A Daring Captain for Her Loyal Heart: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance
Author: Ayles, Abby
Date: 2019-08-24

Copyright

Copyright © 2019 by Abby Ayles

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

A Daring Captain for her Loyal Heart

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

The Extended Epilogue

A Message from Abby

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Book 1 – Portrait of Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Also by Abby Ayles

A Daring Captain for her Loyal Heart

Chapter 1

The two men faced off against one another, the tension between them palpable to any onlooker. The moments ticked by at an unbearably slow pace, as they looked each other up and down, waiting for an opening.

The tension burst as one rushed at the other, tackling him around the waist and forcing him back a few paces. The other was quick to react, hooking his arm around the first man’s head and locking it into position so that he could not struggle loose.

They twisted and turned, each fighting for the upper hand. They exchanged no words, only grunted with the strain and the effort.

One finally found an opening, landing a blow to the other’s ribs – but it was a soft blow, and one that signaled only the end of the fight.

“Alright, I yield,” Christopher Hardwicke laughed, letting go of his friend’s neck and stepping backward. “You got me again, Rivers.”

Jasper Rivers straightened up, flashing him a grin of victory. “As always,” he said. “You’re lucky I didn’t really have a knife.”

“I’m not sure why you would pull a knife on your best friend,” Christopher laughed. “It would be terribly unsporting.”

Jasper brushed himself off, laughing in return. “Not to mention that the Captain would be none too happy with us for thinning the ranks of our own army.”

“You’re right about that,” Christopher smirked. “Though if you ask me, this army could do with fewer officers – at least, the ones above us. More room for us to move up.”

“Well, give us some time,” Jasper said, picking up his scabbard and reattaching it to his belt. “We’ve only just got here. Once we know the score a little more, we might find there’s an opening somewhere.”

Christopher shrugged. He had already made some inquiries since they were reassigned to their new barracks.

“All the officer positions are full here. Just about everywhere, it seems. I’ve put out a few queries, but I don’t think there’s a captain missing in the whole of the south of England.”

“Hm. We’ll have to do something about that,” Jasper said.

Christopher raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see that we can. Besides, we’ll be busy enough with everything this season.”

“You have some plans?” Jasper asked. “I hope you’re not expecting to leave me behind.”

Christopher laughed. “Never, old chum. You know we both have lodgings for our leave in Bath. But I do think perhaps you might want to stay at the barracks when I go back to visit home.”

Jasper pulled a face. Nothing more needed to be said: they both knew what had happened last time Jasper had visited Hardwicke Hall.

It had been a terrible to-do; Jasper had succeeded in persuading Christopher’s younger sister, Patience, to run away with him, and it was only at the last minute that they were stopped with Patience’s honor still intact.

Jasper flopped down on his cot, making himself comfortable. “I suppose I should never show my face in front of Edmund again.”

“My brother is not the forgiving kind,” Christopher agreed.

In fact, Edmund, the Earl of Kelt, had been incensed to know that Christopher still fraternized with Jasper – but he was not in the military, and he did not know what it was like.

Bonds that were forged here were strong, and when two men still served together, it was not as though they could avoid one another.

Besides which, they were officers. That meant they treated one another with honor. And since no real harm had been done – except for Patience complaining and sulking for weeks straight – Christopher had let the matter go.

Perhaps if he really had run away with her, it would have been a different matter.

Edmund, on the other hand, had no bond with Jasper. He had given Christopher a black eye for bringing his friend to the family home, so there was no telling how far he would go if he ever saw Jasper again. Even the calming influence of his wife would likely not be enough to hold him back.

“Still, all is well with the family?” Jasper asked, even managing not to sound as if he couldn’t care a fig.

“Oh, yes,” Christopher said, trying to ignore the treacherous spike of jealousy when he thought of how happy they were. “Edmund is settled in very nicely with his new wife. They are expecting a child soon.”

Jasper snorted. “I bet that will be the end of it for your siblings,” he remarked, picking at something on the inside of one of his fingernails.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, once he has a child of his own, I doubt the Earl will want to mess around playing father to the others. He’ll have his hands full. The girls will be married off as soon as possible and ignored otherwise.”

“You can’t think so!” Christopher exclaimed.

“Why not? It’s a tale as old as time. The new lion takes over the pack, and he kills the cubs of the old king. People are always more dedicated to their own children. I was only packed off to the army because my mother remarried.”

Christopher frowned. “You have him wrong,” he said. “Since our parents died, Edmund has only ever taken his duties seriously. Besides, Samuel is away at school, and Patience should be married before long anyway. By the time the new child is walking around unaided, he’ll only have Amy left with him. She’s not exactly a burden.”

“If you believe it to be so, I cannot argue. Granted, the only impression I have of him is that of an extremely angry man,” Jasper commented.

“Well, you do have that effect on most people.”

“Since my birth,” Jasper admitted cheerily. “It’s always been a particular skill of mine.”

“And what of your family? They are well?” Christopher asked, mostly out of politeness.

Jasper waved a hand dismissively. “All well. Why shouldn’t they be? Nothing new to report. But tell me, will Edmund hire a new governess? I do so enjoy a governess.”

“You won’t get your hands on her, even if he does,” Christopher said, scowling at the shameful memory of his own attempt to woo Joanna – the former governess who was now his brother’s bride. That was something he wished that he could forget.

“You’ll have to make do with the ladies of Bath.”

“You’re still set on making the trip again this season, then?”

“Of course. I’ve already announced my leave to the Captain. I’m staying with another officer, and I’ve arranged a room for you in the same house. Lady Juliana will be in town at the same time.”

Jasper gave him a sly look. “You old dog. Returning to old grounds, eh?”

Christopher turned away from him and tidied his trunk, aimlessly, afraid that he might be seen to blush.

“It’s not exactly like that. Nothing happened between us last season. When I court her, it will be for the first time.”

Jasper followed him to elbow him in the ribs. “I’m sure.”

Christopher gave a yelp of protest, and quickly turned to tackle his friend. “Don’t start this again,” he said, as they began to play at fighting once more. The sting of red in his cheeks only served to make Christopher wrestle Jasper harder.

After confusing minutes of straining and matching strength against strength, Christopher managed at last to get a hand up to Jasper’s throat, clenched around the handle of an imaginary knife.

“I yield! I yield!” Jasper cried with a grin, seemingly only more satisfied by his friend’s embarrassment.

Satisfied, Christopher let him go.

His thoughts about Juliana were his own, and he didn’t wish to share them with anybody – least of all Jasper, who wouldn’t understand.

He wouldn’t understand staying up at nights, envisioning only one woman’s face, your ears ringing with only one woman’s laughter. He wouldn’t understand counting the days until he saw her again. Planning, hoping, dreaming, imagining.

Most of it, Christopher didn’t understand either. But if there was one thing he did understand, it was this:

A tree had taken root inside his heart last year, and it was growing and growing whether he wanted it or not. A willow tree of smiles and glances, of warmth and starlight, lean and strong and persistent.

There was no point in trying to uproot it. It had reached the core of his heart and had become entangled with it.

If there was one thing that helped him rise every day, that helped him survive the bleak days of life in the army, was the dream he could be in her presence again. And he would.

He would see Juliana again. And this time, everything would be different.

Chapter 2

Lady Juliana Reffern lounged by her window, basking in the light of the sun as it flowed over her long, dark hair. Still, she refused to be cheerful. After all, she was in trouble – and it had been made more than clear to her.

Weeks had gone by, and still her stepfather had not relented in his unhappiness with her.

“It’s all just so unfair,” she sulked. “He won’t let me do anything.”

“Well, you did rather cause a scandal,” said Lady Mary Westenholme.

The two girls were firm friends, with Lady Mary visiting Juliana for weeks at a time – though she was no longer allowed to return the favor.

“It doesn’t mean I should be confined only to my home,” Juliana protested. “It’s not as though I would be unsupervised were I to visit with you. Your mother and father have always been most scrupulous.”

“Perhaps your mother and stepfather want to ensure that you do not meet any more young lords,” Mary teased gently.

Juliana sighed. It was not as though Mary didn’t have a point. Everyone had been rather taken with the idea of her marrying the Viscount of Drevon when they started courting over the winter.

Her mother had made some small comments about the match not being quite equal since Juliana was the daughter of the current Duchess of Prighton. Juliana’s stepfather, however, had soon corrected his wife on that matter – Juliana was only the third daughter of the house, after all.

“He was just so boring,” Juliana sighed.

Mary knew instinctively who her friend was speaking of – after all, there had been talk of little else in the last months.

“Just because a man is boring, does not mean that he would not make a fine husband,” she said, primly.

Juliana rolled her eyes. “You sound just like the Duke,” she said. “I do not know why they could not understand it at all. Lord Drevon and I were matched so quickly, after all. These things are sometimes done in mistake.”

“Try telling that to his family,” Mary said heavily. “I hear they had already agreed to a lease on what was to be your future home.”

Juliana made a face. “A horrid, poky little estate. I wouldn’t have had it. No, it was entirely unsuitable.”

Mary picked up the book she had been reading, and pretended to study it once more. “I do worry that, compared to Prighton Hall, you will find very few estates in the whole of the country that match up to your expectations.”

“Just one that I have heard of,” Juliana said dreamily, getting up to sit on the window seat.

“Oh, not Hardwicke Hall,” Mary groaned. “Are you not done with that soldier yet?”

“He’s not a common soldier,” Juliana corrected her sternly. “He’s a Lieutenant now. He was only in training when we first met last summer, but now he has his commission.”

“Even so. He shan’t earn much at all from the army, and you know he won’t ever inherit Hardwicke Hall. You’d have to live somewhere else.”

Juliana picked up an old rag doll from beside her bed and threw it at Mary. “Will you not be satisfied until I am deeply unhappy?”

Mary ignored the doll, allowing it to land ineffectually beside her. “You should not even be talking of him, Juliana. If the Duke hears you, who knows what punishment he will decide upon.”

“He is already exceedingly angry with me,” Juliana sighed, looking out across the gardens where the flowers were just beginning to stir from their winter sleep. “I do not truly believe he could go any further.”

“I am quite sure that he could,” Mary warned her. “At least, for the moment, he has allowed me to stay.”

Juliana looked at her friend with some concern. Much plainer than herself, with her light hair that resembled straw even when she attempted to coerce it into a fashionable hairstyle, Mary was not considered a great beauty.

Those people were fools, and blind, according to Juliana, who couldn’t see Mary as anything less than beautiful. She was also one of the few people upon whom Juliana could truly rely. Her two sisters were already grown and married, and lived on their own estates.

To think of life with Mary banished for good gave her enough pause to quiet her down. “I suppose I should not have spoken to Lieutenant Hardwicke as I did,” she said.

“Lieutenant again now, is it?” Mary said, flashing her a smile as if to make her feel better again. “Only yesterday it was his Christian name you were insistent upon using.”

“You have a point about our conversation being overheard,” Juliana said, a little sourly.

“Well, you are right about that,” Mary agreed, putting her book down again and abandoning the pretense. “You should not have given him to believe he had a chance at your hand.”

“But he does,” Juliana insisted, throwing her hands up in the air. “At least, if I have anything to say about it.”

“According to the Duke, you do not,” Mary cautioned her. “I know your mother has given you the freedom to believe you might marry your choice of man, but remember who has the final say.

“The Duke will want to ensure that you marry well, so that he does not have to worry so much about providing you an allowance. A military man will surely need that.”

“The Earl of Hardwicke has riches enough,” Juliana sulked. “He could provide for us. Anyway, it is all a moot point if we cannot get to Bath.”

There was a pause, and Mary joined her on the window seat. “Do you really think the Duke will prevent you from going this season?”

“Yes,” Juliana said, gripping her friend’s hand. “And that means he will prevent you too, since we were supposed to stay with my aunt. If only we could change his mind.”

“I do not think he will bend,” Mary shook her head, squeezing her hand back.

“It is no matter to me, really, Juliana. Perhaps a spring in the countryside will be fun for us. The flowers will be all blooming, and I am sure it will be quite lovely to walk around the grounds when the weather is fair.”

“That should provide us entertainment for a day. What of the other weeks?” Juliana huffed, leaning her chin on her hand as she stared out of the window.

“It will be so dreary here. To think of all the others, having fun and dancing and walking about town. They shall all have new gowns too, and we shall miss the latest styles. By the time we come to the summer balls, we shall end up a laughing-stock for our old-fashioned looks.”

Mary giggled. “I think it will not be quite so bad as all that, Juliana,” she said.

Juliana sighed. It was just like Mary to not be upset about missing the Season. She was always happier in quiet company, and she had hardly danced at all last year. Juliana had been waiting for her to blossom, but she seemed stubbornly intent on not doing so.

“Don’t you wish we could at least go to meet some of the new gentlemen who might be on the scene?” Juliana asked.

“I will be happy to marry whomever my parents choose,” Mary said, dutiful and diffident as ever. “Or if a gentleman should happen to choose me himself, it will be fine enough. I don’t long for the drama and politics of courtship.”

“You only say that because you have not yet fallen in love,” Juliana protested. “You will change your mind once it happens. Then you will care very much about who you are permitted to marry.”

“Well, at any rate, it will not happen this spring,” Mary said. “If we are not at Bath, then we shall not meet anyone new.”

“I just wish I knew of a way to change his mind,” Juliana said. “Or at least to get us there. Even if we have to agree to other restrictions…”

“I see that your mind is at work,” Mary said, quite seriously. “I fear that I should be quite worried.”

Juliana responded only by giving her friend a wicked grin, causing them both to fall in laughter together.

Her mind was indeed at work. And it would not rest until it came up with a way for her to see Christopher again.

Chapter 3

“What else do I need with me?” Christopher wondered out loud, staring at his trunk as if the answer would magically come to him.

“Whatever else you haven’t yet got,” Jasper said lazily, not getting up from where he lay on his bed.

He was thumbing through a little printed magazine, the kind that told dashing tales of heroes on the battlefield and women who swooned at their rescue.

“I don’t know what I would do without your help,” Christopher said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

“Any time you need me,” Jasper replied, flicking onto the next page.

Jasper’s lack of enthusiasm did nothing to dampen the excitement that Christopher felt.

He was a bundle of nerves, strange as it seemed even to him; it was not as though he had never met Juliana before, and yet here he was, with a whole swarm of butterflies making their home inside his stomach at the thought of seeing her.

He gnawed on his lip thoughtfully, and pulled out one of the jackets he had packed earlier to exchange it for another. Only his best, he had decided. It would not do for her to see him in his second-best jacket.

“Well, I think I have everything I need,” he said. “You’re ready, I assume?”

Jasper shrugged. “I’ll throw some things together in a while,” he said. “We’re not leaving for a couple of hours yet.”

Christopher shook his head. “But aren’t you excited? We don’t want to miss the coach.”

“We won’t,” Jasper said, turning another page of his magazine.

Christopher sighed and sat down on his cot, looking at his trunk again and trying to rack his brains for anything he may have forgotten to pick up. He ran through the events he was expecting in his mind to imagine what he would need.

His mouth twitched up into a smile at just the thought of dancing with Juliana.

It had been so long since he had had the chance to lead her in a dance. He remembered the first time they had met like it was yesterday…

Across the hall at Bath, he spotted a glimpse of yellow silk. A young lady dancing with a man, laughing with joy as she spun around in the center of the room.

Other couples made way for them as they passed through, but it was not the man that commanded the attention. If anything, he looked out of his depth.

His face was pale and strained as he strove to keep up with her. His occasional smile of joy was at his ability to make her laugh with happiness at the dance.

As they moved through the crowd, Christopher strained to catch another glimpse of her. He saw more flashes of that yellow silk, a fleeting sight of a beautiful face, hair moving with the steps of the dance.

Finally, the crowd parted in such a way that he had a full view of her. She turned in his direction as the dance dictated, and he was able to admire her in full for the first time.

She was shapely and small, the picture of a doll. Her hair hung long over her shoulders in artfully arranged curls.

The thing that Christopher noticed most of all, however, was the wide and free smile on her face. Above it, her eyes sparkled like twin stars.

In short, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Not only that, but the most well-dressed, the happiest, the most enticing. She was like no one he had ever seen before.

At that moment, not fire or flood or earthquake could have dissuaded him from getting close to her and finding the chance to ask her name.

Christopher cut through the crowd, following her movements. He almost ran around the corners of the dance hall, brushing past those who stood to the side to converse. He had to be in the right place when the dance finished.

He had to be right in front of her.

The music came to a close and he stood, catching his breath, watching her laugh and curtsy to her partner. Then he rushed forward, but he was too late; another man stepped in and offered his hand.

Cursing his luck, Christopher followed them again. The minutes passed in agony as he attempted to keep up, trying to be as close to her as possible.

When the couple strayed into the center of the hall, he cursed and ran his fingers back over his hair and mentally begged the musicians not to stop yet.

He knew this was as clear a chance as any that he would have to meet her. She was dancing with an officer he knew, and that meant that the man would be able to offer an introduction. Without that, he would be waiting a good time longer to dance with her.

A beauty such as hers might not be allowed to rest all night, since every man in the place would wish to dance with her if he could.

At last, the music began to trail off as the young woman returned closer to the edge of the room. It was done, and there was applause and bowing all around, and Christopher took his chance.

“Captain Jeffords,” he said, catching the woman’s last dance partner. “Who is this young lady? Might you introduce us?”

Jeffords grimaced, unable to hold back his chagrin. Perhaps he did not want to introduce this peach to anyone else, in case she was stolen from him. However, he did it all the same.

“You have the pleasure of meeting Lady Juliana Reffern, third daughter of the Duchess of Prighton,” he said.

“My lady, this is Mr. Christopher Hardwicke, a young man of noble blood who has but recently joined our camp. He is set to be a Lieutenant once his training is done.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” Juliana said, smiling at him. “Are you an only child?”

Christopher shook his head, a flash of sadness running through him as it always did when he thought of his family. There was also a hint of shame, that he might not be able to proffer up a finer position that would be a fitting match.

“No, my lady. The Earl of Kelt is my brother. I was a second son, and our parents were lost to the sickness but a few months past.”

Her whole expression softened. “I am sorry to hear it,” she said. “I myself lost my father some years ago. I know how cruel such a loss can be.”

Awful though it was, they had something in common. That was a lifeline, a thread of hope that Christopher clung to with all the strength of a dying man.

If they had something in common, they might be able to connect on a deeper level.

If they had something in common, he might be able to convince her to talk with him – to find other things that they shared. And if they had more things to share, perhaps their connection might begin to deepen to something more real.

Christopher gave her a sympathetic look, then deliberately brightened it to a smile. And how could he not smile in her presence?

“Might you do me the honor of this next dance? We may reminisce upon our shared sorrows.”

Juliana inclined her head. “I will dance with you,” she said. “But let us not talk of sorrow. It is a fine night, and young people such as we ought to be having fun.”

“You have the right of it,” Christopher agreed, leading her back into position.

She surprised him already. It was the same attitude which he himself might have shared, given the chance to express it. She was not held back by her sorrow nor defined by it. She was alive, and he had the sense that she knew what it was to live.

The dance was one in which couples formed a line facing one another, of which he was glad; it would give him more time to gaze upon her as they danced, and more time for conversation besides.

He wanted to drink in the image of her and follow it with information. Details that he could store up, things to connect the pair of them. He wanted to know everything about her.

“So, Mr. Hardwicke,” she said, with mock seriousness. “Are you stationed nearby?”

“No,” he admitted. “In fact, we are here on leave. The officers thought to bring some of us new recruits with them since they knew the season was underway.”

“Then you are here just for a short while?”

“It is so.”

They bowed and curtsied to one another as the music began, and walked through the graceful steps of the dance together.

“That is a shame. You shall not be able to call on me once you are returned to your barracks.”

“A shame indeed,” Christopher agreed. A heat had risen up his back at the idea of calling upon her. “Though I will still be in Bath tomorrow.”

“I will too,” Juliana informed him. “I am staying at the house of my aunt.”

“And where ought I find the home of this reputable lady?”

Juliana giggled only, as they turned around one another, resuming places on opposite sides of the line to which they had started.

It was maddening. Why would she not answer? Did she not realize that his very life depended upon it?

“At least you will give me a clue as to which one of these ladies here is your aunt,” Christopher suggested.

Juliana glanced over her shoulder. Christopher followed her gaze to a stout, stern-looking woman who was watching them closely.

“I do believe I have recognized her,” Christopher said gravely. “And she has recognized me.”

Juliana giggled again. “She is a formidable one,” she said. “You ought to be careful, Mr. Hardwicke.”

“So I shall, Lady Juliana,” he said, grinning impishly. “In fact, I always am.”

“That sounds rather dull,” Juliana said, giving him a mischievous look.

That was when he knew he was under her spell, and he would never break it, not as long as he lived…

“What’s so special about this trip, anyway?” Jasper asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He sighed carelessly as he finally began to pack his trunk. “You’re never this giddy usually. I’m worried I may have to fetch you a swooning couch.”

Christopher ignored his barb. Nothing could dissuade him from happiness at that moment.

“This trip, I know that Juliana is waiting for me,” he said. “She has given me hope that we might be betrothed by the time I return.”

“Her stepfather would allow it?” Jasper snorted.

Christopher hesitated. “Well, so she has given me to believe.”

Jasper laughed and shook his head. “You live in a dream world,” he said. “Why should he allow her to marry only a lieutenant? Even a viscount was not good enough for her last time.”

Crestfallen, Christopher had to agree with him. He made a good point. There was very little reason for him to appear an appropriate choice, particularly given Edmund’s impending child.

Before very long at all, he would be so far down the line of succession at Hardwicke Hall as to have no hope of a good inheritance whatsoever.

Not that he had ever expected it to be his; but he had at least thought to be married before his brother became the Earl. In point of fact, it should have still been his father who held the position. That would have been another situation entirely.

“I shall simply have to improve my commission,” Christopher declared. “Move up to Captain or Major. It’s the only way.”

“If a captaincy were to be available,” Jasper said, shaking his head. “You have as much hope there as of finding out that you have wings and can fly.”

“A little more, I think,” Christopher protested. “At least becoming a higher-ranked officer is within the physical realms of possibility. And I have the funding to buy my way in when it happens.”

“Possible, yet not probable.”

Christopher gazed down into his trunk in dismay. It was true – all of this could be in vain. How was he going to get past this wall that had risen in front of him?

With a certainty, he felt that he would not be able to do it alone. “Say you’ll help me,” he said suddenly, turning back to Jasper.

“Help you?”

“Yes, help me find a commission. Captain will do. It will. If I have that, I have enough hope that she will be mine. Just say you’ll help me.”

“I don’t see how I can,” Jasper said, shrugging his shoulders. “But, alright. If you can think of a way, I will lend my assistance.”

Christopher grinned, feeling hope once again. There had to be a way to find a commission, he just knew it – and with Jasper on his side, they would make it happen.

Caught up in his dreams and hopes, Christopher ignored that little knot of foreboding that briefly made its appearance in his stomach when Jasper agreed.

Chapter 4

“I shall never get to Bath at all,” Juliana said miserably, looking out of her window as the rain came down.

It was the only thing she had to look at these days. It was as if being kept away from the place she wanted to be made her only more acutely aware of how dreary it was to be inside all of the time.

There was nothing for it. She had wheedled and begged and tried everything to convince her stepfather to let her go.

She had even tried convincing her mother, who was not to be swayed either. Not even the mention of poor Mary being restricted from her usual visit was enough to turn their hearts.

Juliana had to resign herself to the fact that she was to be locked away forever, like a princess forgotten in her tower. And how was her prince to find her if he did not even know she was imprisoned?

There might not be a way to escape this tower, but she could still send a message to her prince.

Decisively, she took out a sheet of writing paper and a quill, and began to formulate a composition that would ensure he did not forget her over the season.

Dearest Lieutenant,

I am most heavy of heart as I write to you today. I am wasting away with missing you. It has been so long since we last met, and yet I fear it will be a long time still before we meet again.

I have had the cruelest of news. My stepfather will not allow me to come to Bath this spring. I had so looked forward to seeing you again, and to dancing with you. I still remember how you caught me quite off guard this time last year, with your charm and your flattering words!

I have longed to see you since I broke off my engagement with Lord Drevon, whose name I know you prefer I never mention again.

You have been the only one in my heart these many months, even when I - under protest - agreed to his demands of marriage. I am so very happy that we may have the chance to meet again.

But I do not know when that will be. Or if it is going to be at all. How might I manage to wait out these dismal and dreary months? I wish I had been born a pauper, that I might choose for myself who I was to marry and when!

My heart cries out to be next to yours again. Only when we are once more within the same room will I return to happiness. I care not if we have a hundred chaperones, a thousand of them. Simply to look upon your face again will be enough for me.

I am beside myself with misery now that I know it shall not happen this spring. Please, we must find some way to meet again soon.

Perhaps there will be a ball over the summer. If I am still imprisoned in my tower then, perhaps you might beseech my stepfather to let me down from a high window. I shall be much in need of a rescue.

Yours, and with the deepest ache at missing your company,

Juliana

Juliana sealed the letter inside an envelope, letting a little wax from a candle onto the paper so that it would be impossible for anyone else to read it without detection.

“Bessie!” she called out.

Within only a few moments, a thin, sparrow-like creature emerged. Bessie was Juliana’s maid, though she was a slight and nervous thing. She had her uses, and was often most efficient, even if she did look as though a stiff wind might break her.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Take this letter,” Juliana said, pressing it into her hands with an urgent look.

“You must take it into town and post it yourself. Don’t send it with the household post, do you understand me? Father must not see it. Nor the butler. I do not trust his allegiances. Will you do as I ask?”

“Yes, my lady,” Bessie said, head bobbing up and down nervously. “Right away, my lady.”

“Good. Now go,” Juliana said, giving her one more intense stare for good measure. The girl often needed a little additional push.

Alone again, she sighed as she remembered the first time that they had met, at that ball a year ago…

“That sounds rather dull,” Juliana said, giving him a mischievous look that she hoped would convey exactly what she wished it to.

There was a pause then, as the dashing young soldier stepped around her, their bodies so close but never touching. Juliana wished he would at least take her by the hand, but this dance did not call for it.

“I think,” he said at last, “that you and I together could never be a dull combination.”

“You have it right,” Juliana laughed, filling the air with her enjoyment. Around them, people were watching, she knew. She always made sure that she was noticeable.

But this young soldier was noticeable himself. She saw that the ladies around them stared at his bright red uniform and his soft hair tucked back into a tail at his neck. He had quite the bone structure, a face that gave away his noble birth.

“So, shall I call upon you on the morrow?” he asked.

“It would only be rude of you not to. Particularly now that my aunt has seen us dancing, she will expect your presence.”

“Then I shall prepare myself most heartily for tea and pastries. She looks like a tea and pastries woman, your aunt.”

“Tea, yes,” Juliana giggled as she spun around him. “I do not know if you will be popular enough with her for the pastries.”

“You wound me,” he said. “I suspect far too few gentleman visitors are considered popular enough for the pastries, judging by your aunt’s appearance.”

Juliana squealed and her eyes flashed fire at him, though she smiled still. He was a card – a reckless and wicked one, but a card. “Lieutenant! You can’t!”

“What?” he asked with mock innocence. “I only mean that she gives me a stern gaze. Surely no man is good enough for her precious niece.”

All too soon the music came to an end and they faced one another, panting, to bow.

“How can you tell that I am precious in such a short time?” she asked, begging to hear one more compliment from his honeyed tongue.

“If you were mine,” he said, leaning close to her ear before she could react, “I should guard you like the most precious jewel in all the world, for I know how many would covet you.”

With a wink, he was gone, and her next dance partner stepped forward.

But for the rest of the night, Juliana only strained to catch a glimpse of him again, and wait until they might dance together one more time…

It was not two hours later before Juliana was hauled downstairs in front of her mother and stepfather, in the study which the latter called his place of work.

“What is this?” he thundered, laying down a piece of paper on the desk with such a flourish that there could be no doubt at all as to what it was.

“A letter,” Juliana ventured.

“And to whom?”

Juliana met the eyes of Bessie, who was simpering in the corner. The maid looked away quickly. Good, Juliana thought. At least she had the good grace to be ashamed of her behavior.

“To Lieutenant Christopher Hardwicke,” Juliana admitted, raising her chin and keeping her tone even. “It was private correspondence, in fact. I sealed it with wax.”

“You have no such thing as private correspondence, Juliana,” her mother said. “You are a young, unmarried lady. You should not be writing privately to soldiers.”

“Nor to any of the male sex,” her stepfather put in.

“No, indeed,” her mother agreed.

“I had the need to inform him that I would not be in Bath, as he was expecting me there,” Juliana scowled. “It is not the ladylike thing to leave a gentleman waiting when you are aware ahead of time that you shall not attend.”

“First of all, he should not at all be waiting for you without my permission,” the Duke of Prighton glowered. “And secondly, he is hardly a gentleman. He is only a soldier.”

“He is an officer,” Juliana protested. “And a noble-born one, at that.”

“Pah! Lieutenant is hardly even a commission,” the Duke spat. “And as for his noble birth, I’ll hear nothing of that. The boy is a nobody. Not even the son of an earl any longer, but the brother of one. One day he shall be the uncle of one. That is no nobility at all.”

“We had a perfectly good match for you,” the Duchess said, shaking her head sadly.

“That is over, Mother,” Juliana said. She had heard enough about her failed engagement to the young Lord Drevon. The topic was going beyond irritating to her now. “There is nothing that can be done about it any longer.”

“No, well,” her mother said, resting the back of her hand against her forehead as if stricken. “It is my great misery. But we can at least attempt to claw back some form of respectable position for you if you simply do as you are told.”

“And that does not include going off to your aunt’s home and out of our sight,” the Duke added. “We shan’t have you able to do whatever you like.”

Juliana saw an opening and leaped for it, with hardly the time to wonder where she would land. “My aunt is hardly likely to allow me that. She is one of the strictest chaperones I have ever seen.”

“Is that so?” the Duke asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Truly,” Juliana went on. “She only allows me and Mary the barest of freedoms to go to the market for ribbons and lace. We’re not out of her sight all day long, nor the night either.

“We must dine when she dines and sleep when she sleeps. And if she walks in the rain, we must walk in the rain. She’s a keen old eye. I daresay it is the only part about my visit to Bath that I am not sad to be missing.”

The Duke and Duchess exchanged a glance.

“Bessie,” he said. “Go out and bring the Lady Mary here, would you?”

Bessie dipped a curtsy and hurried out as fast as her skinny legs could carry her.

“You say that Mrs. Reffern is of the strictest sort?” The Duke turned to his wife. “Is that true, my lady?”

The Duchess gave him a blank look. “She is not my sister. She was married to my late husband’s younger brother, who passed away years ago, God rest his soul.

“I confess I do not know what sort of personality she may have with the young ladies now. Her husband never gave her a living child before he was gone. Perhaps she takes to being strict with them for protection.”

“Exactly so,” Juliana cut in, excited but aware of the perils of overdoing it. “She fears that if she lets us alone for one single moment, we will disgrace or injure ourselves or be gone forever. It is most tiresome.”

Bessie re-entered the room then with Mary at her side.

“Ah, Lady Mary,” the Duke said. “You come at an opportune moment. Tell me, what kind of chaperone is Mrs. Reffern?”

Juliana stiffened. For a long moment, she was afraid that Mary would give the game away by telling the truth:

That Mrs. Reffern could be fierce, but that she was also given to a drink, and would think nothing of letting the girls into the town on their own at any time of day.

She stared over at Mary, but the other girl did not so much as twitch her head in the right direction. Juliana mentally willed her, instead, to know the right answer.

“The strictest,” Mary said, calmly and smoothly as an iced lake. “Why, she never lets us alone.”

Internally, Juliana cheered for her friend. There was something to be said for having a person around you who understood, truly, what you were about.

There was even yet more to be said for that person not being ashamed to lie for you.

“Hmm,” the Duke muttered, walking around his desk and looking at his wife for a long moment. Some form of question must have passed between them, for then the Duchess nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “The two of you shall go to Bath. It sounds to my ears as though you will be safer there than you would be here, especially given that you are trying to invite this boy to visit you.

“I have not the time to oversee your every letter, though it seems that your aunt does. So, I shall send you to her, and rest easy knowing your every move is watched.”

As soon as they were away from the room, and they knew they could not be seen, Juliana turned and threw her arms around Mary’s neck.

“Oh, you beautiful friend!” she exclaimed.

“I gather I had it right, then?” Mary said, laughing.

“Yes. Most certainly, yes!”

We are going to Bath, Juliana thought, unable to contain her excitement. It is truly happening.

With the smile still on her face, she let her eyes flutter closed for a moment and sent a silent message to the skies, half a promise, half a prayer.

Wait for me, Christopher. I am coming.

Chapter 5

“There it is,” Christopher said, breathing deeply and exhaling. “The beautiful city of Bath.”

“Wonderful,” Jasper said dryly. “However, I don’t intend to sit out here in the street with our trunks all day. Do you think we might move them inside?”

“Fine, fine,” Christopher said good-naturedly. There was nothing that could spoil his mood now, not now that he was here in Bath. He was so close to seeing Juliana again, he felt almost as if he could fly.

