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Authors: Tamara Lejeune

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BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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Lady Elkins interceded as Maria's nostrils began
to flair. "But there is nothing at Westlands older than
the year 1700, my lady. The first Earl left everything
in Surrey to his younger brother, including all the
pictures of our ancestors, when he took possession of Westlands. Juliet, you must take her ladyship to the
gallery and show her the pictures."

"Oh, no one cares to see pictures of other people's
relatives," said Juliet. "Lady Maria can have no more
interest in our pictures than we have in hers."

"Indeed," Lady Maria returned smartly. "There is
no comparing ancestors with me, as I am sure you
must know, Miss Wayborn."

"I have had occasion to look up the Aucklands
quite recently," Juliet admitted. "The Amblers came
over with the Hanoverian Elector," she whispered to
her aunt before returning to Lady Maria with a bright
smile. "To which of the many tribes of Germany did
the Amblers belong, Lady Maria? That information
seems to have been left out of the latest edition."

Lady Maria choked on her fury, her little heartshaped face turning red.

"I must apologize," Lady Serena said quickly, her
violet eyes wide and scandalized, "for not returning
your call sooner, Miss Wayborn. As I was telling your
aunt, with so many calls to return, somehow, I must
have overlooked your little cards. Do forgive me."

`Juliet could never take offense at any trifling
thing," Lady Elkins said before her impetuous niece
could turn her wrath on Serena. "Indeed, she is the
dearest, sweetest girl who ever lived."

"Indeed, I must be,"Juliet agreed carelessly. "For,
not only do I forgive them for not coming sooner, I
truly believe I could forgive them for not coming at
all! Now, please do excuse me, your ladyships. I must
go and change my dirty clothes."

"You have been riding, Miss Wayborn," Lady Maria
called after her, eager to exert her authority and
force the insolent Miss Wayborn to remain standing before her when she clearly wanted to leave. 'Was my
brother not with you?"

"Your brother? With me?"Juliet smiled. "Certainly
not, ma'am. I haven't seen Ginger since very late last
night when he broke the bedwarmer!"

Lady Elkins slumped as though she had fainted, but
unfortunately for her delicate sensibilities, it was only
a pose. When one most craved oblivion, one remained stubbornly conscious.

"Ginger! " exclaimed Lady Maria, unable to conceal
her astonishment. "Why, you impudent-"

"But, now you mention it,"Juliet continued sweetly,
"as I was passing the breakfast room just now, I heard
some rather disgusting wet noises coming from within.
I daresay it was your brother. He makes those noises
when he eats, I have noticed."

She saw with great satisfaction that Lady Maria was
seriously discomposed. Her ladyship appeared on
the verge of inflicting violence upon Miss Wayborn.

"Excuse me,"Juliet said sweetly, offering a graceful
curtsey before sauntering from the room in the most
nonchalant manner. This time, Lady Maria did not
seek to detain her.

Lord Swale was not with Mr. Cary Wayborn, as
Lady Elkins had supposed. Nor was he in the breakfast room, as Juliet had suggested. In fact, he was
standing in the hall outside Juliet's room with a
bucket of newts, and that is where the daughter of the
house found him. He frowned at her. "You went out
riding and didn't tell me," he complained. "I'd have
gone with you."

"Bernard was with me, thank you," she answered.

"You prefer his company to mine, do you?"

"You appear to have been rather too busy to take
me riding," she pointed out, bending to look in the
bucket. Two or three brightly colored newts paddled
around in the water. "Newts, Ginger?" She shook her
head in disapproval. "Not very original."

"But damned effective! I'm a traditionalist, Miss
Wayborn. I don't apologize for that."

"I'll take those," she said hastily as a door opened
further down the hall. "Your sister's come to take
you away from this terrible place. You'll find her in
the drawing room with a ... a certain lady."

"Many thanks, Julie," he whispered. "It wouldn't do
for me to be caught this close to Agincourt, eh? See
you downstairs in two shakes." He trotted away, leaving her to face Benedict with the bucket in her hands.

"Juliet, I understand we have guests," he began
rather crankily, then broke off as he saw the pail she
could have no hope of concealing. "What is that?"

"It's a bucket."

He looked inside and recoiled. "What did I tell
you about newts?"

"You said, `No newts.' I remember it distinctly."

