Juliana (46 page)

“I cannot climb through a window!”

“Then use the servants’ exit. Either way, I’ll expect you at my house at ten o’clock.”

Muttering, Lady Amanda shut the window in question, and Juliana turned and looked at James for a moment. She raised her hands and placed them on his shoulders. “I was going to kiss you before Amanda opened the window,” she said softly.

Actually, he’d been going to kiss
her
, but he didn’t think it would be a good idea to argue. Especially when she was looking at him like that, with her eyes so very blue. Even with only the moonlight, he could tell they were blue.

“It’s going to work out,” she declared. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes,” he said, and Juliana kissed him. After all the weeks he’d spent trying to tempt her into letting him kiss her, she kissed him. She kissed him as they walked back to the street, stumbling and kissing along the side of the house. And as they walked down the street, ignoring a carriage that rumbled by. And when they got to her doorstep, she still kept kissing him.

Finally, James pulled back with a low laugh. “You’re wearing out my lips.”

She pulled his head down and kissed him again, a quick, joyous kiss.

“I’m never going to last until next Saturday,” he said. “I need macaroons for extra energy.”

“Oh,” she said with a sigh, and then, “You know what, James? I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”

“I agree,” he said. “No secrets, and no lies.”

“I
never
lie,” she said, sounding a little defensive. “Well, I did lie to that dratted doctor, but I never lie unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. I don’t want any lies, either, and no half-truths.” She drew a deep breath. “The macaroons don’t really give one extra energy,” she confessed in a rush.

“Oh, really?” He snickered.

“Did you snicker at me? Me, the girl you want to marry?”

Well, maybe he had, but only because he found her little superstitions so charming. He wasn’t superstitious at all, and he couldn’t quite believe anyone would think macaroons could give one extra energy. Or do anything else, either, other than taste delicious.

“I didn’t snicker,” he said, although that meant he was already telling her a half-truth.

He’d been married before, so he knew some half-truths were part of a harmonious relationship. But he wouldn’t tell her a half-truth unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

“All right,” she said, and then, in a lower tone, “I actually baked them to make you…
amorous
.”

“Oh, really?” he repeated, but he didn’t snicker. There was no way macaroons could make one amorous, either. But he loved that she thought they did. “You’re a treasure, Juliana,” he told her, hoping she’d bake him macaroons many, many times in the years to come.

Hoping very hard.

And then he kissed her again and left, and went home and spent the rest of the night with his fingers crossed, even though he wasn’t superstitious.

IN THE END,
Amanda was the one who objected.

Shaking like a leaf, she arrived at Juliana’s house at quarter past ten. “What took you so long?” Juliana asked. “You were supposed to be here at ten. You only live down the street.”

“It was this dress.” She brushed at enormous, voluminous white skirts that were at least twenty years out of fashion. Faith, they were so wide there had to be hoops under them. “Have you ever tried to climb down a ladder in a dress this big?”

“Why are you wearing it?”

Amanda looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “It’s my grandmother’s wedding dress. It’s a tradition in my family to wear it.”

Fifty years out of fashion, then. The skirts were actually somewhat yellowed, not pure white. “You’re not getting married today, Amanda. That’s the whole point of going to talk to Lord Neville.”

“After I told my father I was getting dressed for my wedding, I couldn’t very well not do that, could I?” she said primly. She looked to the duke. “Besides, we’re getting married today, aren’t we?”

“Not today,” the duke said in his stiff way. “A ducal wedding generally requires some months of preparation.”

“If you love a girl,” James said scornfully, “I should think you’d want to marry her as soon as possible.”

Juliana thought she heard him mutter “what a turd” under his breath, but surely he wouldn’t say that. Not about a duke. And then she worried for a moment that the duke would blurt out that he didn’t love Amanda, but only held her in some affection, which could ruin everything.

But thankfully that didn’t happen. They all walked next door to Lord Neville’s house, and James banged the knocker.

The gaunt butler answered. “Yes?”

“We’ve come to call on Lord Neville,” Juliana said.

The old fellow’s eyes widened when he spotted Amanda in a wedding dress that his own bride could have worn fifty years ago, assuming he’d ever married, which he probably hadn’t since most people required their butlers to remain bachelors. But he was a mannerly sort of butler, so he didn’t say anything. About that, anyway. “Wait in the drawing room, if you please,” he said instead, “and I shall see if Lord Neville is at home.”

Viscount Neville was at home, of course. He spent his evenings gambling at his club, which meant he was never out and about very early. In fact, he came downstairs looking a bit rumpled, as though perhaps his valet had needed to drag him out of bed.

Juliana could see right off that he was Amanda’s father. Amanda fit in age between Emily’s two brothers, the one who was married and the other one who was away at Cambridge most of the year. Lord Neville was blond and gray-eyed like both of his daughters, and tall like both of his daughters, too. And as he seemed to overindulge in everything, Juliana wasn’t surprised to learn that he’d had a dalliance with Amanda’s mother.

Or at least not as surprised as she’d have been a few weeks ago. It seemed she lived on a very promiscuous street. Besides Lord Neville’s affair with Amanda’s mother, Lord Wolverston had carried on with the late Duchess of Castleton when she’d lived in Juliana’s house.

It was a good thing she’d be moving to St. James’s Place soon.