They unloaded their trunks into the home of a colleague from the army, who had generously agreed to take in a few soldiers for a week or so while they were on leave. The man was a good friend of theirs, and always a sharp feature in the mess hall. His stories were the stuff of legend, though many people doubted whether a single word of them was actually true.

Still, it was enjoyable to listen, especially when you were stuck in your barracks far from all other entertainment. It was, perhaps, less useful here in Bath, where there was enough entertainment to spare.

That done, Christopher changed from his traveling clothes into a clean red uniform, ensuring before he left that his gold buttons were gleaming.

He went out into the street without Jasper, borrowed a horse from his friend’s stables, and traveled across the city to the rhythm of clomping hooves.

It was only a short trip before he could see the gates of Mrs. Reffern’s house ahead of him. The woman took residence here year-long, which was mighty convenient for visits from her niece.

He gathered she had other young relatives who would come to stay at various times, though he had met only Juliana.

He dismounted his horse, delivered the rein to a stablehand that had promptly appeared, and brushed himself off one last time. Satisfied that his appearance was at its best, he climbed the house’s steps. At the entrance, he was greeted by a man who served as a butler to the household.

Christopher waited alone in the hall while he fetched his mistress, rocking slightly on his heels and admiring the wallpaper. In truth, it was nothing spectacular, but he was so pleased to be there that he could have praised it day and night.

After all, this same wallpaper had the job of housing Juliana, and that meant it was the most exciting wallpaper in the world.

“Lieutenant,” a stern voice came from behind him.

Christopher turned to see Mrs. Reffern walking towards him. A stout woman with a sharp gaze, she had not changed at all since he had seen her last.

“Mrs. Reffern,” he greeted her. “I am most pleased and charmed, as always, to be in your presence once more.”

“I doubt that you will be pleased much longer,” the lady said ominously.

“Allow me to curtail our conversation and unnecessary graces with some news which is most pertinent to your visit. I hear tell from the Duke of Prighton that his stepdaughter will not be visiting with us this season. She is to remain in her family home.”

Christopher stared at her for a moment, his mouth agape. It took a while for the meaning of her words to truly filter through his consciousness.

Could this be right? No Juliana at all? Perhaps Mrs. Reffern had somehow been mistaken.

“No visit at all?” he finally managed to choke out.

“None,” Mrs. Reffern said, giving him another stony glare. “It seems that her parents are concerned about the type of character she might be spending time with here in Bath.”

There was a long pause, during which time Christopher could not fail to deduce from her tone and raised eyebrows who it was they were concerned about.

“Me?”

“Your reputation is a poor one, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Reffern said. “I hope you will not find it uncouth of me to cut right to the truth of the matter. There has been much talk about you and the company which you keep in relation to the young women of this town, and of others.”

“I assure you,” Christopher said, shaking his head rapidly. “All rumor and conjecture, nothing else. While it is true that there are some soldiers in our company, and even officers, who may treat the fairer sex poorly, I am not amongst them. Truly, I have been dedicated to the thought of no one but Lady Juliana this past year.”

“And then there is the matter of your standing,” the lady pressed on, ignoring his protests.

“At one time, you were the second son of an earl. Not the best of positions, but a fine one all the same considering that our Juliana is but the third daughter of a late earl.

“However, things have changed. Her mother remarried. She is a duchess now, and Juliana is a duke’s ward. And you…

“You are now the brother to an earl, and there is an heir to his estate already on the way. Should the baby arrive healthy and strong, you will be in a different position entirely.”

“Yes, but…” Christopher began, his throat drying up as he trailed off.

“But?” Mrs. Reffern replied, raising her chin in a clear challenge.

Christopher struggled to come up with some response. “Edmund will give me a good allowance to live on. And I am an officer.”

“A lieutenant,” Mrs. Reffern replied, looking at the badge denoting his rank with clear scorn.

That was all there was to be said. Christopher knew he had lost this argument, or discussion, or whatever it might be called when a man is lost before he begins. The Reffern family and the Duke of Prighton’s family had clearly decided long before this day that he was not a suitable man for Juliana.

Shoulders slumped, Christopher turned to go. He reclaimed his horse and rode back through the streets, stopping at the first tavern he came across.

“Boy,” he called out to a young lad who was slinking around near the entrance. “Carry a message for me.”

He held out a silver coin, and the boy rushed forward eagerly.

“Yes, sir! What should I tell ‘em?”

“Find Lieutenant Jasper Rivers and tell him his presence is wanted here, at the…” Christopher craned his neck to read the sign hanging above the door. “George and Dragon.”

Having given the lad the address, Christopher watched him dash down the road and weave through the crowds before he entered and ordered an ale.

He had already finished his first drink by the time Jasper came in.

Glancing around distastefully, Jasper sat opposite him, eyeing the sticky table and evidently deciding not to rest his forearms upon it. “Could you not have chosen a grimier establishment?” he asked.

“It does not matter,” Christopher said heavily, leaning on his own elbows. “I could attach all the grime in Bath to my uniform and it would not make me lower, nor less desirable.”

“Lady Juliana has rejected your advances?” Jasper asked, the beginning of a sneer on his face.

“Worse than that,” Christopher replied, waving a hand at the barkeep and indicating a requirement for two more drinks.

“She is not even here. Her family has decided I am persona non grata. I am not to even be allowed contact with her, for fear that I might entrap her somehow.”

“Well, isn’t that what you were hoping to achieve?” Jasper pointed out.

“No!” Christopher exclaimed, causing some nearby patrons to turn and stare at them. “Juliana loves me. It is not a trap of any kind. I simply wished to make her happy.”

“If it is any consolation, brother in arms, I believe Lady Juliana Reffern has loved several men in this town alone,” Jasper said, grinning wickedly.

“That is no consolation,” Christopher said. “And it is also a lie. She has been courted, yes, but none successfully. It should be me that wins her. She wrote to me how she is hopeful that we may end up married.”

Jasper took a deep draught of the mug of ale that had arrived in front of him, prompting Christopher to do the same.

“It won’t do to dwell on her,” Jasper cautioned him. “That way lies misery. Take my lead. You shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket, in any case. You ought to be courting as many girls as you can. There are plenty of them out there.”

“I know what kind of ruffian you are. I won’t be drawn into it,” Christopher said, draining his second mug.

“Ruffian?” Jasper laughed. “The only difference between us, my friend, is that you draw the line just before the interesting part. How many girls have you courted? Danced with? Dangled ribbons and baubles in front of to get their attention?”

“That’s different,” Christopher argued. “I have sullied nobody’s honor.”

“None but your own, if this little encounter is anything to go by. If the rumors say it is true already, you might as well do it.”

“I disagree with your logic,” Christopher said, waving a hand at the bartender to bring them two more drinks. “I ought to be a saint as far as I can be in all areas of conduct, so that Juliana might find me worthy.”

“That ship is sailed, friend,” Jasper said. “There are so many more on the ocean, and we happen to be in a harbor. There are so many beautiful young women here in this town, just waiting to be plucked. They expect it, in fact. We ought to spend this time living up to our possibilities as young military officers.”

“How should you mean?”

“The girls want to be swept off their feet, courted, and induced to wickedness,” Jasper said, raising his newly filled mug. “Who are we to deny that to them?”

“You tried to seduce my sister,” Christopher remembered, squinting at the other man. “That was unsporting.”

“All in the fun of it; and she did not lose her honor after all,” Jasper said, clapping him on the arm. “Nothing lost, no damage done. She’ll settle down now with a boring gentleman like a good girl, and all because she got the wickedness out of her system with me.”

“You credit yourself with that?” Christopher asked incredulously. “With finding her an honest match?”

“Of course! It is a service that I do here. All young women have a streak of the wicked inside them. They want just to let it out a single time, and then they can be good as lambs for their families.”

Christopher, by now halfway down his third flagon, considered this with his eyes narrowed. “What you say is that you are actually helping, by trying to lead them astray?”

“You have it!” Jasper said. “It is a good act! We need to have no shame in it.”

Christopher mulled this over some more. “In point of fact, what you claim is that you provide a civic service to the good families of the area, helping them to marry their daughters off to far better candidates than the ones they first fall for.”

“Precisely,” Jasper said. “No woman should marry her first love. It isn’t good for them. She ought to have had her heart broken at least once. It’s all part of the natural development of the soul.”

“Caring for the souls of others is a deeply spiritual and selfless duty,” Christopher pointed out. “We’re told as much at church.”

“Right,” Jasper nodded. “It’s a holy service. Tempting them with the ways of the devil so that they may be stronger in their commitment to God afterward.”

“You consider yourself the devil?” Christopher said, laughing and spraying beer over the table.

“I have been called as such by many a father,” Jasper said modestly. “But I am only a servant and tool of our community. Remember, this is a holy and civic service.”

By the time he had drunk so much that he was thrown from the tavern and into the street, and had to stagger his way home with his arm around Jasper’s shoulders, Christopher had started considering that perhaps Jasper’s idea and way of life made sense.

Jasper had the right of it – Jasper had always had the right of it! And because of it, Jasper was never in pain. Not like the pain that Christopher was in now.

The kind that he could still feel even in his muddled state.

Chapter 6

“I do not think he thinks of me at all,” Juliana complained, lifting her hand to see how the early afternoon sun played over her fingers.

“It has hardly been a long wait,” Mary chided her. “Have patience. I imagine that he will write to you soon.”

“But we expected to meet here in Bath,” Juliana said, sighing and stepping around the corner of the garden’s path. The garden at Mrs. Reffern’s house was far smaller than the grounds at the Prighton estate, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

“Look at this darling rosebush,” Mary said, stopping and bending her head to inhale the fragrance of a particular pink flower that they were passing by.

Juliana, who was attached to her through their linked arms, was forced to stop too. She waited impatiently for Mary to be done, wondering how on earth the girl could think of flowers when her best friend was facing such a disaster.

“It is just a pink rose. We have those in Prighton.”

“But see how the color fades across the petals,” Mary said wistfully, turning the flower this way and that to admire it. “It is quite beautiful.”

Juliana gave an impatient toss of her head and stepped forward, pulling Mary away with force. “It is the same as it was the last three times we walked this square.”

“Some things are not noticed until the third time of looking,” Mary said reasonably, trotting forward to catch up.

“Well, I should not like to be one of those,” Juliana said haughtily. “How dull, to have to wait so long before your beauty is acknowledged.”

“You are lucky, Juliana,” Mary said quietly. “Some of us have no beauty to be noticed at all.”

“Some of you do not believe you have the beauty to be noticed,” Juliana corrected, as she always did. Her friend was beautiful in her eyes.

“Belief does not make fact. Moreover, in the eyes of many, a good birth is more important than beauty. Both you and I can proudly claim that we come from great families.”

“Yes, but neither one of us has a title at the moment,” Mary said. “Unless of course, we marry a titled man.”

“But, Mary, you must listen. We keep getting distracted from our true topic. It is not a duke I want to marry at all,” Juliana protested. She already had her sights set on the man she wanted, so why bother to discuss anyone else?

“Soldiers are not always known for their skill with writing letters,” Mary noted. “I should think it possible that the Lieutenant has simply been busy with maneuvers.”

“Manoeuvres?”

“I heard Father say it recently while talking with one of his friends,” Mary giggled. “I have not the faintest idea what it means, but doesn’t it sound like such a wonderful military word?”

“Oh, you are such a silly thing,” Juliana laughed, in spite of herself. “I do like the word. But that cannot be the case. Christopher is always so good with his letters. He expresses himself wonderfully, and his penmanship is quite beautiful. When I read them, sometimes they make me want to weep.”

“Surely that indicates that they are bad,” Mary shuddered. “I should not think it a good thing that a man made me want to weep.”

“You have no imagination,” Juliana told her friend. “He is so sweet and kind, and showers me with compliments. They bring tears to my eye at how delicate and well-formed they are, tears of delight. The compliments I enjoy most of all. They are like food to me, and lately I am fairly starving.”

“Well, at least you have a dutiful friend in me to tell you that the sun shines through your hair like a dark jewel, and that your eyes are twin stars,” Mary said teasingly.

“And I can even offer compliments as to your taste in dress that no man would ever think to utter.”

Juliana patted Mary’s hand where it linked through her arm. “I wish you wouldn’t quote back to me the things I told you in confidence that he wrote to me. But you are quite right. I am indeed grateful that my aunt and my mother agreed you would be allowed to stay here with me.”

“And on my part, I am glad that my mother and father found no objection,” Mary added. “It would have been a terribly dull spring without your company. I fear they are preparing to introduce me to a suitor.”

“Oh, how awful!” Juliana exclaimed, letting her mind follow the idea as they turned onto the final stretch of path leading back to the house. “If you are married, then we shall no longer be able to stroll together each day.”

“You might come and visit with me,” Mary smiled. “We can stroll at least a few days out of the year. It is not so terrible. I shall miss things as they are, but sooner or later we must both take a husband. And then we will have new grounds to stroll, which might be at least a little exciting.”

Juliana hardly heard the rest of her words, as she was back to her favorite topic again. “Though I wait here in vain for my husband to appear, like a silly, abandoned child.”

“I do not think abandoned children are known for waiting for suitors,” Mary said, cocking her head thoughtfully.

She trailed her hand absent-mindedly through the hanging leaves of a handsome willow tree that shaded a bench at the side of the path. “Rather, surely they are wanting for parents.”

“Mary, you are impossible sometimes,” Juliana said. “Come, let us go inside. I tire of this same view. I cannot bear to go by that rosebush again today.”

Mary acquiesced with a nod of her head, and the two girls returned to the interior of the house instead of beginning another circle.

Their eyes were just adjusting to the darker light inside of the walls when they met a servant in the hall.

“There are no letters for me?” Juliana asked.

“No, my lady,” the maid said, dropping her eyes to the floor. She shifted awkwardly, twisting one of her feet where she stood. “I believe the gentleman you were waiting for has come to visit.”

“He’s here?” Juliana gasped, starting forward. “Where is he? In the sitting room?”

“No – beg pardon, my lady,” the maid said, still refusing to look up as she called her back. “Mrs. Reffern spoke with him while you was both in the garden. She told him you wasn’t here and he went away.”

“Were both, and weren’t here,” Mary corrected quietly.

“What?” Juliana asked. It was like all of the blood in her body had rushed to her head, and she felt quite faint. “He is gone?”

“Yes, my lady. He went out into the street again. I believe he came by horse.”

Juliana hesitated for only a moment, then gathered her skirts in her clenched fists and ran for the door.

Mary was calling after her, but she did not care. She hurtled out of the front door and down the path, then through the gates to the street. She looked left and right, but could not see him at all.

There was no time to think about propriety. If she stopped to consider whether it was quite right for a young lady to raise her skirts off the floor and dash after a man, she would not be able to do it. And there was no single moment to lose – who knew how far he might have gone already?

Taking a chance, she ran to her right, thinking that this was the direction of the house in which he usually stayed in Bath.

She ran headlong, using one hand to hold her bonnet tightly to her head, her skirts rustling behind her as she let them loose. She could only hope that she would not trip over them.

More than once she almost barrelled into someone coming the other way and had to dodge at the last minute; and before long she realized that her pursuit was not only dangerous, but also pointless.

Christopher could have gone this way, another way. He could, in short, have been anywhere.

Juliana stopped, looking in all directions and spinning in position. She could see nothing except the concerned faces of passers-by, strangers who were no doubt startled by this running girl in their midst. She could not blame them. If it were anyone else, she would have been startled too.

But there was nothing for it. No sight of him – no hint even of the red jacker of a soldier. No one to ask, and no one to help her find him. In truth, she did not even know if he intended to stay at the same lodgings as he had occupied last season. They had not discussed it.

Trying to catch her breath, Juliana turned miserably and began to walk back to the house, ignoring those who asked if she was in need of assistance. Soon she left behind those who had seen her run, and she was just one more unchaperoned girl.

That earned her a few glances in itself, but no one pried. They might have thought her chaperone was simply walking near her without a word.

She was halfway back when she came upon Mary and the maid, both of whom looked the very picture of worry. If it was any other situation, Juliana might have laughed at the looks on their faces.

“Did you find him?” Mary asked.

“Of course not,” Juliana said crossly, stamping her foot to let out some of the emotion that she felt. “Mrs. Reffern has driven him away. Now what am I supposed to do?”

Chapter 7

“This is exactly what you need,” Jasper said, leaning over to fix and straighten Christopher’s epaulets.

“If you’re quite sure,” Christopher sighed. “After last night, all I really want to do is stay inside and sleep.”

“Nonsense,” Jasper told him. “You can sleep when we’re back in the barracks without another break in sight. After this visit we’re right into Operation Captaincy, remember? This is our last chance to have some fun.”

“Not our last chance ever, I hope,” Christopher said. With the maudlin way things were turning out lately, it almost felt as though that might be the case.

“No more hesitation,” Jasper said, standing up and hopping down from the coach. He leaned his head back in to finish his thought. “You’re an officer. Lead with confidence and courage. Come into battle with me!”

Christopher couldn’t help but laugh, and he climbed down from the coach alongside him. Ahead of them lay Bath’s hall, where many ladies would be gathering that night for dancing.

Around them, other soldiers were making their way towards it, as well as gentlemen dressed in the latest fashions and older men escorting their daughters.

“It’s a fine night for it,” Jasper said cheerfully, taking a deep breath of the clear air. It was neither too warm nor too cold, and Christopher found that he had to agree.

They headed inside, and were met with a burst of noise from the musicians at the far end of the hall. Already, several young couples were dancing on the floor, while around the corners of the room men and women sipped at drinks or sat to talk.

“Here we are,” Jasper said, pulling him over to a table from which they could pick a drink of their own. “Come, now. Here’s to having a good time.”

“To having a good time,” Christopher said, echoing his friend’s toast as they took their first drink.

“It seems that lilac is the color this season,” Jasper said, looking around at the young women who were in the room already or joining the gathering by the minute. Almost all of them wore some variation on the shade, excepting a few who stood out in last season’s dresses.

“I do not envy them,” Christopher said, shaking his head. “So much effort to keep up with the trends, and for what? Only to look like everyone else. While we have our own uniform picked out for us, and it marks us out just fine.”

“I like it,” Jasper said. “It makes those ones who are not up to date with the fashions feel as though they have performed miserably, and that makes them all the more susceptible to my charms.”

“You are incorrigible,” Christopher said, and meant it.

“Lieutenants,” a voice came from behind them. They turned to see Major Jeffords, who was in full regalia and surrounded by a posse of young women already.

“Major,” Jasper greeted him with a salute, at much the same time as Christopher. “How are you this fine evening?”

“Very well,” Jeffords nodded, his mustache moving up and down with his words. “I have been badgered incessantly since the moment you came in to arrange an introduction with my young friends here.”

Jasper laughed, and Christopher found it in himself to smile. Things were looking up already, weren’t they? Perhaps Jasper was right about needing to simply enjoy himself.

One by one the young ladies were introduced, with the necessary bows and scrapes, though their names went almost immediately into Christopher’s left ear and out of his right again. At least two of them were called Elizabeth, which seemed unnecessarily confusing, and another two were sisters.

“And this is Miss Kitty White,” Jeffords finished, proffering a final young woman with hair the color of autumn leaves.

She gave him a smile that was anything but shy, and suddenly Christopher found himself paying a little more attention.

“Tell us, is it terribly lonely being in the military?” one of the sisters asked. “You are so isolated out there without your family or any young ladies at all.”

“We get by,” Jasper said, flashing her a smile. “Of course, the heart pines. But it is ever so gratifying to receive a letter from a beloved. Some of the men will even hang a portrait of their intended in the barracks to remind them of what they fight for.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” one of the other girls exclaimed.

“And do you have an intended, Lieutenant Rivers?” an Elizabeth asked.

“No, no,” Jasper said, doing an admirable job of pretending to be bashful. “I am a sorry singleton, I am sad to say.”

“Will you dance with us?” asked the second Elizabeth.

“All of us?” put in the sister, as quickly as she could.

“My fair ladies,” Jasper said, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I am at your service. Please, tell me where you need me to be and I will be there.”

“And you, Lieutenant Hardwicke?” asked Kitty White, prompting all of the girls to turn to him at once with beseeching eyes.

“Yes, of course,” Christopher agreed, quite beset by them. “How could I refuse so many delightful ladies?”

“Don’t forget about me,” Major Jeffords protested.

“Oh, but Major, surely you will dance with your wife?” put in Kitty.

Jeffords turned an entertaining shade of pink. “Well, of course,” he muttered, trying to backpedal quickly.

“Then we shall not invoke her jealousy by trying to steal you for ourselves,” Kitty informed him, turning her large, dark eyes back towards Christopher. “We shall set our sights on available officers only.”

After two mostly forgettable, but nonetheless enjoyable, dances with one of the Elizabeths and another young lady, Christopher found himself cornered by Kitty, who demanded that it should be her turn.

“It’s rather inhospitable of you to leave a young lady without a dancing partner, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Quite right,” Christopher said, bowing. “Please forgive me, Miss Kitty. I shall endeavor not to make this same mistake again.”

“Good,” Kitty said, and then clapped her hands in glee at hearing what dance was to be next. “Oh, I do so enjoy this one. Come, let’s take our places!”

Christopher did as he was told, and they were not five steps into the dance before he turned and saw a familiar shape entering the hall.

At that moment he faltered, missed his footing, and found himself standing stock still whilst the dance continued around him.

“What are you doing?” Kitty hissed, just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re falling behind!”

“Oh,” Christopher said, looking around him to get his bearings and joining the steps once more. “My apologies.”

“Who is she, then?” Kitty asked. There was a level of bitterness in her voice that Christopher had not anticipated.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Whoever it is that has you distracted from me,” Kitty said.

“I was simply taken aback,” Christopher said, shaking his head. “I had heard tell that she was not in Bath at all this season. I suppose it must have been a lie.”

“A lie? Told to you by a love rival?” Kitty asked, her eyes sparking up. She evidently found the idea quite exciting.

“No,” Christopher said, musing on it as he mechanically followed the steps of the dance. “It was her own aunt, the very lady with whom she stays in town. And she told me this lie yesterday. I do not think it possible that she thought it the truth.”

“Then the lady is no longer interested in your pursuit,” Kitty said.

“You think so?” Christopher frowned.

Kitty stepped towards him in time with the other dancers around them.

“Trust me,” she said. “It is how we women think. She is trying to tell you that she does not want your attentions without having to say it to your face. She was probably behind a door somewhere, sniggering as her aunt did as instructed.”

The mental image was cruel. Christopher felt almost as if he had been dealt a blow. “We were supposed to meet, here in Bath,” he said feebly.

“Ah, so you have known her from before. Then certainly, I should ask whether she has ever dismissed your attentions before.”

Christopher hesitated, and his mouth twitched at the corner. “I suppose you are very well-intuited,” he admitted. “In fact, last year when I had thought to court her, she gave her hand to another.”

Kitty almost stopped dancing in shock. “Then you were pursuing another man’s bride?”

“No, she called off that betrothal,” Christopher said.

“Ah. Then we have it right. She is a minx, no more. You are better spending time away from such women,” Kitty said, giving him a warm and inviting smile as the music ended. “You should spend it instead with those of us who are willing to be courted.”

Christopher hesitated, and looked around. He caught sight of Juliana then, and saw that she was watching him. Not only that, but she did so with a sour expression, and her arms crossed over her chest.

“To that end,” he said smoothly, returning Kitty’s smile. “Might we go sit and talk for a while? I am quite parched, and you should rest your feet now and then.”

“Of course,” Kitty acquiesced, holding out her arm.

Christopher took the hint and the arm both, and escorted her to where they might take a drink and find a seat. As they went, he looked over his shoulder, and saw Juliana watching them still.

Well, good! Perhaps this would be a dose of her own medicine. She had done nothing but infuriate him and make him jealous with that damned Lord Drevon, and paraded him like a prized cow.

Christopher would not accept that she could play with his emotions, leading him on and then turning him down.

So, this was how she wanted it, and this was how it would be. He knew Juliana well, and he knew that she hated the thought of sharing anything. She had been that way from girlhood, with two older sisters always vying to take away her toys.

There was no better tactic he could think of than to make her jealous with a pretty young woman.

And Kitty was pretty, truly. Her blazing hair was matched with delicate features, and a smattering of freckles across her nose which were not at all unflattering. Together with her large, dark eyes and a rather attractive figure under her lilac dress, Christopher knew that he could do far worse.

“Have you ever been called Kit?” Kitty asked as they sat. “I hear it is a nickname for Christophers, from time to time.”

“I confess I have not,” Christopher said, a smile playing around his lips.

“Imagine if you were,” Kitty said, and threw back her head to laugh. “Kit and Kitty. What a pair we would make!”

“A regular pair,” Christopher agreed, shaking his head with mirth. “We should be the very life of any ball.”

“All that would be missing is a daughter named Kat,” Kitty laughed.

“For Katherine, or for Caitlyn?”

“I have not heard the name Caitlyn.”

“It is Irish, I believe.”

“Oh, you soldiers do encounter such interesting knowledge!” Kitty exclaimed. “Did you learn that on your travels?”

Christopher laughed. “I have not traveled anywhere with the army, not just yet,” he said. “We are not needed in battle in another country at present. I traveled some with my family when I was a boy.”

“Were you born into a noble family, Lieutenant?”

“As a matter of fact, I was,” Christopher said. “My brother is now an earl. I am a second son, however.”

Kitty clapped her hands with glee all the same. “An officer and a lord!” she said. “I wonder that you have not been snatched up by some eligible young lady already.”

Christopher felt an inkling that he should perhaps have been concerned at the joy with which Kitty met the news of his status.

However, it was a point of pride for him, and he was pleased to have it displayed. Not all officers were born well, after all. Some of them actually had to earn their commissions, as Jasper had.

“It is a mystery,” Christopher agreed, leaning slightly closer to her. “Perhaps this is the very night on which I will find my bride.”

“Perhaps it is,” Kitty giggled, but a shadow had fallen over her.

She looked up and blinked, and Christopher turned his head to see who it was. His mouth fell open with a total loss of all words, however, when he saw that it was Juliana.

“Lieutenant Hardwicke,” Juliana said coldly.

“Lady Juliana,” Christopher responded.

He hesitated. What was that fire in her eyes? Had he done the wrong thing? Well, of course he had wanted her to be jealous, but there seemed to be no reason for her to be angry.

Juliana waited, looking at him. Then she turned her gaze over to the center of the floor, and back at him, tossing her head and sighing impatiently.

Christopher was not so stupid that he did not get the hint. “Perhaps you would do me the honor of allowing me the next dance?” he suggested.

“I would,” she said, though her tone implied that she did it with reluctance – and that she was offended at having been made to wait so long.

“If you will excuse me, Miss Kitty,” Christopher said apologetically, getting up and trailing after Juliana to the floor. Kitty pouted admirably, but in truth, she was no match for the woman he now followed – even if she was displeased with him.

They bowed and curtsied to one another as was customary, and the first stirrings of the music prompted them to begin their assigned movements. Christopher looked into Juliana’s face with caution, but everything there seemed hard edges and cold stone.

“Are you quite well?” he ventured after they had gone a number of steps without any communication whatsoever.

“I am in good health,” Juliana said, almost spitting out the words. The edge to her voice remained, and Christopher understood that he was walking upon unstable ground.

“And in good humor?” he asked, wincing as he did so. He knew what the answer was, but his real question was as to the why.

“I am quite upset,” Juliana declared. “One finds that emotion when an agreed-upon meeting is eschewed and forgotten.”

“But,” Christopher began, then floundered for a moment as to which way he should continue. Thank goodness that the dance was one he knew well, he thought. If they could only give him the steps to this conversation, he would follow those as well.

“There can be no excuse, Lieutenant. I was awaiting your greeting for quite some time. I know you saw me enter.”

“But I was told you were not to be here at all,” Christopher managed. “You would have had me return to the barracks disappointed, rather than discover that you were here.”

“Why should I want such a thing?” Juliana demanded. “It was I who wrote to you, inviting this meeting.”

“It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,” Christopher said darkly. At that moment he had but one idea in his head: that she meant to play with him. And if that were so, he would not allow himself to be a mere plaything. He had more pride than that.

He was Christopher Hardwicke, and if she did not want his affections, then she would not get them. She would not see him fawning and begging for attention that he would not be allowed to get!

Chapter 8

“It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,” Christopher said, giving her such a meaningful look that she could not help but be cut to the core.

So, he wanted her to change her mind, did he? Well! She would not beg him to like her. No, such a thing was beneath her – and it was not as though she was lacking in marriage proposals already. Leaving one courtship behind would not disadvantage her at all.

“And a man’s also,” she countered. She would force him to admit what he truly meant even if it injured her. “It merely takes a brave one to state when it is the case.”

“Why should you believe that my mind has been changed?” Christopher asked. There was no trace of affection in his tone, and she almost wanted to laugh. Right there was his answer – the fact that no man who loved her should speak in such a way.

And he had implied it himself – himself! Not one moment ago! She barely knew which way to attack him first. It all overwhelmed her, and she returned to the thing that had had her stomping over to him in the first place.

“All it took was one announcement that I was not present,” Juliana said, displaying her hurt for him to see and for the moment not caring that he would. “You were quick to abandon thoughts of me and dance with another. I saw you laughing together with that common girl. I wonder how many others you have talked to when I am not by your side? Do you attempt to win over as many girls as possible to see which will give you the better match when you are ready to marry?”

“Why should I retain thoughts of one who has already made it clear that they have no affections for me?” Christopher shot back. His face had quite changed, and it was fierce now. She barely recognized the young officer she had been expecting. “You played a deliberate trick on me, having your aunt inform me that you were not here.”

“I did no such thing!” Juliana gasped. People around them were beginning to turn and look. “I had to argue my case to be allowed to come here so that I might meet you. You do not know how perilously close I was to being forced to stay home.”

“How terrible it would have been for you to miss the chance to socialize,” Christopher sneered. “After all, that is your real interest here – the reason you have been coming since before we met. It is nothing to do with me at all.”

“I don’t know why you are so pig-headed,” Juliana said. She was running out of ways to tell him that he was wrong.

“I don’t know why you deliberately torment me so,” Christopher retorted. They were both out of time with the music now, stumbling rather than dancing, too angry to keep up. “I am only a toy to you. A plaything that you may mistreat as you like, to be discarded as a thing of the past when you take a husband.”

Juliana stopped dancing altogether, glaring at him. “If you think so little of me, sir, then I wonder why you bothered to come at all.”

With those words, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

She could not bear the thought that not only had he insulted her so, and tarried with another girl, but also that everyone had seen. They had seen, also, how much it affected her. She had never in her life missed a step during a public dance. He was making a fool of her, that much was clear. What was also clear to her was that she could not allow it.

If he wanted things to be this way, well, so be it. She would not speak to him again. She would not think of him. He could not hurt her like this and get away with it so easily.

Juliana carried on marching across the hall, right the way to the exit. She did not wait or look for her aunt, or for Mary; she simply walked all the way outside, steadily and with the same pace, continued around the side of the building, and only then stopped.

There was a small stone step leading down from an old doorway which was no longer in use. Here, no one could see her. No one was there to watch. Juliana sank down onto it, buried her head in her hands, and cried.

“Did he say something truly awful?”

Juliana was not at all surprised to hear her dear friend’s voice nearby. She nodded without raising her head, and soon felt the warmth of Mary’s body sitting down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me all about it,” Mary said gently.

Juliana’s shoulders rose and fell as she cried. After a short while, however, she was able to get her breath back a little.

“He accused me of tricking him on purpose,” she said, her words coming scattered between sobs. “He was talking to another girl, and I saw them dancing together. They were laughing and smiling at their own little jokes.”

“I saw her too,” Mary admitted. She paused a second, and then added: “I thought she was nowhere near as pretty as you.”

Juliana coughed out a laugh that was smattered still with tears. “You are a good friend.”

“But I am not a liar,” Mary said. “I truly mean it. What else?”

“He thinks I made Aunt Bertha tell him I wasn’t here so that he would go home, and I would have leave to dance and be courted by other men.”

“That’s preposterous,” Mary said. “Did you tell him it was preposterous?”

“I told him he was wrong,” Juliana said, lifting her head and wiping at her face with her hands. “He wouldn’t listen to me. And he just went after that girl, as soon as he thought I was not here. Oh, it stings!”

“Are you more upset by his words? Or that he was with another?”

Juliana thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “Oh, this is all so miserable. I hoped and waited for this. I so wanted to dance with him again. I even lied to the Duke and my mother.”

“Yes, that line about her being strict was quite far from the truth,” Mary chuckled. “I do not believe Mrs. Reffern has even noticed yet that we are gone.”

“She most certainly has,” came a stern voice from the far end of the wall.

Both girls looked up to see Aunt Bertha standing there, silhouetted against the lamps burning to light the entrance to the hall.

“What are you two doing out here?” Aunt Bertha asked, walking closer to them with a frown.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Reffern,” Mary said quickly. “We needed to get out of the hall for a while.”

“We?” Aunt Bertha repeated.

Mary lowered her eyes to the floor only, not wanting to betray her friend’s confidence.

“I,” Juliana admitted, saving her from the dilemma. “I stumbled on the dance and everyone saw me. I forgot the steps. They were all watching.”

Aunt Bertha’s face softened somewhat, though she still tutted. “Silly girl,” she said. “Is that all? You’ve more vanity than sense, you young things.”

