Lord Barry's Dream House (11 page)

Juliana touched her lips with her fingers, then turned away from him.

“I will leave you now if you wish.”

“No, no,” she said, her voice muffled. She turned slightly, to look back at him over her shoulder. “I did not expect that.”

“Nor did I,” he responded truthfully—not but what he hadn’t desired this for what seemed like an age.

“This must not happen again,” she said, recalling his quote about the architect who would not enter the finished house. “We are like patron and architect, or in my case, patron and the one who concludes this project. I would not presume to classify myself as an architect, for although I have trained with my father, I did not study abroad.”

She turned away again, composing herself. Footsteps echoed in the hall, and Lord Barry moved to another window, placing a greater distance between them.

“The smell seems to be dissipating,” Henry declared upon joining them in the bedroom. “I cannot help wondering who would do such a thing.” If he noticed a constraint between Lord Barry and Juliana, he gave no evidence of it.

“The old toad, of course. Or ought I say a rat, for I certainly smelled one,” Juliana concluded.

“You have not one shred of proof,” Lord Barry reminded her.

“It is the sort of petty, disgusting thing he would do. How good it is that Peregrine is not the least like his father.” Juliana turned away from the window, then walked to Henry’s side. “I expect we had better go back downstairs and discuss those carpetings. Will you come, my lord?”

He had to admire her calm, her amazing resolution. The thought occurred to him that Lady Rosamund or Lady Barbara would have had the vapors at the very least if he had taken such liberties with one of them. He was glad it had been Juliana, for a good number of reasons.

The horrid aroma that had flowed through the house had now faded. He wondered if that fragile bond that had been reached for so brief a time was also fading into the mist.

She led the way to the ground floor, and once in the little room that had been used for their work, she produced the pattern books.

“I suppose,” he mused after paging through the first book, “that I had not realized there was such a profusion of designs. I believe I should like to see them firsthand before deciding on them.”

Wordlessly, Juliana handed him another pattern book, this containing designs for mosaic flooring. He found it interesting, if one liked things that appeared to have come straight from Pompeii.

“Perhaps you would like to have the
SALVE
one in your entry, that is, if you welcome one and all to the house.”

Whatever did she mean by that remark, he wondered. “Of course I should. I cannot think who would be unwelcome in my home—other than the villain of the piece, naturally.”

Juliana smiled and wondered if he considered her a villain—for he had no opinion of architects, it seemed.

“The
SALVE
it is, then,” Henry declared. He made notes on that pad he carried about with him, his pencil scurrying over the paper with great speed.

Juliana unrolled a set of floor plans, spreading it out on the table before them. “How about a fitted carpet in the drawing room, perhaps one with a border? And in the dining room, I should think a deal floor, or should you prefer one of the new carpets with a lovely woven design in it? You ought to be able to have a table that will seat at least twenty-eight with not the least trouble. Either a wooden floor or one of those patterned
carpets would present little problem beneath a table—although it is a trifle easier to clean a wooden floor. Should someone spill wine on the carpet, it is difficult to remove,” she mused.

“Wooden flooring, by all means. But deal, not oak?”

Juliana repressed a smile. “You have frequently questioned costs, my lord. Oak is ruinously expensive. I planned to change all floors from oak to deal.”

“I see. I shall have to think about that.”

“It is past time to order the wood, my lord,” Henry said with an impatient look at Juliana, as though questioning her including his lordship in such discussion. He ran his fingers through his unruly sandy hair.

“After all, Henry”—Juliana sought to give her assistant a reminder of what she had heard before—“Lord Barry is to live in this house, not to mention pay the bills. I believe it only right and just he be involved in all the details of finishing.” She bestowed a sharp look on her old friend and cousin.

She could see the words sinking in. After a moment Henry looked at Lord Barry and smiled a trifle ruefully. “She is correct, of course. How could I have been so remiss as to not think of this myself?”

His lordship nodded most gallantly in reply, then gave a thoughtful look off into the distance before making an observation that shook Juliana to her toes.

“I want to travel down to London to explore the warehouses for myself. There is nothing like seeing the color for the carpet and comparing fabrics for the furnishings. I would have harmony, and no clashing as I have seen in a few homes.”

“You would not go alone on this mission, surely?” Juliana queried, aghast at the possibilities that flooded her mind at the mere notion of a man let loose in a warehouse without someone to guide him in his purchases.

He gave her a bland look, only for a few moments revealing a hint of a gleam in his eyes. “Of course not. I would that you come with me. At my expense, of course. I believe we ought to allow several weeks for the trip, although I know we can drive to London in a day.”

