Authors: Tessa Berkley
“Mine?” Juliet’s eyes widened.
“I misled you when I first conceived this marriage.”
“And I am supposed to be surprised?”
His mouth twisted into a roguish grin. “I must do better about concealing my motives.”
They continued on, their footsteps muffled by the grass. Beneath the shade of a willow, he paused and turned taking both of her hands in his. “I assure you, had I known of your ability to shoulder all that London could heap upon your plate, I would have been more forthcoming.”
“I take it there are reasons for your actions?”
“There are.” Letting her hands go, he gazed over her shoulder.
Turning, she could see Alexander down on his hands and knees eagerly digging in the ground.
“Alexander was the product of my wayward youth.”
“Do not blame your son, Landon.”
His brow furrowed. “Oh, I do not. If anything, he is the bright side of it all.”
“Then tell me, tell me about his mother and what haunts you so?” she begged.
He took a breath and they walked on in silence. Juliet said nothing, giving her husband time to organize his thoughts.
“She was beautiful. The daughter of a baron who lived near my father’s ancestral home. Beechwell.”
“The place you keep your racing stock?”
He nodded. “Back then it was a place father took me hunting. She was a few years older than me and her father had ideas for her to move up in society. We began socializing. She was charming, flirtatious, what any man wanted on his arm. She made it so easy to bend to pressure.”
“Your pressure?” Juliet asked.
“No.” Lord Montague looked down at the ground. “I was nothing more than an end to a means. Theodosia’s brother filled her head with how easy it would be to snare the son of a count. Like your father, mine enjoyed his cups and when he went to bed, our conversations turned lusty.”
Juliet placed her other hand on his arm. “You were young and foolish.”
“Yes, that goes without speaking.”
“Landon, you don’t have to say anymore.”
“No, I think I do. I think it is time now to let others in on what happened. Besides, if I do not tell the truth, then you cannot make an informed decision on the grand question that I will ask of you next.”
“I see. Then, please, continue.”
He swallowed and it was easy to see how his soul was still tortured over the events that transpired.
“She came to me that night and every night thereafter. I ignored the possibilities, too dumb to the real workings of a woman’s body. I lavished my carnal pleasures and took what she so freely gave, never giving thought to what might happen, or to making an honest woman of her. When we left, I thought nothing of it, except that I had become a man of the world.”
“But it didn’t stop there?”
He shook his head. “No, we saw each other at parties, but there wasn’t time for tryst. Stolen kisses by fountains were all we could manage. Then a few months later, she and her father arrived at our door. Father showed them in and he announced she was with child. My parents were of course incensed. I was angry myself not for what she had done, but for what I had allowed to happen.”
“I can only imagine,” Juliet whispered. “But you cannot accept all the blame.”
“I am a Montague. I should have had more control over passion. I wanted to marry her over my father’s objections. It seemed the right thing to do.” Landon’s hand covered hers. “I thought myself in love with her. I think it was foolish youth. I had no idea that her father would use her body in order to gain favors in my father’s business. As it was, I was sent away with the countess to Scotland. My father refused the baron’s threats to expose the affair. The baron and his lawyers broke the news first. They coined that horrid moniker….”
“Lord Heartless.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Landon, I am so sorry. I was under the impression that the name came from the women you cast off in search of dalliances.”
He held up a hand. “There is a bitter irony that ends this tale. When Alexander was born, her father brought him to the house and refused to take him back. My father would not let our family be blackmailed into marriage. We were at an impasse.
“Did you offer to marry her?”
“I did, and my father cut me off from the family’s money in response. Once her father found out I was no longer rich, he refused my offer of marriage for his daughter, and instead, he demanded payment in recompense.”
“Greed is an awful tyrant.” Juliet sighed.
“It is. My father paid a great deal for Alexander’s safety and it aged him. Her father took the money and bought Theodosia and her brother passage on a ship bound for America for he wanted no more to do with her and hoped it would give her a new start.”
“She never saw Alexander again? Has she written?” Juliet’s anger grew. “Oh, Landon, does she know what a fine boy he is?”