“Please, Aunt Bertha,” Juliana said. “I can’t go back in there. Might we go home?”

“Is this what you want too, Lady Mary?” Aunt Bertha asked. “You are our guest as well, after all. But I cannot chaperone both of you if one stays.”

“I am happy to leave, Mrs. Reffern,” Mary said quickly. “Thank you for thinking of me, but I don’t wish to be an inconvenience. Besides, Juliana is my friend. I should stay by her side when she is upset.”

“You are a loyal one,” Aunt Bertha nodded. “Come, then. I’ll call for the coach, and we’ll return home.”

She strode away, off in search of their transport, and Mary helped Juliana to her feet. They both brushed at the fine fabric of their dresses, hoping to dislodge any dirt that might have clung to them from the step.

“Are you going to be alright?” Mary asked her.

“Yes. I suppose I must,” Juliana said.

“Why did you not tell her the truth?”

Juliana hesitated. “They already think so badly of him,” she said.

“Then you love him still,” Mary said. “You have hope that you will be able to mend your differences.”

“I don’t know.”

“You do,” Mary said, with a smile on her lips. “Or you would not seek to spare his reputation.”

“Perhaps,” Juliana said, shrugging and returning a smile on her tear-stained face. She gave a short laugh. “I do not know what kind of laws govern my heart, but they seem to be contrary ones.”

Mary laughed in return, and pulled her friend into a tight embrace for a moment. “Come now,” she said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “Let us get home and to bed. In the morning, things won’t seem quite so bleak.”

Chapter 9

The next morning, indeed, there was a change in the air.

“Ladies,” Aunt Bertha announced over their breakfast meal. “I shall ask you to prepare yourselves to receive guests this evening. We shall be hosting another party.”

Juliana felt a surge of excitement. “Who will it be?” she asked.

“Never you mind that,” Aunt Bertha said, popping a small bite into her mouth and swallowing it whole. “They are to stay with us for some while, so your first impressions ought to be good ones. I expect you done and dressed for dinner in fine gowns tonight, and on time.”

Mary and Juliana both agreed that they would be, and as soon as they were excused, they flocked to the garden to sit on a bench seat there and discuss the mysterious visitors.

“Who do you imagine it could be?” Mary asked. “I do not know if Aunt Bertha is acquainted with anyone… well, important.”

Juliana laughed. “I might be offended at your talk about my aunt,” she said, then shook her head in amusement when Mary actually looked worried. “If I didn’t think you had it absolutely right.”

“I saw the maids preparing two guest rooms,” Mary continued, with a look of relief. “Does it mean two guests, do you think? It could be more. They might be sharing rooms – a husband and wife, or sisters, or so on.”

“And I saw them polishing the best silver yesterday,” Juliana remembered. “It must have been special preparations. They knew it even before we did!”

“Should we ask them who it is?” Mary whispered.

Juliana laughed, lowering her voice the same. “You are so mischievous, Lady Mary! We shall get them into trouble if they tell us, and my aunt wants us not to know.”

“Perhaps they don’t know either,” Mary said. “I wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble. I suppose it’s best not to ask.”

“You’re too much of a kind soul,” Juliana told her. “But come. We must be able to make our own best guesses.”

“Perhaps it is an elderly relative,” Mary suggested, giving a grin that told Juliana all she needed to know.

“You’re so wicked!” Juliana giggled. “How awful that would be! I think it is a visiting duke coming with his eligible sons to find a bride.”

“I thought you did not want for a husband?” Mary asked, with her eyebrows raised.

“Don’t be silly - the sons are for you. You can have your pick of them!”

Mary blushed red at the suggestion, and covered her mouth to laugh. “But what if they are intended for you?”

“Then we shall send them away. Perhaps they will be all the daughters of a local lord, sent here to be our erstwhile companions.”

“Do we want for companions?” Mary asked, pursing her lips as she considered it.

“No, we shall send them away as well,” Juliana declared. “I will tell them I only have need for my one true friend in the world, and their services are not required.”

“What if they are soldiers, come to protect us from the evils of Bath’s halls?” Mary asked.

Juliana’s eyes shone as she considered the notion. “Perhaps it is Christopher and that friend from his regiment that he always travels with.”

“Do you really think it could be?” Mary asked. “But your aunt…”

“Perhaps he came to beg her after my departure last night,” Juliana rushed on. “After all, it took her so long to notice that we were gone. She’s supposed to watch my every move, as my chaperone. She may not be as strict as we made out, but she is certainly watchful.”

“I think she was just talking and failed to see us leave,” Mary said doubtfully.

“Nonsense! She must have been about to leave when Christopher stopped her. He would have told her he was sorry and wanted the chance to make it up to me. And then he would have given her some eloquent speech to convince her to allow it.”

“But your aunt knows that the Duke and Duchess are against it,” Mary protested again.

“Mary, you are ruining all my fun. Please, listen carefully. I have explained already. Christopher’s speech was so eloquent that she changed her mind, and she knows he will change their minds too.”

“Sorry,” Mary said, having the sense to look bashful.

“The friend will come along both for decency’s sake and perhaps as a match for you, Mary. He’s a lieutenant too, you know. Rivers, I believe.”

Mary twisted her mouth. “Rivers? He is no nobleman.”

“No, but how exciting!” Juliana said. “You may let him court you for a time. It will be practice for the real thing. I bet he will be all rough and uncouth, and say things to you that are most outside the bounds of propriety!”

“Juliana!” Mary said, red to the ends of her ears. “How awful! If he said such things to me, I would scream!”

They laughed, Mary from awkwardness and nerves and Juliana from pleasure at teasing her so. At last, she relented, and put an arm about her friend’s shoulders.

“No, you saved me last night,” she said. “So if this Rivers comes for you, I shall save you in return. That is, if you’re absolutely sure that you want me to.”

Mary nodded emphatically, causing them both to fall into giggles once more.

The day seemed both interminably slow as they waited to find out the answer to their mystery, and so fast that they had not enough time to prepare. Juliana carefully selected a gown for the dinner, and told the maid to spend extra time on her hair so that she should look as beautiful as possible for the visitors.

If it was Christopher, after all, she could not risk him seeing her looking less than her best. Particularly as he was to come to grovel for her forgiveness.

Her disappointment was almost entirely unmatched when they came down to the dinner table, having heard much opening and closing of doors throughout the household, to find only an old woman and a man she did not recognize.

“Lady Juliana Reffern and Lady Mary Westenholme,” Aunt Bertha announced with some delight. “My charges, while they are here in Bath.”

Mary and Juliana both dipped into curtsies, though neither of them could hide the confusion or uncertainty on their faces.

“And, ladies, allow me to introduce you to our guests,” Aunt Bertha continued, undeterred. “This is the Lady Ascot, and her son Mr. John Woode, who I believe is a cousin of yours, Lady Juliana.”

“A cousin?” Juliana repeated. She was running through her family tree in her mind. Aunt Bertha had no children, and she knew all the cousins she had on her father’s side.

“Quite distantly,” John said, giving her an awkward smile and a short bow. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Both of you, that is.”

“Very kind of you, sir,” Mary murmured.

“Are we done with the pleasantries?” Lady Ascot, a formidable woman with grey hair and a back straighter than a ruler, barked. “We have traveled a long way. I should not like to wait any longer for some victuals.”

“Do follow me,” Aunt Bertha said graciously, taking no offense, it seemed, at her guest’s manner.

The Baroness followed her with John close at her side. Exchanging a glance, the girls trailed into the dining room in their turn, each wondering what on earth they were in for.

The food was served as soon as they were settled. Aunt Bertha was obviously anxious not to displease their guest. And well she might be, since she was far outranked by the Baroness. Even had it not been the case, the Baroness had the air about her of a woman who was not to be disobeyed.

“What brings you to Bath, my lady?” Juliana asked politely as they enjoyed their first course.

“John is not my first son,” the old woman said. Her voice was such that even innocent words sounded sharp. “His brother will inherit the estate, and thus he must make himself useful in another way. He is to enter the clergy forthwith.”

Juliana looked at John with some surprise. Privately, she thought to herself that he was old to be embarking on such an endeavor. His hair was thinning around the temples already.

She waited, but there was no more said. “I’m sorry, my lady,” Juliana said, flushing a little at having to admit her ignorance. “I don’t follow.”

“He is looking for a position, of course,” Lady Ascot said, with an air about her as if Juliana had asked the most stupid question in the entire world. “We are here to assess a nearby rectory and decide if it will be suitable for him. It has been offered to him, if he wishes to take it. All that remains is for us to choose.”

There was a short pause. Juliana did not feel brave enough to offer any follow-up questions, nor even to speak in acknowledgment of the facts. The Baroness, it seemed, did not expect a reply.

“Do you not have a wife to accompany you in choosing?” Mary asked. Then she turned an interesting shade of pink and tried to undo her words immediately. “Not that the Baroness is a poor choice of companion – I am sure she is far wiser than any other you would take with you – I only meant…”

“I know what you meant,” John assured her, smiling. “No, I am not yet married.”

He paused meaningfully after this statement, and looked straight at Juliana. Resisting the urge to squawk in alarm, she instead turned her face down to her plate and began hurriedly busying herself with the task of eating.

“We will stay a while,” Lady Ascot announced. “A few weeks, at the least. Enough time to view the rectory and make certain choices. Perhaps while we are here, we might also discover a wife for my son.”

These words were even more pointed than John’s expression, and Juliana kept her face buried as much as she could. She did not want to make the kind of faux pas which would result from them noting the look of distaste she could not help but wear, nor the alarm that accompanied it.

Marry this man? This distant cousin of hers who was no more than a clergyman? No, she would not! It was not a position for her at all. Not only that, but the man was… old. Did it mean he had some sort of defect that he had avoided finding a wife until his hair was beginning to disappear?

Aunt Bertha soon steered the conversation towards other matters, for which Juliana was grateful. She could easily and without concern discuss the fashions of the day, the balls held over the winter that she had attended, and the delights that Bath had to offer. She could even quite happily recommend which shops Lady Ascot might want to visit for this alteration or that fabric.

But she could not, and would not, discuss any further the possibility of marriage to John Woode.

That night in her bed, she lay awake, staring up at the dim impression of the ceiling above her in the darkness.

The longer she lay awake for, the more indignant she became.

How could she have missed all this? She had thought to pull the wool over her parents’ eyes in coming here, and all along it was her who had been hoodwinked. They had given her a stricter chaperone after all: there was no chance Lady Ascot was the kind of woman who could be avoided.

And it was no coincidence at all, for John Woode to arrive in his search for a wife just a short while after her visit began. Their presence in the house would coincide almost in its entirety, which meant she was to spend the whole of her spring pandering to this old woman and her son.

All of this, and no word from Christopher either!

What a spring it was turning out to be – very far indeed for the magical time which Juliana had expected. She tossed and turned with one sigh after another, wondering if she would ever be able to sleep again before she returned home with such thoughts on her mind.

Chapter 10

The air was fine, and there was a scent of flowers everywhere above the park. Though the spring sun was not yet as fierce as it would be in months to come, it had already risen its head. It was as good a day as any to join the throngs of young people gathered to picnic and chatter together.

The park was already quite crowded, with matrons seated on white stiff-backed chairs and watching over their charges. Young women and men both sat neatly on blankets spread across the fresh grass, serving themselves tea and pastries out of hampers.

Everywhere was a riot of color. The spring blooms that were opening their petals in the scattered flowerbeds were matched by the colorful fabrics stretched out, the ladies in lilacs, pinks, and yellows, and the gentlemen with cravats and waistcoats in the same textiles.

There was space still to sit, and Christopher was heading to an open area with his basket in his hand when he was hailed from afar.

“Lieutenant! Over here! Come, sit with us!”

Christopher turned to see Kitty White waving at him, her red hair tucked neatly away inside her bonnet. She was dressed in lilac, and her bonnet wore ribbons of the same color.

Christopher smiled and headed over to sit beside her, taking a space on the blanket that was offered.

“You are quite welcome to join us, Lieutenant,” another young woman said. Christopher recognized her as one of the crowd that Major Jeffords had introduced, though he did not remember her name. “We were quite lacking in officers before you arrived.”

Christopher saw that their group included a couple of young men that he knew from his barracks, though they were privates only. Also with them were a number of young ladies and gentlemen dressed in silks and linens rather than uniform, as well as an older man and woman who were no doubt chaperoning some of the gathering.

“I do not believe I am acquainted with all of your friends, Miss Kitty,” Christopher said, and another round of introductions was made. None of them were particularly memorable. He soon discovered he was the noblest of births amongst them, for most were simply Misses and Misters.

“Now that that is out of the way,” Kitty said, turning to him with a ferocity that suggested the rest of the day was theirs and theirs alone. “What of your friend, Lieutenant Rivers?”

Christopher winced slightly. There had been some sort of incident in the night, from what he could gather, and Jasper was nowhere to be found this morning. “I do not believe he will be joining us,” he said, which was the most generous he could possibly be.

“I heard he ran off with some girl,” one of the Privates, a Smith, cut in, earning himself a pout from Kitty at the interruption.

“It’s all anyone was talking about this morning,” Officer West added.

“Oh, dear,” Christopher muttered weakly. “Was there any word on what exactly happened?”

“I think she’s a Lady,” Officer Smith said. “I’m not sure which. They all blend into one after a few drinks, don’t they?”

“She’s local,” Kitty said. “I’ve seen her around many times. She’s always been desperate to meet an officer and dance with him. She doesn’t usually have much luck.”

“Isn’t she… an attractive young woman?” Christopher asked, perplexed.

“Oh, she’s fine enough,” Kitty said airily, waving a dismissive hand in the way that only someone who is confident in their superiority can. “But very shy. Awful shy. It took her a year after attending her first ball to even utter a word to a man. She blushes red like a tomato every time she dances.”

Christopher rubbed his forehead. “And Jasper managed to convince her to run away with him in the night?”

“It was right after we all stopped dancing for the night,” Officer Smith said. “She was there with her mother, I think. Next thing we all knew, the mother’s calling for her and can’t find her anywhere.”

“Then Rivers screeches past in a cab,” Officer West guffawed. “The girl in the seat beside him. Everyone saw it. She’ll not have a case at all for saying nothing happened.”

This was troubling. For all his protestations of innocence and the greater good, this was one girl who would not be able to reclaim her reputation. Jasper had done for her no good.

“Will he be forced to marry her, do you think?” the girl from last night asked.

The two privates erupted into further guffaws, explaining all too plainly what they thought the likelihood of that was.

“I don’t suppose you’re terribly interested in talk about your friend,” Kitty said, catching Christopher’s attention while the others went on. “You must hear this kind of thing about him all the time.”

“Yes, that’s quite true,” Christopher said. In both senses; he was much more interested in having a private conversation with Kitty than any kind of talk about Jasper. “It does get a little tedious.”

“So, tell me more about Lieutenant Hardwicke instead,” Kitty said, scooting a little closer to him on the blanket. “You are a much more inviting topic.”

Christopher laughed. “Tell me what you wish to know.”

“Well, what about your family?” Kitty asked. “Do you have any brothers who are as handsome as you are?”

“I have two brothers,” Christopher said, grinning. “But one is a mere lad, and the other is nowhere near as handsome. In fact, he is married, and quite boring.”

“Then I am talking with the best of the bunch,” Kitty said. “How gratifying.”

“And what of your family?” Christopher asked in return.

“I have no sisters,” Kitty smiled. “Though I am not lacking in brothers. In fact, there are times when I think that I have rather too many.”

“Too many?” Christopher raised his eyebrows, and looked about him furtively. “I wonder if I should be worried.”

“Not at all,” Kitty laughed. “I’m afraid my brothers have remained at home this season. Two are married already, and the others work. I am here with a maiden aunt. She works at one of the dressmaking shops in town.”

Of course, he had known that she was not rich; all the same, it was a little startling to hear how Kitty’s family lived. The unmarried ladies he had known were all taken care of by some wealthier family member, or else lived with them and dined on their charity. Working for a living seemed so very vulgar.

“Then does your aunt chaperone you today?” Christopher asked, casting around for someone that might share a characteristic or two that would mark them as related.

“Today, she works,” Kitty laughed. “I come with my group of friends.”

“And do you spend all of your time with them?”

“Not all,” Kitty said, giving him a look that was suggestive enough to make him sit up straighter. “I have some time to spend on my own leisure.”

“You must be very close with your friends,” Christopher commented, attempting nobly to move the conversation back to less indelicate matters.

“I suppose,” Kitty conceded. “Though none of them are half as interesting as you.”

Christopher smiled. “Because I am an officer?”

“Because none of them are quite so handsome,” Kitty replied. “And none of them speak so eloquently.”

Perhaps Jasper was right, Christopher thought. There was certainly something to be said for finding a girl that wanted to compliment you each moment of the day and night. And besides that, Kitty really did seem to have a wicked streak – the one that Jasper had suggested was just waiting to rear its head inside every girl.

“You flatter me, Miss Kitty,” Christopher said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I only speak the truth,” Kitty said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Many of my friends are quite stupid. And none of them are lords like you.”

“So it is only my title that interests you?” Christopher teased.

“It was not your title that caught my eye from across the room, so that I begged Major Jeffords to make an introduction,” Kitty said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I could not ignore such a fine and magnificent officer.”

“Someday soon I aim to become a captain,” Christopher said, figuring he may as well get his dues.

“Won’t that be a marvelous thing?” Kitty cooed. “You’ll be more handsome still with three stars instead of two.”

“And even more so, I dare say, with a crown,” Christopher said, alluding to the symbol given to the rank of Major.

Kitty raised both her eyebrows. “You had better stop there, Lieutenant,” she said softly. “I fear that if you progress any further, you will be simply irresistible to any woman around.”

“You do not wish others to find me so?”

“I do not wish for the competition,” Kitty said.

That was forward, Christopher had to admit. Perhaps Kitty wasn’t in need of being led astray at all. At this rate, it would be her who tempted him off the path of propriety.

“Perhaps we ought to go for a stroll?” Kitty suggested.

“I do not see why not,” Christopher agreed. They could hardly be accused of going unchaperoned since there were so many people sitting all around them. It was a nice day, and some activity now and then would make it all the better.

He stood and offered her his arm, and they began to walk. As they did, Kitty embarked on a running commentary of those they passed, making sly comments about the dress of other ladies or telling him the most scandalous rumors about them.

That was when he caught sight of Juliana.

She wore a white dress embroidered with notes of blue, and blue and white ribbons fluttered around her bonnet in the light breeze. She was sitting merrily perched on a tree stump, just the right height to be comfortable. Alongside her was her ever-present friend Lady Mary Westenholme, and a much older woman whom he did not recognize.

Beside them, sitting on a blanket, was a man in long boots and yellow breeches with a green velvet overcoat. His hair was thinning at the temples and he looked the picture of a dull man, but he was sitting between Mary and Juliana – and his attention was not turned to Mary.

So! It came down to this. Christopher had at last clapped eyes on the man that she had clearly chosen to pursue, abandoning him in the process.

It was easy to see from a glance that the man was wealthy. The elderly woman, who shared clear familial characteristics such as a hooked nose, held the stiff and unflinching posture of the very noble. Christopher surmised easily, then, that she must have decided to marry him for his title.

He wanted to steer Kitty away and head into the opposite direction, but it was not to be. Juliana looked up from her conversation and caught sight of him almost right away, and there was nothing for it then.

His first instinct was to drop Kitty’s arm and try a pretense that they had not been walking together, but it was useless. And besides, he remembered Lord Drevon. He would not be shamed at parading another woman in front of her since she had done the same to him.

Juliana stiffened, and within just a moment she was getting to her feet. They were close enough that he heard her announce something about going for a walk with Lady Mary, who, despite a startled expression, did not protest. Very soon, the two girls were walking arm in arm, and Christopher saw with some alarm that they were taking a circular path designed to coincide with his at a future point.

“Perhaps we ought to go back and sit,” Christopher suggested, with as casual a tone as he could manage.

“And miss the chance to be scolded by that lady again?” Kitty remarked innocently.

Christopher had just enough time to stare at her and catch the impish look she was giving him before they almost collided with Juliana and Mary, who had deliberately walked fast to bump into them.

“Good day, Lieutenant Hardwicke,” Juliana said, in a dangerous tone. “Would you care to introduce us to your friend?”

Christopher cleared his throat nervously. This was somewhat of an impossible situation. “Allow me to present Miss Kitty White,” he said. “Miss Kitty White, these are Lady Mary Westenholme and Lady Juliana Reffern.”

“Miss Kitty,” Juliana repeated, laying special emphasis on the ‘Miss’. “How delightful for us to meet at last.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Juliana,” Kitty said politely. As she did so, her hand tightened its grip on Christopher’s arm, as if to emphasize where in particular her pleasure was found.

“Lady Mary,” Juliana announced. “I do believe you and Miss Kitty may have something in common.”

“We do?” Mary replied, looking doubtful.

“Absolutely,” Juliana insisted. “The two of you ought to get better acquainted so that you might discuss it.”

Then, with one swift and smooth maneuver, Juliana disengaged Kitty from Christopher, matched the girl up with Lady Mary, and took Christopher’s arm for herself.

“There,” she said, with an air of satisfaction. “I do think they’ll be firm friends, don’t you, Lieutenant?”

“Undeniably,” Christopher muttered, thinking as he did so that he had never seen two people who had less in common in his life.

“Now that leaves us free to talk as well. Should we discuss, let’s say, the topic of treachery?” Juliana asked. Her attempt at an innocent tone was undermined completely by the clear anger with which she said it.

“I should think it a topic on which you are an expert,” Christopher said. He watched Kitty and Lady Mary disappearing further ahead of them, as Juliana deliberately kept him to a slower pace. This was not at all how he had envisaged the day going, and he was not considering this an improvement.

“Who is that young lady to you?” Juliana asked. “Pardon; I should say girl, since she is no lady.”

“She is a new friend,” Christopher said. “We met last night. I believe you may have been there.”

Juliana made a choking sound low in her throat for a brief moment. “I certainly was,” she said and left those ominous words hanging in the air.

“And who is your friend?” Christopher asked, glancing back to where they had left the seated party behind.

“Lady Ascot,” Juliana said easily. “She is a distant cousin of my mother’s, I believe. I am not sure of the precise nature of the relationship.”

“It was not Lady Ascot to whom I was referring,” Christopher said testily, knowing full well that she had known what he meant.

“Oh, you mean dear cousin John?” Juliana said.

“The Baroness’ son, I presume,” Christopher replied.

“You presume correctly,” Juliana informed him.

Wonderful. Just wonderful. So now she flaunted her future Baron in front of him also.

“I am sure that must be delightful for you,” Christopher said. “And for him.”

“I do find it so invigorating to be able to converse with people of a higher level of class,” Juliana said, with a pointed look at Kitty’s back.

“Interesting that you should say so,” Christopher said. “I always find it refreshing to talk to someone who is not so restricted by the arrogance of their own presumed authority.”

Juliana reacted as if he had slapped her. For a moment she even stopped walking, causing his arm to pull away from hers as he kept moving.

“Perhaps you should limit your conversations to only those of that lower class that you prefer,” she said icily, walking faster now to catch up with Kitty and Lady Mary.

“Perhaps I will,” Christopher said evenly, refusing to respond to her bait.

With a furious look, Juliana reached the other girls and pulled Lady Mary away. “Good day to you, Lieutenant,” she said, in a way that implied she wished his day was anything but.

“And a good day to you, Lady Juliana,” he said, giving her a mock bow as she departed.

“What a bore,” Kitty remarked, taking his arm once more as they began their return to their own party. “I don’t think I have ever met a duller girl than Lady Mary.”

“Nor I,” Christopher said, though in truth he was only half-listening. His heart was still racing from the fury of his conversation with Juliana, and as he saw her sit down again at the side of John Woode, he felt a stab of regret.

Perhaps he really should have said to her that he didn’t want her conversing with him – or anyone, that was not himself. Perhaps he should have invited her to join him with his own basket. But he had not, and what was done was done. He turned his face away, and swallowed down the sinking feeling that left him subdued for the rest of the day.

Chapter 11

“But you really must agree that it was completely unfair,” Juliana protested. “It is perfectly acceptable, and even expected, that I should sit with my cousin. But that common girl was no one to him at all, and he had no business being with her at a public gathering like that.”

“So you think he should have met her in private?” Mary asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

“You know full well that is not what I am saying,” Juliana huffed. “Honestly, Mary, sometimes I really do think that you don’t even listen. Either that, or you are being dense on purpose.”

“Mother always told me that a man prefers a dense wife,” Mary replied diffidently.

“That may be so, but a woman desires an intelligent friend,” Juliana told her, smiling.

“And an intelligent woman might be able to make her friend smile,” Mary said. “Thus distracting her from her current woes.”

“Very cleverly done,” Juliana conceded. “But you really must agree it is quite unfair.”

“It was,” Mary said. “I agree with you. You are right in all things.”

“Now you are being too clever,” Juliana complained. “Go back to being dense again.”

“As my lady commands,” Mary said, executing a perfect curtsy.

Their laughter was curtailed by the appearance of the Lady Ascot, with John Woode by her side.

“Baroness,” Juliana said. “What a pleasant day it is today.”

The Baroness’s gaze did not waver. She did not look up to the sky, nor did her expression change. “I am sure,” she said. “You two girls seem to be enjoying it well enough, out here in the garden.”

“Of course,” Juliana said, smiling. “The spring here is the most pleasant time of the year. The sun is just beginning to shine again, though not yet so fiercely that we fear harm to our skin.”

“All the same, you ought to wear gloves,” the Baroness said, taking in Mary and Juliana’s bare hands. “It’s not right for a young English lady to be out in the sun without coverings. You will burn.”

“Yes, my lady,” Mary ducked her head.

Juliana tried her best to look abashed, even if she didn’t really feel it. The old woman was so stern, and out of touch. It must have been a hundred years since she was young.

“Will you walk with me through the town, Lady Juliana?” John Woode spoke up. “I wish to stroll by the Royal Crescent, and back along through the park.”

Juliana was taken aback for a moment. She glanced at Mary. Was this an invitation for the both of them?

“Lady Mary, perhaps you can occupy yourself with some embroidery,” the Baroness suggested with an arched brow.

That put an end to any confusion - it was a walk designed just for Juliana and John.

Which brought to mind a rather startling realization indeed.

“Might I speak with my friend for a moment?” Juliana asked, as politely as she could muster. “There is some instruction I must give her regarding a piece we are working on together. After that, I shall be free to join you.”

John Woode inclined his head graciously, and though the Baroness looked unimpressed, she gave no comment.

Juliana took this as agreement and ushered Mary over to the doorway of the house, where they might converse in hushed tones and not be overheard.

“This is awful!” Juliana hissed immediately as soon as they were out of earshot.

“What is?” Mary asked with a perplexed expression. “I am quite happy to sew for a while, you know. I do not mind it.”

“Not you being left behind,” Juliana groaned. “Don’t you see? He means to court me.”

“Are you sure? He may wish to simply spend some time with his cousin,” Mary suggested.

“His very distant cousin, as they went to such great pains to point out to us on their arrival,” Juliana said, looking back and cursing herself for missing it then. “This whole visit has been planned. They mean to marry me off to John Woode.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, you should come up with some excuse for not walking,” Mary said. “Say that you have hurt your foot.”

“And then they shall call the doctor to examine it and find me a fool,” Juliana said. “Or simply wait until I am recovered and ask again. No, I cannot see it working.”

“Then what?” Mary asked.

“I will have to go,” Juliana sighed. “There is nothing for it. Oh, how I wish you were invited as well. There will be nothing to distract me from how very dull John is.”

“You will bear it,” Mary said, standing on her tiptoes to plant a light sisterly kiss on Juliana’s forehead. “Soon you will be back home again, and you can tell me all about how awful it was.”

“I will hold you to that,” Juliana said, before turning back to the Baroness and her son with a forced smile. “I’m ready to depart now.”

The Baroness looked at her still-bare hands and sniffed, but Juliana decided that she would not, after all, go and put on gloves. It would be her own small act of rebellion, something to hold onto during the walk she was to be subjected to.

As they left the home, walking out onto the street, John offered Juliana his arm. After a moment’s hesitation during which she realized it would not be polite or prudent to refuse it, she took it, and walked alongside him.

Behind them, two paces behind but still well within earshot, the Baroness walked.

So, they were to be chaperoned all the while – and by John’s mother, no less. Juliana had not truly had any hope it would be otherwise, but it was still a blow to see it come to pass.

“Look at the fine architecture of these houses,” John said, as they passed along one of the newer streets. “They are a masterpiece of design. There is nowhere like Bath in the whole world.”

“You are quite right, my lord,” Juliana said. Architecture bored her as few other subjects could, but she had to be polite.

It may have been a mistake, for he seemed to take it as encouragement, and continued to talk about the buildings they passed for an interminably long time.

“Do you see how the three stories are decorated in increasingly ornate style?” John asked, as they finally walked along the front of the Royal Crescent. “It is done in the Roman style, inspired by their greatest monument, the Coliseum. Have you traveled to Italy?”

Juliana shook her head. “We have been abroad but once. Father took us to France during one summer for a tour. I am afraid that after he died, my mother had no more inclination to travel.”

“Travelling is good for the soul,” John affirmed. “It allows one to see cultures other than one’s own. Of course, it allows plenty of experience in the arts, too. One can see beautiful art in Italy, left behind by those masters.”

“Would you like to return to Italy, my lord?”

“Return?” John gave her an odd look. “I have never been.”

“Oh,” Juliana said. So, this was the kind of man that John Woode was. One who spouted borrowed wisdom without real experience to draw upon.

The sun was beginning to burn hotter, and Juliana felt unbearably stifled by her bonnet. It felt as though all the heat in her body, trapped under the layers of her dress, was rising up and pooling just on the crown of her head. She reached up to adjust the ribbons slightly, using the opportunity to lift just the top of the bonnet a mere touch and allow a little air to flow in for a moment.

“Lady Juliana,” the Baroness intoned from behind them. “Don’t fiddle.”

Juliana dropped her hand immediately. “Yes, my lady,” she said.

John carried on walking and staring up at the buildings, as if he were oblivious to his mother’s presence. “These are quite fine houses, are they not? I should like to own one. A pity that I will have to settle for whatever rectory is available.”

“Yes, quite,” Juliana said, wishing the sky would send down a sudden downpour. That way she could cool down, and be free of John, both at once.

A horse skittered in the road nearby, causing Juliana to step sideways in alarm. As she did so, her hip bumped into John’s, who was not so quick to react.

“Maintain distance,” the Baroness barked sharply.

“I was dodging the horse, my lady,” Juliana explained.

“A hand on the arm is intimate enough,” the Baroness said. “Further than that should be left between husband and wife.”

“Yes, my lady,” Juliana and John intoned at the same time.

Juliana gave up on wishing for a downpour. Now, instead, she wished a hole might appear in the ground to swallow her – or perhaps cousin John and the Baroness, and leave her behind. Anything to bring this interminable walk to an end.

The worst came when they returned home, after a journey that was far too long and much too hot for Juliana’s liking. Their conversation had been stilted, interrupted often by the Baroness’s disapproval, and none of it had been in any part enjoyable.

“Well, now,” the Baroness said, moving forward to keep pace with them now that they were almost back. “What a pleasant walk it was.”

“Yes, my lady,” Juliana said mechanically.

“John, do you think you will take the same route tomorrow? Or will you escort Lady Juliana on a different path?”

Juliana’s heart sank in her chest. This, it seemed, was not to be the only walk to which she was subjected – and she already wished it would be the last time she ever saw either of them, let alone went through the same experience again.

There was going to have to be some conniving done, she thought as they entered Aunt Bertha’s home once more. Getting out of these walks would be the only possible way to save her sanity.

Chapter 12

Christopher looked at the ribbons he had bought at the market, admiring once again how the sun gleamed off their satin sheen.

“These are most handsome, don’t you think, Jasper?”

Jasper gave a glance across as he finished packing his trunk. “If you say it to be so. I confess I am not a ribbon expert.”

Christopher clucked his tongue. “At last, we have found a failing in you,” he said. “And all this time you have given others to believe that you are the perfect gentleman.”

“At that, I fail in more important ways than ribbon selection,” Jasper laughed.

“I’m going to make them a parting gift for Kitty,” Christopher said. “I think they will suit her most nicely.”

“You’d best hurry, then,” Jasper said. “The coach leaves in a matter of hours.”

“I’ll be back before then,” Christopher replied. “My trunk is ready. I’ll just call upon her at her current residence and be gone.”

“Unless she’s mighty impressed with those ribbons,” Jasper said, giving him a sly wink.

“None of that,” Christopher laughed. “Even you wouldn’t manage to fit in a midnight flit and a tryst in a barn before the coach gets here.”

Jasper only laughed, waving him off. “On my part, I’m taking the opportunity for a last ale,” he said. “I can’t show my face out on the streets lest I’m beset by an angry mob of fathers, but since I find myself without companionship, I’ll risk a trip to the inn down the lane.”

“Then I’ll see you before the coach,” Christopher said, taking his leave.

He strolled out into the street and hired a hackney coach. He gave the driver Kitty’s address, then sat back to watch the town go by.