“I see,” was the most of a reply that Juliana could manage. He desired her to travel with him to London? Alone? Heaven help her, she would go in a minute!

“It is growing late,” Henry reminded with a look at his pocket watch. “If Juliana is to prepare for the ball, she had best return to Beechwood presently.” If Henry had any opinions regarding the propriety of Juliana haring off to London with Lord Barry, he gave not the least indication.

“I would like to know if the parcel arrived from London,” she murmured to her cousin. She gathered the pattern books together, stacking them neatly in a pile.

Edmund heard that little comment and vowed that when he whirled Juliana off to London, there would be several visits to a top mantuamaker included. He was highly incensed with Lady Hamilton, that she could so ignore the needs of her eldest daughter to concentrate on the one who, as Juliana had put it, paid for dressing merely because of great beauty.

Within short order they had left the construction behind them and were headed in the direction of Beechwood Hall. Impatient to learn her fate for the evening, Juliana dashed ahead of the others, hurrying into the house.

Dalston met her in the entry hall, a faint smile crossing his face as he caught sight of her.

“They came!” she whispered, for she so wished to surprise her mother and Barbara.

“Indeed, Lady Juliana. I had the parcel taken to your room. I believe Lady Katherine awaits you there.”

Not pausing for an instant, regardless of any seeming lack of courtesy to Lord Barry, Juliana rushed up the stairs and along to her room with all dispatch.

Kitty sat on the window seat as smug as a cat with a fat mouse beneath its paws. “They are here! I fear we need not attend in our shifts. I hope this does not disappoint you?”

“Silly girl.” Juliana undid the parcel with trembling hands. “However could you wait for me?”

“Well, they arrived but a short time ago, and had I to wait much longer, the parcel would not have remained wrapped.”

A gown of shimmering rose, enhanced with a white gauze overlay and trimmed with silver rosettes, was the first to come to view. Then Juliana shook out a pretty delicate blue gown in the finest muslin imaginable from its folds.

“I vow, I cannot decide which is the prettiest,” Kitty declared with great reverence.

“We shall bloom this evening, dearest sister. Do you think that Mama will notice?” There was no hint of bitterness in Juliana’s voice, just acceptance of their lot.

“Maybe not, but I fancy Barbara will. Most definitely Lady Rosamund, for you will be wearing rose, and she thinks that is her color exclusively.” Kitty giggled at the notion of what Lady Rosamund’s face would look like at the sight of Juliana in her London elegance.

The gowns were immediately tried on and needed only minor alterations, which Kitty insisted she could do, as she was far better with a needle and thread than Juliana. The maid they shared would press the gowns.

The afternoon wore on with the usual bustle before a large gathering. Juliana and Kitty kept out of their mother’s way as much as possible. Barbara gave a delighted description of the gown the local dressmaker had created for her. Kitty giggled, but didn’t spill the news.

At last the hour arrived when the girls donned their pretty gowns. They fixed one another’s hair, entwining silk rosebuds in Juliana’s dark hair and silk forget-me-nots through Kitty’s golden locks.

Juliana touched the dainty strand of pearls at her neck and gave her sister a wistful look. “I would that Papa had given you your pearls.”

“Never mind. I sewed a riband with hooks and eyes and will attach this cameo pin to it.” She followed suit and Juliana shook her head in admiration.

“We are as fine as fivepence. Shall we go belowstairs?” She put out her hand to her sister.

“Oh, let’s do,” Kitty replied with another of her infectious giggles.

They both felt self-conscious while descending the stairs to the main floor of the house. Exchanging frequent looks, they joined their mother and Barbara in what would be the receiving line. Uncle George ran down the stairs behind them, giving Juliana a pat on her shoulder.

“You both look exceedingly well. I see the parcel arrived I on time,” he whispered and gave his dear sister a smug look.

Juliana grinned at him. “I vow everyone around but Mama and Barbara knew about it.” She glanced at her mother, then surreptitiously spun about so he might have full appreciation of the gown.

Then Lord Barry descended the stairs, and Juliana looked at him in mild alarm. What would he think? Might he consider her a vain creature, wanting a lovely gown so much that she would go over her mother’s head to order one herself?

“Lady Hamilton, I find myself overwhelmed by the beauty before me and the evening has yet to begin,” he exclaimed, bowing correctly before his hostess before turning to admire Barbara.

Lady Hamilton preened slightly at the gentle compliment and beamed a smile of approval at her guest, then at her middle daughter, who—it must be confessed—did pay for dressing.

Juliana exchanged a look with Kitty, a wry one, for she truly had hoped for more, yet knew she ought not.

