Lord Love a Duke (24 page)

“
You
love
Jonas? Bugger it all, Jules,
when
did this happen?
How
did this happen? I know you have spent more time together of
late, but to
love
him?! I am half
astonishment and half appalled . . . yet also half amused and half
delighted! To think this party started with our larks against my
brother while you secretly held a
tendre
for him. Whyever did you go along with my schemes? Oh – lo
and behold! We shall be sisters in truth now, not just in deed. You
must tell him the truth and not hold him to this week of wooing. No
– wait! Bugger that and make him work this week. It will do him no
small amount of good to earn his good fortune rather than have it
fall so conveniently in his lap.” Miranda stopped for a brief
breath as her countenance fell. “But I still do not understand why
you do not wish to marry him if you in fact do love him. Why will
you strive to turn his mind from matrimony?”

Juliet opened her mouth to respond but could
not find the words. She glanced at her aunt and uttered a hasty
“please excuse me” before she rose and exited swiftly from the
room. Miranda made to pursue her friend but was stayed by Lady
Ashford's hand on her arm. Juliet's aunt leaned over, brushing a
wisp of hair from across Miranda's brow and tucking it behind her
ear.

“Dear Miranda, let her go. She is confused
at the moment, and confusion is not a common feeling for my niece.”
She patted her hand on Miranda's arm. “And I must confess, I
followed only every third word that fell from your mouth with your
speedy verbal onslaught just now. But no matter; let me answer your
final question, which I did manage to understand. Juliet wants a
happy marriage, one of like-mindedness and alignment of goals from
the outset. She feels that your brother was forced to offer for her
and therefore his motivations and actions are now suspect. I have a
plan, however, and need your help. In fact, I need the help of all
the ladies of your group.”

Miranda's face brightened and she focused
her attention on the Countess. “I can gather them all together
shortly after we break our fast. Where shall we meet?”

“My room, dear. I can keep out the
busybodies and keep in those I need.” She looked out the sun-filled
window in deep contemplation for a few moments. “Be sure to include
that useless Viscount's sister, Lady Margaret. I am sure she needs
a friend and a focus, and we can offer both to her. She seems a
nice young lady in spite of her unfortunate relation. Now, off you
go, my dear. I shall see you after we dine.”

“Oomph,” Juliet whooshed as she ran into the
solid wall of the Duke. His arms came around her immediately as he
steadied her from their collision.

“Just the lady I was coming to collect. Are
you ready -” Jonas began only to stop when he saw the look of
distress on her face. “What ails you?” he queried.

Juliet's flight from her aunt and friend
only led to her capture by the Duke. She took a deep breath and
forced her eyes to meet his gaze. “Nothing is amiss, I merely
needed to escape the conversation of that room.”

Jonas glanced around before grabbing Juliet
by the elbow and ushering her to a darkened alcove further down the
hall. He shielded her presence from the open hall, grasping her
face gently between his large hands. “You are overset. I see tears
in your eyes, Juliet. Tell me at once what is the matter,” he
demanded.

Her eyes searched his face, noting the
severity of his expression and his focus on her well-being. She
felt herself calming as she acknowledged his obvious care. “I swear
I am well, Your Grace. My aunt and Miranda were rather pointed in
their words to me. After all the events of this morning, I just
found myself unable to sit still a moment longer. I suddenly felt
the need to be outdoors.”

Jonas dragged his thumb across her cheek as
he continued to solemnly study her face. “I can quite understand
that feeling, as I have just spent time in my study with both your
father and youngest brother. Although it is barely mid-morning, I
feel as if the day should be near its end.” His right brow quirked
up suddenly. “I have just noticed you using my title again,
my
lady
. Were you not disabused of this notion
earlier?”

Juliet gave a short laugh
and reached to take Jonas' hands from her face, lowering them to
clasp in between them. “You must give me time to adjust my
speech,
good sir
,” she intoned,
“t'will be hard to undo so many years of instruction on address.”
She smiled impishly, her distressed mood ebbing as they
teased.