They were perhaps ten minutes down the road, and almost halfway to Kitty’s residence, when the cab was halted by some kind of disturbance up ahead. Christopher leaned forward to see an upset cart spilling produce across the road, and sat back with a tut.

But there was something that was nagging at him, even as he sat back.

He remembered last year, and an arrangement to meet with several local ladies in the park for a gathering; the soldiers had been sitting there waiting for some time before their friends at last arrived.

Juliana Reffern had been the toast of them all, swanning over with a retinue of ladies in attendance and launching into a riotous story of how they had been held up by a collision that turned into a street brawl. She had described the way the merchant pelted his enemy with potatoes in a rage, and everyone had been helpless with laughter to hear her tell it.

There was a leap in his chest, a response from his heart of the kind that always came when he thought of Juliana. Christopher stared down at the pink ribbons clutched in his hand, and a realization came over him.

These were not at all the right color for Kitty. They would clash with her red hair somewhat terribly.

No, he had bought these ribbons for someone else, even as he was telling himself it was not so. He had bought them with Juliana in mind.

It was always Juliana that was on his mind.

Christopher leaned forward again, putting his head up alongside the driver. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said.

“Well, you’ll still pay for the journey,” the driver grunted.

“I will, and more,” Christopher promised. “We have a new destination.”

Once the address was given, the driver whipped his horse into motion, turning the cab around on the cramped street and, after some laborious moments, getting it going again in the opposite direction.

Christopher gnawed on his lip as the cab bounced over potholes and swerved around single riders. He knew it was dangerous, attempting such a move. He was not welcome at all at Juliana’s aunt’s home, and he knew that for a fact. He had been given it in no uncertain terms.

But to give her the ribbons, he had to see her in person. If he turned up at the front door, he had no doubt that he would be turned away and told not to bother them again. If he passed the ribbons to the aunt, well, they might find their way to a craft basket, but never to Juliana’s hands.

So, what could he do? There was only a limited time available to him, and if he took up some strategy that involved waiting for the aunt to go out, he might miss his window entirely.

But now that he had conceived it, the idea of going back to his station without providing the ribbons to Juliana was absolutely unfathomable.

He was still thinking this over when the cab pulled up outside the property, and he hopped down and paid his driver without any real solution in his mind.

The gates at the front of the house were open, leaving it free for just anyone to walk up and knock on the door. If he did that, he would never have a chance of seeing Juliana. But how else was he to get there?

Christopher paused outside the gates, and peeked in, eyeing the house cautiously. He could not see anyone moving near the windows, but neither could he truly see far enough to discern whether anyone was watching.

There was only one thing for it. He squared his shoulders as he walked through the gate, then quickly slipped off to the side as he approached the house. By the time he had met the brick walls, he was hidden from the view of the windows, at the corner of the property.

It struck him that if anyone else were to come through the gate, they would think his behavior very strange indeed. But that wasn’t something that he could very well worry about unless it happened.

He waited now, thinking about his next move. If only he knew where Juliana was, everything would be much simpler. He could just get her attention, and then signal her to come out and meet him.

With new resolve, Christopher crept around the front of the building, keeping himself flat against the wall. He peered forward to sneak a glance through the first window he came to, only to pull back quickly, his heart beating so fast he could barely believe that those in the house would not hear it.

Mrs. Reffern had been there, sitting just inside the room – with an embroidery hoop on her lap, which she had thankfully been looking down at.

Christopher waited a few moments, letting his heart rate cool and hesitating in case she had indeed seen him. If that were so, someone would surely come out to chase him away.

But no one came, and Christopher began to breathe normally again, thinking that he had had a very close escape.

He ducked down to his hands and knees, and moved underneath the windowsill, taking great care that he would not be seen or heard. Once he was past the window, he straightened up again and walked a circular path around the porch so that the ring of his shoes on the polished stone would not give him away.

At last, he reached the window on the other side of the house. Taking great pains as before, he slowly and carefully inched himself around until he could see in through the glass.

And there she was – his radiant Lady Juliana, sitting alone with a book!

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief, and after giving the room a more thorough inspection to check that there really was no one else around, he tried waving his hand in front of the glass. Juliana did not look up, and her attention was not attracted by the motion. It did not seem as though she had noticed it at all.

Christopher gave one more hurried glance around, and then tapped gently on the glass. He made as low a noise as he dared, but it was enough to make her look up at last.

He gestured at her to come outside, but he was met only with a scowl and narrowed eyes. Of course. Although he had realized all by himself that she was the one for him, and no one else, she had not been party to this revelation. She was probably still annoyed at him for going around with Kitty.

Christopher held up the pink ribbons in his hand, dangling them for her to see. Juliana’s expression softened momentarily, but then went hard again. She even looked back down at her book as if she were really capable of totally ignoring him.

Christopher tapped the glass again, and made a gesture of prayer with his hands again as she looked up. He hoped his expression was piteous enough that she would be convinced.

With a sigh that was almost audible through the glass, she got up and put her book down, then went out into the corridor. Christopher followed, though he could no longer see her, and waited by the front door.

It opened with a quiet click, though not fully - it was open by the barest crack. As Christopher pushed it open, he could hear Juliana’s voice coming from a short distance away.

“Are you sure I cannot ask the maids to get you anything, dear Aunt?” she was saying.

Christopher inched through the door, pushing it behind him and leaving it open by just the barest crack. Juliana was standing in the doorway of a room to his left, and quite effectively blocking the view of the corridor for anyone that might be inside it. He began to sneak past, and noticed that she was holding one hand behind her back - one hand that pointed towards the back of the house.

Christopher moved as quickly and quietly as he could, until he reached the back door, right at the opposite end of the corridor. He opened it and quickly slipped outside, and stood alone in the sunshine of the back garden of the house.

It was not more than a few moments before Juliana joined him. She guided him by the arm over to a bench that stood half-sheltered by a large rose bush, and bade him sit down.

“Juliana, I am so happy to see you again,” Christopher said. He meant every word with a deep emotion that seemed almost ready to overflow from him.

“You had better give me a reason to be happy to see you,” Juliana remarked tartly. “I had not thought we were on the best of terms.”

“It’s all silliness,” Christopher said. “I see that now. My heart is devoted to you, Juliana. I brought you these ribbons as a parting gift before I have to return to the barracks.”

“Are they not for your other friend?” Juliana asked archly, her brows raised.

Christopher only smiled. “They are pink, Juliana,” he pointed out.

“True,” Juliana commented. “They would clash most terribly with that orange hair of hers.”

Christopher thought it might be unfair to call it orange, given the subtlety of Kitty’s shade. Still, he was wise enough by now not to say anything of the sort.

“Could you truly believe that my heart might be given to any other person?” he asked warmly. “It has always been you, Juliana, since the first moment we met.”

Juliana took the ribbons from his hand and bent her head over them as though she were studying them closely. Christopher thought she must have been affected by his words, trying to hide her face, and renewed hope flared within his breast.

“They are passable,” she said, of the ribbons, grasping them in her hand. “I accept your gift, Lieutenant.”

“Not for much longer,” Christopher said, seized by a wild and reckless desire to make her a solemn vow. “I will be a captain next time I see you. I swear it, Juliana.”

“Do you really?” Juliana asked, looking up to meet his eyes. “You intend to progress your career to impress me?”

“No. To impress your stepfather,” Christopher said. “The Duke and Duchess have no great love for me. They consider me inferior. Fine, well, and good. I will improve myself until I am worthy.”

There was a faint rosy color in Juliana’s cheeks. “Then you are worthy of me,” she said. “Only a good man would seek to advance for the love of a woman.”

“I will rejoice in the day that all in your family agree,” Christopher said, casting a grim glance back at the house.

“We shall have to smuggle you back out the same way,” Juliana giggled. “My poor Aunt Bertha, she did not suspect a thing.”

“It is no small risk,” Christopher smiled. “But I consider it the smallest possible risk I would take in order to spend time by your side.”

The rosy color on her cheeks intensified as her eyelids fluttered at his words. Her grey-blue eyes twinkled with a thousand stars, and Christopher found himself falling into them, swimming in their skies.

There was no thought in his head, no care for propriety or rules – that warm emotion in his chest, that happiness, overwhelmed him. It overflowed and enveloped him in light. Her lips became the center of his world at that moment, and he was leaning forward before he even realized it. Juliana closed her eyes…

The spell broke by the sound of a voice calling her.

“Juliana! Where are you?”

The moment shattered. Juliana gasped out loud, and pushed Christopher off the bench and to his knees in one swift motion in order to hide him. “Here, Aunt!” she called back. “I will come to you.”

“Your parents are here to visit, Juliana,” Mrs. Reffern called from the entrance to the home.

“You’ll have to go over the wall,” Juliana hissed at Christopher with a stricken look, before she made to return to the house.

“Wait!”

Christopher gently lifted her hand and planted the softest of kisses on her knuckles.

“We will meet again very soon,” he vowed and received a brilliant smile in response before she hurried back towards the house.

Christopher considered his situation for a moment. He couldn’t very well stay and wait for long – after all, the whole party might come out of the house at any moment, and then what could he do to hide? It was all well and good when there was a rosebush to shield you, but nothing would stop them from seeing him if they came along the path.

Christopher listened to Juliana’s voice fading into the house, certain that she continued to talk loudly for his benefit so that he would have a marker of the eyes that might spot him. He heard her say something faintly about going into the sitting room, and took this as his signal that it was time to depart.

He cast around, and saw a grand apple tree growing in one corner of the garden. The space between here and there was open at many places and therefore he might be seen, but at least he would be able to climb the wall from behind it.

The wall – this was a problem that he considered as he dashed, heart racing, to the cover of the tree. His boots kicked up soil around it, and he realized that there would be a very clear sign he had been present. Juliana would have to think of some clever way to explain it – perhaps she would suggest to them that there was a mad stalker or a robber examining the house.

He wanted to laugh at the thought of Mrs. Reffern suffering great suspicion and mistrust in connection with the possibility of an attacker, but there again, there was not much chance for laughter at the present moment.

Christopher tried to reach the top of the wall, but his fingers would only just graze the very edge of it. That meant holding on was almost impossible, especially while carrying his own body weight. There would only be one thing for it: to jump.

Bracing himself against the spindly trunk of the apple tree for a moment, Christopher gathered his strength and then made a mad leap. He was not at all sure whether he had chosen the right trajectory until his fingers connected with the edge of the bricks, and then it was a frantic scramble to get some purchase on the wall with his feet.

He managed after a long and desperate struggle to pull himself up, and sitting astride the wall itself, he caught his breath. At last, he dropped down into the empty ground behind the house and inspected his boots to see the damage he had done to them. They were almost completely scuffed, and would not in any respect pass muster for the next inspection he was subject to from his captain.

A man and his wife were watching him, open-mouthed, when he straightened up again. Giving them a cheery wave, Christopher moved off, heading back to join Jasper at the coach just in time to depart.

“Been on some kind of adventure?” Jasper asked, looking at the front of his boots with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

“You might say that,” Christopher grinned. “I certainly would call it such.”

“So, the Miss was receptive to your charms after all,” Jasper mused.

“Not the Miss,” Christopher corrected. “The Lady. I went to see Juliana under some flash of inspiration, and we are quite reconciled. In fact, I have devised a promise which I will need your help in order to keep.”

“That sounds ominous,” Jasper remarked.

“Quite so,” Christopher grinned. “We need to find me a commission. I have given my sworn word that I am to be a captain.”

“Then we shall plot,” Jasper replied. “And I think I have just the perfect plan in mind.”

Chapter 13

Even with the hope that she might one day be with Christopher renewed, there was no way for Juliana to communicate this to her loved ones, save for Mary.

There was also, therefore, no way to avoid the continued tedious walks with the Baroness and her equally tedious son, who seemed to have no personality of his own that the Baroness did not provide.

“Mama,” Juliana said, pretending to groan and rub her stomach. “I cannot possibly ride out today. I am feeling so unwell. I must stay in.”

“Then you will want to remain in for the rest of the week, I suppose,” the Duchess of Prighton said. “If you are so unwell, you shan’t want to attend the picnic on Saturday, nor even the grand ball of the season following it.”

Juliana squinted her eyes a little, trying to see a way around this. “Well, I dare say there’s a chance I may be better by then,” she ventured.

“Or even that you find yourself feeling miraculously better now,” the Duchess suggested. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get into your riding habit? Bessie will be waiting for you.”

Juliana sighed, and got up from her position in the sitting room. “Mama, it just seems so unfair. I don’t think I can stand it,” she said, in a last attempt to at least save herself.

“What is unfair?” her mother asked.

“That I should get to ride out all the time, and poor Mary always remains here with no one of her age to sit with,” Juliana said.

Mary gave her a raised eyebrow from a comfortable armchair, where she sat working on embroidery in a hoop. The Duke and Duchess had brought down a set of three horses with them when they journeyed to Bath, intended for use as steeds as they explored the town. Combined with the horse of John Woode, that left them at a total of four. The Baroness, being too elderly, no longer rode at all.

“I don’t have a horse, Juliana,” Mary said.

“Then I should stay with you,” Juliana pointed out. “Mama and Papa can ride out, and we shall stay here with Aunt Bertha.”

“Nonsense,” the Duchess declared. “Mary can borrow my horse – and your spare habit, too. You can both ride out, and I will stay.”

“If you are certain, Your Grace,” Mary murmured, dipping her head.

“I am. Now, hurry. They will be waiting for you both.”

Juliana resigned herself to having to go on the ride after all. It would be better with Mary by her side, at least. Though her stepfather and John Woode were amongst the last people in the world that she might desire to ride with, at least she would be able to converse with her best friend instead.

Outside the town was green land, which they soon reached once they were on horseback. Juliana found herself unused to riding already, and wishing they had decided on something more comfortable. Sitting with her legs to the side and her body twisted so that she might look forwards was not as pleasant as the men’s position seemed to be. They were so much more in control, too – Juliana often felt a fear that she might slip off should the horse run away with her.

“Isn’t it nice to be out in the open air?” John remarked, lifting his head up high as they rode along, all four side-by-side.

Juliana did not think so at all. While the countryside was fine enough, there was much more happening in town. True enough that neither of them held her Christopher, but that did not mean she could not amuse herself through other means.

“It’s wonderful to get such a wide view,” Mary remarked politely, gazing ahead at the rolling fields around them.

“Do you know the history of this land, Lady Mary?” the Duke of Prighton asked.

“I’m afraid I do not, Your Grace.”

The Duke launched into one of his usual tiresome lectures, explaining something about Romans and natives that Juliana did not care enough to listen to. Instead, she thought about how long it would likely be before she saw Christopher again.

Would it take him a terribly long time to become a captain? She had no real idea of how it all worked, except knowing that a man could purchase a commission if he wanted to. For that, however, there had to be a commission available, wasn’t that the case? And how was a man to make one appear?

Oh, she hoped desperately that it would not take too long. It was agony, as it was to wait to see him again.

Now that they were reconciled, she wished he could have stayed in Bath. They might have danced together, sat down to eat in the park, or even strolled together so long as a good chaperone was found. One who did not mind that Christopher was not the man she was supposed to stroll with.

How inconvenient that it had taken until it was time for him to leave before he professed his feelings! Juliana reached up to touch the pink ribbons in her hair absently, holding the reins in one hand.

She would never stop wearing them, not until they all fell to pieces.

“Don’t you agree, Juliana?”

Juliana started, realizing she was being spoken to. John Woode was looking at her expectantly, and she had no idea what about.

“… I’m sorry?” she managed. There was no use in pretending. And besides, she did not know what she would be agreeing to if she simply went along with it.

“Of course, you’re right,” Mary said, jumping to the rescue. “It’s quite clever of you to make that connection.”

John beamed at her, and Juliana breathed a sigh of relief.

She allowed her horse to trail behind a little as Mary and John rode on, chattering away with one another. Her stepfather slowed his steed too, until they walked in step, two in front and two behind.

“I don’t know what is on your mind, Juliana,” he said, sounding displeased.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Juliana said automatically. Though she was expected to say it, she didn’t truly think of the man as her father. Still, he seemed to be fairer when she used such a term of affection.

The Duke harrumphed. “Well, you will have to start focusing sooner or later, my girl. You won’t attract a husband with such a short attention span. A man needs to have his conversation listened to if he is to feel at all valued.”

He nodded pointedly at Mary and John, riding ahead of them.

A wave akin to revulsion swept over Juliana, and she suppressed a shudder. Never would she wish to marry John Woode – never, never, never.

She was grateful that Mary was at least able to keep up a conversation with the man. She supposed that he couldn’t possibly be as odious to Mary, since there was no intention for them to be married. If the Baroness had not made her plans entirely clear, Juliana supposed that she might have held him in regard as only a dull man, not an awful one.

She was extremely grateful for Mary’s distraction, as it turned out. If it were not for the fact that her enterprising friend had managed to take the attention away, Juliana knew she would have had to speak to John all morning herself.

“This is terribly dull, Father,” Juliana complained, keeping her voice low so that the two companions up ahead would not overhear her. She needn’t have bothered - they didn’t seem to be paying the least bit attention as to what was going on behind them. “Can we not return to the house?”

“I should have brought your mother along instead,” the Duke growled. “She would have kept you in check. Ride up alongside them and talk, will you? Your friend is not going to distract him forever. The Baroness has already complained that you do not seem flattered by their interest in you.”

“I am not,” Juliana retorted, and urged her horse forward with a flick of the reins before he could produce an angry reply.

“I should like to see that,” Mary was saying as Juliana caught pace with them.

“See what?” she asked.

“I have just been describing our home to Lady Mary,” John said affably. “It is quite grand, indeed. Though I expect I shall not often see it again once I am settled in my rectory.”

“You don’t plan to return home?” Juliana asked.

“Why should I?” John smiled. “I shall be perfectly happy in my parish. I will have all I need there. Enough room to live, a purpose in caring for the poor people who cannot fend for themselves in the light of the Lord, and a pretty wife beside me.”

Juliana resisted the urge to shudder.

“What about polite company?” she asked. “Will you not want for that?”

“I will have the people of the parish,” John said, looking ahead as if he could see the future. There was an annoyingly pleasant look on his face, as if what he saw made him very happy indeed. “I am sure that senior members of the church will call from time to time. And, of course, children will fill the home in due course.”

“That sounds lovely,” Mary said.

Juliana shot her a sharp glare, which earned her only a guilty expression in response.

“I do rather think so,” John said, with a look on his round face so foolish that Juliana could not help but hate him all the more for it.

From then she fell silent, as silent as she could be. Politeness required a murmur here and there, but Mary and John managed to get along well without her input for the most part.

What a dreadful picture of married life they would make, Juliana thought. A husband and wife only able to tolerate one another’s presence when her best friend intervenes to carry the conversation! Yet another reason why cousin John would not do – not at all.

She just had to find a way to make it so that she could marry Christopher instead. She was beginning to wonder if she wouldn’t have to run off with him in some scandal in order to make it happen before John Woode was forced to offer her his hand.

Chapter 14

“We must find an existing captain, convince them to leave, dishonor them, or somehow otherwise undermine them so that a position becomes available.”

Jasper had announced his scheme a few days before, leaving Christopher speechless.

He hadn’t liked the idea then, and he still didn’t like it now, but he couldn’t see another way to achieve his goal. So, reluctantly, he had started to entertain the prospect of this scheme and its merits. He had started squelching his guilt under the boot of necessity.

Not very effectively, however.

“So, what’s your plan?” Christopher asked now, looking dubiously at his friend.

Jasper wore an excited expression on his face, which was never a good sign. In fact, the last time he had seen it, they had been chased out of Hampshire by what could only be described as an angry mob. To make matters worse, Christopher had been asleep during whatever it was Jasper had done to raise their ire, and had only had enough time to dress in a sloppy manner before they had to be on a coach and away.

“We’re going to plant some evidence in his quarters,” Jasper said, with the fierce kind of enthusiasm that indicated he was very much invested in his plan - and also that he thought it to be an excellent one.

“Slow down,” Christopher said, shaking his head. “In whose quarters, to begin with?”

“Captain Brazen,” Jasper said.

That was enough to start a sinking feeling in the pit of Christopher’s stomach already.

Captain Brazen was a man of their company who had an excellent reputation. He was known far and wide for the integrity and honor with which he comported himself. In fact, it was easy to see for anyone who had spent any time with the man at all that honor was the defining principle by which he had lived his life.

He was, in that sense, the direct opposite of Jasper - though Christopher did not say as much out loud.

Even to begin with, the idea of Captain Brazen leaving his commission was as alien as the idea of the sun quitting its role in the sky. He was an army man, through and through. The general expectation was that he would proceed through the ranks due to his good conduct, rather than being the type of man that might have to buy his way up.

He was from a very good family, but he had not bought his way into the captaincy either. He had earned it, fair and square. He had served his time as a lieutenant, just as they were doing now.

“Why Captain Brazen?” Christopher asked, his mouth feeling strangely dry. “Isn’t there a better candidate? Perhaps a man who might be more easily trapped?”

“Captain Brazen is the best possible candidate,” Jasper explained, slowly as if he were talking to a child. He used exaggerated hand gestures to illustrate his point. “He is such an honorable man that, even though he won’t have done anything wrong, he will accept being dismissed from his position with grace. He might even decide that it’s a fair decision. You know these righteous types, there’s always some kind of wickedness hidden down deep.”

Christopher thought about Captain Brazen. The man was married, with two young children, and Christopher had personally witnessed him donating his son’s old toys to the poor folk who lived close by the barracks. It certainly didn’t seem as though there was any wickedness hidden in him, however deeply.

“But what kind of… evidence are you suggesting?” he asked, feeling as though he was about to like the plan even less.

“First, we steal something from another captain’s quarters,” Jasper said, holding up a finger and then adding another beside it. “Then, we sneak into Captain Brazen’s quarters while he’s out and put it in there. I’m thinking medals, maybe. Something easy to trace.”

Christopher balked a little. “Stealing the medals is risky. What if we get caught doing it?”

“No risk, no reward,” Jasper winked. “Besides, it’s an easy solution. We simply have to avoid getting caught.”

Christopher sighed. “Even assuming we get all of this done, what if the Captain just laughs it off? They might assume it was a prank and simply put the medals back where they came from.”

“You’re right, it might not be quite far enough to get him out of the army,” Jasper nodded. “Which is why I will also plant something else at the same time as the medals.”

“And what would that be?”

Jasper winked again. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “This past week I made some visits to the less decent women of Bath,” he said. “I have some choice items I will scatter around the room – behind the bed, inside a trunk, and so forth. Some mementoes that the ladies provided me with. Of course, they were far from being ladies!”

Christopher stared at him with his mouth agape for a moment. “The Captain is married,” he finally managed, shocked.

“Precisely,” Jasper said. “And that is why his shame will be so great upon having these things discovered in his quarters. In fact, I believe he will most likely resign his position in order to stop the word spreading. He’ll cut some kind of deal with the Major and that’s that.”

“But Captain Brazen is a good man,” Christopher said, after a long pause.

He was convinced utterly that Jasper’s plan would work. That was the problem – it was complete genius. But if it did work, then an innocent and decent man was going to be ruined.

“Like I said, that’s how we know it would work,” Jasper said. “There are plenty of other captains who would take it on the chin, perhaps even bring on a duel to settle matters. That won’t work for our purposes. We need a commission available, and we need to do it in such a way that it won’t be traced back to us. A man who will quietly resign is best.”

“He doesn’t deserve to lose his commission,” Christopher said quietly.

“And do you deserve to be a lieutenant forever?” Jasper asked pointedly. “The world isn’t about deserving - it’s about going out and getting something. If you get this done, you’ll have Juliana. Don’t you think that you deserve her?”

“I will, when I’m a captain,” Christopher said, trying to swallow. His mouth was so interminably dry!

“So, for the love of a woman, let’s get this done. I need you to work with me, Christopher. It can’t be done by one man alone. There must be one of us to take the medals and plant everything, and one of us to serve as a lookout. We may even have to distract the man if he comes back unexpectedly.”

That was a terrible thought. Getting caught in the act!

“You would risk this for me?” Christopher asked, surprised and a little touched at how far Jasper was willing to go.

“Of course,” he replied. “And when the time is right, my friend the new Captain will be sure to help me find my commission too.”

Christopher nodded. “You know I would help you, even if you were not the one to get me there.”

“But I will be,” Jasper said, grinning. “All you have to do is agree, and then stand out in a corridor every now and then while I do the rest of the work.”

Christopher considered things for a moment.

He wanted Juliana desperately, he really did. This would put her within his reach at last. Not to mention the fact that Jasper would be taking an equal risk – so it was not as though he would be on his own. And what Jasper said was true: if you wanted something, you had to take it.

“How soon do we start?” he asked slowly.

Jasper laughed and clapped him soundly on the back. “That’s the spirit! As soon as we can. Now that we’re back in the barracks, I’m sure the opportunity will present itself post-haste.”

“I’m sure it will,” Christopher agreed, but in the back of his mind, a little voice was still challenging him about if this really was the right way to go about things. A voice that was in truth an assembly of voices.

The voice of his father, and that of his mother.

The voice of Edmund, his older brother.

And finally, a male voice he didn’t quite recognize.

For Juliana, he silenced them all.

Chapter 15

“I am not looking forward to this,” Juliana said, tugging anxiously at the collar of her dress.

“Stop fiddling,” Mary told her. “And do calm down. I’m sure it will be fine. It is just a dinner like any other.”

“It is not a dinner like any other, I assure you,” Juliana said, studying her reflection in a small glass on the mantlepiece. “Mama insisted I wear my best dress tonight. That is an ominous sign if ever I saw one.”

“If you are right, then surely it can only mean some intention to impress the Baroness,” Mary said, biting her lip. “Though they must know that you have seen her often enough already.”

“Such is the ritual of courtship,” Juliana sighed. “I believe they mean to display my finery so that I might demonstrate my suitability as a wife.”

Mary finished making last-minute adjustments to the ribbons in Juliana’s hair – the pink ribbons that Christopher had given her.

“How awful,” she said. “What do you propose to do?”

“Well, I can hardly tell them in defiance that I have chosen my husband already,” Juliana sighed, smoothing down the front of her skirt with a distracted hand. “There has been no betrothal made, and besides which, Christopher wants to wait until he is a captain. He feels, and rightly so, that they will never accept him in his current position.”

“And will they accept him as a captain?” Mary asked softly.

Juliana glanced at her with some alarm. “I can only hope as much,” she said. “You do not think they will agree?”

“Even above that,” Mary murmured, ducking her head so that she did not meet Juliana’s eyes. “Do you really believe he will manage it?”

Juliana stopped moving for a moment. She felt as if all the air had been taken out of her lungs.

But then she was able to breathe again, because she knew what she believed.

“I do,” she affirmed. “I know that Christopher will do it. Because he loves me enough that he will make it happen at any cost.”

“It may be out of his control,” Mary said. “The army is not known for offering a wealth of commissions at present. I have heard the officers complaining about the lack of opportunity when they visited my father. Will you really wait for him to achieve it, regardless of the time it takes?”

Juliana paused long enough to think about her answer. She felt that she had to be sure and firm about this.

Searching within herself, it was with some surprise that she realized she was. “I will,” she said.

Mary nodded as if everything was settled. “Then you will have to do your best to dissuade John Woode from offering his hand, and I will do what I can also.”

“Thank you, dear Mary,” Juliana said, pausing to squeeze her friend’s hand. “I do not know where I would be without you, verily. Come, then. Let us enter the lion’s pit.”

Mary giggled at her choice of words, and they descended the stairs together.

The scene at dinner was much as Juliana had predicted – perhaps even worse.

It seemed clear that the Baroness had no intention of hiding her meaning. This was no subtle dance. She wanted information, and she made it clear that she would have it.

“Have you learned embroidery to a high degree?” the Baroness asked. “We might wish to see some samples of your work.”

“I have, my lady,” Juliana said, proffering her cuffs. “I added this floral beading to my cuffs, here. The dress was quite plain before I worked upon it.”

The Baroness examined the work with her head tilted back and her eyes narrowed, then harrumphed and went back to her food. “And you have learned languages?”

“I speak French, thanks to the work of my governess,” Juliana said.

“Est-ce que c’est vrai?” the Baroness barked quickly.

“Oui, Madame, depuis j’avais dix ans.”

The Baroness pushed food into her mouth, clearly satisfied with the proof she had seen so far.

“Juliana is a very accomplished dancer,” the Duchess put in. “She has not missed a step in any of her public dances.”

Except for one, Juliana thought, exchanging a guilty look with Mary.

“As to her being a third daughter,” the Baroness said, chewing on a piece of meat as she spoke. “Will there be any kind of dowry?”

There was a shocked silence for a moment, the whole of the rest of the table quite unsettled by the idea that she should ask such a thing so openly.

“She will be provided for,” the Duke grunted at last. “I may perhaps discuss the specifics in private conversation when I am approached by a family who intends to wed her.”

His words were chosen carefully: both a subtle sidestep and a clear hint that he expected things to be firmed up in the very near future.

“We shall converse after dinner,” the Baroness announced.

Juliana looked up in alarm, her eyes darting between Mary, her mother and stepfather, and – John Woode.

Out of all of them, John was the only one who looked as panicked as she herself felt.

“You are not quite correct, Mama,” Juliana spoke up, feeling that she had best do something – whatever it took.

“I beg your pardon, Juliana?”

“I have, in fact, missed a step at a public dance. During our stay here, in fact. I was forced to retire from the event as a whole.”

Aunt Bertha shifted uncomfortably in her seat and cleared her throat. “Well, but we were set to depart anyway, as the Lady Mary was feeling somewhat unwell.”

She had obviously not told the story to the Duke and Duchess, who now regarded both daughter and sister with raised brows.

“I was distracted,” Juliana put in. “A gentleman had asked for the dance, but we ended up rowing.”

“A public dispute,” the Baroness said. She was shaking her head minutely, a gesture that caused her to appear as though she were trembling with apoplexy. “How uncouth.”

“I am sure that it was not all that it sounds,” the Duchess said hastily. “You were not overheard, Juliana, nor was your departure noted. That must be the right of it.”

“I should think the young men of the night noticed quite soon that one of the prettiest of their number was departed,” John Woode put in. His compliment was lost in the quivering of his voice, which sounded strongly on the verge of nervousness.

“Eyes were turned in my direction,” Juliana conceded. “I suppose you have not experienced such attention yourself, cousin.”

The slight was so palpable that it was as though the whole table had drawn in a collective breath and then held it. She might as well have come right out and called him ugly. Juliana tried to suppress a ghoulish smile at their discomfort by taking a sip of her wine.

“Well, I think it is time that we retired,” the Duchess cut in, her voice strained and abrupt. “I shall go with the ladies to the sitting room. Lady Ascot, perhaps you will join us there after you have conversed with my husband?”

The Baroness inclined her head as they began to stand, the men heading off to enjoy a drink and some cigars.

Juliana tried to follow closely behind Mary towards the sitting room, but her mother caught her and drew her aside just before they reached the door. Her fingers pinched like claws into Juliana’s arm.

“Juliana,” the Duchess hissed. “What do you mean by this kind of behavior? You must stop your insolence at once.”

“My apologies, Mama,” Juliana said, though she did not moderate her tone, allowing herself to make it clear that she was not at all sorry for her words.

“We expect you to marry John Woode, make no mistake about that,” the Duchess said sharply. “Know that if you do not allow this match, you will never find a better one. Keep your tongue in your head from now on, girl. Never with any of your sisters did we see such trouble.”

Juliana did not retort anything about her sisters having had easier matches. She did not retort at all. She trailed quietly after her mother, wishing desperately that at least one of those siblings was around now to provide a united front for her.

But she would not give up. Christopher would come for her. She knew it. All she had to do, was make sure she was unattached until he did.

Whatever it took.

Chapter 16

He barely knew how he had managed to get through. Seventeen times at least he had changed his mind, decided that it was too cruel. Eighteen times at least Jasper had given him renewed vigor to continue – not least after the first part of their plot was completed, and he warned that it was too late to back out now.

Still, somehow, Christopher and Jasper had completed their plan. The medals, won in a battle some years ago and therefore of particular sentimental value, were taken from one room and placed in that of Captain Brazen. The choice items taken from ladies of ill repute were also deposited, and the deed was done.

Jasper returned to the room they shared a day later full of news. The grin he wore spoke only of great excitement.

“They’re searching for the medals now,” he said. “They were going to start with the cadets and work their way up, but I made a noise in the right ear about a rumor I’d heard. They’re going through his quarters next.”

Christopher felt a flurry of butterflies rioting in his stomach. He fought down a sudden desire to be sick. “It’s done, then,” he said. He was not sure whether he was celebrating the confirmation or asking a question.

“It is done, my friend,” Jasper said, clapping him on the back. “We’ll leave it a couple of days, now. And then you’ll move in when enough time has passed to avoid suspicion.”

“Right,” Christopher agreed weakly, staring at the wall.

Jasper tripped out of the room again, and Christopher was left alone.

His mind wandered back to when he had first met Juliana, to when they had spoken about his prospects. He remembered how impressed she was by his career in the military, and where it might lead to…

“And do you think that you will be a captain one day?” Juliana asked, excitedly, looking with wide eyes at the insignia of Second Lieutenant which was freshly added to his coat.