The other guests began arriving at that point. Juliana and Kitty found themselves marshaled by Uncle George into the receiving line. It earned a vexed but resigned look from their mother. She paused a moment, staring at the two girls with a faintly puzzled look, then had her attention claimed by Lady Plunket, who had just entered.

The ball was given in Lord Barry’s honor, requiring him to remain in line, greeting his new neighbors with curiosity and politeness that must charm all.

“Here comes the odious toad,” Juliana murmured.

“And Peregrine with him,” Kitty whispered back.

When the tall and gentle Peregrine came to where Kitty stood last in the line, he held her hand, casting an appraising look at her glory.

“Well, sir?” she said pertly.

“You will do admirably, sprite,” he said clearly, winking at her with surprising charm.

“Oh, my,” Kitty whispered to Juliana when he had moved on. “I believe he actually saw me.”

Which was more than Lord Barry had done of her, Juliana thought gloomily. The evening did not begin with great promise—at least for her.

Chapter
Ten

All
went as it ought until Rosamund came into the entry.
L
ady Hamilton greeted her with polite charm. The Titchfields deigned to speak to Lady Hamilton, but were far more effusive when greeting Lord Barry. Lady Titchfield boomed her greeting with ardent fervor. It would seem that while his title was no more than viscount, they had developed an appreciation for his wealth.

Rosamund smiled serenely at Barbara. And she in turn preened a little, quite obviously believing her gown to be superior to Rosamund’s confection in rose sarcenet.

It was then that Rosamund cast her gaze upon Juliana and Kitty where they stood to the far side of Uncle George.

In a way, Kitty said to Juliana some time later, it was really more like a mouse squeak than a cry of outrage. But whatever it was, it was clear that Rosamund was not best pleased when she saw the pair, prettily gowned and looking fine as fivepence, as Juliana had declared.

“Good evening, Lady Rosamund,” Juliana said to the younger girl, who had turned an unappealing shade of blotchy pink.

“Wherever did you find those gowns?” she hissed in a reply that was louder than it ought to have been, given the circumstances and somewhat like a rather minor explosion.

“From London,” Kitty said happily. “I am quite delighted with mine. Pale blue has always been a favorite color.”

Rosamund ignored Kitty, concentrating on Juliana. “How
dare
you wear my shade of rose?” she demanded, apparently unaware she was making a cake of herself, fortunately to very few. She failed to take note of Peregrine’s presence.

“
Your
shade?” Juliana queried, finding herself extremely annoyed at the presumptuous vanity of this pampered young lady. “I am unaware of an edict passed to that effect. I saw this design, liked it, found the color pleased me, and ordered it from a mantuamaker we know in London. Uncle George thinks it charming. But I must say, the local woman does wonders, all things considered.” She gave Lady Rosamund a level stare that would have put any other woman into a taking. Never again would Juliana permit this very snobbish and spoiled girl to treat her and Kitty less than they deserved.

Peregrine had been standing behind Lady Rosamund, waiting to speak with his paragon. Upon hearing this interchange—for he was close enough to overhear it—he frowned and left the entry without speaking to anyone, least of all, to Lady Rosamund.

Lady Rosamund sniffed and pranced away to join the others in the drawing room.

Kitty and Juliana exchanged eloquent looks.

“Perhaps
...” Juliana
mouthed, then smiled wisely with a raise of her brows, for she suspected that Kitty would not hear a word she said if spoken in muted tones given the amount of background noise.

Lady Titchfield gave Juliana a narrow look through her quizzing glass, then said, “London, did you say? Second-rate, if you ask me.”

“But then, no one did, did they?” Juliana replied sweetly, figuring that she was doomed to a scold so she might as well say what she wished to her prosy ladyship.

The press of newcomers prevented additional comments. Her ladyship went off to soothe her daughter’s wounded sensibilities, muttering words about young women who were overstepping their places.

There was a pause in the flow of guests, and Juliana found her dear mother marching up the line to look at her.

“Those gowns!” She gave an appraising look that did not so much as miss a well-sewn thread. “When? How?” Then she caught sight of Lord Barry’s watching eyes and concluded, “We shall speak about this matter later.”

“Yes, Mother,” Juliana said, then reached out to give Kitty’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Minutes later, Peregrine again presented himself to Kitty and smiled in a most encouraging manner. “I would like to have a dance if you have one left to spare.”

Since Kitty was rendered speechless by the incredible happening—so like her wish—Juliana had to give her a sharp nudge, saying, “Kitty would be delighted, I feel sure. Kitty, why do you not show Mr. Forsythe the new plant in the conservatory until it is time for the dancing to begin?”

