At least they were enjoying themselves! If Sir Alfred hadn't been directly across from her, she would have parted the flower arrangement to begin a new conversation, but with him it would do no good-she had never heard him offer an opinion on anything, and Lady Grenville would probably answer her anyway.
She could not see Jules, but she could sometimes hear snatches of his charming banter with the duchess. Only Dominic seemed to share her discomfort. Every time she glanced his way, which was more often than she should, he was wearing that blank look, or worse, a frown. Sometime tonight she must talk to Aunt Sophia. Perhaps if she knew more about this secret, she could find the right direction to reach through the barriers he'd built around himself.
The duchess rose gracefully, waggling her fingers at Sophia. "Come, my dear, we'll have a comfortable coze while the gentlemen tell their stories." She waited until Lady Grenville had ponderously risen from her chair, still wiping the remains of the last sweet from her fingers, then led all the ladies into the music room across the hall. At a speaking glance from her mother Charlotte went straight to the pianoforte and exclaimed over it.
"Please feel free to play, Charlotte. It is always delightful to have music after dinner." The Duchess settled onto the settee, inviting Lady Grenville and Sophia to join her.
Juliana wandered toward the doors overlooking a flagstone terrace. She opened one a crack and breathed in the sweetness of the summer evening. Grateful for a few moments of peace, she collected herself before the men joined them and she would be faced with Dominic's intrusive presence. Everything reflected him-a snatch of conversation would remind her of words they had shared; the duke would smile and she'd see Dominic's mouth laughing. She longed to share in the atmosphere of love and security that surrounded Rodney and Sophia, yet knew her own unhappiness barred the way. She felt so alone.
Jules had befriended her in London, but he was no help here. He hung back from the party, almost as if he were waiting for something. Dominic's brooding presence filtered into all her thoughts, compelling her to look at him, but he would always turn away. Then she'd turn to Jules's face to find he was watching them. There was nothing there to help her.
The slight breeze lifted a curl at the back of her neck and she turned to watch Sophia. The duchess was happily explaining Crawford wedding traditions. She sighed. Jules had certainly misled her. There hadn't been a sign that Sophia was resented or unwelcome. Juliana needn't have come. She could have stayed in London and spared herself.
Footsteps in the hallway roused the duchess to ring for tea. Discouraged and in no mood to deal with Dominic, Juliana signaled to Aunt Sophia that she was going out to the garden for a few moments. She slipped through the doorway and out onto the terrace as the men entered the room.
Walking down a crushed rock path through carefully designed flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges, she could feel the tension drain out of her. The path turned and she decided to follow it to the end. A small cul-de-sac held a marble statue of a shepherd with a lamb curled in sleep at his feet. She sat on the bench and gently ran a finger over the lamb's head. The stone felt cold. Madame Bretin's lovely gown was not practical for walking in the cool of an English night. She shivered and placed her palms over her bare shoulders.
"Shall I fetch your shawl?" A deep male voice spoke from the shadows.
She gasped in surprise when Dominic stepped out into the moonlight. A trembling started in the region of her stomach and threatened to overpower her. Now that she was finally alone with him again, the first time since Vauxhall, she was consumed with uncertainty. Follow her heart … she dare not be so bold.
"Thank you, no, I am quite comfortable," she replied softly, folding her trembling hand into the pleats of her evening gown.
He looked at her bent head, the shadow between her breasts, and, as always, he felt the urge to touch her. Instead he sat on the bench beside her. For a few moments he could sit with her in the peace of this lovely night.
Perhaps, he would even find the words he needed to explain that night at Vauxhall. He had seen the confusion and hurt in her eyes and somehow he must remove that look. For Juliana's sake, they needed to talk about what had happened between them. Then they both could forget it. The fault had been his. He had lost control, as if he were a lovesick boy. But tonight he had not drunk too much. Tonight he was in control. Tonight it would be all right to sit close like this for just a few moments more.
"We seem to meet in out of the way places, Juliana. You should be more careful where you stroll alone."
Her head came up abruptly, the look of pain and confusion again in her eyes.
"You have not made it easy for me to thank you … regardless of what occurred between us … I owe you much for finding me that night."
"You owe me nothing." His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. "I shouldn't have touched you that night. You're too fine, too perfect … " He caught himself. "I do apologize for my advances. Please forgive me."
Her eyes looked at him in mute appeal.
What did she want from him? To be here in the garden at his own home with her was a fantasy. He never would have believed it could happen, yet here she was and he found he could not bear it. Abruptly he stood to go.
"Dominic," she reached a trembling hand toward him and stood so that they were close. So very close that her scent filled his senses.
She's still cold, he told himself, the trembling means she's cold. Yet he could not resist taking her gently into his arms, even though he knew it was wrong.
"You're cold, my dear. We should go in."
Her trembling had transferred itself to him. They stood together for an eternity before he shifted her slowly in his arms so that he could bring his lips down onto her soft mouth. He had to do it. Just one more time he had to feel her melt into his embrace. Fingers gently molding her arms, he kissed her again. A soft sigh, a sweet breath released into his mouth. His kiss hardened and his arms moved lower to encircle her waist.
He was a lovesick boy! Carefully he put her away from him, separating their bodies. If he didn't stop now, he would carry her into the nearest flower bed and love her as he had been longing to do since they first met.
"We had best return to the others, Juliana. We shall be missed." He had to protect her from himself. As much as he longed to stay out here in the starry night with her, honor demanded that he return to the safety of the house immediately.
She was dreaming. Dominic wasn't really here. It was just a dream she had concocted sitting alone in the night. She reached her hand to his cheek and was surprised when he backed away. What had she done now?
He offered her his arm politely and drew her back down the path toward the house. Her fingers rode lightly over his muscle; it was clenched as if a great struggle was going on within him. They both were silent and too soon the lights from the house were visible.
All the party was gathered around the tea tray except George, who was choosing music for Charlotte to resume playing. Jules turned first at their entrance, a glint of steel in his face. He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.
Sophia's artless laugh filled the room. "Did you enjoy your walk in the garden? Rodney tells me the grounds here are lovely," she turned to the duchess, "and all to your design."
Lady Grenville opened her mouth but the duke, again, intervened. "Dominic, my boy. I wish to discuss Bristol's and Monmouth's plan for you to join the House of Lords. Wonderful idea, don't you think?"
Juliana smiled at the duke's eager face before turning to Dominic. Swallowing hard, she willed her heartbeat to slow down. "Thank you for the tour of the garden," she said quite distinctly. "All that fresh air has tired me, I believe I'll go up to my room now."
She wanted to be alone to savor the miracle. Dominic had kissed her again. Surely everyone in the room could see it plainly on her face.
Suddenly he stepped to block her path, bending toward her. "Not too tired to ride with me tomorrow." He spoke so softly that only she could hear. "I promise you a horse worthy of your talent, sired by Bucephalus."
She was unable to resist his conspiratorial whisper, and the light she saw in his eyes sent shivers of excitement through her. "I'd love to ride with you."