“One day,” Christopher said proudly. “And beyond that. I shall be a Major, mark my words.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Juliana said. Her eyes were misty, and she seemed almost to be talking to herself. “The wife of a Major…”

Christopher’s heart leaped in his chest. “Perhaps even further above, though I should not get ahead of myself,” he said. “I shall need to have the opportunity to distinguish myself in the field. But if it should come, be sure that I will take it.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you in battle,” Juliana said, pouting slightly. “You should be in great danger. What if something were to happen to you?”

“Such is the risk associated with being a military man,” Christopher said, puffed out with pride and swagger despite the fact he had never been anywhere near something resembling a real combat situation. “It is the sad lot of the military wife to await news of her beloved. But the men tell me that reunion is all the sweeter for it.”

“Oh, they do?” Juliana asked. Her eyes were like saucers.

Christopher had to laugh. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he said. He chose not to share the choice ribald stories he had been told about what happened when a man returned from the front lines to his wife. “And for a strong-minded woman, it is all the better. She has the chance to run the household by herself while he is away.”

“She is the sole regent of her own small palace,” Juliana said dreamily.

“Yes, indeed,” Christopher agreed. “It is a most pleasant life, for those who are so inclined.”

Remembering how excited she had been, Christopher couldn’t help but smile to himself. That was back when he had been falling in love with her. He was sure, now, that she had been doing the same. It was all he had ever wanted to follow through on those promises and become the man that was worthy of her love.

How could he do anything to stop it from happening, now?

He had been sitting on his bed reading a letter from Edmund, filled with news from their family home, when Jasper returned. He had read each line perhaps twenty times, none of it truly going into his head.

“They’ve got him!” Jasper announced, bursting in breathlessly.

“What?” Christopher asked, startled, clutching his chest as his heart hammered so fast it felt as though it might fall out.

“They found everything, exactly as we planned. There was such a row they almost came to blows. At last, the Major appeared, and Brazen formally resigned. He’s out.”

Christopher felt a great rushing sensation, as he were falling from a great height.

“Anyway, I’m for the common hall. I’ll see you there?” Jasper said. “Mayhap we’ll have a little wine to celebrate.”

“Right,” Christopher nodded. “I’ll just…”

He gestured vaguely towards his trunk, and whatever that was supposed to mean, Jasper seemed to accept it.

Christopher sat in their quarters for a while longer, abandoning all pretense of doing something else. After a short time, he stood and began to pace back and forth. His thoughts skittered to and fro like rats, and he could not bear to be still any longer.

But what could he do?

The question was honor, above all things. The irony of it was that Captain Brazen – no, Mr. Brazen, now – had made his choice out of honor, as they had known he would.

The question was whether honor was more important than other things. Whether it was fair to use dishonorable means to win Juliana, so long as he got her in the end. Whether winning that great prize justified ruining the life of another.

His life or Brazen’s – who was to say which was worth more?

But if all things were equal, and all people equal too, then neither of them was worth more. Neither of them had the God-given right to happiness at the expense of all else.

And following this path of thought, then Christopher had no right at all to allow Brazen’s life to be ruined just so that he might have a chance at happiness.

When it came down to it, would Juliana even accept him if she ever found out what he had done? That he had sacrificed an innocent man in search of his own happiness?

Or would she be so disappointed in him that she would turn him away and marry some rich nobleman who had never seen a moment’s service, just to spite him?

Christopher caught sight of the letter from Edmund, discarded off on a table, and it was as though a jolt of lightning ran through him. Edmund was an honorable man to the core – and made all the more so by his choice of wife in the patient and kind Joanna.

The moment he thought of how they would look at him – how his younger sisters and brother would look at him – if they found out what he had done, Christopher’s mind was made up.

The assembly of inner voices that had been feeding his guilt finally triumphed. His father’s, his mother’s, his brother’s. And, finally, the one he hadn’t recognized thus far:

His own.

He had to stop this, had to put it right, without a moment’s delay.

Christopher hurriedly finished dressing, buttoning up his jacket and making himself presentable. He checked his hat in the faded, smoky glass of a small mirror they kept balanced up on the mantlepiece, and stared at himself in the eye for one last time.

Satisfied that his appearance was befitting a meeting with the Major, he stepped outside, and hurried over to the building that housed offices for the higher ranks to conduct their business.

The Major had a small room on the lower floor, and Christopher moved towards it with a pace born of determination. Other men coming towards him changed track to let him through. They must have seen the single-mindedness with which he was now approaching his goal.

At the office, however, a young man stationed on guard duty held up a hand to stop him.

“What is your business with the Major?” he asked.

“I have something to tell him,” Christopher said. “Something urgent.”

“And do you have an appointment?”

“No. No – this came up suddenly. Please, it’s very important.”

“Has it to do with the war effort?” the young soldier asked officiously.

“Well, no.”

“Is it of tactical significance?”

“No, it’s not that kind of…”

“Has someone been killed or otherwise injured?”

“Well, only in the sense of wounded pride.”

“Then your business with the Major is not urgent,” the soldier said decisively. “You will be required to call back at a later time.”

“I’ll wait here,” Christopher said, standing his ground.

The young soldier sighed. “As you are my senior officer, sir, I cannot tell you not to do that. However, I would have you know that the Major is not best pleased to have his afternoon disturbed, and has instructed me not to let a single other person inside.”

“I will wait,” Christopher said stubbornly.

He retreated to the opposite side of the hall, a few paces away, and leaned against it. Several times, higher-ranking men moved through the corridor, forcing him to straighten up and stand to attention as they passed.

He thought about what he would say to the Major, and how he would explain what had happened.

Of course, there was likely no way that he would be able to remove his own name from the whole sorry affair. There might be repercussions for that, which might even set him back further than he had risen so far.

But there was nothing for it. He had to do the right thing.

At last, there was the sound of movement from behind the door. Christopher sprang up as he heard voices moving closer, along with footsteps.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure,” the Major was saying.

The door opened, and Christopher felt his jaw drop open.

“My thanks, Major,” his guest said, giving Christopher a smile before walking down the hall towards the exit.

“I’m not to be disturbed again, am I?” the Major asked sternly. He was directing the question towards his young guard, but it was Christopher that he looked to for an answer.

Christopher could only shake his head tightly, managing to force out a quiet, “No, sir.”

Then he turned and strode down the corridor himself, hurrying so that he would not lose sight of Jasper’s retreating back ahead of him.

Chapter 17

“Thank goodness they are going at last,” Juliana said, watching out of an upstairs window as the servants loaded box after bag onto the waiting coach.

“You shouldn’t be so unkind,” Mary said, glancing around and giggling. “At least not while there is still a chance that the Baroness will hear you.”

“Juliana! Lady Mary!”

Juliana sighed. “Mama is calling us,” she said. “I suppose we are expected to say farewell.”

Juliana trailed reluctantly down the stairs, with Mary following after her. There was quite a party awaiting them in the sitting room – the Baroness, John, the Duke and Duchess, and Aunt Bertha all sat about, and turned their attention on both girls as they entered.

“Juliana,” the Duchess began. “Lady Ascot has a proposal for both of you girls. As you know, their stay here in Bath is at an end.”

“And we will miss them greatly,” Juliana said with a smile and a dip of her head, largely prompted by Mary’s subtle elbow in her side.

“Yes, well, perhaps you won’t need to,” the Duchess went on. “In fact, the Baroness has invited you both to stay with them at their home for a few weeks.”

Juliana felt heat begin to race up her cheeks. Oh, if only the floor of the sitting room might neatly open up and swallow her whole. How she had put herself right where they wanted her, with her insipid little comment about missing their company! How was she ever supposed to refuse now?

“That sounds wonderful,” Mary said, taking the lead. She no doubt sensed that her friend was unable to speak at that moment.

“You will both go, of course?” the Duke rumbled in his low voice. “Your mother and I could see no reason why you should not, and Mrs. Reffern has graciously affirmed that she will not take it as an affront to be without your company. In point of fact, we shall stay here as her guests in the meanwhile.”

So, that was it. No way out. It would not be possible for the pair of them to return to Juliana’s home, since her parents would not be there. They were being unceremoniously removed from the house in Bath. As for Mary’s home, she had already planned to spend the whole spring away with Juliana – her family would be ill-prepared to accept not only her presence but also another mouth to feed.

So it was settled, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“We would be delighted,” Juliana said, clasping onto Mary’s arm in a show of joyful exuberance. In truth, she needed something to steady herself at that moment.

Mary clutched her carefully, keeping her on her feet. For that, Juliana was exceptionally grateful. It did nothing, however, to dispel the cloud of heaviness that now hung over her: the thought of long weeks of walks with the Baroness, of endless criticism, and of further exhortations on the suitability of their match – and all without interruption…

Weeks! She could hardly stomach it.

Around them, the adults were busy talking, their voices filling the air like the buzzing of summer-drunk bees. Juliana barely heard a word of it, except to dimly know that she had been instructed to assist the maids with packing immediately to ensure nothing was left behind.

She wandered up the stairs in a daze, only managing to get her footing right by following Mary.

“Oh, dear, love,” Mary said, pulling her into an embrace in the privacy of their shared room. “It shan’t be as bad as you think. I will do my best to make it tolerable for you.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Juliana said, moving slowly as if she had only just woken from a dream. “You are truly my strength at this moment. I don’t know how I will manage it. All that time batting off their advances. And Christopher so far away, too.”

“Not so far away that you cannot write,” Mary reminded her. “If you’d like, I can pretend the letters are from myself, to avoid the suspicion of the Baroness. We will have a grand old time, I promise you. Even if it means we have to get up early and go on long walks of our own to avoid being ensnared.”

“You are a true friend,” Juliana said, patting at her eyes to draw away the excess moisture that seemed to have gathered there.

The packing took a regrettably short time. After all, the girls had only brought a small selection of their possessions for their stay, and it needed only to be put back into cases again – there were only a few new items for which places needed to be found. Then everything was carried onto the coach along with the rest, and at long last they were ready to depart.

Far too soon, as far as Juliana was concerned.

She managed to keep up a respectable veneer as she embraced her mother and stepfather goodbye, as well as Aunt Bertha. Flashes of anger towards all of them were not enough to break her from her melancholy.

It was their fault she was to suffer through this, and yet she somehow could not muster the energy for rage. This was how it was to be, she supposed, for someone who was not yet married and yet of marriageable age.

They were seated in the carriage and set off on their journey in such a flurry that Juliana barely had the opportunity to take it all in. She soon discovered herself sitting neatly alongside Mary, with cousin John opposite her and the Baroness on his side.

“We’ll have some opportunities for merrymaking,” John was saying, a small twinkle in his eye as he looked between both of the girls.

“How so?” Mary asked, with a polite tone.

“Our neighbors are holding a ball,” he announced.

Had he sensed Juliana’s discomfort and sought to soften the blow? Whatever the cause of his news coming at that moment, she was glad of it.

“We do get up to a bit of fun out in the countryside from time to time!”

“A ball?” Juliana repeated, looking up. Maybe this would not be such a horrible visit from end to end, after all. There was, at least, to be one thing to look forward to.

“I will let them know of your attendance as soon as we return,” John said happily. “Mother does not like to attend these occasions – isn’t that right, Mother? But I have a married sister who will easily be called upon to chaperone you.”

Juliana even managed a smile. “That would be most delightful,” she said, and this time she actually meant it.

An evening without the Baroness! What joy – she would have gone to stand in a pig farm for the whole night if she could be promised such a reprieve. The dancing would only be a bonus.

The others continued talking amongst themselves, but Juliana’s thoughts were elsewhere.

They had trailed away to the last time she had seen Christopher at a ball – no, not the last. That had been the moment when she had entered the room on the arm of her poor dreary Lord Drevon, and Christopher’s face had fallen in like a poorly-baked cake.

No, the time before that had been the best. She remembered seeing him across the room, sparks flying over her skin as he took hold of her glove and led her out to dance…

“Have you missed my company, sir?” Juliana had asked him, giving him a coy look as they joined the other couples.

“How ever could you tell?” Christopher asked. “Except, of course, for the fact that my heart is heavy every moment that I am apart from you.”

“I could tell because you made no attempt to play a game,” Juliana laughed impishly. “Normally there is some childish impulse in you to make me wait. This night, you came right to me as soon as you entered.”

Christopher had the good grace to look a little abashed, yet only a little. “Am I to be scolded for holding you in high regard?” he asked, in mock hurt. “Am I to be berated for such warm affections that cannot be held from rushing to your side?”

“Quite the contrary,” Juliana said, dipping elegantly as the music stirred and bade her to move. “I am praising you for it. What I criticize, Lieutenant, is your previous error in judgment in forcing me to wait for your approach.”

“We are introduced,” Christopher pointed out, passing behind her and moving to the other side. “You could approach me at any time you wish.”

“And yet I am a Lady,” Juliana answered. “And I do not approach, but am approached. As I’m sure you well know. In point of fact, a great many young gentlemen seem to have the inclination to approach me on nights much like these.”

“Is that a warning, Juliana?” Christopher murmured into her ear as he passed. The use of her Christian name, normally reserved for when they could be sure that no one else could hear, sent a shiver down her spine and a flush of heat into her cheeks.

“It is,” she answered, keeping her voice as light and straight as she could so as not to betray the effect he had on her. “If you continue to make me wait, perhaps another will swoop in and sweep me away first.”

“I will not allow it,” Christopher said fiercely, passing around behind her again. He was gone that direction so many times in this dance that Juliana found herself feeling dizzy with the attempt to keep her eyes on him.

“There is only one way to prevent it,” Juliana reminded him.

“Then I shall be the first on your dance card at any social function from here unto eternity,” he said. “If I am not there, well, you shall have to make do. But if I am there, I shall have your first. And your last, my lady.”

“My first and my last,” Juliana murmured, then laughed, loving the way the sound brought a smile to his face. “There is some poetry in it.”

“Do not laugh at my poetry,” Christopher pretended to sulk. “If you do, I shall be too ashamed to tell you my lines about the stars in your hair and the moonlight in your eyes.”

“What a dreadful thing it would be to miss those,” Juliana said, biting her lip to keep from laughing out again. “You are wicked, Lieutenant. Thoroughly so.”

“Perhaps one day,” Christopher said, lowering his voice again so that only she would hear, “things between us will be properly sanctioned, and then you will be free to find out exactly how wicked I really am.”

Juliana was pleased that the music was done, for she was able to curtsey and avoid Christopher’s gaze as he bowed.

That was enough time for the sweetly-won blush to fade from her cheeks a little, enough that she might pass it off as exertion from the dance.

She made to walk away, but Christopher put up a hand to stop her.

“Where do you think you are going, Lady Juliana?” he asked.

“To return to my chaperone,” Juliana said, raising an eyebrow. “The dance is done.”

“And another begins,” Christopher said, self-satisfied. “Another which you will dance with me, my lady.”

“As you wish,” Juliana said, hiding a smile. “Though you can’t take all of my dances. People will talk.”

“Let them talk,” Christopher said, flashing her that smile that always made her a little weak at the knees. “Though you are right, I can’t take them the whole night long. At some stage, I will need to pause and rest, and imbibe some refreshment.”

“I took you for a military man, Lieutenant,” Juliana teased. “You mean to tell me you have no stamina?”

“I have stamina,” Christopher replied, his dark eyes sparkling at her. “I had thought to rest your feet, my lady.”

“Think not of my feet,” Juliana said, grinning as she launched into the steps of the new dance – a much more energetic number. “I fancy they will last longer than yours.”

It was a challenge that Christopher took in seriousness, but he was, at last, unable to meet it.

He had retired ruefully, promising to fetch her a drink at the same time, and that was when she had paused to return to her chaperone – at that particular night, her mother.

“Ah, there you are, Juliana,” the Duchess said, though Juliana had not a shred of doubt that she had known where her daughter was at any moment. “I’d like to introduce a lord who is visiting up this way from the south. He’s keen to seek your next dance.”

And the introductions had been made, and her mother had made it clear that this was the man she was to marry. And Lord Drevon had whisked her around the next dance, and the deal had been settled…

Juliana broke from her reverie to look across the opposite side of the carriage at cousin John. He was not the man for her – she knew that. They would be desperately unhappy together. He was so dull, and she would annoy or worry him to no end. That much was inevitable.

Last time, she had bowed to parental pressure. It had nearly cost her Christopher. This time, she vowed to herself she would not.

Though it might cost her social standing and grace, and even reputation, there was nothing for it. She would marry Christopher – John Woode be damned. She almost wanted to gasp at her own use of language, even inside her own head! But she meant it, every word.

She knew right there and then that she was not going to marry the man of her mother’s choice – no matter what it cost her.

Chapter 18

Christopher finally caught up with Jasper just as he was entering their shared quarters. Just as well – for it might be better, he mused, that no one else were around to hear what came next.

“Jasper,” he said, his voice coming out choked. “What business had you with the Major?”

Jasper said nothing, but nonchalantly walked over to his cot, unbuttoning his dress coat now that the need for formality was over.

“Jasper?” Christopher croaked again.

He was afraid that he knew the answer. Still, he needed to hear it. He needed to hear all of it. If he didn’t hear it said out loud from the man himself, he was afraid that he would never believe it.

He would never believe that he could have been such a fool.

“Shouldn’t you close the door?” Jasper suggested coolly. “I’m sure you do not wish for any passing busybody to hear the contents of our conversation.”

Christopher wanted to argue with him out of nothing but contrariness, but the man was right. If what he suspected was true, then he did not wish anyone else to be a party to it.

He did not want anyone to witness what a damned fool he had been.

“I’m sure you can guess,” Jasper said, turning around to show him the front of his uniform.

There was the insignia of a Captain on his shoulder now.

“You took it for yourself,” Christopher said, despite an urgency to breathe and a seeming inability to do so.

“Yes,” Jasper said. “I was just finalizing everything with the Major. Jolly good luck, as he put it, that a commission became available at such short notice.”

“I can’t believe you,” Christopher gasped, still feeling as though the whole room had been sucked dry of all oxygen.

“Well, don’t worry about it all,” Jasper said, waving a hand. “There won’t be any awkwardness. After all, I’m to move to new quarters tomorrow. It won’t do for a Captain to share with a Lieutenant, as I’m sure you will understand. And you’ll have a new friend to room with before long.”

“How did you even…?” Christopher shook his head. There were too many questions circling around in his mind, too many things to ask. “How did you pay for it?”

Jasper smirked. “That was the easiest part of the whole scheme,” he said. “You recall that little flash of scandal we had in Bath? With the young lady who accompanied me on what I believe is known as a midnight flit?”

Christopher scowled at him. Jasper knew well what they were called. He had been accused of them on enough occasions.

“Well, anyway,” Jasper continued, unperturbed, as he began packing away his possessions into his trunk. “There was some thought that I ought to be married in order to avoid scandal. The father suggested he was not happy about allowing his daughter to be married to a mere lieutenant. After that, I let him know that the matter could be fixed imminently.”

“So he lent you the money?” Christopher asked. He sank down onto his cot, watching as Jasper packed everything away.

“He gave me the money,” Jasper smirked.

“And will you marry her?”

Jasper laughed out loud. It was not a pleasant sound. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m a young man still. I have plenty of time to sow my wild oats yet. No point getting burdened down with a wife.”

“What if they shame you publicly?”

“Why would they do that?” Jasper snorted. “They’ll only shame the girl in the process. They should have kept a better eye on her. Then they might not be in this kind of mess.”

“You put them in this mess,” Christopher said wearily. “It isn’t their fault at all. You told the poor girl you loved her and that you had to run away together.”

“And she believed me,” Jasper said. He paused and sighed, a happy, contented kind of sigh. “Ah, these girls. They’re kept locked up in big houses for their whole lives and they just go helpless at the sight of a soldier. Don’t you just love how the world works?”

“No,” Christopher said, quietly. “I don’t.”

“More fool you,” Jasper retorted, moving back into action.

He did not have many things, and they were all packed away into the trunk now. He made a quick sweep of the room one final time, even checking underneath the cot, and then nodded with satisfaction.

“So you’re just going, then? Just like that?” Christopher asked.

“Just like that,” Jasper said. “It’s been fun, Christopher. Especially that part with your sister. Such a shame your brother caught us before I was able to sample the fruit. Still, it was fun enough. I’m sure I’ll see you around – after all, I’m your commanding officer now.”

Jasper picked up his trunk, and headed for the door. It closed behind him with a dull thud that did not even make Christopher flinch.

He sat still, simply staring at the spot where Jasper had been. At where he had stood only a moment before, laying everything out. All of it.

How had Christopher been so blind? He looked back now, and the scales were falling from his eyes.

He remembered all of the times when Jasper had been up to no good – sneaking away with ladies who should have been chaperoned, getting far too drunk and becoming a nuisance, and causing fights.

All those times, Christopher’s reputation had suffered just for the fact of being friends with him. Jasper, who had a poor reputation in the first place and was not even born a gentleman, did not suffer at all.

He remembered breakages, things that were knocked over in fights and had to be paid for. Apologies that had to be made.

All paid off by Christopher. All sorrowful words delivered by Christopher. No effort or payment on Jasper’s part.

He remembered the trouble that Jasper had caused, and how he had convinced Patience – Christopher’s sister – to run away with him. How she had been almost ruined. The rage and fury their elder brother Edmund had unleashed on him.

If anything, that last barb should have made Christopher want to jump up and hit Jasper on the nose. But he was right about being his superior officer now – and such behavior was not tolerated.

Besides which, Christopher felt as though he would never move another inch again. His feet were sunk into the floor like stones, his body as sewn together as the trunk of a tree, solid and unmoving.

He should have hit Jasper on the nose. Not just now. He should have done it all those months ago. When Patience’s honor and virtue were at stake – that was when he should have hit him on the nose. He should have dueled him and settled it right there and then.

But Christopher had simply let it go by, just as he had with every other bit of mischief that Jasper caused. He had let it go by because they were friends.

But they were never friends.

That was as clear as day to him now. Whatever they might have been, they were not friends. Jasper had seen him as a bank, an easy target, someone who would go along with his schemes and not challenge him.

Christopher had been duped – taken in by Jasper’s charm, just as easily as all of those girls. The only difference between them was that they had expected marriage, while he had expected loyalty.

On the surface of it, it was plain enough to see now that he had been the one who was most foolish, for what he expected came at the far greater price.

A price that Jasper, apparently, would never have been willing to pay. There was only one person who Jasper was loyal to – and that was his own self.

And there was one more complication to all of this: the fact that Juliana, now, would have to wait longer than expected for her man to become a Captain. A very fine wrinkle indeed which was going to cause him no end of trouble.

Christopher sighed, sitting on his cot, and finally buried his head in his hands as he leaned to put his elbows on his knees.

How could he have been so stupid, not to have seen the very thing that was in front of his eyes for all of this time?

Chapter 19

The journey had been seemingly interminably long. Juliana began to lose all concept of time, and was bored beyond any remaining sensation. The same could be said of her body, which had long ago gone numb from sitting in the same place for such long hours.

They had made one single stop at around noon, and that had been for a scheduled luncheon. In the end, the Baroness had decided that the chosen location, a wayside inn, was not befitting travelers of her status, and so she had ordered them all back to the coach. The innkeeper had sent his young son to wait on them there, with long wooden trays that fitted across their knees to provide them a table of sorts.

It had been perhaps the most uncomfortable meal of Juliana’s life – not just because of the hard seats and her already weary limbs, which had had far too short a time to stretch, but also for her close proximity to the Baroness and John Woode while they ate.

It had been made all the more uncomfortable still when she had the bright idea to voice concerns that this was not, in fact, any better than eating inside the inn. Apparently, the one thing the Baroness disliked above all other things was to have her opinion – which was as good as the word of law for those around her – questioned in any way.

Juliana wondered idly if it was better that she had not discovered this fact until now, or whether she should have been better off arguing with her on purpose in Bath - at which juncture she might never have been invited on this tiresome visit.

At last, the Baroness’ home appeared on the horizon. John became animated, talking of how they would enjoy the grounds and how he would show them to the family graveyard. A choice of activity which Juliana had no concept of why on earth it might have seemed inviting to anyone except a member of the family. Though when she remembered that he intended for her to become a member of said family, the realization was sickeningly clear.

Indeed, there was a little excitement in the air as they approached the manor house, though Juliana told herself it was just pleasure at the concept of being able to stretch her legs once more. She could hardly wait for after supper, when she might be unlaced from the stifling dress which she had worn for the trip. The sun was already low in the sky, so she had hope that she would not have to wait long.

The setting orb cast golden light across the estate as they pulled through the gates, and it lingered the long distance between those and the house. From there, Juliana and Mary, who were the ones sat facing forwards, could see the approach of the building itself, and both were suitably awed by its sheer size.

It loomed in front of them like a great mass of a creature that was set to swallow the landscape whole. It was of a sprawling form, with many different mismatched wings and towers that seemed to have been built at different times. Some parts of the home might have been a hundred or two hundred years old, and others had been built only recently.

“It’s an ongoing project,” John said proudly, seeing the surprise on the girls’ faces. “Each generation of Woodes has added more and more onto the edifice. It stands as a testament to our continued wealth and strength as a family throughout the ages.”

This, Juliana thought, perhaps explained cousin John’s tedious obsession with architecture. At least she had some idea of its origins now, though the thought did not make it any less of a boring topic.

“It does not become you to brag,” the Baroness intoned.

“Yes, Mother,” John said meekly. There was a bravery about his countenance, however, that suggested he was just proud enough of the place where he had grown up to say it again if prompted.

The splendor of the place did not diminish, but rather only increased as they approached closer.

From far away one could only grasp the scale in a theoretical sense. Close up, on the other hand, it was difficult to deny just how high up the towers soared and how far across each wing stretched.

Somewhere in the distance, a number of horses whinnied, and those that pulled the coach gave a response.

It was in some kind of daze that Juliana descended from the coach with John’s hand, the immense impression of the Woode residence still making its mark upon her. She turned to look at Mary, who had a similarly wonderous look on her face.

It was more than either of them had expected.

They made a short supper in the dining hall, and then the Baroness hustled her new charges away in the charge of the housekeeper. The stern old woman looked to be made of similar stuff to her mistress, and she said barely a word as she showed Mary and Juliana to their rooms.

Rooms, plural - for they were not wanting at the Woode residence, and there was no need for them to share.

Alone, Juliana collected her thoughts. She had always imagined her family to be wealthy, and visits to her friends and neighbors – particularly Mary’s home – reinforced this notion strongly. To suddenly find herself in this bastion of wealth, which might as well have been a bank for all the money it likely contained within its walls, was a shock to her entirely.

In truth, it put her in a new place – a place far below the Baroness. It made her gulp a little to think of how she had spoken with her previously, knowing as she did now that the Baroness was perhaps one of the wealthiest women in all of England.

She was used to living like a queen. No wonder that she made proclamations as if she were one.

It did not take them long to settle into the big house, even though Mary and Juliana deliberately scared themselves by staying up in one another’s rooms and telling ghost stories.

In truth, they were a little scared in the first place at being in such a space, since it was of the character that normally appeared in the gothic novels that they liked to read. Adding the ghost stories only gave them a reason to laugh at the fear, if not actually diminishing it.

There were so many servants scuttling about the place that Juliana had still not learned their names after three days of being there, and she was still seeing new faces. It seemed rather excessive, given that only the Baroness and John remained as residents. John explained to them, however, that his sisters and their husbands, and his brothers with their wives, would often stop by to visit.

If she lived in such a house, Juliana had to admit that she would also stop by to visit as regularly as possible – even if it meant facing down the stern Baroness.

She had even forgotten to be bored on the dull walks around the grounds, in which the four of them joined various configurations to discuss topics as various as the weather, the statues, and the formal gardens. Instead, she and Mary were working one another up into a frenzied excitement about the ball.

There was just one thing to be settled before they attended, and that was new dresses – for it was clear that any visitor from the Woode residence would be expected to wear great finery.

“You ladies should visit the local town tomorrow and have some new gowns made up,” John suggested on their third day’s walk. “I will accompany you, along with our housekeeper. She always has errands to run, and will be a fair chaperone for the two of you. I can guide you to a shop that has much store set by it, even though it may be small. All the fashionable ladies in these parts attend it.”

Juliana cooed with delight. Her mother had given her a small allowance for just such a purchase, and she could not wait to spend it.

“Perhaps I will stay at home,” Mary suggested shyly.

Juliana gave her an odd look. “Why ever might you do that? You love ordering new dresses.”

Mary cleared her throat uncomfortably. “This is delicate, but… my parents did not foresee my coming out here when I left home. I was to stay with Juliana only and visit Bath, and the dresses I brought with me were fit enough for that purpose.”

Juliana was crestfallen at the thought that her friend might not be able to enjoy a new gown. For her part, the allowance would not stretch to two. It was a great regret, but she had nothing to offer.

“Fie on that,” John said hotly, earning an outraged tut from the Baroness. “We shall see to it that you have a fine gown for the ball, Lady Mary. You are our guest, and I will not have you feeling out of place.”

“Oh, my – that is far too generous, sir,” Mary cried.

“Nonsense,” John said. His attempt at sternness only made him puffed-up, though Juliana did like to see him for once taking the lead in any kind of matter. “It is settled. I shall instruct the housekeeper to take a generous purse and ensure that you are catered for properly.”

“It is so kind of you,” Mary said. She seemed almost on the verge of tears, though Juliana could not tell if she was merely acting her part very deftly. “I thank you greatly, sir. And you, my lady, of course.”

The Baroness harrumphed, which was as close to a pleased acknowledgment as any of them could ever hope to get.

So it was that, on the next morning, Juliana and Mary awoke with a strong sense of excitement that had them rushing towards one another and meeting in the hall.

Settling on Juliana’s room as a place to prepare themselves for the day ahead, they chattered gaily, happy to be going out into the town and also at the prospect of new gowns.

There was little in the world that stirred their imagination and their joy quite like the idea of a new gown. There was nothing to be compared to it. Going out to select the fabric, admiring patterns. It was a joy that made their hearts leap into their throats.

It was not just the new gown itself, though that was its own delight: something new to be treasured, to be felt and smoothed and admired in their own time.

No, it was the prospects that the dress embodied. The idea of turning heads at a ball, of having an approach from a young man who was taken enough to wish to dance with them. The compliments one might get from one’s contemporaries, and even from the elder members of the population if the dress was flattering enough.

The sense of pride when one walked into a room in one’s best new dress, feeling for all the world as though you might be wearing the finest garment known to all man!

And even before all that, there was the fun of the selection itself. Juliana liked to judge between choices, until she finally settled on one that had lit up her eyes and become her heart’s firmest desire at that single moment.

Mary was just as excited that day - perhaps even more so, for it was an enjoyable prospect indeed for her to get something new as a gift from her host.

“Oh, Juliana, look at this one,” Mary said, holding up a pale pink chiffon. “It will suit your complexion perfectly. Not to mention it will go well with those ribbons that you like in your hair.”

Mary did not need to say out loud which ribbons they were: Christopher’s ribbons. It was a secret between just the two of them.

“And, Mary! See this here, the blue taffeta. Oh, Mary, you should be absolutely darling in that.”

They giggled and spun through the shop, quite exasperating the stern, chaperoning housekeeper. One might have thought that enjoyment were a crime, judging from the pursing of her lips at every fresh burst of laughter that the girls gave out.

Finally, they had each chosen what they needed for their gowns, and all that remained was for them to be paid for.

“Oh, I feel so guilty,” Mary said, blushing darkly as the housekeeper settled the accounts. “He is not even my cousin, but yours. I am such a nuisance guest.”

“Don’t be silly, Mary,” Juliana tutted. “If he thought it was a nuisance, he would never have offered. You see where they live. Do you truly believe this is any great expense, compared to what they are used to?”

Mary looked at the floor as she fidgeted, one of her feet pushing back and forth across the wooden floors. “I should not think they became as wealthy as all that by spending money wherever they liked,” she said. “Rather, I’d think it more conducive to live a simple life without fripperies.”

“And cousin John cannot possibly think this a frippery,” Juliana said firmly. “For it was his idea all along. No feeling guilty, Mary. I shall be most upset with you if you do.”

Mary managed a smile at that, and then a chuckle. “You are an impossible one, Juliana,” she said. “Threatening me with the guilt of upsetting you if I do not forget my guilt.”

“I am glad that it worked,” Juliana said self-satisfied, leading her back out into the street again where John was already waiting with their carriage.

“Your trip was a successful one?” he inquired, looking between them with a peculiar flush on his face.

“Quite successful,” Juliana agreed, breezing by him to enter the carriage.

“And for you, Lady Mary?” John pressed.

“Indeed, I can only thank you again for your kind offer, sir,” Mary said.

Juliana noted that Mary was blushing madly when she entered the carriage, but said not a word. Nor did she comment when cousin John was so flustered that he almost fell back out of the carriage in his haste to follow her into it.

Chapter 20

Christopher sat in his empty room – which was a small blessing, in light of the reasons for which it was empty – and hastily tugged at the paper of the envelope until it was torn enough to slide the letter out from inside.

He had been waiting for just such a letter, and he had his suspicions that it was one of great importance.

Within the first two lines of Edmund’s hurried scrawl, he knew that he had been right.