Still in a daze, Kitty went along with Peregrine. Juliana hoped that he would be able to make Kitty feel comfortable. His altered sentiments were not really a surprise. He was far too intelligent to be taken in by Lady Rosamund for long. But how lovely that it happened this evening, so Kitty could enjoy her first ball.

Lady Rosamund had not endeared herself to one of her adoring admirers. In fact, Rosamund may have terminated that particular source of admiration permanently. Juliana smiled, feeling rather like a hen whose chick has outshown all others.

With nearly all invited guests present, Lady Hamilton swept off with Lord Barry on one side of her and Barbara on the other. The ball would begin with Lord Barry leading out the most beautiful and worthy daughter of the house.

Juliana decided to follow, wondering what the very traditional and orthodox Lord Barry would do now.

“I wish you to lead out the first dance, Lord Barry,” Lady Hamilton said graciously with a pointed glance at Barbara.

“With the daughter of the house, naturally,” he replied smoothly. “Although, if I were to suggest the most lovely lady, it would have to be you, Lady Hamilton.” He bowed again, while her ladyship preened slightly at this unexpected and charming bit of flattery.

Barbara stood in her pretty gown, bright eyes expectant, waiting. Her blond curls had been pulled to the top of her head, cascading in a pretty array to one side. The gown she wore was pretty as well—quite suitable for a miss of eighteen about to make a come-out in London. Delicate white muslin with rows of tucks and tiers of white lace with dainty rosebuds nestled here and there flattered her slender figure nicely.

His lordship, however, turned slightly to find Juliana standing sedately behind her mother. He smiled at her, the look bordering on intimate, for they had exchanged so much this day. “Lady Juliana, your mother has requested that I lead out the first dance with you. Shall we?”

Without looking at Barbara—whom she suspected would be ready to throw a tantrum—or her mother—who would be astounded that anyone should choose Juliana over Barbara, regardless of what was proper—Juliana accepted his hand and proceeded to the center of the room.

The musicians had been playing quietly—a minuet if she was not mistaken. When they saw the couple obviously waiting for them to begin, they did so immediately, without waiting for Lady Hamilton’s signal.

Juliana had not been mistaken. The very traditional Lord Barry would not dream of overlooking the eldest daughter when leading out the first dance. It would have been against his sense of what was proper. The lovely part of it was that her mother really could not say a thing, for Lord Barry was correct. Barbara might have a second dance, take a second partner to enter, but it was Juliana’s right to be with Lord Barry since Lady Hamilton did not dance. And heaven help her, Juliana was not yielding to her indulged sister this time. And, she thought as she accepted his hand in the pattern of the dance, she did not intend to do so ever again. Tonight marked the beginning of a number of changes in her life.

“I see Lady Katherine has acquired Peregrine Forsythe for a partner.” He glanced over to where Kitty held Peregrine’s hand in a delighted haze.

“Indeed. He usually dangles after Lady Rosamund,” Juliana murmured when she drew close enough so her words would not be overheard by others.

“I seem to sense a few undercurrents about this evening.” He glanced at Lady Hamilton, who was deep in an agitated conversation with Lady Titchfield. Then he looked at Juliana and smiled. “May I compliment you on that lovely gown you ordered. It equals anything I saw while in London. I am relieved and very pleased the parcel arrived in time. It would have been a shame for you to appear in anything less fashionable.”

“That is a most handsome compliment, sir. I will admit I was pleased as well. The gowns certainly exceeded our expectations.” Juliana twirled about in the pattern of the dance, advancing and retreating with utmost grace. That her mother failed to provide gowns suddenly ceased to vex her.

“It is not only the gown; it is the lovely and gracious lady in that gown.” His eyes held that gleam she was coming to recognize. It appeared when he was pleased about something.

“There is an odor of nonsense about that, sir,” Juliana said with a twinkle in her fine eyes, almost gray-green in the delicate light of the candles. A wayward curl tickled her neck, and she wished she might brush it away, but he firmly clasped her one hand, while her other hand clutched her fan, a slender confection of ivory and parchment.

“Fragrance, please!” he riposted.

“Absurd man,” she quietly replied, gracefully dipping a curtsy at the conclusion of the dance. She glanced over to see an incensed sister Barbara and a mother who looked as though she could cheerfully scold Juliana clear into next Tuesday and said, “Would you be so kind as to deposit me by Kitty? She may need me, what with the crush of people. It is difficult for her to hear, especially in such noise.”

“How severe is her hearing loss?” Lord Barry asked, having looked in the same direction and reached the identical conclusion. He skillfully guided Juliana along to where her youngest sister stood by young Forsythe.