His lips thinned. `Juliet, I realize you must be even
more eager to banish Lord Swale than you were Mr.
Calverstock, but you can't go about the place scattering newts. Give me the newts."

"Don't hurt them," she said quickly. "It isn't their
fault, you know."

"I'm not going to hurt them," he told her coldly.
"I'm going to have Billy take them back to the lake
where they belong. If I can ever find Billy ..." he
added under his breath.

Juliet suddenly grasped his arm. "Do you hear
that?" she demanded. "Someone is playing my pianoforte!"

Benedict listened for a moment to a rather frank
and yet sensitive interpretation of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. "Playing it rather well, too. You could play
like that, Juliet, if you would take the time to practice."

"Serena! "Juliet seethed. "How dare she come into
my house and exhibit on my instrument!" In a flash
of scarlet, she rushed down the stairs.

`Juliet, slow down! You'll break your neck." He
did not expect her to heed him, and she did not. With
a sigh, he trudged down the stairs after her, carrying
the bucket. He was astonished to find his sister listening at the doors of the drawing room, her face a
mask of misery.

"Are you sulking because Lady Serena has more
talent at the pianoforte?" he teased her. "I doubt she
sings as well as you do."

"That is not Serena," she answered. "It's him. How
I detest him!"

"Who?"

"Ginger! "

Benedict was astounded. "Swale? Swale is playing
the instrument?"

"He plays like an angel," she said bitterly, clenching and unclenching her fists. "Couldn't you just
strangle him? He said he was rather fond of music!
Fond! "

"Now, Juliet," he admonished her. "I know how
you feel about him, but-"

"I hate him!"

"Quite," said Benedict. "But you can't stand out
here in the hall. You must go in. It is not right that
our aunt is left to entertain so many visitors."

"I have to change my clothes," she said, running
past him and up the stairs to the safety of her room
and slamming the door. The sight of a smiling Swale bent over the instrument, with a smiling Lady Serena
bent over him, had been more than she could endure
when she had looked into the room.

"How dare he play my piano?" she panted furiously as she tore off her scarlet jacket. "How dare he!"

She wiped tears from her eyes and told herself
firmly that they were tears of anger. If Ginger was content to be Serena's fool, it was nothing to her. If
Serena wanted to be his wife, it was only his rank and
fortune that attracted her, of course, but again, that
was nothing to her. If they would only get out of her
brother's house and not force her to watch the sickening progress of their romance, she would be quite
content.

That there might be a deeper reason for the turmoil
of her emotions did occur to her, but it was ruthlessly
suppressed as she recalled with loathing Serena's
simpering expression as she was turning the pages of
Swale's music. Her ladyship's ostrich plumes and
rich attire Juliet thought rather ridiculous for the
country. For herself, she chose a light green sprigged
muslin and soft kid boots. She gave her hair a good
brushing and tied it back with a green ribbon, then
went down half hoping that the proud Silvercombe
ladies had made the most of her absence and taken
Ginger away.

Her disappointment at finding him in the drawing
room was not very pronounced, however. He smiled
at her, and she smiled back with a queer little fluttering, melting sensation in her chest.

"Here is Miss Wayborn," he said almost as if he
had discovered her on the other side of the world
and brought her back as his trophy. "May I present
my brother to you? Colonel Fitzwilliam, this is Miss
Wayborn."

A gentleman she had not noticed before came forward. She wondered if he had been in the room earlier when she had met Lady Maria and decided that
he could not have been. He seemed a mild gentleman
of nondescript appearance, but there was something
in his countenance that convinced her he would not
stand by and allow his wife to be abused as she had
abused Maria.

"I have heard a great deal about you, Miss Wayborn," said the Colonel, bending over her hand. She
detected a note of reproach in his grave, gentle voice
and blushed.

"And this is my sister Maria," Swale continued.
"Serena you know, of course." He rushed over to the
pianoforte where Serena was seated. "This is your instrument, I collect, Miss Wayborn?"

She nodded, forcing herself to speak. "I did not
know you played, sir. You put me to shame."

"I learned chiefly to annoy Maria," he said. "How
she struggled, poor girl, and how easily it came to me!
It just sort of flows off my fingertips."

Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted as he saw his wife's
temper rise. "I was hoping you could give me a game
of billiards, Geoffrey," he said. "With Redfylde away,
Silvercombe is a bit of a henhouse, I'm afraid."

"Yes, Geoffrey, do come to Silvercombe for dinner,
and give poor Henry a game afterward," cried Maria.

"But Miss Wayborn plays billiards," said Serena
with an impish smile on her lovely face. "Don't you,
Miss Wayborn? Miss Wayborn could give you a game
of billiards, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Juliet stiffened. "My brother Cary taught me," she
said coldly, "but I only play against him."

"Indeed," Lady Elkins cried. "It was very bad of Cary to have taught her, but as she only plays with him, I
don't see the harm."

"Why shouldn't he teach me?" Juliet said irritably.
"Benedict can't play, and there are times when Gary
would have no opponent if I hadn't learned."

"You should teach Maria to play," Swale suggested
to his brother. "Then you would never lack for a
partner, Fitz. You'll give me a game after dinner,
won't you, Miss Wayborn?"

"You have been invited to dine at Silvercombe, my
lord, and I only play with my brother," replied Miss
Wayborn severely.

"Oh, Maria can't invite me to Silvercombe," said
Swale. "It ain't her house. I couldn't possibly accept
an invitation from anyone other than Lord Redfylde."

"Oh, but do come here for dinner, Colonel
Fitzwilliam," cried Lady Elkins, recognizing her cue.
"You and your lady wife and dear Serena. Dine here with
us, and his lordship will give you a famous game of
billiards. "

"You forget, Aunt," Juliet said gently. "Tonight is
Mrs. Oliphant's card party. Their ladyships are engaged for the evening."

"But that's not for hours yet," said Swale, running
his fingers over the keys. "We can invite them, can't
we, Miss Wayborn, to come along with us on our
excursion?"

Juliet frowned at him. "What excursion?"

"You did promise to take me to the church and
show me the effigies of Baron Wayborn and his lady.
You haven't forgotten?"

"I seem to have forgotten the part where you expressed an interest in the scheme," she said. "I had
the impression you were rather disdainful of our
effigies."

"A night in Runnymede has changed me forever,"
he said. "I feel very close to Baron Wayborn. I am agog
with curiosity to see his effigy. This is the real twelfth
century stuff, I trust?"

"Certainly. "

"You won't find any twelfth century effigies at Westlands," Lady Elkins smugly announced. "But we have
some quite good effigies in the private chapel, and
such beautiful stained glass windows too. There is
scarcely a stone in the village church that doesn't have
the name Wayborn carved into it."

"I daresay the ladies are not at all interested in effigies," said Juliet doubtfully.

"We were going to have a picnic in the meadow,"
said Lady Maria.

"We were?" Lady Serena appeared startled.

"Yes, we were," said Maria firmly. "Doesn't that
sound nicer than exploring some moldy old church,
Geoffrey? You won't mind relinquishing him, will
you, Miss Wayborn? I haven't seen my brother in
some weeks-I want his company. "

Juliet realized with a sick thudding feeling in her
belly that she did mind. She minded very much.
"No, indeed, Lady Maria," she said faintly, meeting
Serena's mocking smile with difficulty. "Take him
away and feed him. He eats all our muffins here. It's
very tiresome."

"I could eat," Swale admitted. "But I'd like to see
the chapel too."

"Why can we not do both, my lord?" Lady Elkins
brightly suggested that the young people walk down
to the church to see the effigies. "I'll follow in the
barouche with the picnic lunch. Juliet knows a shortcut through the meadow-it's scarcely above half a
mile. Quite a pleasant, shady walk."

Swale was all enthusiasm, Maria less so, and Lady
Serena not at all, but the scheme was universally
adopted when Colonel Fitzwilliam was promised a
game of billiards afterward. "I'll get the key," Juliet said
wearily, returning a few minutes later wearing the key
to the Wayborns' private chapel on a ribbon around
her neck and carrying a battered, broad-brimmed
straw hat and a stout, straight limb of ashwood.

Clapping her hat down over her head, she led
them by way of the terrace down to the lake. Swale followed with Serena on his arm. She needed his arm,
for the high-heeled slippers she was wearing did not
agree with the trek through the woodland. Behind
them, Colonel Fitzwilliam gravely escorted his wife.

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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