Brother,

Forgive my brevity, but I must be quick. I am loath to stay away from my present occupation for long, which is pacing up and down outside Joanna’s room while the midwife attends her!

She will birth our child anon. I am awaiting good news to send after this letter but now I must return. I wish you would come to join us post-haste to share in our celebrations!

Yours,

Edmund Hardwicke

Christopher grinned to himself as he read Edmund’s short note. It was, at least, some good news to enjoy. With so much going wrong in recent weeks, it felt like a blessing from above to hear such tidings at this moment.

It had not been long since his return from his leave to Bath, and normally he would have tried to stay at least a while before cutting out again. After all, he was trying to become a Captain – and if you did not find a commission that was available to buy, the other way to do it was to be recommended highly by other officers who supported your promotion.

But that was before – and now Christopher could not help but feel that there were other, more pressing matters in life. Like that of supporting your family, a family that had already seen great loss, during moments of great happiness.

Christopher began packing immediately, and took leave of his Major – finally getting to have that meeting after all. The man did not appear best pleased, but Christopher swore he would not go on leave again for a long while and that he would display exemplary conduct on his return.

Whether it was his persuasive manner, or whether the Major did not greatly care as to his presence or absence, it was all approved and ratified.

It was a great relief to be on the road again. However uncomfortable the mail coach was, at least it was not connected in any way to the military – and to the things that had befallen him.

His companions for the best part of the journey were an old woman, who clutched desperately at a carpetbag and would not let go; an older Captain, who kept quietly to himself and seemed to be going home for some sort of bad news; and a dog, who had hopped on at the second town they passed through and showed no indication of wishing to get off.

Christopher had no way of knowing whether the dog belonged to the driver, or someone who was riding up front with him, or was just a stray who had cunningly figured out the easiest way to traverse to another location.

The journey was a long one, but it was made short by his happy expectations. His mind drifted as the countryside rolled by, showing old familiar views which he had had to traverse many a time before.

He was thinking about everything that had happened. In particular, everything that had happened with Jasper.

He saw it in his mind like he was remembering a nightmare. Parts were hazy and seemed unreal, while others were all too clear.

It had been over a week, but still he could not shake the total disappointment in himself from his mind. How had he been so stupid? That one question repeated itself over and over in his head.

But at least he was going to the two people in the world whose honor, opinion, and intelligence he valued above all others.

Edmund and Joanna had time and again given him a model to follow. Too bad that, more often than not, he had ignored both their advice and their example.

All that would change, now. He made a solemn promise to himself not to be made a fool of again.

The miles passed without incident. One by one, the other passengers disappeared, replaced by others or not at all. The dog finally disembarked when Christopher was perhaps an hour from home.

Then he only had to blink and he was in the local village, from where he was able to entice a local driver with the promise of a cash payment - to be received from Jenkins, the family’s elderly butler, upon arrival.

And then he was home.

Hardwicke Hall rose before him, a familiar sight that he had not realized he had been badly longing for before he saw it again. Then he felt a great rush of happiness within his chest at the fact that he was home – a swelling of feeling that went deeply through him and buoyed him up so light that he may as well have floated out of the coach.

To be home again – what a wonderful feeling it was.

He had scarcely disembarked from the coach, with a clatter into the gravel of the driveway, when Jenkins rushed out to greet him.

“My lord, the Earl has been waiting most anxiously for you,” he managed, in-between gasps for breath. The man really was getting quite elderly and had no business in running around like that.

“What of Lady Kelt? And the baby?” Christopher burst out.

It had been a challenge for his tongue to get used to calling her that – since he had known her for so long in their first acquaintance as simply a governess – but somehow, even in his excitement, it had at last held.

“Both fine and healthy,” Jenkins said. “A daughter is born. They await your company upstairs in the master bedroom.”

Christopher thanked him and rushed away, eager to see his newborn niece, leaving Jenkins to deal with both the driver and his luggage.

He ran up the stairs two at a time, barely pausing to notice several changes in the entrance hall since his last visit: new greenery, and a few small pieces of furniture he did not recognize. Joanna’s influence on the place grew day by day.

As he rounded the top of the stairs and made for the far end of the corridor, he could hear voices he recognized from an open door.

The sound alone made his heart near fit to burst in his chest, and when he skidded to a stop in the doorway and took in the scene before him, he was not strong enough to prevent the gathering of tears in his eyes.

Joanna lay in the bed, her hair down around her shoulders and loose. She looked more informal than he had ever seen her, and she was flushed with a kind of joyous exhaustion. In her arms was cradled a small package of fine fabric, wrapped over and around so that only a tiny pink face peeked out, for now gently sleeping.

Beside her, Edmund was half-sitting on the bed, an arm protectively crooked over and around his wife and their new daughter. Patience and Amy, their younger sisters, were settled on chairs at Joanna’s side of the bed, both of them peering with joy and wonder at that same small bundle.

That was, until they saw who it was that had arrived. Then they shouted his name and rushed towards him with abandon, Patience throwing her arms around his shoulders while Amy captured his waist. She had grown a few inches since he was last home, a fact which he took in dimly amongst all the other sensations that assaulted him.

“Congratulations, brother,” Christopher said, his voice choked. He grinned and nodded to Joanna. “Sister.”

She smiled warmly at his inclusion of her in their family. "Thank you, Uncle Christopher.”

The use of his newly-earned title sent such a flush of warmth through him that he could do nothing but smile dumbly, knowing he must look the absolute picture of a senseless man.

“I am glad you were able to join us,” Edmund said, getting up and going over to shake Christopher’s hand. “Our little family is almost complete.”

“Almost,” Christopher agreed, looking around. “Samuel is still away at school?”

“Yes. It’s such a long journey, we thought it wouldn’t be right to pull him out now. He has missed so much already. They will soon be on a break, at which time he will return home anyway.”

Their younger brother was at boarding school again at last, after a long recovery from an almost-deadly illness had kept him away. Christopher knew that Samuel would be disappointed to miss out on this moment, but he had dreamed for so long of joining the other boys at school – he would be loath to leave them.

“Oh, Christopher,” Joanna said, smiling and beckoning him closer. “We are so happy to see you. We had wondered if you would come.”

“Why would I not?” Christopher flashed her a grin. “Miss out on this? A thousand horses and all the Frenchmen in France could not keep me away.”

Everyone laughed at his choice of expression as he moved closer, taking what had been Patience’s seat in order to see the baby properly.

“We are naming her Elizabeth, after Mother,” Edmund said, a multitude of emotions clogging his throat.

Christopher only glanced up and nodded, too overcome with emotions on his own side to give a response. It was a beautiful and fitting tribute.

They spent some hours huddled together, a family again, all murmuring in delight over the newest addition to their group. They even laughed when little Elizabeth woke and cried as loudly as she could, signaling the exit of everyone else so that Joanna could feed the hungry baby.

Downstairs, in the sitting room, Christopher was able to draw Edmund aside as he poured them each a brandy.

“Brother, I have need of your help and advice,” he admitted. “I have got myself into a situation that I would rather be without… But since I am in it, I have to decide in which direction to move forward.”

Edmund tilted his head and gave him a serious look. “I will listen,” he said.

There must have been some recognition in him of Christopher’s solemn nature – a true rarity – for he did not attempt to put the conversation off or make light of it. He steered Christopher to a corner by the fireplace instead, away from where the girls giggled together, and allowed him to talk.

And Christopher talked. From the moment he opened his mouth, he spilled out all of the details: his intermittent romance with Juliana, and how she had given him to believe at last that she wanted him above all others.

His desperate need to impress the family, and how he had been turned away from their home in Bath.

His plan to become a Captain, and how Jasper had come up with an idea to make it happen.

To his credit, Edmund did not interrupt or make any sound of disgust as Christopher laid out the details. He frowned in concentration as he listened, but that was all.

Christopher explained the cold feet he had got even as they carried out the plan, and how he had known it was wrong – but Jasper had talked him round. He told him how he had decided to come clean to the Major, only to find Jasper there, claiming the captaincy for himself.

And he confessed how he worried, now, that he would never have the opportunity to be good enough for Juliana. That his association with Jasper had cost him his reputation for no gain. How he had no idea what to do next, or which course of action would benefit him the most.

Edmund listened to it all, and then paused and looked to the fire as he digested it all.

“You know the answer yourself, Christopher,” he said at last.

“I do?” Christopher asked. He was almost indignant – hadn’t he come here to ask these questions? Why should he have done so if he already knew what the answer would be?

“Of course you do. You have said it all yourself in the course of your explanation.”

Christopher thought about that for a moment.

“You told me that you see, now, how Jasper was never your friend in truth,” Edmund went on. “You told me how awful you felt about Captain Brazen’s resignation, and that you had wanted to undo it as soon as it was achieved. What has changed since then?”

Christopher considered it. The only change had been Jasper’s promotion – and since Jasper was not his friend, that meant nothing to him. And if it meant nothing to him…

“Nothing has changed,” he said, earning a nod from Edmund.

“Then you know what is the right thing to do on your return,” Edmund said.

Christopher looked him in the eye and nodded firmly.

At last, he did know.

“But you will not be rushing off immediately, I hope?” Edmund asked, clapping him on the shoulder. “I am enjoying having my brother home. You will stay with us for a week, perhaps?”

“I will,” Christopher agreed, feeling as though he was exactly where he was supposed to be at that moment.

And while he felt the urgency of returning to his barracks to do what needed to be done, he also knew that he was in such a fragile state of mind that some time at home was needed if he was to summon the courage required.

Chapter 21

“Mary, you should wear your hair like Lady Wester did last month in Bath,” Juliana said eagerly. “It would suit you to no end. Don’t you think?”

“Oh, but I do not know how it was done,” Mary protested. “Do you think the maids will know it?”

“I will describe it to them,” Juliana said, beckoning over one of the many denizens of Lady Ascot’s personal army, who had been laying out their dresses.

It was a few hours to go before they would need to bundle into the Baroness’ carriage to head out to the ball, but Mary and Juliana were already so giddy with excitement that they could barely contain themselves.

The preceding days had been so dull, filled with nothing but long walks and the Baroness’ intonations on every area of life that insulted her.

Mary, however, had something of a glow about her cheeks; Juliana commented on how the country air seemed to be doing her a world of good, and Mary could not help but agree.

Their new dresses were resplendent, and already Juliana could picture what a scene they would make when they entered into the ballroom.

“Do you think she has it, Juliana?” Mary asked. “I cannot see the back.”

Juliana rose and walked over to stand behind her friend, examining the elaborate hairstyle that the maid had created.

“Yes, I dare say she has captured it correctly. You look marvelous, Mary. Tell me, how are you so excited about the ball tonight? You normally chide me for being too girlish.”

Mary blushed, deepening Juliana’s suspicions further. “Well, I have been without entertainment for so long,” she stammered.

“Besides, I do see that it is past time I attract myself a husband. I have had no great romance like yours with Christopher. I must get started if I am to avoid becoming an old maid.”

Juliana snorted. “You are not yet at risk of that,” she asserted.

“You have had one engagement and two promises thereof already,” Mary reminded her with a sigh. “I have not been so much as courted.”

“All nonsense,” Juliana told her. “You are quite the eligible young lady, and you will get your betrothal, I assure you of that. Just because I have received more does not mean you are unpopular yourself. I think I am something of an unusual case, anyway.”

“How so?”

Juliana smirked. “Because my mother has the unusual convincing power to align almost anyone she wishes with my hand.

“Remember that only one of those attempts is of any interest to me at all, and the others are motivated by the joining of great families rather than love or affection.”

“Most marriages are not made from love or affection,” Mary said quietly, staring at her own reflection in the glass.

“Still, I do wish to look as good as I may. If I attract the attention of a lord, perhaps I can then have the opportunity to explain to him all the connections of my family and how they may be of use to him.”

Juliana leaned over and planted an affectionate kiss on Mary’s forehead.

“My dear Mary,” she said. “If sweetness were the only thing on a man’s mind, you would be the most eligible woman in all the land, and you would have to fight them away from your door.”

“And what of yourself?” Mary asked, her eyes crinkling with a laugh.

“I should be at the back of the room on my own, wondering idly when one of those dullards would notice me,” Juliana laughed.

Their preparations done, the two girls descended the stairs at last and joined John Woode, who was waiting for them in the grand entrance hall.

“My ladies,” he said, looking at them with something akin to awe.

“I must thank you again for my new gown, my lord,” Mary said shyly.

“It suits you mighty well,” John said, flushing a little and tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Shall we get into the carriage?”

The Baroness had set out one of their most decorative carriages to pull them to the ball. It was an ornate affair, in black but painted large with the family crest on either side, so that the doors opened out through the middle of it.

It was pulled by six fine grey horses, which were dressed in their own livery of finely-treated leather harnesses and plumed bridles.

Lady Easterby, who was John’s married aunt and therefore an eminently suitable chaperone, was already seated inside. It seemed the carriage had gone first to fetch her from her neighboring estate before coming to them.

She was an older woman with a stern, sour look so close to that of the Baroness that Juliana almost shuddered.

Juliana had never arrived to a ball in such pomp, and that was a matter for considerable excitement, even if she had no intention or desire of impressing anyone at this particular ball. After all, Christopher was a long way away at his barracks.

It was not long after they arrived, however, that Juliana discovered a reason to not be so excited after all.

“I shall ask for the honor of your first two dances,” John said, seemingly following an elbow to the ribs from his aunt. “If you will permit me, Lady Juliana.”

“Oh – yes,” Juliana said, completely dismayed yet fully understanding that she was not in a position to refuse him. “Of course, cousin.”

“And your last dance, which goes without saying,” John said, with a casual air.

“Naturally,” Juliana agreed, finding it necessary to turn away just then and survey the crowd that even now milled around the space in order to hide her expression from him.

“Until then, I shall engage a few friends in conversation,” John said, smiling amiably and waving at someone who was already within the grand ballroom.

Juliana inclined her head gracefully and waited until he was far out of earshot before turning to Mary with a look of horror.

“Oh! Mary!” she whispered, ensuring that the Baroness could not catch her words. “How dull! How terribly awful!”

Mary gave her a smile, though it was stretched a little thin. “Juliana, it is only dancing.”

“But I had thought this would be a night of fun,” Juliana groaned. “Instead I am to spend all of my time with that old bore.

“Not only that, but this is a clear declaration. Tomorrow it will be long walks on the grounds, I am sure of it. He means to ask me to be his wife before this visit is over.”

“Would it be so terrible?” Mary asked.

There was an earnestness in her gaze, a search for the truth of the matter. Juliana took that gaze and turned it within herself, and found the answer.

“Yes,” she said. “It would. I cannot find myself pledged to another man, and if he asks, I daresay my mother will disown me for refusing him. But – Christopher!”

Mary nodded, and there was a calm understanding in her eyes now that somehow made Juliana feel completely reassured.

“I see,” she said. “Then I will help you, my dear friend. I will ask your cousin John Woode to take the second dance with me instead. Follow me now and we will persuade him.”

Juliana made her way across the ballroom, for once following in Mary’s footsteps. She was so often the one to lead that it was quite an alien feeling.

There was but a brief and simple conversation between them, but it seemed to have the desired effect, for soon John was turning to them both with an expression of deep regret and concern.

“How remiss of me!” he said. “I am in your debt, Lady Mary, for pointing out my mistake without any shred of rebuke. What must you think of me? I am a cad, truly, a cad!”

“Please, do not think so badly of yourself, cousin,” Juliana smiled gently. She hoped that this repeated reminder of their familial relationship might help to put the term ‘wife’ further out of his mind.

“No, I am a scoundrel, a bounder,” John continued, shaking his head in sorrow. “To have allowed our young guest – a beautiful young lady, who should be the talk of any ball – to go without a dance on both her first and her second – oh, what a dastardly man I am!”

“It is soon forgotten,” Mary said, flushing slightly under his praise. “So long, that is, as Lady Juliana will allow me to steal her second dance.”

“With gladness for one I consider as a sister,” Juliana said.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Mary, perceiving that their scheme had worked and would give her at least some relief. “I could never allow you to go without a dance, my dearest Lady Mary.”

“Then it is settled,” John said with obvious relief. “My duties are once more firmly appropriated to their correct place. Oh, what must you think of me, ladies?

“I must seem some uncivilized lout, unfamiliar with the cordiality of pleasant society. I swear to you, it was a lapse, no more. I had not thought it to be a slight.”

“No offense is taken on my part,” Mary said, twisting her gloved hands together. “All is forgiven.”

“I am right glad to hear it,” John announced, wiping a hand quickly over his brow. “The dancing should begin anon. You ladies are too kind to me, too kind indeed.”

Chapter 22

“You will keep her in your sights?” Edmund asked, for the thousandth time.

“Of course I will,” Christopher said, trying to keep any facetiousness out of his tone.

“Joanna and I are far too tired, what with the crying in the night, and the feeding, and all the rest of it,” Edmund said.

“Normally I would be happy to chaperone her, but I did not foresee just how much work it would be! Such a small thing. It’s hard to credit it.”

“Such is the way of babes.”

“Yes, well. Still. You will keep her in your line of sight at all times – even when she is dancing – even if you are dancing?” Edmund continued to fret.

“Brother, it is not my first ball,” Christopher assured him, tightening the cufflinks on his finest dress uniform. “It is not even my first ball with Patience.”

Edmund’s jaw tightened, and Christopher perceived that perhaps reminding him of the occasion when he snuck his younger sister out to a masquerade without permission had been a poor choice.

He was saved, however, by the sound of an infant squalling from the other room, which had Edmund’s attention snapping in another direction.

“Hold that thought,” he muttered, striding away and raising his voice as he did so. “Joanna? Is the babe well?”

Christopher chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he checked his appearance in the old glass above his fireplace.

Edmund had become a protective father: perhaps too much so. Every time the baby raised its voice, he was striding off to check on it.

Perhaps it was not to be unexpected; after losing both of his parents, and then seeing his youngest brother and the love of his life both almost succumb to illness, there was no wonder he was a little nervous.

As far as Christopher could tell, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the child: she had a good, strong set of lungs, that much was certain.

At least Elizabeth’s cries had distracted him from their conversation. Christopher knew that he had been far from dependable in the past, and had indeed allowed Patience almost to fall into the clutches of his former friend.

But all of that was far behind him now – surely it was.

He would be a good chaperone, this time.

“Christopher, are you ready?” Patience called impatiently from the hallway outside of his room.

With another glance at himself, Christopher rolled his shoulders and stepped outside.

It was not as though he needed to take careful attention of his appearance this night – Juliana was far away, and would not see him. Any other ladies he might meet, well, they were nothing to him, and their opinions much the same.

“I’m ready,” he told her, grinning at how eager she was. “But our carriage is not set to depart for another quarter of the hour yet.”

“You are such a bore,” Patience said, punctuating the last word with a stomp of her foot on the wooden floorboards. “Why can’t we just go?”

“Wait to say goodnight to Edmund, first,” Christopher said, laying off teasing her. “I daresay he won’t have the energy to remain awake for our return, even if he tries to. I think little Elizabeth kept him up for most of the night again.”

“And me,” Patience sniffed. “Why does she have to be in the room next to mine?”

“You know why,” Christopher said, shaking his head at her.

The room had lain vacant; once Edmund’s room, before he had taken up residence in the master bedroom after their parents’ death. It was past time that someone else used it again.

Patience only sighed, and tossed her head. “Well, let’s go find him then, so we can be off,” she demanded.

After more admonishments and warnings, Edmund finally let them both out of his sight long after the carriage had been due to depart.

Joanna, who seemed to still carry a happy glow in spite of her sleepless nights, only sent them on their way with a kiss on Patience’s forehead.

Patience was almost incapable of sitting still inside the carriage. She bounced on her seat, kicked her heels against the floor, and looked from window to window so often that Christopher was getting dizzy just watching her.

“You’ll wear yourself out before we even get to the ball,” he remarked lazily, leaning his head back against the seat.

“No, I won’t,” Patience retorted immediately.

“Imagine how terrible it would be if we were to get all the way to the Haverham estate, disembark from our carriage, and then discover that you were already too tired for dancing,” he said.

Patience stopped moving almost immediately, sitting on her hands to keep them from fidgeting.

Christopher barked out a laugh at her reaction. “You are quite taken with this young man, aren’t you, sister?”

Patience had the girlish grace to bring a little color into her cheeks, even as a sly smile crept its way onto her mouth.

“He writes such wonderful letters,” she said.

“So long as that is all they are,” Christopher remarked, thinking in particular of the kind of things that Jasper would normally act upon after sending a letter.

“He is the perfect gentleman,” Patience scolded him. “My Lord Haverham is quite traditional. He even insists that we are always properly chaperoned.”

“I am impressed,” Christopher remarked, privately hoping that the boy was not some sort of monk who felt the need for a courtship as a cover.

“I shall dance with him all night,” Patience declared, looking out of the window with a wistful sigh and a dreamy smile.

Christopher for once said nothing, though a dozen smart remarks came to his mind. He let her have her happiness. She deserved it, after all.

The ball was already lively when they stepped through the doors of the Haverham mansion, and Christopher thought that if Patience looked around her any more animatedly for Edward, that her head might fall off.

He steered her by the arm into the ballroom, where everyone was gathered to wait for the first dance.

“He will find you anon,” Christopher said, reassuringly. “But first, dear sister mine, might I have the first dance?”

He was thinking about the fact that before long she might be married; his little sister, all grown up and a woman. This might be his last chance to share a childish dance, brother and sister together, as they did when she was younger.

Patience smiled at him. Perhaps she saw the ending of an era, too; perhaps she was simply young enough that the idea delighted her still.

“Of course, brother mine,” she replied, echoing his words teasingly.

Chapter 23

She was whirling around the floor, dipping around the other couples in the intricate steps of the dance, landing her always opposite John Woode.

It was not that she had the most pleasing of partners; yet still, she could appreciate the dance, which was one of her favorites.

Juliana’s heart almost stopped when she looked up and saw him, resplendent in a freshly washed and pressed red uniform, looking every inch the dashing officer. She could not believe her eyes for a long moment.

The dance took her away, her back to him, for a few steps; but as soon as she was able to see again, her head whipped round to find him.

It really was him – it was Christopher! She had not even thought him back in this area of the country, and here he was!

But who was the girl that he danced with?

Juliana’s heart was in her mouth as she glimpsed a head of glorious hair, which shone in the candlelight with a healthy gloss.

But then the girl turned as the steps dictated, and Juliana, deliberately hesitating half a step behind, saw her face.

She smiled to herself in giddy relief. The family resemblance was utterly unmistakeable, and besides, Christopher had shown her a collection of miniatures painted of his whole family as a gift for his first day in service.

Juliana admitted that the painted wood had none of the true vitality of the girl, but it was clear that he danced with his sister, Patience Hardwicke.

And hadn’t he mentioned something about the girl courting a Haverham boy, now that she thought of it…?

There had been something to that effect, back before his brother’s marriage, when they had first rekindled their acquaintance after that whole mess with the Lord Drevon.

“What brings a smile to your lips, my lady?” John Woode asked. “Is this a favored dance of yours?”

“It is,” Juliana replied.

She would not give him to believe that it was his presence which made her smile, however, and so she felt it necessary to add.

“I have seen an old friend over yonder, dancing with her brother.”

It was a little lie: she had never met Patience, not in person. But that could be arranged very easily. Should Christopher introduce them, her disguise would be complete.

Christopher was engrossed in his sister, a pretty girl who laughed when she spun in place and almost stumbled.

Juliana privately thought that she was very pretty indeed, and that it was no surprise the son of a house this large would be interested in her, no matter her own status.

He never looked up, though Juliana glanced their way at every opportunity. At long last, the dance came to an end, and John made her a bow.

“I shall leave you to your friends, Lady Juliana,” he said. “I can see that you are eager to go and meet with them.”

There was no reproach in his voice – rather, an edge of hurt and self-pity which struck Juliana to the core.

She felt guilt immediately, but there again, wasn’t it better for him to be discouraged?

“I believe Lady Mary is waiting for you over yonder,” Juliana said, after making the obligatory curtsey. At least that, she hoped, would salve his wounds a little.

As soon as she saw them favorably connected, Juliana made her way across the floor to where Christopher and Patience now stood, conversing quietly at the side of the room.

Lady Easterby apparently had not noticed her charge heading away and was more occupied with the drink she held in her hand than in surveying the room carefully.

It was all the same to her – since it gave her a chance to meet her beloved after all, and John would believe her safely with a female friend!

She was quite breathless by the time she had managed to make her way through the crowd, and caught up to them just as a red-headed young man joined their party to make a third.

“Lady Patience!” Juliana exclaimed quickly, seizing the opportunity before the girl could be whisked away by the man who had clearly come to ask for her next dance.

“It is such a long time since we met. Are you well? Won’t you introduce me to these gentlemen?”

Patience gave her a wild look, and Juliana could not blame the girl. She only hoped that she would be sharp enough to catch on.

“This… this is my brother, Lieutenant Christopher Hardwicke,” Patience fumbled.

She looked up at Christopher as she introduced him, and from his expression, she must have deduced all she needed to know.

“Christopher, this is a friend of mine, Lady Juliana…”

There was an awkward pause, in which Patience clearly fought to remember Juliana’s family name and failed.

“Reffern,” Juliana supplied, her smile unfaltering. She dipped into a curtsey. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant.”

“And this is Lord Edward Haverham,” Patience finished.

“Charmed, my lord, your family has a beautiful home,” Juliana said politely. “I ought to thank you, both for the ball itself and for the invitation. It is shaping up to be a fabulous night.”

“Thank you, Lady Juliana,” Edward Haverham dipped his red hair in polite courtesy. “Lady Patience, I had thought to ask for the next dance. But if it will leave your friend quite alone…”

“She will not be alone,” Christopher said gallantly. “I, too, will offer this dance. Does that suit you, Lady Juliana?”

“Quite so,” Juliana smiled, inclining her head slightly. “We shall reconvene later in the night for our regular gossip, Lady Patience!”

With a murmured assent, the girl was gone, pausing only to throw one more baffled look over her shoulder at Juliana’s conduct.

Christopher led her to a position where they might join the dancers lining up already, and gave her a raised eyebrow himself.

“What possible reason for this subterfuge?” he asked, quietly enough that only she could hear.

“I had to escape my chaperone somehow,” Juliana said, her lips quirking.

“I told cousin John that I had seen an old friend, and he was not concerned that I should go and speak with another young lady. Should anyone make inquiries, our introductions are now complete.”

“You are becoming adept at deceit,” Christopher said, meeting her eyes with an amused look. “Should I be concerned?”

“For yourself, never,” Juliana assured him, hearing the first strains of the music and taking the correct position.

The dance, the music, the other revelers about them; none of it made any impression. All of the rest faded away, leaving Juliana alone absorbed in Christopher entirely.

It was such exquisitely torturous pleasure, to dance like this. The movements had them swaying, slipping around one another, moving closer and further away, but never once touching.

At that moment, Juliana could say without a moment of hesitation that the one thing she wished for in all the world was that touch.

She could not take her eyes away from his, nor could he remove his gaze from hers. There were so many sentiments she wished to express, so many sighs of longing and joy and contentment that threatened to spill from her.

Still, she restrained herself. She was aware of their setting, even if it made not much mark on her.

There was what she wished, and then there was what was allowed. The two were sadly unconnected.

“Have you plans for the summer, Lady Juliana?” Christopher asked.

To any other, it would sound as though he were making the kind of polite conversation one expected at a ball. She knew he was asking when they might meet again.

“I am to stay with the Lady Ascot and her family for the time being,” she said.

“I am with my dear friend, Lady Mary Westenholme. In a few weeks, I suppose I shall return to my family’s estate. There are plenty of balls and picnics to look forward to as the summer takes hold.”

“I see,” Christopher nodded, digesting this information.

“And yourself?” Juliana asked.

“For my part, I shall spend most of the season improving my prospects,” Christopher said. He shot her an apologetic, crestfallen glance. “I had hoped to become a Captain by this time, but…”

Juliana nodded quickly, casting her eyes to the ground so that she could regain her composure.

It was a sad thing to hear; she had hoped he would have news of a definite plan, or some promised promotion, so that she could know when they might be joined in earnest.

There was something more behind his eyes, a story that he could not tell her. She could see it. It was so restrictive, trying to converse in the midst of the ball like this!

How could he tell her the full truth, when there were ears on every side that might report their conversation elsewhere?

“You are enjoying your time with Lord Ascot?” Christopher asked, nodding towards John at the other end of the room, where he danced with Mary.

“The Woodes have been completely hospitable,” Juliana said.

Once again, she wished that she could break free of these bonds of society – to reassure him that there was no hope of affection between them, and that she waited only for his word.

“I am on leave at present,” Christopher said, an almost abrupt non-sequitur. It was clear that he wished to convey something to her. “I am visiting with my family. My brother recently saw the birth of his first child.”

“Congratulations are in order,” Juliana smiled. She saw the opportunity to tease him a little and did not waste it. “That puts you another notch down in the inheritance, no?”

“The babe is a girl,” Christopher said, flashing her a grin.

“Then I stand corrected,” Juliana laughed.

Dancing with him, being this close, smiling and laughing together – it was all she had wanted for such a long time.

And yet, as always, it proved to be nowhere near enough.

The strains of the music were reaching their end, and Juliana realized with a sinking feeling that this meant their time together was almost over.

If they were to attract attention by dancing together all night, word would surely get back to her mother and step-father. She had to yield to politeness and spare time for the other young men of the ball.

Besides which, Mary no doubt needed rescuing from the tiresome John Woode, who might keep her all to himself if he was allowed; the man knew not the limits of when people were no longer interested in hearing him talk.

“Perhaps you might enjoy the fresh air of the gardens,” Christopher said desperately, glancing around as the dance came to an end and no doubt realizing the same thing.

“I think I will perhaps require a breath of air quite soon,” Juliana confirmed.

They could not go together – they would be alone out there, unchaperoned, a man and a woman of marrying age. But if they were chaperoned, they would still not be able to talk.

“I think I will go myself,” Christopher told her, giving her a significant look as he held her eyes.

She nodded mutely, and watched him make his way through the crowd towards the open terrace doors.

She took a breath, then slowly made her way in a similar direction.

Juliana deliberately took a round-about route, going first to the drinks table at the side of the room. She took a glass of refreshment, and then slowly circulated along with the movement on the edge of the dancefloor until she came to the open doors.

There she hesitated, turned as if simply watching the dancers. A glance found Mary and John, lined up to dance together once more. Lady Easterby, at the other side of the room, was conversing animatedly with a friend.

All to the good; Juliana turned and slipped outside, and within just a few moments she was hidden by rose hedges that had been planted to give the illusion of a maze.

Beyond the tall hedges, an inner courtyard was set around a fountain, with benches for the guests to sit and admire the leaping water. These were all occupied, and Juliana walked onwards along the path.

She moved in an unhurried fashion, as if she were simply enjoying the gardens, and passed through the hedges on the other side to enter a new area.

Here was all marble columns and statues, mostly of Greek goddesses and muses. Juliana recognized the symbolism of a few of them; she had completed her education, after all.

There were more benches, and sheltered walks beside flowering beds which displayed all the glory of spring.

Still, Juliana continued: she believed she had seen a flash of red up ahead, and followed with the same unhurried pace.

She found him at last, sitting in a shaded bower created by the woven branches of two hazel trees. They had grown intertwined, providing the perfect shelter for a white-painted bench which was all but invisible to those in other parts of the garden. A true lovers’ bench.

“Christopher!” Juliana exclaimed, rushing to sit beside him.

“Oh, Juliana,” Christopher beamed, taking her gloved hand. “I am so glad you were able to get away. And what fortune! I did not even think to find you here. I believed you still in Bath, or else gone home.”

“The Baroness insisted,” Juliana said with a shudder. “My family seem quite intent on my marrying her son. He is such a bore, Christopher. You would not believe it.”

“Now, Juliana,” he admonished, though he did it with a pleased smile. “I’m sure the man must have some redeeming features.”

“Absolutely none,” Juliana declared. “I won’t even invite him to our wedding.”

“It should be a kick in the teeth, anyway, if he thinks you are set to be betrothed,” Christopher remarked.

He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind Juliana’s ear.

She had arranged for it to artfully hang there, but she said nothing. The touch of his fingertips was worth ruining any hairstyle for.

“We should form a plan, Juliana,” he said. “There is something I must tell you. I have been betrayed.”

Juliana gasped at his dramatic words. “By whom?”

“Jasper, that scoundrel,” Christopher sighed. “So many people had told me that he was bad news, but I would not believe a word of it.

“Now I have had my comeuppance. Not only has he ruined my reputation by proxy, but he has taken what should have been my commission, too.”

Juliana covered her mouth with her hand. “You had a captaincy?”

“It was almost in my grasp,” Christopher said, then shook his head.

“But by means I am not proud of. I should never have allowed any of it to happen. And before I could make my move, Jasper swooped in and purchased the Captaincy for himself.”

“I thought he had no money to speak of?” Juliana asked.

Christopher only shook his head sadly. He did not wish to go into the details of the whole sordid tale – that much was clear.

“But this does not mean you will be a Lieutenant forever.”

“It may mean I will remain one for a good while,” Christopher admitted.

“There is no promise of another commission becoming available soon, and now that Jasper is my superior officer – well, I do not think there will be much chance of receiving a promotion for my hard work and good conduct.”