Her husband shook his head. “Just east of the coast of Africa, there was a storm. The ship foundered, broke apart.”
Juliet’s hand went to her lips. “No, Landon, no.”
He hung his head. “No one was left alive.”
“Oh, my darling, I am so sorry. But no one can blame you for a ship sinking.”
He looked up at her. She could read the wounded soul that lay beneath. “It was a Montague ship. Many in the Ton thought that I had arranged her passage. The countess and my father were stunned. The countess was shunned from society for many years. Father busied himself with antiquities and you know the rest. I embraced my namesake by seducing the cast-off wives of London society.”
“Lady Scarborough?”
“The last.” He paused and turned to face her. Reaching out, his hands took hers. “You are the only one I see from this day forth, milady. Let us forgo this pretense of convenience and make our marriage real.”
Juliet watched as his eyes searched hers, hoping the windows of her soul would open and reveal the words she knew he wanted so to hear.
“Please my love, let me come to you tonight and show you the pleasure of what a marriage bed has to offer.”
Juliet bit her lip. “Is the promise of affection, all that you can offer, Your Grace?”
“I can offer you my wounded heart in hopes that a you can heal the emptiness that lies within.”
Juliet’s brow pulled and knotted. If only he would say the words instead of holding out the promise of them, for she knew how easily the word promise could be broken. “I need to think,” she began. “I do not wish to be rushed into something we both might regret.”
“I have frightened you by telling you the truth.” Landon turned away.
“No.” She reached for his arm. “I just need time to think.”
“Father! Father!”
They turned to see Alexander rushing forward.
“Look what I have found.” Sliding on the damp grass to a halt, he opened his fingers and there on his palm lay a gold coin. “It must be centuries old,” he gushed. “Look at the Latin writing and the picture of Julius Caesar.”
“Where did you find this?” Landon asked, kneeling.
“By the pond. Can I keep it?”
“Most assuredly. When we get back in, you can use the books in my library to research it.”
“And I shall tell you all about it tonight.” He grinned brightly.
“No, Lady Montague and I are due at the opera with the countess this evening, but tomorrow morning, we shall be back and we can talk then.”
“Yes, Father, that will be wonderful.”
“Come, Cook has made some fine sandwiches.”
Looping his arms around his son shoulders, Landon led Alexander away, followed by Juliet in deep, heavy thoughts.
***
Juliet marveled at the woman staring back at her from the large mirror in the corner of her room. The pale mint gown fit her figure like a glove. Madame Beatrice had excelled with her needle. The sweetheart neckline with its gathered tulle and crystals caught the light with every turn of her body. Helen had taken meticulous care with her hair pulling from the center, looping it back to form a cascade of long curls that extended from a silver comb to brush the bare skin of her shoulders.
“You look beautiful, milady,” Helen said, breaking the spell.
She glanced at her maid. “Thank you.”
“It is a pleasure.” Helen stepped over to the dresser and pulled a long thin box from the top. “The countess sent this over to you.” She carried it to where Juliet stood.
Dampening her lips, Juliet lifted the lid and smoothed back the paper. Beneath lay a pair of long, elegant, white gloves. Her eyes widened. With trembling fingers, she pulled the gloves from the box and held them aloft against the light to inspect the excellent handiwork. “They are beautiful,” she said. Then, without further urging, she slipped the cloth onto her arms. Helen produced a buttonhook and closed pearl buttons at the wrist. She was still staring at the gloves when her maid spoke.
“Milady?”
Juliet turned and watched as she held the matching shawl. Turning her body, she waited while the material was draped over her shoulders.
“Enjoy your evening, milady.”
“And you yours,” she replied as she moved into the hallway. Her heart increased its beat with her growing anticipation. After Alexander had located the coin, she’d had no time to ponder the answer to the question posed by Landon earlier in the day. Could she accept him in her bed?
However, with each step, the confidence in her heart grew. She knew the answer. Poised at the top of the stairs, she looked down at the man waiting for her below.