Assuming everything worked out, that was. She really couldn’t wait any longer to find out.

No one was saying anything, and, in fact, Viscount Neville seemed a little mystified to find all these people in his house. He seemed especially fascinated by Amanda in her ancient wedding dress. Juliana was dying to resolve everything, so she figured she might as well just spit it out. “Lord Neville, are you Lady Amanda’s father? She has a fleur-de-lis birthmark in the same place as you and Emily.”

Amanda gasped and blushed wildly, and Juliana was sorry to embarrass her, because she knew Amanda considered that private. But she figured it was better to come out and say it than to wait and have Lord Neville ask to see it, which would have been even more embarrassing for Amanda.

“I’ve been wondering about that,” Lord Neville said slowly, “for eighteen years. Please, let me explain.”

Lord Neville had been between wives when Amanda was conceived. He’d been very much in love with Lady Amanda’s mother, but Lord Wolverston had refused her the divorce she wanted. Unfortunately, it had been—and still was—impossible for a woman to divorce a man, although a man could divorce his wife if she’d been unfaithful. Lord Neville and Lady Wolverston weren’t precisely sure that the child she was carrying was the viscount’s, so they’d been planning to wait to see if the baby had the Neville birthmark, and if that proved to be true, they’d planned to use it as leverage to press for the divorce. Wolverston wasn’t the sort of man who could stomach people knowing he’d been cuckolded, especially if they’d had the proof to show all of society. His honor meant everything to him. He put his reputation before everyone else’s happiness.

“Well,
that’s
certainly the truth,” Juliana muttered.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Lord Neville said to Amanda. Her face had gone rather white, and she was looking at him. Just looking at him. He began moving toward her. “I was devastated when your mother died giving birth and Lord Wolverston refused to let me even see you. He wasn’t a very nice man.”

“He still isn’t,” Juliana said.

“I never knew for sure whether you were my daughter,” Lord Neville continued, still inching toward Amanda. Who was still just looking at him. “I hoped you were, but there was no way to find out. As you grew, I would see you sometimes, and I thought more than once about asking you if you had the birthmark. But you seemed a very reserved young lady, and I feared such a question would shock you clear down to your toes.”

“It would have,” Juliana said.

Lord Neville was standing right in front of Amanda now. “I also feared Lord Wolverston might treat you harshly, suspecting you might not carry his blood in your veins—”

“He did,” Juliana interrupted.

Lord Neville hung his head. “I’m so sorry.”

Amanda suddenly came to life. She
was
a very reserved young lady, so she didn’t jump into Lord Neville’s arms like Juliana might have done, but she finally opened her mouth.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “I understand. And I’m so glad you’re my father instead of Lord Wolverston.”

Lord Neville did gather her into his arms then, embracing her tightly. Amanda’s arms went around him, too, although they appeared rather reluctant and loose.

“I’m glad that’s settled,” the duke declared. “Now we can start planning our wedding for next summer.”

And
that’s
when Amanda objected.

She released Lord Neville—heaven forbid she should stay improperly close to a man, even a man she’d just discovered was her father—and turned to the duke. “I object to that plan,” she said, and then she added scornfully, “If you love me, I should think you’d want to marry me as soon as possible.”

Evidently, the duke had no answer to that, since he just stood there with his mouth open.

Amanda lifted her chin. “I’m wearing my grandmother’s wedding dress. I think we should elope right now to Gretna Green.”

“That wouldn’t be very ducal,” he finally said, “or at all proper.”

Amanda raised her chin higher. “I don’t care,” she said. “I’m tired of being proper. I want to marry you now.”

And then she gave him
the look
. She glanced down, bowing her head a little to display her lashes against her cheeks. Then she swept her eyelids up, gazed at the duke full on again, and slowly—very slowly—curved her lips in an alluring smile.

The duke didn’t fall at her feet. But he did sigh and say, “Very well, then.”

Juliana was shocked. Positively shocked. When
she’d
tried that on the duke, he hadn’t reacted at all.

Obviously she’d been right that he and Amanda were ideal for each other.

James’s arm stole around Juliana’s waist, in front of everyone. He pulled her against his side, where she fit perfectly. “Everything worked out,” he murmured in her ear, a low, chocolatey murmur that made her shiver.

Though everything had indeed worked out, it was just too sensational for Juliana to quite believe. Wasn’t there someone who could still make an objection? Someone who could still ruin everything? ”What about Lord Wolverston?” she asked Amanda, crossing her fingers.

“He’s not my father,” Amanda reminded her, flashing a smile at Lord Neville. “I have no obligation to obey him. And I couldn’t care a fig about him
or
my inheritance. David is all I need.”

Juliana was bursting with pride. She’d taught Amanda well.

And Juliana could uncross her fingers now. Come to that, she could throw her arms around her new—official—fiancé, too!

She promptly did, crying, “Oh, James, I’m sure I’ve never, ever been so happy!” And then, her heart swelling so much she feared it might burst, she kissed him in front of everyone.

“Ahem.”

She broke apart from James to find both the duke and Amanda gaping at them, looking extremely reproachful. But Juliana couldn’t bring herself to care. She only laughed.

Though she
had
learned a lesson about trying to change people. And she had a declaration.

“I’m never going to meddle again,” she said.

James snickered, and everyone else laughed.