in a cream silk gown with a gold satin overskirt, sailed out, followed by Lord Rodney.
"Juliana!" gasped Sophia, caught unaware. She looked radiant. There was a new light in her eyes and in Rodney's.
He immediately placed an arm about Sophia's shoulders. "You startled us, my dear Juliana," he began with great dignity. "I have just had the honor of presenting the Crawford betrothal ring to your aunt."
With a wide smile, Sophia held out her hand upon which she now wore a huge emerald surrounded by a blaze of diamonds. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Tears misted Juliana's eyes. "Lovely," she breathed, before kissing both on their cheeks. "I'm so happy that you two have found each other again."
Rodney offered an arm to Juliana while holding out his hand to Sophia. "What luck to be escorting the two loveliest ladies here to dinner."
They entered the drawing room where the duke and duchess awaited their guests. Rodney drew Sophia to the large wing chair and again formally presented her. Juliana watched the interplay carefully, searching for signs of disapproval, but could see none. The duchess, dressed in black silk with diamonds sparkling at her throat, ears, and wrists, welcomed Sophia openly and warmly. She lifted one eyebrow and spoke Rodney's name in a tone that must have caused terror in the schoolroom.
He immediately lifted Sophia's hand so the blaze of diamonds and emeralds could reflect the light.
Her Grace appeared relieved. "Ah, I see this will be a celebration dinner!" She beckoned to Rodney and he leaned down to receive a congratulatory kiss.
"I shall do my best to make him happy, Your Grace," Sophia remarked solemnly.
"I have no doubt you will succeed." Turning a stern eye to her youngest son, she studied him from the tips of his evening slippers to the top of his carefully combed dark curls. "He already looks better than he has in years. I believe he has even been able to give up his corse … "
"Rodney, my boy! We are delighted for you!" the duke interrupted. "I never thought to have such a beautiful daughter." He cupped Sophia's face in his hands as if she were a young girl. She responded with her particularly appealing smile. "Enchanting," he murmured before kissing her cheek.
"Grandfather always arrives in the nick of time," whispered Dominic, his breath softly stirring Juliana's curls. "Remember, I told you Mrs. Forbes's outspoken ways reminded me of my own grandmother."
When had he come in? She'd been so engrossed in Rodney and Sophia, she hadn't felt his presence. She turned slowly to face him. The candlelight lit golden and red highlights in his hair and cast intriguing shadows across the planes of his face. He was smiling at her, the first real smile in days, and she forced her breath to remain steady.
"I remember it well, Dominic. As I do all our meetings … although some have been more memorable than others."
Now, why had she said that-for the satisfaction of seeing surprise flicker through his eyes? Perhaps he'd forgotten Vauxhall, when for once he hadn't denied his need for her, but she never would. It had been a turning point for her, and now she very much feared all her happiness depended on him.
She shouldn't have reminded him. Dominic's eyes, that had sparkled with vitality, went curiously blank and the closeness of the moment before was gone.
"Tonight should be memorable, for we've discovered we shall soon be cousins," he said lightly. Then he looked at Rodney and Sophia accepting hearty congratulations from George and Charlotte. "He appears to be very happy tonight. I hope he remains that way."
Before she could answer, he walked away. Frustrated, she wanted to follow. Why should he question Rodney and Sophia's happiness? Why did every attempt to bring him closer just push him farther away? He had approached Lady Grenville, and Juliana was reluctant to confront her until she had learned more about her mysterious statement in the carriage.
Dearborne, the butler, announced dinner. Dominic offered his arm to Charlotte-a gesture that drew warm smiles from his grandmother and her mother, but thoughtful frowns from George and the duke.
Although the vaulted ceiling of the great dining hall cast dark shadows, the room had a festive air. A large fire blazed in the hearth and two six-branched candelabra lit the long, polished table. Candles burned on the mantel and on the sideboard from which Dearborne supervised the serving of their dinner.
By the time the company had sampled potage St. Germaine, the fruits de mer platter, and started on the rack of veal, Juliana was wishing for her room. She had the unenviable position in the middle of the table, flanked by George and Lady Grenville, and facing Lord Grenville. She envied her aunt the position at the duke's right, for laughter could be heard often at their end of the table. No one ignored her precisely, but most often she suffered through Lady Grenville's boring monologue. Juliana now knew all of Lady Grenville's connections to the Crawfords, the age and partial history of the Towers, even the size of the stone in the heir's betrothal ring, which she made sure Juliana realized was larger and more valuable than the one presented to Aunt Sophia.
Lady Grenville had smirked when relating this little tidbit and cast an indulgent eye at Charlotte who was leaning eagerly across the table to talk to George. "Normally," she informed Juliana, "Charlotte would be taken to task for this indiscretion, but since this a family party, strict social rules can be relaxed somewhat."
And Juliana mused, it was an opportunity for Charlotte to display her interest in and knowledge of country matters. In fact, she and George were discussing the merits of draining the east four hundred acres near the creek, which divided the Park from the Willows. Never before had she realized how much they had in common.