Juliana (47 page)

“THANK YOU
very much,” one of the Foundling Hospital’s Governors said in the Committee Room that afternoon. “Our next reception day is the second Saturday in August.”

“The tenth?” Juliana asked.

“Yes,” another Governor confirmed. “We very much appreciate you donating the baby clothes, my dear.”

James held his tongue until they were outside in the Hospital’s courtyard. But he couldn’t contain himself any longer than that. “I cannot believe you committed to making more baby clothes! You’re exhausted and overwhelmed!”

“How can I deny these poor children anything I’m able to give?” Juliana gestured to all the girls exercising in their matching uniforms. “If, due to my donation, only one more baby can be accommodated, only one more mother restored to work and a life of virtue, it will be entirely worth it.”

Apparently seeing he wasn’t convinced, she moved closer and reached up to put her hands on his shoulders. Sunshine and flowers washed over him.

“I know what I’m getting into this time,” she said. “I can pace myself better. Last time I started with just one party a week, but now I know—”

“You’re not having any more sewing parties,” he interrupted. “We’ll hire people to make the baby clothes.”

“Much as I love you for saving me yesterday, this shouldn’t be your responsibility.”

“Who said anything about
my
responsibility? I’ve already found you plenty of seamstresses. I trust you can handle the rest.”

She laughed. “Are you sure they’d want the work? Those fifty pounds you gave each of them ought to last awhile.” She shook her head. “Do you realize that’s enough to cover a family’s expenses for two years? You’re too nice, James. You’re too generous.”

He could never be too nice or too generous to her. She deserved everything he could give her and more. She was a treasure. She was exactly what he needed.

He didn’t know how he was going to wait until next Saturday.

“Besides,” she went on, “don’t you want to save your money to pay for more smallpox vaccinations?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re a treasure?” Was there another girl anywhere as concerned for everyone but herself? “I don’t have enough money to rid the world of smallpox singlehandedly, but I can do my part here in London and still afford to support other causes. And buy you beautiful dresses and anything else you ever want.” He flashed her a grin. “I’m not a pauper, you know.”

“I know. You set your table with gold spoons.”

“They’re sterling plated in gold,” he informed her.

“I figured that out.” She sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make baby clothes?”

She wasn’t particularly good at it, and there wasn’t another lady of the
ton
who would willingly do such mundane work. But then, no other aristocratic ladies he knew set foot in the kitchen, either. Juliana was different, and that was why he loved her.

He smiled down at her, loving her more than he’d ever thought possible, wanting her more than he wanted his own life. The next seven days were going to be the longest of his life.

“Of course I want you to make baby clothes,” he told her. “For
our
babies.”

And he watched her eyes turn blue before he kissed her.

Saturday, August 10
Cainewood Castle

IN RECENT WEEKS
, when Juliana had dreamed of walking down the aisle, she’d often pictured the duke.

But she’d never imagined Amanda would be on the gentleman’s arm.

As she turned to face her guests after the ceremony in her family’s ancient chapel, she glimpsed their two pale, beautiful faces in the crowd. And the truth dawned on her: her real life was so much better than anything she could dream up.

Even with a snake accompanying the flower girl.

Emily had never come down with smallpox—thanks to James—and the Lambourne girls had recovered, too. Since Amanda and the duke had returned from Gretna Green, Juliana had sometimes seen them holding hands, and she was beginning to trust that one day they’d pluck up the courage to make a child together—assuming at least one of them knew how the unseemly deed was done. And miracle of miracles, Aunt Frances and Lord Malmsey had
already
started a child. Last month, Juliana had returned from delivering the baby clothes to find the two of them waiting in the drawing room with a minister and a special license. Two weeks later, Frances had missed her monthly.

Everyone was happy.

Except for James.

She could feel the tension in his arm as they walked back up the aisle. He’d been so frustrated when Frances, his aunts, and his mother had all insisted on having a full month to plan this wedding, and even more frustrated to find that the preparations had proved so consuming—and all the women in his life suddenly so vigilant—that the two of them had found it impossible to steal even a moment of private time.

Well, she’d been frustrated, too, of course. But after all, she planned on marrying only once. She’d needed a wedding dress, and she’d wanted everything to be perfect.

And it was.

Still and all, being always together yet always under observation had been terribly difficult for them both, and she’d found herself relieved a couple of weeks ago when Parliament adjourned, meaning the season ended and everyone dispersed to their estates in the countryside. James had stayed in London to help his mother move in with her two sisters, and the four of them had arrived here only last night.

As they emerged from the chapel into Cainewood’s quadrangle, James ran his hand down all the little covered buttons on the back of her beautiful white wedding dress. “There. We’re married. Can we be alone now?”

She laughed. “We cannot abandon our guests two minutes after the ceremony, James.”