“Then you will not be able to attain rank…”

Juliana looked away for a moment, out over the flowers. Her mind was racing, thinking ahead.

If Christopher could not gain the Captaincy he had promised, he would be breaking his word. Not only that, but her mother had made it clear that his current rank was not high enough.

If he dared to propose to her, would she even be allowed to accept?

“Listen, Juliana, this is why we need a plan,” Christopher said, with a sharp look in his eyes.

“I need you to consider whether you would marry – without your family. Without their blessing, perhaps cut off from your birthright.”

Juliana looked at him, trying to imagine if she were ready for such a thing…

But she never got the chance to respond.

Chapter 24

“She will do no such thing.”

Christopher looked up at those unexpected words, to see the face he would least have liked to see at that moment: the Duke of Prighton, Juliana’s step-father.

Instinctively, Christopher pushed himself backward along the bench, away from her.

He did not wish for any suggestion of impropriety. It was bad enough that they had been caught talking privately. It would be worse if others were drawn to believe that something else had happened.

He could hardly believe his luck. Juliana had managed to slip out into the garden to meet him, and everything had been planned in his mind.

If she would just give him some indication that she would take his offer – value his love above her family’s money – then he would have knelt on the ground before her and risked it all.

He had a ring in his pocket, a cheap trinket that he would have promised to exchange for something more fitting later down the line. He had a speech prepared in his head – a lead-up to the question itself.

And he would have proposed marriage, even an elopement if it seemed necessary.

All was prepared. He could have spirited her out of the ball and to his own carriage, and from there several days’ ride to Scotland if they needed to.

But those plans crumbled to dust now, faced with the man who could stop it all by dragging her home.

“It is sheer luck that I found the time to come down and attend this ball,” the man sneered now.

“I assured your mother that it was unnecessary, but that I would do it just to ensure that a firm eye was being kept on you. We trusted the Baroness. How wrong we were.”

“We are just talking,” Juliana said reflexively, lowering her eyes to the ground.

“You think you can fool me, vixen?” The Duke gave a short, sharp laugh. “I see well what is going on here. You would do well to remember that we have forbidden you even from talking to this… officer.”

From the way he pronounced the word, it was clear to Christopher that the man looked down heavily upon his rank.

“Forgive me, Father,” Juliana said, giving him that title in the hope it would appease him somewhat. “It was an innocent talk, nothing more. I swear it.”

“Your word, then, means nothing,” the Duke said. “I heard everything. I have been following you since you arrived. I saw you dancing close together, I saw you sneak out here, and I heard your words.

“If they were innocent enough, you should have seen no harm in speaking them in front of others. Instead, I hear of this – this – inducement to abandon your family!”

Christopher lowered his own eyes. There was nothing he could say; he had been caught, and the man had heard with his own ears. What possible kind of protest could claim his innocence now?

“Today will be an end to this matter,” the Duke went on. “I mean it.

“Juliana, you will not see this man ever again. And if you do see him – if you do – I swear to you that you will be removed from our family. Not only that, but this so-called gentleman may be in danger of losing his life.”

Juliana’s head snapped up. “You cannot mean that, Father,” she said plaintively.

“I mean every word, and more,” the man promised. “A duel the likes of which has never been seen! Your sister’s husband – the General – he will have something to say about all of this.

“He will stand in my place if I call upon him, too. Have no doubt about it. You will see him bloodied and beaten if you see him at all!”

Christopher wanted to protest, to proclaim that nothing could possibly tear them apart. But he had no other plans than a career in the military – and to hear now that there was a General involved!

Such a man could crush him like an insect and end his prospects immediately. How would he support Juliana then? How would he have any hope of raising himself up to be worthy of her, if he were reduced to merely a worker in his family’s business?

“That is spiteful,” Juliana said, her voice catching.

Christopher looked over to see with horror that tears were making their way down her cheeks in fresh tracks. She was quite lovely still, and he wanted to reach over to wipe those tears from her face – but he did not dare make the matter worse.

“You see?” the Duke sneered. “He is not even man enough to lend you comfort when you need him.”

Christopher took affront at that. Enough, at last, to make him raise defiant eyes and protest.

“I know I am not permitted to offer such sentiments,” he said. “I would stay on your good side, Your Grace, as much as it is possible for me to do so.”

“You have never been on my good side, boy!”

“Nonetheless, I would not make the situation worse,” Christopher said, glancing at Juliana as he did so.

He hoped that she would see the raw need there, the way he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and hold her tightly.

“There is no situation – not for you,” the Duke snapped. “How could you ever have thought yourself suitable?

“Once, you might have been the son of an Earl, but always a second son – and now you are not even that. What kind of standing could you possibly think that you have that would make you a good match for her?”

Christopher opened his mouth, but no words would come. As little as he liked to admit it, the Duke was right.

He had always been a poor match for her. He had wanted to improve his status through the military – but with nothing to show for it yet, that was not something he could bring to the Duke’s attention.

“No answer,” the Duke scoffed. “No answer, Juliana! Your man cannot answer me! Does that not tell you enough?”

“He is worthy of me because of who he is,” Juliana said bravely, her voice thick with tears. “It has nothing to do with rank, and all to do with character.”

“Ah, yes, character,” the Duke said, rounding on Christopher once more.

“Shall we discuss that? For I have heard rumor enough of your character, Hardwicke. I have heard of your little gang, roving around the country in your red uniforms and seducing every woman you come across.

“There is yet another scandal, is there not? Your close personal friend, Rivers, has defiled and disgraced a noble daughter – and now he refuses to marry her!”

Christopher lifted his head. He could not say that he was shocked or surprised at Jasper’s decision to leave the poor girl without a husband. It was the fact that he was still being so closely linked to the man – after his own betrayal – that he found hard to bear.

“Rivers is no friend of mine,” he said shortly.

“That is not what the world says,” the Duke snapped back. “You are linked as closely as brothers. There are mentions of you throughout all of his tales of debauchery.

“I’m sure you have deflowered many a young maid alongside him – girls who ought to have married well. A trail of ruined reputations goes in your wake, and neither of you has a thought to spare for those left behind.”

It was untrue. All of it was untrue. But Christopher could not argue or fight against the fact that his good name was in tatters. That much had been made clear to him over and over again.

As far as society was concerned, it mattered little whether he really had done the things he was accused of. The rumor was enough.

Christopher felt it all crumbling around him. What was he to do?

All he could manage to stir was the inclination to put his tail between his legs and run, far away from this confrontation. Juliana still sat by his side, but she may as well have been a thousand miles away.

“You won’t even fight for her, will you?” the Duke said.

Christopher felt his cheeks redden. He wanted to fight, he did, but what could he say? There was nothing to respond – the Duke had him to rights.

“Christopher is a good man,” Juliana sobbed. Even her tone was starting to shift.

Christopher looked at her with alarm and realized that the Duke’s words were getting through even to her. She was looking at him differently, as if she wanted to believe her defense of him but no longer could.

Something inside of him seemed to be breaking, and melting away. How could he allow himself to be lowered into such a position that she looked at him that way?

“And then there is the matter of your family,” the Duke went on. “Parents gone. Your little brother is a weakling, they say, and so far behind the others in his class, he may never catch up.

“Defective genes, coupled with some kind of punishment from God – what else could explain it? Then to top it all off, your brother goes and marries a governess. A governess! The wife of an Earl! No wonder you have a skewed perception of what your place really is!”

Something inside Christopher stirred. There was a lion in his heart, a lion that would fiercely protect his family against any and all comers. And as he felt it stir, felt it come to life in defense of his loved ones, something else awoke as well.

He was not a bad person. He had been a rogue, yes, but a harmless one. He had flirted and gallivanted about the country, even taken advantage of the hospitality of his friends, but never of a woman.

He was not the man that he was accused of being.

And if he did not rise up and defend himself now, then he would never be worthy of Juliana’s affections.

“You have me wrong, sir,” Christopher said, finally finding his voice. He rose to his feet, slowly, the action not a threat but a decisive moment.

“What, are you ready to flee?” the Duke laughed harshly, with no humor in it.

Christopher lifted his head and faced him, looking him in the eye, man to man. There was going to be no mistake. He would be heard, and he would accept nothing else.

“I am a good man,” he said, carefully enunciating his words, keeping them calm despite the growing righteous fury that he felt.

“I am an honorable man. I treat women with respect – and if I have courted others in the past, there was nothing more to it. All that ceased when I knew that Juliana, who herself was betrothed last year, still held a flame for me.”

The Duke opened his mouth as if to retort, but Christopher lifted his hand and plowed on firmly.

“I am not going to back down, nor run from you,” he said. “I know I have had my shortcomings in the past, but they do not approach anywhere near what you accuse me of.

“I intend to spend the rest of my life proving, through my good conduct as a soldier and gentlemanly behavior, that I am not who you say I am.

“My acquaintance with Rivers was a mistake that has blighted me, but it is over. I do not associate with men of such low character to bring ruin of that kind. I have sisters. I would not encourage any behavior that might endanger a woman.”

Beside him, Christopher saw Juliana moving towards him from the corner of his eye. He saw how she warmed to him, came back to his side, and he knew he was getting somewhere.

“I know I have not been worthy of Lady Juliana,” he said, making sure to include her title so that he could not be accused of undeserved familiarity.

“I have been working tirelessly to raise myself up and make that the case. I have been a rowdy boy, an ungracious one. That has all ended.

“I will not be found in my cups; I will not be seen to court another woman; I will not stray from my duties and my place. I intend to be such a Lieutenant as the world has ever seen – but only until I can be such a Captain.”

The Duke remained unimpressed, though he had stopped trying to interrupt. “And you think that will make you worthy of her hand?” he said.

“I know it will,” Christopher replied fiercely. “And even if it should not, I will not be broken. I will strive on, and on. If Captain is not enough, if my reputation and name are not reformed, I will not be content until I am a Major.”

The Duke nodded, and for the barest moment, Christopher even allowed himself to believe that he had won the man over.

“Do as you will,” he said. “By the time a man like you manages to bribe his way to becoming a Major, Juliana will be long wed with children running around her ankles. If you ever even make it.”

Christopher set his jaw. “And if that is the case,” he said, drawing a deep breath from his lungs and sending out all his most ardent feelings with it.

“I shall be the finest Major in the land, for I will not be distracted by wife nor children. And I will wait. And if one day Juliana should find herself a widow, then I will make my suit again – and if she does not, I will die a bachelor, borne still by her love.”

The Duke grunted. It may have been a sign of his approval; an approval that he could not bear to state out loud. It may not. But Christopher chose to believe, for his own sanity, that his words had had some impact.

When he glanced at Juliana, he wished that he had not: for shining in her eyes there was such love that it was as much as he could do to restrain himself from kissing her right then and there.

“Come, Juliana,” the Duke said abruptly, grasping her arm and pulling her to her feet. “You have a carriage waiting for you.”

Then he marched away, dragging Juliana along with him.

She looked back at Christopher once, her tear-stained face a mask of misery, and then the privacy afforded to them by the features of the garden swallowed her from his sight.

Chapter 25

It was a miserable journey.

The Duke had brought his own carriage, and so there was no reason to wait for the others. It seemed they were satisfied enough for Mary to remain under Lady Easterby’s supervision, even though that woman had been the one to allow Juliana to slip away unseen.

It was just like them, Juliana thought, to be tyrannical with her and lackadaisical with Mary.

The carriage wound its way back across the countryside until they arrived back at what Juliana was dismayed to see as the Woode estate.

She had half-hoped that they might return home, at least, so that she would not have to put up with these overtures any longer.

“Juliana,” the Duke of Prighton said, turning towards her as they began the long drive down the route to the home. “You will listen to me now.”

His voice was steel, and bade her to look up and pay attention. When she did, there was a fierce and vindictive flame burning in his eyes that made her fear to turn away.

“This playing is over now. If you disobey us, you will find that your life is not what you have dreamt of. Do not imagine for a second that your failure to marry John Woode will make us consider Christopher Hardwicke in a different light.”

Juliana noted his disdainful avoidance of titles with both of them, but made no comment. She was afraid to say anything. She was not under the impression that this was a conversation.

“You will do as you are told,” the Duke said firmly. He reached out and grasped her wrists, holding them in front of her so that she had to lean forward towards him.

“John Woode will court you, and you will let him. In fact, you will encourage him. When he proposes to you, you will accept, and pray to God that when your mother and I are gone from the Earth your husband will be taken too, so that you might, at last, have your soldier boy. Until that time, becoming Lady John Woode is the only goal that you will pursue.”

Juliana nodded quietly. She could feel how much trouble she was in; how far over the line she had crossed. His vice-like grip on her wrists was painful, and she did not want to push him any further.

He released her as the carriage pulled up, leaving her to rub at the red and white marks left behind where he had gripped her skin so tightly.

That was that; she had been told, and warned. If she disobeyed them now, she knew, it was serious. There was no escape from this.

Shaken, Juliana took her time in disembarking, and made her way up to her room as quickly as she could. Alone there, she could resume crying, and wait in the light of a single candle for Mary to return.

***

The days passed in even worse torment than they had previously. Juliana’s step-father remained a guest in the house, and watched her every move with a hawk-like intensity.

There was no hope of getting any sort of message out to Christopher, and no possible way she could refuse the advances of John Woode with his presence beside her.

“Oh, Mary,” Juliana groaned, in a brief moment of respite as the two of them prepared for sleep. “I am never getting out of here. I will be John Woode’s wife before I ever breathe the air of home.”

“It is not exactly a terrible dungeon that we are locked in,” Mary said impatiently, casting a gesture around the room. “This is one of the finest homes I have ever heard of, let alone seen. You could do much worse.”

“It is not the home I am interested in,” Juliana said bitterly. Her friend knew as much! Why was she being so unsupportive?

“The husband, too, might be one that others envy,” Mary said.

“I can’t imagine who, or why,” Juliana scoffed. “I’ve never met such a boring man in all of my life.”

“A boring man is at least a stable one,” Mary snapped. It seemed she was really losing her temper.

“At least he is not a cheat, or a swindler, or a louse. Interesting men tend to be the ones we should stay away from. Or has the ongoing tale of Jasper Rivers not proven that?”

Juliana quirked an eyebrow. Was that what this was about? “Mary,” she said, with a wondering tone. “Can it be that you were taken with Jasper Rivers?”

It was Mary’s turn to scoff. “Such a man is of no interest to me,” she declared.

But Juliana filed it away, all the same. Something was clearly upsetting her friend about the whole topic.

Which meant that complaining about her lot with John Woode was, largely, off the table.

Juliana felt alone and lost. Without even the opportunity to have her friend take her side in the privacy of their bedroom, she had no outlet for her misery.

Though she still forgot from time to time, of course, and made some comment that Mary would entirely ignore – or pointedly yawn at.

Juliana was taken aback by Mary’s behavior, though she had to admit that the saga had gone on long enough. Poor Mary had listened to it all, and all the while feeling secretly as though she would never be married herself, as she had lately confessed.

Though her first instinct was to rebuke her friend, Juliana let it pass. If they were to quarrel, she would truly be alone, without an ally in any matter. That could not come to pass.

So it went that she walked with John Woode in the extensive grounds of the house, and listened to him drone on about the different kinds of trees.

She accompanied him on visits of mercy to the local parishioners who lived in the small village near the estate, handing out bread and little treats for the children, and heard his devout plans for the parsonage he would claim.

She sat with him at dinner and watched him chew bland foods and proclaim them excellent.

In short, she did everything that was required of her in outward attitude; though she could not force her insides to change. Nor would she have, if she could.

Her only thought, one that consumed every waking moment and entered even into her dreams, was how she was going to escape.

For if John Woode were to propose to her before she was able to come to some sort of plan, she would never be able to escape at all.

Chapter 26

It was with a heavy heart that Christopher returned to his barracks, his visit to his family done.

Edmund had been nothing but sympathetic, if not exactly supportive. There had been a look in his eyes which Christopher understood to mean that Edmund thought his bridges burnt, and no recourse now for reclaiming his bride.

It was tiring enough to live under this burden, this weight of need to become the man he had to be. Explaining it and arguing the point with his brother was not something that Christopher wished to add to his workload.

So he returned, feeling as though he had not an ally in the world who would support him in his mission – and knowing that he had to complete it all the same, if his heart was ever going to be whole again.

He returned his trunk to its accustomed place, and saw with some relief that the extra bunk in his room had not yet been appropriated by another man.

He was having a hard time enough with his personal heartbreak, and sharing his space with someone else would not help to lighten that load.

The one thing he did discover waiting for him, however, was a bundle of letters stacked neatly on top of his cot. They must have been collected for him and brought there each time they arrived, waiting for him to return.

It was the evening already, and Christopher had no hunger for supper. He sat down instead by the light of a candle, and began to read through his correspondence.

One was a letter from Edmund, telling him that the new baby had arrived; he must have sent it before Christopher managed to make it to the house. This one he kept all the same, as it was a touching reminder of a special moment for his family.

Another was from a man he had trained with, a soldier who had remained on duty at their old barracks when Jasper and Christopher had moved. He was seeking a meeting to relive old times, it seemed, on the barely concealed pretext of borrowing money.

Christopher tossed this one aside, thinking to burn it later.

The next was addressed in a hand that he did not recognize. He entered the envelope and brought it out, and was surprised beyond measure by what he read.

To my handsome Lieutenant,

It is your Kitty here! I do hope that you have not forgotten me already now that you are gone from Bath and back in the barracks. They tell me that soldiers can be fickle, heads turned easily. I do hope they are wrong!

I have thought of little else but you since our last meeting. I see the two of us together – Kit and Kitty, what a picture! My heart burns for the day when we can meet again.

I hope it will be soon. I am to attend a gathering not far from where you are stationed. There will be much merry dancing and I do so wish that you will be there.

My heart is waiting to see yours once more! Do tell me you will be there – oh, please do!

I am resolved that not another man will ever be the subject of my affections, so if you are unable to meet me then, I will write again to organize another meeting. I have enclosed details of the event here.

Yours with much longing,

Miss Kitty White

Christopher fought back a groan as he read the letter again, slower this time, trying to make sure that he did not miss anything. What a fine mess this was turning out to be!

Here he was, trying to do the right thing and resolving to live his life in a way that would bring only honor, and now this girl was apparently infatuated with him. She could not possibly be good news for him – not possibly!

What would Juliana think if she were to catch wind of all of this?

Christopher passed back and forth in his quarters, glad of the extra space since there was no one to occupy the other half of the room.

He held the letter firmly grasped in his hand, and from time to time he would look down to skim a passage again or make sure of a certain turn of phrasing.

What should he do about all of it? That was the question, the big thing that he had to answer now. If he could figure out a course of action which put everything right with the least possible risk, everything might turn out just fine.

After all, he couldn’t leave things as they were. Kitty seemed determined to see him again, and if he refused, she might kick up some sort of fuss.

As far as Christopher could see it, there was only one option open to him.

He would go to this gathering, see Kitty, and tell her there in person that there was no future for them. He would have to be as gentle as possible, but she needed to know. She needed to move on to ideas on another man.

Once done, he would simply leave – return to the barracks. He wouldn’t even need to take a period of leave. It would be that quick and simple.

Well, quick, at least.

Christopher readied himself several nights later, dressing as usual in the fine red uniform that he reserved for social outings in order to ensure it did not show the wear of age.

He did not take as much care as he might have done if he was seeing Juliana; that was natural. But he did know that he would be seen, and that he needed to appear put-together and steady. If he did not, Kitty might have course not to believe his declarations.

It would be so easy for her to decide that he was harried or over-tired, and that he did not mean what he said but was being forced to say it.

With all of these careful thoughts swirling inside his head, Christopher hailed a coach from outside the barracks and boarded, giving the driver his instructions.

He fancied that he would even have the man wait; after all, he did not intend to be inside for longer than it took to explain to her why they could not be together.

After that, he had no reason to be at this place. There was no need for him to meet another, and he had no intention of drinking or falling about in revelry.

Those days were behind him, as he had vowed.

Besides, it would probably be painful for Kitty to look upon him after her dreams had been shattered. Perhaps she would even cry. He should make the best of it if he left right away, leaving her to the comfort of her friends and not lingering to remind her of her upset.

For once in his life, he was going to do the right thing; and it was unfortunate that this right thing would be painful for her. But at the very least, it was a step in the right direction – a direction he had sworn to the Duke of Prighton that he would take.

Christopher got down from his coach, watching others along the road do the same as they headed into the bustling local village hall. He squared his shoulders, bade the man to wait, and marched forward.

He had a mission to complete, and though it would not be a pleasant one, he was resolved beyond measure to see it done.

Chapter 27

“Walk with me, Juliana,” the Baroness commanded imperiously.

Juliana rose from her position beside Mary, on an easy sofa in the sitting room. She set her embroidery down on a side table – she had not been working with much focus, but merely as a pretext to sit and talk with Mary – and gave a slow incline of her head.

“Yes, my lady,” she said, hurrying after the stern figure who did not spare much time to wait for her.

Out in the hall was a pair of maids, who dressed both women in long capes, gloves, and hats against the chill breeze that was blowing outside.

Juliana wondered privately whether the Baroness walked in all weathers: rain, sleet, snow, and hail. Fortunately, the spring had been a mostly dry one thus far, and Juliana had not had cause to find out. There was a twist in the air this morning, however, and it seemed sure that rain would follow.

Juliana cast her eyes around for John Woode, wondering when he would come out to join them. But the Baroness, in her inimitable way, was already striding headlong for the doors, and the man was nowhere to be seen.

“Lady Ascot,” Juliana called out, almost breathless as she rushed to catch up. “Had we not better wait for cousin John? He is not here yet.”

The Baroness cast a haughty look over her shoulder. The woman may have been far advanced in years, but she still knew how to give a look that would wither any but the hardiest of souls.

“My son does not join us today, Juliana,” she said.

Her mouth was set in a straight line which revealed neither joy nor sadness in this fact, and Juliana could not discern a single reason as to why.

She wrestled with the question inside of herself. Was it really wise to ask why he did not join them? After all, she did not want the woman to turn around and fetch her son to come with them, thinking that Juliana was missing him.

Then on the other hand, at least her step-father might witness this and be pleased, and think that she was doing her duty.

And there was another factor: the idea of walking alone with the Baroness verged on the frightening, and soon Juliana thought it was something that she did not wish to bear.

“Baroness,” she began again, timidly, falling in alongside her now. “Why is cousin John not walking with us today? I ask only because I have become accustomed to his presence.”

“Just because a thing has always been so, does not mean it always will be,” the Baroness said cryptically.

Or perhaps not so cryptic, Juliana thought, trying to fathom some sort of clue from the woman’s face.

Perhaps she was thinking about the fact that as soon as John married, he would be away, seeking his new position. And even if he did not marry soon, he would have to go, for the parish – once found – would not wait.

“Watch the ground where you are walking, girl,” the Baroness tutted. “You have not the good sense to save yourself from falling on your face.”

“Apologies, my lady,” Juliana said hastily, wrenching her eyes back to the front.

The path they walked was mostly a free one, though it was not paved or laid out in gravel. It was simply worn into the grounds by the frequent and habitual pattern that the Baroness walked, and there were many routes laid out in this fashion: some closer to the house, others further away, stretching out amongst the vast grounds of the estate.

Some wove through groves of trees, where twisted roots and fallen twigs across the path provided means of tripping.

Others traversed along the banks of a small lake, where the ground could be slippery underfoot if the water had risen close to the banks or a party had hefted a boat back out of the water after using it.

Others still wended their way across great expanses of grass, where the horses would also ride on occasion, and then it became necessary to keep one’s eye open for traces of manure: the Baroness apparently ordered these left where they stood and not cleared by her servants, since they gave bountiful growth to the grounds that were otherwise churned by hooves.

“I have been thinking about your future, Juliana,” the Baroness announced.

“My future?” Juliana repeated with some surprise, though keeping her voice as mild as she could. The Baroness did not like it when it sounded as though people were questioning her.

“Yes, girl, clean your ears,” the Baroness snapped. “Or do you intend to repeat everything I say like some parrot?”

“Sorry,” Juliana said quickly, then had to admit her ignorance. “What is a parrot, my lady?”

“An exotic bird that the sailors fetch back from time to time,” the Baroness sniffed.

“My sister kept one as a pet. Terrible creature. It would leave its droppings all about her sitting room. It was loud and obnoxious to boot. But parrots are able to learn and mimic our voices.”

“They can speak?” Juliana asked with wonder. “I should like to see such a bird.”

“You shouldn’t,” the Baroness said. “They smell. But this is beside the point, Juliana, and you are distracting me from what I wish to speak about. You are a very flighty girl.”

“Sorry, my lady,” Juliana said, ducking her head and keeping her eyes on the path as she was told.

“I have been thinking about your future,” the Baroness repeated, getting them back to where she had started. “And what kind of plans you think you may have.”

“I have no real plans, my lady,” Juliana hedged.

She had a feeling that she would be chided not for having plans, but also chided if those plans were the wrong ones. Seeing no clear way ahead, she settled for a middle path.

“What are real plans? Are they in opposition to false plans?” the Baroness questioned, her voice sharp in the cool morning air.

“Why would anyone make false plans? Your head is in the clouds as ever. I wonder how you have made it this far in life without drifting off into the sky without how light and empty your head must be.”

Juliana swallowed, and said nothing. There was normally nothing good to come from arguing with the Baroness, particularly when her comments were aimed at one personally.

“What you should have, as a girl of your age, are plans,” the Baroness continued. “Real plans, to use your turn of phrase. You must intend to marry, of course. But the question is what you think you will do after you are married.”

Juliana thought the question over, struggling to decipher what the correct answer might be.

Of course, she couldn’t take too long about it. The Baroness was not patient, and might snap at her for failing to make up her mind.

“I suppose I shall have children,” she ventured.

“Of course you will have children,” the Baroness snapped impatiently. “What use is there of being a wife if you do not intend to bear children?

“My point is where you believe you will be situated. What station in life you will hold. How big your home, and how many servants. How much of the household work you will have to do for yourself. Have these questions not passed through your mind?”

Juliana hesitated again. It was true that in some sense she had considered those problems. In other ways, she had not truly thought it through at all.

With Christopher, what would those answers be? Surely she would not have too large of a home, since they would live only on the Earl’s generosity and some small parcel of her own.

They might have only a small number of servants – perhaps just one or two. A military career did not pay over well, unless Christopher could find himself at a higher rank soon.

And where would they live? Doubtless, close to wherever he was stationed. If he went off to war, what then? Would she follow him, or stay behind?

Would she see him often during the times when he served? Or would there be stretches of months at a time wherein he was confined to the barracks, and she raised their children alone?

The thoughts were troubling; more than she would have liked to admit.

In truth, she had no idea of how to complete the most basic household tasks. How did one light a fire, or bake a pie? She had no idea. There had always been someone to do it for her.

And to spend her time alone – that was not part of her vision at all. When she had thought of the future, all she had imagined was herself in Christopher’s arms, or holding balls together as man and wife, or else attending them. She had not considered the day to day realities.

“I can see you are deep in thought,” the Baroness said, if not approvingly then at least not with any hint of rebuke. “You will do well to think deeply on it, and see where your desires show you.”

Juliana thought on it in silence, doing as she had been told but also, she found now, as she needed to.

She had grown up in a state of luxury, with servants to tend her needs and provide for her whims. She had known the freedom of a large estate, even if it was not a patch on the grounds which she now walked. She had ridden her own horses and dressed in new finery each season.

That, perhaps, would all come to an end if she chose to be with Christopher. Even more decidedly so, if the Duke and Duchess decided that she had been disobedient enough to warrant cutting off her dowry and any further allowances.

But even as she knew all of this, Juliana could see that it was nothing – none of it.

To be with Christopher, that was the prize she valued above all else. To be with him, the rest could go hang!

“Well? Have you come to a conclusion?” the Baroness barked.

“I do not know what status I shall have,” Juliana answered honestly. “I do not know where I shall live, or in what level of comfort. I think it will be different from what I am accustomed to, in any case.

“Everything about my life will change, because I will be in a new household with a new family of my own. But I think the most important thing is that I am determined to be happy.”

The Baroness gave her a long look, pausing on the pathway so that Juliana was bound to do the same. For a while, not a word passed between the two women, but Juliana held her ground and met the Baroness’ eyes.

She did not care that she might be dismissed as a silly child, a girl with notions that belied reality. She had heard these sentiments and more from her mother, from the Baroness when she gave her lectures addressed to no one in particular, and in the opinions of those who judged others before her.

But she could not give up on the notion of true love, and happiness. She could not deny the feelings within her breast.

At length, the Baroness gave a single, slow nod, and they commenced walking again, in a silence which had subtly changed and shifted from the one they shared previously.

“There is more I shall say to you,” the Baroness said. “I do not expect that you will answer me with any kind of decision at the present moment.

“What we speak of is theory only, since you have not received a proposal of late and thus have no chance yet to accept or deny one.”

Juliana nodded, saying nothing. She could see the direction in which the Baroness was going.

The advice that followed was to be about John Woode, and the fact that he would indeed propose soon. It was intended to steer her course, without in fact admitting that the proposal had already been arranged.

“Many young women,” the Baroness continued, “have their heads turned by some dashing young gentleman or other. Oft times it is a man who serves: an officer, or a navy man, or some older General who has dedicated the better years of his life to his country but now wishes to settle.

“These young women fare variously. When they choose a man of means, such as the General in our example, they are provided for well. He may not be a man of their social standing, but in service, he has improved himself. He has a good income.

“Of course, there is the threat that he should lose his life in that service, and this is a risk the woman takes.

“Other young women find it differently. They are attached to a man of no means, or else of base ones. Some even fall for scandalous matches: a stable boy or blacksmith in some country village who is far beneath them.

“They spend their lives in squalor, surrounded by children who are always hungry, washing their own clothes and planting their own turnips.

“There are women who marry for their heads being turned, yes. But they are few in the grand scheme of things, and they fare differently. Most find love wanes under the weight of household chores.”

The Baroness paused here and looked at Juliana.

She felt she had to respond in some kind, but she had no idea of what to say.

“Yes, Baroness,” she murmured only, hoping this confirmation that she was listening would serve as enough.

The Baroness seemed satisfied and continued. “There is no love between you and my son. I know this,” she said. “I may be old, but I am not by any means blind. Even if I were, I am not deaf. He bores you.”

“Cousin John is - ” Juliana struggled, trying to find a way to politely pretend that it was not the case.

“I am not stupid either,” the Baroness cut across her sharply. “This is a fact. It does not mean a thing. That my son bores you has very little bearing on anything. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, my lady,” Juliana said meekly, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“Love is a thing that we are told to long for by tales of old,” the Baroness continued, with that manner of hers which signified she was launching into another long lecture.

“It is a thing which has little grounding in reality. I did not love the Baron; he was a man twenty years my senior when we married, and we had little in common. I was but a girl, and he a man who had lived a life.

“He had even married before me, though that unfortunate lady passed away on her childbed before she could give him a surviving heir.

“We spent not much of our days together; he would ride out and hunt with his men, I would sit in and sew with my ladies.

“This was how it was with us. But look what he has given me.”

The Baroness spread her arms wide, indicating the grounds and the house which they had now turned the corner back towards.

“I am mistress of my own domain. My husband passed away, as men who are twenty years our senior are wont to do. I have a child who has been a source of joy to me.

“I have a grand estate, perhaps one of the grandest in England, and it is all mine. I have a veritable army of servants who do my bidding, and who ensure that my needs are always met.

“I wear the finest silks and laces from Paris and Manchester. I am invited to so many balls and visitations I need not see my own home for months at a time if I do not wish to.

“I have never known hunger, never had to do my own housework, never been shamed by my station.

“Ladies and noblemen across our fair country must bow and scrape to me. I have personally met with the King. I have sat at his table.

“I have lived to a ripe old age, and though I hear the whispers in corners wishing that I were to drop down soon, I continue to refuse to do so. I eat my fill of good foods. I have few health complaints.

“All of this serves to illustrate one thing, Juliana, which I hope you will hear clearly. I did not love my husband, the Baron. We were brought together to join two family names.

“Yet here I am, in the twilight of a life well-lived, and I would not have married any other – because I have had a stable life, and a happy one, and never wanted for something so banal as money.”

The Baroness seemed to be finished with her diatribe. She walked on towards the house now without another word to add, carrying an air of satisfaction.

Much had been said, and much had been meant. Juliana heard these words clearly, as the Baroness wished.

But privately, as they drew ever nearer to the house, Juliana was sure of one truth.

This was that the Baroness had never loved as she had loved: had never longed for a man as she longed for Christopher.

For if she had, she would have known that no amount of servants, of balls, of new dresses, could match the feeling of being by his side.

Chapter 28

Christopher faltered on his way towards the entrance to the hall.

He had been full of total determination, but even as he approached, he had seen something that made his heart leap out of his chest and his steps pause.

Jasper Rivers – Captain Jasper Rivers, he reminded himself – stepping out of a coach a short while down the road from his own, and striding towards the hall in his best dress uniform.

Christopher almost wanted to turn away; but what could he do? He had come here with a mission, a mission that should not be delayed. That, surely, had to take priority over any feelings of discomfort.