Jonas smiled in return, dimples flashing. “I
shall think of some way to make it more memorable in your mind
then.” He paused as a noise traveled towards them from down the
hall. “But now I think we must adjourn to the dining room. We have
an announcement to make.” Jonas pulled her from the alcove, placing
her hand within the crook of his arm as he began to walk toward the
stairs. He did not fail to notice the fall of her countenance.

“Saints and sinners, this morning will never
end,” she muttered under her breath. She felt a small tug on her
arm and looked up at the Duke.

“We shall make the announcement briefly and
not stay for the inevitable questions and adulation, however. I
have no more interest in being on display like some museum trinket
than you, it would seem. What say you to breakfast on the second
floor terrace instead?”

Jonas felt Juliet squeeze his arm as her
face lit up with appreciation. “That sounds much more to my liking,
Your Grace,” she replied. Their pace slowed as they came within a
few steps of the dining room doors.

“Let's have your best smile then as we beard
the lions in their den, as it were.” Juliet made a face in an
attempt at a smile but looked rather pained instead. “I think fewer
teeth would be more convincing, with less panic in your eyes.”
Juliet could not stop her laughter from bubbling forth. “Perfect,”
murmured Jonas as he looked at her appreciatively longer than
necessary before turning them into the room. After the
much-witnessed events in the ducal chambers earlier, all eyes were
trained on the couple now framed in the doorway. Jonas placed a
comforting hand over the one Juliet had resting on his arm.

“Friends, I trust we have not kept you
waiting on pins and needles,” he began in his smooth baritone.
“Please allow me to present Lady Juliet Quinn, future Duchess of
Dorset, my betrothed. Our presence is required elsewhere so we must
postpone our acceptance of your felicitations but we thank you in
kind, and bid you good morning.” The Duke pivoted, pulling a
smiling but slightly stunned Juliet with him, departing to the echo
of gasps and surprised chatter amongst his guests.

“Well. That announcement was no fun at all,”
groused Maj. Quinn. “I expected at least some glowers from some men
and sniffles from some ladies, not to mention pointed whispers from
a few matriarchs. Now we have nothing about which to joke on our
ride to London,” he complained to Capt. Hughes.

Miranda had summoned the ladies to leave the
dining room while Aunt Catherine rang for another breakfast to be
served in her suite. Included in the impromptu meeting was Lady
Margaret Stansbury. Being the unfortunate sister to Viscount
Melville left her at the mercy of his ambiguous reputation. As
such, Miranda and the Countess felt Lady Margaret needed both
friends and purpose to occupy her time in Sussex. While they waited
for the group to convene, two footmen arrived to set up a table and
lay out the breakfast dishes. A steaming carafe of coffee and
still-bubbling pot of water for tea were placed on a side table
while triangles of toast, sweet pastries, butter and cream, and a
variety of jams were arranged so the ladies could eat
en
famille
. Lady Ashford looked up as the ladies
began to trickle into the sitting room, Miranda directing them to
find a seat around the table. As the last lady was aided to her
chair, Lady Ashford dismissed the staff and looked around at the
curious faces.

“I know you are all aware of the betrothal
of my niece and His Grace, so I will tell you something you do not
know. Lady Juliet and the Duke are in love, or at least well on
their way to being so, but are too stubborn or too cowardly – or
both – to admit it to the other. We have but one week to throw
these two together enough times to force the issue, so to speak,
and make them confront and admit their feelings toward each other.
For this, I need your help.”

“The marriage is of a sudden but necessary,
since they were found so compromised. Since they will marry
regardless, why must they confess their feelings?” questioned Lady
Gertrude Lovelace.