There hadn’t been time to plan a large wedding—it would have taken much longer than a month for that—but everyone she cared about was here. Her gaze skimmed the clipped green lawn that sat in the middle of the castle’s towering four stories of living quarters. There, in the shadows of the crenelated walls, stood her sisters. Corinna’s eyes shone as she laid a hand on Alexandra’s blue-silk-covered middle, which was protruding a little bit now. Beside them, Tristan beamed at his wife.

People Juliana had grown up with were scattered over the grounds, a contingent from Berkeley Square by the tumbledown keep, a few countryside neighbors walking the battlements. James’s friends and associates were here, too. Claire and Elizabeth were sharing a confidence—hmm, Juliana would have to wheedle it out of Claire later—and their tall, handsome brother Noah was chatting with James’s aunts.

There was Lady Stafford—finally Juliana’s mother-in-law—leaning much closer to Lord Cavanaugh than was strictly proper. There were the duke and Amanda, holding hands again and talking to Lord Neville and Emily. There was Lady Mabel, who wasn’t wheezing out here in the countryside. There, standing in the untamed, ankle-high vegetation way over in the old tilting yard, were Lord Malmsey and Aunt Frances—

“James? May I borrow your quizzing glass?”

Dressed formally as he was, he had it in a pocket instead of hanging from a chain around his neck. When he pulled it out and handed it to her, she raised it to her left eye.

“Aunt Frances is wearing her spectacles!”

“Lord Malmsey doesn’t seem to mind,” James observed as they watched the older couple steal a kiss. “They do say love is blind.”

“Who says it?” she asked, handing him back the quizzing glass. “Please don’t tell me it’s a Roman proverb.”

His low laugh vibrated right through her. “I believe I heard it at the theater.
Romeo and Juliet
, if I’m not mistaken. I’m not all that bookish, you know. I mostly prefer newspapers and novels.”

So did she. And she loved the theater. They
did
have common interests. With a happy sigh, she looked back out over the scene, noticing Rachael standing off by herself, watching Griffin mount the steps to the great hall.

James slipped the quizzing glass into his pocket and pulled something else out instead. Something that sparkled in the afternoon sun. “A little something to remember this day,” he said with a smile.

“I have my ring,” she pointed out. She twirled the plain gold band—a Stafford heirloom that she’d instantly adored—around her finger. “And I have you, which is the best thing of all.”

“And now you have this.” He held up the pendant, a white gold heart encrusted with diamonds.

Her breath caught at the sight of it.

James moved closer to fasten the delicate chain around her neck. “It’s been at least five minutes,” he murmured by her ear. “Can we abandon them now?”

“No,” she said with another laugh, touching the gorgeous pendant where it was framed in her neckline. “I need to mingle with our guests.”

With a finger on her chin, he lifted her face. Her heart squeezed in her chest and suddenly, she felt breathless.

“I’ll give you an hour,” he warned softly against her lips. “But not a minute more.” Then he quickly kissed her and sent her off.

GRIFFIN SCANNED
the great hall one final time, pleased with what he saw.

The chamber hadn’t looked this good since the ball he’d thrown last year in hopes of wrangling a husband for Alexandra. The enormous Gobelin tapestries on either end of the hall had been cleaned and rehung, their vibrant colors defying their age. Beneath the old hammerbeam roof, the ancient planked floor gleamed with polish. Servants were busy lighting the torches mounted between each of the arched stained-glass windows, and soon the huge chamber would be ablaze with light. Up in the minstrel’s gallery, the musicians were tuning their instruments.

In a matter of minutes, the hall would be filled with music and dancing, laughter and glittering guests. He hoped it would be a night Juliana would remember forever. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his sisters happy.

Thank goodness he had only one more left to marry off.

“Griffin,” came a nearby voice. A low, sultry voice.

He turned to see its owner, finding her standing there in a red dress that skimmed her every curve. Most of her hair was done up in a sophisticated style, leaving just a few loose chestnut tendrils to fall in soft waves around her face. She even
smelled
good. A heady, floral scent wafted toward him, making him take an uneasy step back.

Since she’d sidestepped his offer of help last month, he hadn’t seen her. Juliana hadn’t hosted any more sewing parties, and he hadn’t attended any more balls. He’d been wrapped up in the business of Parliament, followed by some mild problems here on the estate. All the accursed responsibilities he’d found thrust on him along with the unwanted title had kept him too busy for any socializing.

Which had been fine by him. He hadn’t clenched his teeth in five whole weeks.

“What do you want, Rachael?”

She blinked, no doubt taken aback by his unintended harshness. But she recovered her composure quickly. “If your offer is still open, then yes, I’d like your help going through my mother’s things.”

He smiled, softening. “Before Christmas?”

She drew a deep breath and nodded. “How about next week?”