Lord Montague leaned against the banister, his arms folded loosely across his chest. Dressed in dark tales and a fine white shirt, he looked every inch of the man that made women swoon. A pang of want slammed so hard into her middle, and had she not had hold of the railing, she might have fallen to her knees. Her husband, the light of her life, the man she’d come to know was a loving father, gentle and kind. Not at all the randy rake so many stories were spoken about. Tears threatened as she took that first tentative step toward her life’s fulfillment.
The whisper of the silk alerted him. He looked up and she watched the slow recognition dissolve into utter delight. Beaming, his gaze followed her descent until she stopped one step above him so they might be eye to eye. His eyes locked on hers and he whispered, “You look beautiful.” His hand reached for hers and he brought it to his lips before stepping beside her and leading her into the drawing room.
Simmons had every light lit. The countess’s tiara, encrusted with diamonds and pearls, shimmered in her snow-white hair.
“Oh, my dear, you are enchanting.”
“Thank you, Your Grace, for the gloves.”
The countess smiled. “Just a small gift to complete your outfit. I say, Madame Beatrice was correct. That color does you justice.”
Juliet turned her head as her husband cleared his throat.
“I have one last gift.”
A necklace dangled from his hands. Her eyes widened as she gazed at the teardrop pearl held to the silver chain by several small aquamarine stones.
“Your necklace, my darling Juliet.”
“A perfect choice.” The countess nodded. “A pearl for a pearl.”
She stood in awe as Landon placed the jewels around her neck. The stone hung cool against her skin as he fixed the clasp beneath the curls. Juliet could scarcely breathe.
“There.”
She took her hand away and let if fall to the perfect position just above the cleft between her breasts.
“You are exquisite,” Landon murmured in her ear. He reached for his gloves, then extended his arm for her to grasp as they followed the countess to the front door.
***
Sitting inside the carriage, watching the houses of London pass by, Juliet understood what it must be like to be a princess. In her wildest dreams back at Holly Grove she could never have imagined such splendor. Drawing her glance from the window, she found her husband’s eyes upon her. Unabashed, she stared back.
A weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders, for tonight the crease in his brow had disappeared. Was the unburdening of his soul that afternoon responsible? Whatever the reason, the only thing that mattered was his happiness.
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No need for nervousness when I have you and the countess beside me.”
At her words, his mother reached for her arm and gave a squeeze. “You will win them over with a smile. I dare say, Landon, you will be the envy of every man tonight.”
“Let them dream, for I will have the star of heaven on my arm.”
A rush of warmth rose up her neck to heat her cheeks. “You flatter me,” she said softly as the carriage slowed to a halt.
“Heavens, there seems to be a crowd tonight,” the countess said as the coachman opened the door and flipped down the steps.
Landon bent to exit. “I shall see you on the other side.” With that, he disappeared into the night.
“Now, take your time, my dear, do not rush and tear that gown.”
“Yes, Countess.”
Landon’s hand appeared and the countess took hold. With a slight grunt she rose and gently placed her foot upon the first step. Once she had descended from the carriage, Juliet eased down the seat and took a settling breath. Her time had come. Once she left the carriage she would say good-bye to the country girl and embrace her new life. The white glove appeared. She placed her hand in his and took the leap of faith.
Outside, the shouts of street vendors hawking flowers ebbed away to be replaced by the hiss of the gas lights emblazoning the night as she straightened the skirt of her gown. The stares of a thousand unseen eyes fell upon her shoulders. She looked up and caught the countess’s wink.
“Ready?” Landon asked.
“Yes.” She took his hand and they moved to the steps of the opera house.
Looking into the open doors, she could see the flash of elegant gowns of every hue and the dazzle of jewels that caught the light. Eyes filled with wonder, they moved inside to the curious stares of those gathered in the wide-open entrance way.
“Ah, Countess Montague.” A distinguished gentleman stepped forward. “So good of you to join us this night.”
“Lord Scarborough,” the countess dipped her chin. “You were nice enough to ask. How is your wife?” she questioned, looking around.