“
Ladies, I will let you in
on a matrimonial secret. Well, it is actually a phrase that applies
to most decisions you will make in your life: 'begin as you mean to
go on.' In this instance, I speak of marriage, so regardless of the
circumstances, be it arranged, a friendship, a rescue, or for love,
you must be proactive to ensure your marriage will be the one you
desire from its inception. Do not play the milk-and-water miss then
grouse later if you are not perceived as strong and independent. Do
not hide your thinking mind, believing a man prefers a frippery-mad
decoration for his arm, if you one day wish to be a partner to your
husband both in and out of the bedroom. Be yourself from the outset
and you will endure less heartache and self-reproach.” The Countess
took a delicate sip of her tea. “I speak from experience, having
listened to ill advice that led me to subvert my natural nature
with one of vapidity and delicacy. And what did I earn for my
foolishness? Marriage to a man who was my intellectual and
emotional inferior, who took every opportunity to belittle me in
every way. It took me three years – three long, anguish-filled, and
arduous years – to remember who Catherine Ashford really was, and
that she was worth the space she filled in this land. Because of my
prevarication, my marriage was one of strife, vexation, and
disappointment. So why must Jonas and Juliet confess their
feelings? Because they want the same things from each other and
marriage and need to see each other without the distracting
complications of propriety and duty.”

Silence reigned in the drawing room as the
ladies alternately sipped tea or nibbled toast corners. Wide eyes
and pink-tinged cheeks ringed the table. The Countess set her tea
cup back in its saucer and eyed the group carefully.

“It makes sense to me,” chimed Lady
Temperance Warren after an uncomfortable silence threatened to
suffocate the inhabitants of the room. “It sounds as if you
describe my parents, Lady Ashford. They are all that is polite and
perfectly civil to each other, yet my father knows not what my
mother's favorite meal or color are, nor would he care to. My
mother knows only what she must show Society, in the style of her
dress or the decoration of our homes, the turn of a phrase to charm
in conversation. I have often decried that my upbringing, while
completely secure and without fear or abuse, had all the warmth and
feeling of blancmange. You see it sitting on the plate, perfectly
capable of offering sustenance to a hungry soul, yet it holds no
appeal in its color and the taste is even worse. Well, I for one do
not desire a blancmange marriage for myself nor for my friend
Juliet. Whatever help I can lend, I heartily offer.”

“My parents are desperately in love. As I
grew older, I often felt embarrassed by their unguarded displays of
affection. What delighted me as a child, whether it be their
holding hands or stolen kisses, gradually made me think less of
them as I grew. I saw the behavior of other couples while my
governess drilled all manner of propriety and ladylike behavior
into me. I sometimes think my parents' affection indecorous.” Miss
Harriet Shaw paused with a look of fearful determination on her
face. “Suddenly I am ashamed of my feelings. I have known only love
and comfort, yet I grew resentful of it. Now I fear I am being
pursued by the Earl of Dartmouth for less than honorable reasons,”
she confided in a whisper.

“Oh, no, Harriet! Juliet assures me
Dartmouth has no nefarious goals in mind. He is in earnest in his
pursuit,” vowed Miranda

“But it is all so sudden. A man with whom I
have never danced, never spoken, and never dreamed to do either,
has become my shadow. I had quite resigned myself to being firmly
on the shelf at my advanced age. What could be his motivation?
Should I 'begin as I mean to go on' and confront him, question his
interest of a sudden, or should I wait for him to reveal his
intentions?”

The Countess suddenly slapped her hand on
the table, causing the dishes to rattle and some tea to slosh.
“Miss Shaw, you are what, five and twenty? You are lovely and
graceful; only your spirit is mature. You are not some dizzy
debutante, and there is an attraction in that for a man ready to
find a wife. If you want to know these things of Dartmouth then, by
all means, ask. If you are content to be led to the altar for
whatever reason, then continue to fear the company of your shadow.
I merely caution you all to refrain from crying surprise over an
unpleasant or unsatisfying outcome when you follow the dictates of
others without any investigation or questions of your own.”

“This is all very well and good, if all the
players are sworn to behave properly, at least by Society's
standards, but what of those who would betray their own family to
the devil himself for twenty pieces of silver?” Lady Margaret
Stansbury asked quietly with eyes firmly fixed on her lap. Her
reference to Judas and his betrayal of the Christ did not go
unnoticed.