“It is most peculiar. There are times when Kitty can hear well enough. Other times, as in crowds, she hears only a part of a word. She does not hear the consonants and, I fear, makes amusing mistakes.”

“And you worry about her,” he stated, giving Juliana a warm look.

“Well, that is what a sister is for, to worry about and care about, and help if possible. She is the dearest girl imaginable, and I would do most anything for her.”

Lord Barry looked across the room to where Barbara and Lady Hamilton stood in polite discussion. “Indeed?”

“May I suggest it would be a kindness were you to seek Barbara’s hand for the next dance,” Juliana whispered.

“If you insist,” he said. “Although it smells of a plot.”

“A rose by any other name,” Juliana said, then covered her mouth lest she begin giggling.

“I shall spend the next minutes trying to think of something to top that,” he promised before bowing most correctly, then crossing the room to seek Barbara’s hand.

Rather than watch that painful exercise, Juliana searched the room for Henry. She had not seen him while in the receiving line, but as a member of the family he was free to enter from the rear of the house and quietly merge into the assembled guests without a fuss.

Kitty and Peregrine drew closer to where she stood. Peregrine said, “You hope to find someone in this crush?”

“Are you in a hurry?” Kitty asked, a confused look on her face.

“Crush, not rush,” Juliana said distinctly. “I was searching for Henry. Have you seen him?”

“No, come to think on it,” Kitty replied, looking about her as she spoke.

“Perhaps he was detained?” Peregrine said.

“What have we here?” Lady Rosamund said, glancing about the group when she abruptly appeared at their sides. “Everyone looks far too serious for a ball.” She gave Peregrine an expectant look that turned into a frown when he remained standing close to Kitty and gave Rosamund the merest nod.

“Nothing much.” Juliana knew that as a daughter of the house she must be polite to a guest. Not that she would have said anything nasty to Lady Rosamund. But she might have ignored her. How lovely it would be to give the cut direct to that spoiled girl.

Then Juliana relented, her own sweet nature forbidding such disgraceful behavior. “We were merely chatting. I trust you have a surfeit of partners, as usual?”

“Of course. I must say, your London gowns are quite plain—for London. Did your mother order them?”

“But Lady Rosamund,” Peregrine said, “have you not seen that the latest in fashion are truly plain? It is far more elegant than the overly elaborate. The simple, pure lines are most flattering to young ladies. At least, most young ladies.” He did not, to his credit, give her flounced and lace-bedecked gown that made her look just a trifle plump a glance when he spoke. “I think Kitty looks lovely in that blue dress she’s wearing.” He spoke directly to Kitty, so missed the flash of anger that crossed Lady Rosamund’s beautiful face.

Rosamund was in a miff. No duke or marquess, not even an eligible earl attended; three viscounts and four barons were the best to be found. She turned to the nearest of her court and smiled in a beckoning manner. Within moments, she drifted off across the room on Algernon Plunket’s arm.

“Well, this is a jolly group,” Uncle George exclaimed as he joined the three. “Did someone pop off when I was not looking?”

“Have you been keeping an eye on
...
” Juliana almost said the toad, but realized in time that it would be a horrible error, what with Peregrine standing right there. Instead, she lamely chose another word—“things?”

No slow top, George merely looked knowing and said, “Indeed. Your mother depends on me to see that all goes well. Although what I would do if things went amiss, I confess I do not know.”

“Be a tower of strength,” Juliana replied promptly.

The conversation was abruptly terminated when Sir Phineas strolled over to join them.

Juliana longed to flee and escape his odious presence, but good manners prevented her from doing as she pleased.

“Good evening, one and all. I trust you are enjoying your little ball, my dear ladies?” He looked at Juliana, then at Kitty with that oily smile of his that was falser than promises made while tipsy. Juliana was saved from any sort of reply when Lord Barry appeared at her side. “I come to claim my second dance,” he said with his customary smoothness.

Peregrine swept Kitty away, leaving Sir Phineas to jaw with George.

“You are a knight-errant this evening?” Juliana said softly to her partner.

“Did you need rescuing? I am sorry, I can but say that I wished to dance with you, not rescue.” He twirled her about as they proceeded down the line of the country dance.

This explanation pleased Juliana enormously; she could not help the smile that spread across her face. When he was not complaining about the house under construction, Lord Barry was vastly delightful.

When she came close to him again, she looked back at Sir Phineas and said, “I was in a difficult position, not wishing to remain, yet unable to walk away. There’s small choice in rotten apples, you know,” resorting to one of Uncle George’s many quotes.

“Ah, that reminds me. I was going to tell you that comparisons are odious.” His face remained impassive, but his eyes gleamed for a moment when he looked down at her.