Unfortunately, his pause had held him long enough in place that Jasper was rapidly approaching, and unless he broke into a run, he was not going to be able to avoid their meeting.

Christopher straightened his back instead, and made as if he had been waiting for Jasper like the old friends that they were.

“Christopher,” Jasper said, with an air of smugness. “I see you are here to enjoy the evening as well.”

“I did not know you were coming,” Christopher bit out.

“Nor I,” Jasper said.

There was a merry twinkle in his eye, one that Christopher did not like at all.

“I had no notion this event was even taking place until I was alerted earlier this afternoon. I heard you were to be in attendance and I simply had to come along myself.”

“And why should that be?” Christopher asked flatly. He was not going to pander to Jasper and pretend that they were still friends.

“Now, is that any tone or manner with which to address your superior?” Jasper asked. His tone was jovial enough, but there was venom behind the words.

“When I see my superior, I shall be sure to mark how I address him,” Christopher shot back before he could stop himself.

He knew that such rudeness could get him into trouble, and for a moment he had been riled enough not to care. That played right into Jasper’s hands, however, and went against the vow he had made; he rebuked himself instantly.

“Such insubordination towards your Captain will not be tolerated,” Jasper said. He reached out a casual hand and brushed it over Christopher’s badges of office, as if knocking a piece of lint away.

“Mind that you keep your impudent tongue a little closer in your head if you wish to avoid disciplinary action.”

Christopher swallowed, and held his tongue entirely. He did not trust himself at that moment to say anything which would not get him into further trouble.

“Well,” Jasper said cheerfully as if they were discussing the weather and nothing more. “I will see you in there, Lieutenant Hardwicke. I hear there is to be much dancing.”

Jasper melted away into the crowd at the entrance, and Christopher gave himself several moments to fight for his composure.

Feeling a little cooler in the head at last, Christopher renewed his steps and entered the hall, being met immediately with music, the sound of chattering voices, and laughter all around.

It was clearly a gay affair. Young people were clustered around the whole space, talking animatedly and showing off their best gowns and suits.

The women were decked out in pale pastel colors, looking like flowerbeds ready for the spring. Many of them wore dresses that were perhaps a slightly older style; the fabric, dyed to match this season’s colors, kept them fashionable enough.

The red of soldiers’ uniforms dotted the crowd, and Christopher saw many privates – though few officers like himself and Jasper. Jasper, he realized, was likely the highest-ranked man in the place.

And that went for social standing in its entirety; he recognized no one of good breeding, none of the familiar faces that were doing the rounds of the society balls.

None of the attendants were dressed in a style that might set them out as belonging to a higher class. He felt certain in the belief that these revelers were mostly ‘Miss’ and ‘Mr.’, rather than ‘Lord’ and ‘Lady’.

Across the room, he spotted hair gleaming in the light of the candles that hung above them, and when she turned, he saw that he had been right in his recognition.

Kitty White was there, talking with a young female friend who looked uncomfortably thin.

He walked across the room to them, cutting a swathe between the groups of conversationalists, his path easy since the dancing had not yet begun.

It was only just before he reached her that Jasper slid to his side, but before Christopher could protest, she turned around and saw them.

“Lieutenant!” she screeched, her voice so grating that Christopher wondered how he had ever managed to withstand a conversation with this creature. “You came to see me!”

“Yes, Miss Kitty,” Christopher said, being absolutely sure to use her title correctly.

She might not have been of any social importance, but he had no intention of allowing her to believe that things were on an informal standing between them.

“And Lieutenant Rivers, too,” she cooed, fluttering a smile in the direction of the other man.

“Christopher has not kept you up to date, I see,” Jasper said, favoring her with an indulgent smile. “It is Captain Rivers, now.”

Kitty’s eyes widened to a degree that was almost comical.

“Is that so?” she asked, looking with wonder at the new insignia on his jacket.

“A recent development,” Jasper informed her. “I was commended by the Major; another of our colleagues had to resign his position and so I was a clear shoe-in for the commission.”

“How exciting!” Kitty exclaimed.

Christopher stood looking between the two of them. He was feeling a little bemused. It was as though he was being pushed out of the conversation entirely.

“Kitty,” he began, feeling the need to get the weight off his chest as soon as possible. “I really must -”

“And are you still stationed in the same barracks?” Kitty interrupted, looking up at Jasper adoringly. “I shouldn’t wish to miss you if you are suddenly moved to another part of the country!”

“I am staying put,” Jasper assured her. “If you are to remain locally, I am certain we will have many opportunities for our paths to cross.”

Christopher sighed to himself. This was not going as planned at all.

The first quiet sounds from the far side of the room indicated that the musicians were picking up their instruments and making sure that they were in tune, and the dancing was soon to begin.

“May I have this first dance?” Jasper smoothly enquired.

“Of course!” Kitty beamed, not even looking at Christopher. “Lead on, Captain.”

They walked out to join the other couples in the center of the room who were preparing to dance, leaving Christopher watching them go with his mouth open.

He soon closed his jaw. It was clear to him that Kitty had exchanged her favors for the man with the higher commission, and good luck to the both of them. She would be finely disappointed; he, perhaps, had met his match in deception.

He lingered to watch them a while longer, how Kitty threw her head back to laugh at every witty thing to pass Jasper’s lips (and a few unwitty things besides, no doubt).

It was strange, as if he were looking into some window on an alternate future. There they were, his former best friend and his former interest.

Or perhaps that had all only been a distraction from Juliana; he could not recall ever having had any real feelings for her at all.

Christopher was satisfied, at least by some margin. There they were – two chapters of his life that he had now resolved to close forever, and without a moment of remorse.

It was clear as day that neither had ever truly had any real interest in him. Rather, they were both attracted to the same thing: his status, and what it could afford to them if they stood by his side.

Christopher looked around the room once more with even fresher eyes, and saw that he was without a doubt the only real lord out of the lot of them. That determined, he saw that this was no place for him.

He walked around the side of the dancers as rapidly as he could, weaving between those who stood to watch or to converse, and slipped out by the same way he had gone in.

He cursed when he saw that his coach had deserted him, after all; but no matter.

There were plenty more still arriving, the horses looking thin and the upholstery peeling; but it had been a night of slumming it. One more coach would not make too much of a difference to all that.

Chapter 29

They were seated in the sitting room that morning, each buried in their own pursuits. The Duke of Prighton read the newspaper with a cup of tea, pursing his lips at almost everything that he read, though most of it had no bearing on him.

The Baroness sat with her keen old eyes angled downwards through a pair of eyeglasses, balancing on the tip of her nose as she embroidered a delicate rose pattern onto a length of fabric.

It was rather an old-fashioned pattern, but since Juliana was not going to have to wear it, she did not feel the need to say so.

Juliana sat by the window at her own work, putting some fine detailing onto a ribbon that she intended to tie around her bonnet. She had devised her own pattern of birds in flight, which she thought was rather fetching when repeated in this way.

John and Mary were nowhere to be seen, each having gone out for a walk independently that morning. Since it was such a large estate, there was no need to panic about a chaperone; and besides, the grounds were quite private.

Though, as it happened, some of their party would perhaps have been more vigilant if they had known what the two of them were truly up to.

For, that morning, John Woode and Mary Westerholme walked into the sitting room together after their walk – at the same time – and both were strangely flushed, as if with excitement.

“Mother,” John said smartly. “Your Grace; Lady Juliana. I have an announcement to make. Or, I might say, we have an announcement to make.”

Every eye in the room snapped towards them – including that of the maid who had been delivering a fresh pot of tea to the Baroness.

Mary stepped forward then to be by his side, and John reached out and took her hand, folding it into the crook of his elbow.

Juliana watched with a kind of incredulity, not quite yet caught up to the events that had transpired: she was wondering when they had become so familiar.

“John,” the Baroness began warningly, but she was ignored.

“I am happy to inform you all that this morning, not fifteen minutes ago, I have asked Lady Mary to be my wife. Moreover, she has accepted my proposal. We are now betrothed.”

The reactions in the room were as disparate as they were intense. The Baroness dropped her teacup, leaving it to shatter on the floor into tiny porcelain shards while the tea slopped over the carpet.

Juliana, turning to look, saw that her face had transformed into a mask of horror, made all the more pronounced by her grey hair and the thick lines in her skin.

The Duke had half-started to rise from his chair, and then stopped; he seemed frozen in the midst of the action, unsure as to whether he should finish standing or sit back down again.

His face had gone a curious shade of red that almost verged on the purple, and a vein near his temple appeared to be almost bulging out of place.

The maid, who was quite young and evidently had not been with the family a long time, stifled a surprised giggle; then she dropped to her knees hastily and began to gather up the broken cup.

Juliana turned back in her chair to look at them again. For her part, she was having difficulty in parsing how it was that she felt.

There was a curious mixture in her: a joy a being saved from her fate of having to marry John herself, but a worry and fear that Mary was doing a noble thing for her sake only; a revulsion that anyone should wish to marry John out of their own free will; a sudden spike of grief that she would lose her best friend; a joy that said best friend would now, in fact, be loosely related to her.

These things and more perhaps passed over her features before she was aware of it.

At last, she mastered herself and remembered how she was supposed to act.

She stood stiffly, knowing full well that Mary would see into her eyes and know the play for what it was: acting merely, and not at all the deepest feelings of her heart.

“I wish you both every happiness,” she said, in a tone that was intended to convey forced politeness, covering up a deep well of hurt.

She swept out of the room with an injured grace. By happy coincidence, the layout of the house was such that the staircase leading to her chamber was close by to the door of the sitting room.

Leaping upon this opportunity, Juliana climbed the stairs only until she was mostly out of sight, then sat down and leaned her head forward so that she might see between the banisters and hear the words coming from the room.

“This is preposterous!” the Duke, evidently the first one amongst them to regain his voice, was saying.

“How can such a thing have come to pass? The two of you are barely acquainted – and you, sir, I believe have not even met Lady Mary’s father!”

“I wrote him some weeks ago,” John explained calmly.

For all his faults, Juliana thought, his docile personality was at least something that allowed him to remain mild and well-mannered at a time like this.

“I expressed my sentiments regarding his daughter, and he wrote back with his permission. I expect we shall visit them anon.”

“But what a match!” the Duke continued. His rage did not seem to have reduced; rather, his voice was louder still. “She has not a tenth of your position!”

“I think the gap rather smaller than that,” John replied in his same mild way.

“I believe she is only one step removed from that of your daughter’s own position, Your Grace. If it were not so, they would not have been allowed to become friends.”

The Duke had nothing to say to that, but Juliana heard him spluttering, searching for words to express his outrage.

“Your mind is made up on this matter?” the Baroness questioned.

She seemed to have regained her composure somewhat, for her voice was as sharp and measured as ever, if perhaps just the slightest point higher in pitch.

“It is, Mother,” John said. “I have loved Mary since the first moment we met. I am aware that your designs lay elsewhere, and I am sorry for that.

“We have no doubt caused some great troubling by falling for one another like this, but in truth, it has been going on for some time.”

“You betray your friend like this?” the Duke demanded, this time evidently of Mary. Juliana clutched the loose fabric of her dress involuntarily, wishing she could intervene on her friend’s behalf.

“I did not intend it to be so,” Mary said, quietly and with a slight tremor in her voice. Juliana strained to hear, even through the open door.

“I merely came to accompany Juliana on her walks and rides, and to ensure that she always had a confidante.

“But during all of those times when Lord Ascot rode with her, he rode also with me. When he conversed with her, he conversed also with me. So my affections rose, though I did not dare to believe they might be reciprocated.”

“That is where I came in,” John said, with unmistakable pride in his voice.

“I had the temerity to speak to Mary privately of my feelings, and I was blessed to find them returned. But we knew we must not proceed until the proper channels had been addressed, namely, speaking to her father and ensuring that all was well.”

“All is not well,” the Duke snapped, his voice and footsteps coming closer towards the door. “All is not well at all.”

Juliana leaped to her feet in a rustle of silk, and only just managed to dart inside her room before the Duke came up the stairs, retreating to the quarters he had been loaned.

It was only a short time later than Mary came up to find her, and the pair closed the door to their shared room so that they could talk properly.

The first thing that Juliana did was to embrace her friend warmly, and then pull back to look her square in the face.

“I am not at all angry with you,” she said. “I hope you could see that.”

“Of course,” Mary laughed. “I am not forgetful. I know that you find John dull; you have told me so each day since we first met him.”

“And are you truly happy?” Juliana asked.

“Yes, I am,” Mary said, and her beam showed that her words were no lie. “I have made a far better match than I imagined would be possible. My father is ecstatic, my mother too. I cannot wait to be wed.”

“Do you truly love him?” Juliana asked, guiding her friend over to sit on the side of the bed.

Mary looked to the floor before she answered, apparently giving it careful thought. “I am happy to be with him,” she answered.

“He is not a handsome man, and nor am I seeing some secretly exciting side of him that you do not. But he is a stable man and a patient one, and I do not believe he will ever be unkind to me.

“Beyond that, we will share a comfortable life together. For that, I am very happy.”

“Then I am happy for you,” Juliana said, embracing her friend again. If there was a tear in her eye, it was because she was so pleased to see that her friend would be well; and that she would find her own kind of wedded bliss.

It may not have been real love, but the gentle nature she knew both of their souls to possess would surely make for a harmonious and happy household.

“Have you spoken about where you will go?” Juliana asked.

“We will first travel immediately to see my family,” Mary said. “I am to begin packing today and leave tomorrow. I suspect the Duke may take you away from here swiftly, at any rate.”

Juliana offered her a downturned mouth, an expression of loss at the end of their time together. “I will be sad to part from you, but I believe you are correct.”

“Once with my family, we will make the preparations and wed soon. There is no reason for delay. The Baroness, in her forthright way, has given us permission. She will follow after us in a day or two and we will likely hold the ceremony down there.”

“And after?”

Mary gave her a girlish smile which told how excited she really was.

“We shall find his parish. I have instructed him to search in this part of the country only. I know you may have to move when you marry Christopher, but I want a good chance that we will remain close enough to visit.”

“I should like that very much,” Juliana said, squeezing Mary’s hands.

It was touching to hear not just a thought for the future of their friendship, but also a glowing belief that Juliana would achieve her goal.

“You will attend the wedding?” Mary asked earnestly.

Juliana frowned and sighed. “I wish to do so,” she said. “The Duke is angry, however. It may be that he forbids it.

“My mother, too. They will see this as a betrayal on your part, as if you snuck in behind my back. I know the truth, of course.”

Mary bit her lip and nodded. “I understand,” she said, though the words lingered in the air over the knowledge they both shared – that she would very much have liked to see her friend there by her side.

“So, this is to be our last night together as maidens,” Juliana said, giving her a heartfelt smile, even if it was a little watery around the edges.

“We shall have to make the most of it.”

“I will ask the cook to bring us some cake,” Mary said, her eyes sparkling. “And we shall practice pinning up one another’s hair, and have a fashion show with our gowns.”

“And the bed sheets,” Juliana said, laughing. “We will pin them into the latest fashions.”

The two girls embraced again, both of them holding back tears. For even if the reason was a happy one, the era of their close friendship was coming to a close, as it always did for young women who grew up with one another.

Just as Juliana’s sisters had grown, married, and moved away, so the two of them had to do the same.

Chapter 30

Christopher had had a lot to think about, these past days. He felt, in many ways, as if he had progressed into another chapter of life: another layer of understanding of how the world worked, and the people in it.

He had been perhaps quite naïve in taking the expressions of people like Jasper and Kitty at face value. He would not make the same mistake so easily again in the future.

He was applying himself more seriously to his duties, and he felt that he was at least making good on some of the promises he had made. The others might take longer to come through, given their nature; but he would not abandon the path he had taken up.

Christopher was walking back to the barracks one late afternoon, after taking part in a drill exercise, when he saw a man who at first was not familiar at all.

He looked to be a beggar: he wore threadbare clothing, and his bedraggled hair had perhaps not been washed for some days. There was even dirt and grime on his face and hands.

But as he approached, Christopher saw with horror that the man was not a stranger at all. It was a man he recognized well.

It was Brazen; the man formerly a Captain, whose position Jasper had stolen from underneath him.

“Hardwicke,” Brazen breathed, as he came closer. Then he seemed to remember himself, and that he was no longer in a superior position. “Lieutenant, sir.”

“Brazen,” Christopher greeted him, feeling the blood drain from his face.

“I – I came here to…” Brazen faltered for a moment, looking at the ground. He was clearly warring with something inside of himself. “M-might you spare a coin?”

Christopher watched him with utter horror. Here was what he had wrought, he and Jasper. For all their positioning and talk of advancement, all their selfish and greedy reasons, they had cast one of the best men amongst them down into the dirt.

“Come with me,” Christopher said urgently, grasping him by the arm and leading him inside the barracks.

A civilian man should not have been allowed to enter, particularly not one who looked like a beggar; but evidently, this man was recognized, and so was the fierce determination on Christopher’s face.

Once they were inside the privacy of Christopher’s room, he sat Brazen down on the spare cot and then sat on his own, facing him.

“Are you truly brought so low?” Christopher asked, unable to keep a tear from his eye. “You are begging for food?”

Brazen looked down at the floor, thoroughly ashamed. “I am sleeping under the trees,” he said, apparently taking Christopher’s words for rebuke.

“My wife was tortured by the allegations against me, and for her sake I removed myself. There was no other occupation left to me; being a soldier is all I know. I have nothing, but these clothes I wear.”

Christopher had to pause for breath. He knew he should make a response, but he found himself unable for a long moment.

“I know who did this to you,” he said at last.

Brazen raised an incredulous eye.

“I am partially responsible. For that, you have my eternal shame and as many apologies as can be heaped upon a man in his lifetime. I will put this right. I swear it to you,” Christopher said.

Brazen seemed unable to understand what he was saying. “You will… put it right?”

“I go now to the Major,” Christopher said, standing up. “Please, rest in my room here. The bed is free. Help yourself to anything. There are some small cakes and treats in a tin just there; I picked them up as a souvenir on my last leave.

“You are welcome to them. When you are feeling stronger, go to the baths; and if anyone should question you, tell them you are given your rank back.”

“The Major will give it back?” Brazen asked, everything filtering through to his dazed consciousness in pieces.

“I go to make sure of it,” Christopher said. He straightened his uniform and checked the buttons on his sleeves. “Even if it costs me my commission, I swear to you. I will put this right.”

With that he left, shutting the door to give the man some privacy and to prevent any cowardly notion of delaying further.

Christopher’s blood felt cold within his veins. How had he managed to go so wrong? He was meant to rescue the former Captain immediately on his return, as he had discussed with Edmund.

Yet again, he had allowed himself to be distracted. Yet again, he had put his own selfish desires first.

He strode to the Major’s office, fuelled by anger this time – a righteous anger at his own self.

Yes, he probably would be dismissed for this. A dishonorable discharge from the military, which would see him publicly shamed. And fine! Well and good it was! He deserved it, for what he had done.

It would probably destroy any chance at all that he and Juliana had of being happy together. But he deserved it. He deserved all of that and more.

It was time to be a man, a real gentleman, and face up to what he had done.

The Major was blessedly free when Christopher came and knocked upon his door. He did not have to wait out in the corridor or fight against a demand to return another day; that much was the best luck he could hope for.

Standing in front of the man, who sat behind his desk with a harried expression and an imposing presence, Christopher felt his nerve try to fail. But he would not let it.

No, this would be done – or he would never forgive himself for it.

“Major, I have a report to make,” he said, standing smartly to attention. “It concerns the disgraced former Captain Brazen, and Captain Rivers.”

The Major eyed him with some impatience. “I have just heard from several others that Brazen has been making a nuisance of himself,” he said.

“I cannot do much about it unless you expect me to throw the man out on his ear. Which, incidentally, I will do if his nuisance grows.”

“That is not the problem, sir,” Christopher said, shifting uncomfortably. “My report is about his dismissal. It was unfair, sir. None of the accusations leveled against him were true.”

“He resigned of his own accord,” the Major said, leaning forward over his desk. “But, continue.”

“Captain Brazen was the victim of a plot,” Christopher said, taking a deep breath. “Initiated by myself and Captain Rivers.

“The plan was to disgrace him entirely so that he would feel duty-bound to resign, which he did. Then I would step in to take his place. Except, of course, that Rivers was quicker than me.”

The Major’s brow furrowed deeply. “This is a serious accusation, Hardwicke,” he said. “Think carefully before you proceed.”

“I have thought, Major,” Christopher said, rushing on now that he was here. “It has been all I could think of, at times. Today I met with Captain Brazen outside the barracks and I saw what we had reduced him to.

“I had already resolved to come forward, but now I know I cannot put it off for a moment later. Captain Brazen is innocent of everything.”

“Explain to me how this came to pass,” the Major said, narrowing his eyes.

“I needed to advance my commission in order to seek the hand of the woman I love,” Christopher said, plainly, not bothering to spare his own blushes. Only the truth would do.

“I brought this problem to Jasper, who at the time was my close friend. He provided me a solution which I did not at first agree with.

“We would sneak and place such items in the Captain’s room as would incriminate him in some scandals. Stolen items, and items belonging to loose women, that would make it appear as though he were guilty of multiple sins.

“Then we would wait for them to be discovered, and in the following hue and cry, await the Captain’s resignation, thus opening a commission for me to take.

“I knew it was wrong from the start, but I allowed myself to be persuaded. Rivers stole the necessary items, then planted them, as I kept watch. The next morning, I came to confess all.

“But I saw him here with you – and I was stunned. It was not until after that I found out what he had done, taking the Captaincy for himself.”

The Major rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If what you say is true,” he said slowly. “Then you and Rivers both are fit for dismissal.”

“Yes, sir,” Christopher said, hanging his head. “And I can prove it. I will describe for you all of the items you recovered from Captain Brazen’s room. I know them in clear detail.”

“You will not win your lady love, if you are no longer in the army at all,” the Major mused.

“No, sir,” Christopher said, feeling the words burn in the back of his throat.

“Rivers jumping in ahead of you is of no concern to me,” the Major said. “But perhaps you confess this now out of spite? To bring him low?”

“No, sir, only to raise Captain Brazen high again,” Christopher said earnestly. “But there is more. Rivers – the money he used to purchase his commission.

“He got it from a girl’s father, who insisted that Rivers raise himself to Captain and then marry his daughter, who was in a position of disgrace. Disgrace brought by Rivers himself, sir.”

“And are they now married?”

“No, sir. I believe Rivers took the money and then refused the man, and abandoned the girl.”

The Major considered all of this silently, looking into the distance and thinking his own thoughts. He looked down at a piece of paper in front of him and made a few scratches on it with a quill pen, then set it aside.

Christopher waited awkwardly, feeling as though he were watching everything unravel in front of him yet again. When he looked back later in life, he knew, this would be the moment where his future with Juliana was lost.

He only hoped that there was still a chance for her to marry that lord after all, and find some happiness of her own kind.

“Alright,” the Major said at last, standing up and straightening his uniform. “I have made a decision. Hardwicke, you will come with me. We go to Rivers.”

Chapter 31

The Duchess of Prighton was in a foul mood, as she had been for weeks.

Ever since Juliana had returned in her step-father’s carriage, bearing the news that Mary was to be wed, the woman had stormed around the house in fits of misery.

There were many rows, and plenty of choice phrases that Juliana believed she could now recite by rote; it was all that commonly spoken aloud. All of this, and she had also been banned from attending the wedding, a fact which grieved her greatly.

Mary had not exaggerated the timeframe with which they intended to move forward. They had already scheduled a date and were then married within a few weeks only.

Juliana sat at home, feeling glum, and watched the early summer sun from her bedroom window.

“You are a lazy girl,” her mother clucked furiously, passing by the door and seeing her daughter resting idly.

“Imagine sitting and staring out a window with no other purpose all day long. It is no small wonder you are to become a spinster.”

“I have a purpose,” Juliana said hotly. “It is thinking of my dearest friend and sending her prayers of happiness, since I cannot be with her on this, her wedding day!”

“A day which you will never see, despite the injury you knew it would cause your poor mother,” the Duchess retorted.

“The man she weds today was your final and only chance at a good marriage. Courted so many times, betrothed once, and not a marriage out of it. What fine family will look at you now?”

“The Hardwickes,” Juliana replied, though she wished immediately that she hadn’t.

“A fine family, I asked for,” the Duchess scoffed.

Juliana did not know where they had got it into their heads that the Hardwickes were not a fine family, for they were well-respected and liked most everywhere; but Juliana could not find the space to interrupt.

“And here you are, wishing you could be there to see the betrayal of your so-called friend, who would sneak in and rob the food from your plate and the dresses from your wardrobe if you looked away!”

“Mary is a good person, through and through!” Juliana told her.

This was the part that irked her most of all of it: that there should be any kind of smear against Mary’s name, when she knew her to be one of the kindest and gentlest creatures in all of Christendom.

“She marries with my blessing. I never wanted that tiresome man for a husband, and you were made aware of it.”

“What kind of pernicious, haughty, self-important girl you are!” the Duchess exclaimed.

“What right have you to choose your own husband? What is it that makes you think you can have your say? Do you think I chose to marry your father from love? No! It was a match of names, and we accepted it, and we liked it!”

“Bully for you,” Juliana said rudely. “At least you found a man you tolerated well.”

The Duchess gasped in outrage. “A successful marriage and a happy life is not about finding someone interesting,” she said, mirroring the words of the Baroness from not long before.

“It is about making a good match, creating heirs, and then enjoying your life on your estate. An estate which you will not have!”

“I have this one,” Juliana pointed out. She was quite tired of all this rowing and was near enough ready to mount outright insubordination.

“I shall be here as long as you live. And when you die, perhaps my brother will allow me to linger on in the attic.”

“I shall ensure he does no such thing,” the Duchess replied. “He will see you in the poorhouse and know that it is only your own actions that have taken you there.”

“That seems spiteful,” Juliana commented.

“If I am spiteful, it is because of the spite with which you have treated me,” the Duchess declared. “Your own mother! Two daughters and a son successfully wed, and only one left to haunt me in my old age!”

“I shall haunt you no more if you like. Perhaps you would prefer to send me off to live with my Aunt, your sister? Mrs. Reffern is all alone in this world, after all!”

The Duchess reeled as if slapped. “And you dare to use that against her!” she said.

“Believe me, Mrs. Reffern had not the opportunities that you have been given. If John Woode should have proposed to her, she would have snatched him up in an instant!”

“John Woode did not propose to me,” Juliana pointed out, not unreasonably.

“He did not propose because you are a spiteful, vicious, lazy, vindictive girl,” the Duchess yelled.

“I will not hear another word from you – not one more word this week entire! You remain here – don’t you dare come out – I will not hear or see you!”

With that, the Duchess slammed the door to Juliana’s chamber closed, and left her quite alone.

Juliana could not prevent bitter tears from sliding down her face. She felt exceedingly sorry for herself and did not feel that it was arrogant or indulgent to do so.

In short order, she had been forbidden from marrying her love, discovered that his path to becoming worthy of her family had been derailed, lost both her intended husband and best friend, and was now being shunned by her own family.

That was all not to mention the hurtful things that her mother had said, and continued to say.

Finally, to be shut into her own room for a week as punishment was just the cherry on top of the cake. How could she even bear it?

She was to discover the answer to that question soon enough, as her mother stayed true to her word.

The Duchess posted a maid outside Juliana’s room at all times, who was to tell the girl she could not go outside whenever she so much as cracked open her door.

Juliana supposed that she could have rebelled and flung the door wide and run out onto the wide lawns, but she was sure that the maid would have suffered for it.

They brought her food and baths into the room, and helped her to change her clothes, and emptied her privy pot for her. Life continued just as normal, with the exception of the fact that she remained inside four cloistered walls for that whole time, and saw not a bit of her mother or step-father.

She was several days into this punishment when a letter arrived, snuck in by the maid, with Mary’s neat handwriting on the front. Juliana nearly wept as she tore open the envelope, and even more so as she read what was inside.

My dearest friend,

Juliana, I am so sorry that you could not make it to our wedding. It would have been the most wonderful thing to have you there, as my truest and dearest friend. I suppose the Duke and Duchess would not allow you, so I forgive all.

I only wish you had seen it! There was much festivity, and I do not think I have been the center of so much attention in my whole life entire. I stood with Lord Ascot – now my Lord Ascot – and we exchanged our solemn vows before God.

I am so happy! I have never felt this way in all my life. John showers me with such attention and ensures that I have all I need.

We have returned to live with the Dowager Baroness for a short while, but within the month we will relocate to our new parish. I will enclose the new address along with this letter so that you may write to me in return, or visit me when you are able.

There is an open invitation for you, my dear! John knows how much I favor your company, and he bears no ill will towards you, even though you did call him dull and boring.

He says that you are welcome in our home at any time. By then I shall be the wife of a clergyman and baron! Can you believe it?

I never thought I should marry at all, at some times. I thought I should be a lonely old spinster and watch you grow old and happy with your children.

I am so glad this picture will not come to pass. When you are married, our children will play together and become the firmest friends.

I hope I will be invited to your wedding, even though you could not attend mine!

I am looking forward to becoming mistress of my own household. For the next several weeks I shall observe the Dowager Baroness, and see all that she does in managing her staff.

We will not have such a large staff – a very small one indeed – but if I may lead them with one-tenth of her authority, we are sure to do well.

Until we can meet again, I hope you will favor me with your letters. I am missing you so already. You have been my constant companion these years and I am so grateful for it.

Yours waiting for a return to our friendship,

The new Lady Ascot

The sight of Mary’s new married name made Juliana burst into tears, and she was filled with such regret that she had not been able to accompany her on her wedding day.

What a sight it must have been! Juliana would have dearly loved to have seen her dress, and the way she wore her hair, and the flowers.

She raised her tear-stained face to the window again, one of her favorite habits now since it was her only outlet to the outside world. She thought of all that she had said and done and felt a little ashamed of herself.

Had she not been selfish, all this time? A better friend might have guessed that Mary had her own designs on John Woode, and was dreaming of marrying him.

A better friend might have talked of a subject other than herself, and allowed Mary to discuss her own thoughts and opinions.

And Mary was the best friend of them all, to bear it all so sweetly and remain by her side.

Juliana took out a pen and parchment and wrote a swift reply, though once it was done, she began to wish she had taken longer about it.

It was something that could break up the boredom; but it being done, she was again left without any meaningful or constructive way to pass the time.

She lay back on her bed, and stared up at the ceiling. There, instead of seeing the white expanse above her head, she saw pictures drawn directly from her mind.

At first, she tried to picture Mary in a fine dress and standing before an altar, but this image quickly began to pale in interest since she could not know how the real thing had looked.

Then her thoughts turned to Christopher, as they always did; and she pictured herself this time, and the image stuck.

Juliana imagined him sitting down at the breakfast table with eggs and fruit, and herself beside him. She imagined him reading the paper, in smart clothes because he was on leave.

Juliana allowed her mind to continue to wander, and she saw herself walking with Christopher, walking through some small town.

Children dashed to and fro amongst the streets, and there was an inordinate number of soldiers around: they were by his barracks.

She had her arm through the crook of his elbow and they stopped at a roadside stall, where he purchased a pretty yet cheap trinket for her pleasure only.

Juliana shifted in her bed, turning on her side, and closed her eyes to picture Christopher laying there beside her. He wore his uniform, as he always did, because it was the only thing she had ever seen him wearing, but in his eyes was a look of great affection that no one could mistake this was their marriage bed.

Juliana felt her cheeks heat, even alone, with the intense happiness such an image brought upon her. All they had to do was make it real, and she knew that that happiness would be theirs beyond measure.

But making it real was proving such a difficult thing to do.

Juliana was certain of one thing: they would be man and wife, somewhere, somehow, she knew not when. But it would happen. She could not bear to think of that marital bliss that now enveloped Mary being denied to her, and denied to Christopher too.

Was there any justice in a world which allowed them to be apart for even one more second?

Though, she had heard that absence made the heart grow fonder; and so she resolved to see this momentary separation in a positive light. It would only make him dream of her, as she dreamed of him, which was all the more guarantee they would be together one day.

Chapter 32

“I have done nothing of the sort,” Jasper declared, his face the very picture of shocked and offended innocence.

“Hardwicke here says differently,” the Major said. “So, Captain. How will we get to the bottom of this one?”

“By dismissing Hardwicke,” Jasper answered immediately. “The man is impertinent.”

“The man was a close friend of yours at one time, was he not?” the Major countered.

“At one time, perhaps,” Jasper conceded. “But no more. His bitterness at my rise above his station has no doubt clouded his mind. I would be tempted to forgive, but we cannot go easy on those who would seek to destroy our army from within.”

The Major considered him quietly for a moment, then swung his gaze back to Christopher. “What say you?” he asked.

“I say nothing, Major,” Christopher said, simply. “The truth will out. Captain Rivers has a reputation already.”

The Major drew a folded letter out from the interior of his red jacket, and held it in one hand as he paced back and forward between them. “Do you know what this is, officers?”

“No, sir,” they both echoed, glancing at one another in distaste to find that they even shared the same response.

“This is a letter,” the Major said, with the grand air of a preacher beginning a sermon. “It is a letter that I received just this morning. Might I read an excerpt to you?”

“As you wish, sir,” Christopher muttered, at the same time as Jasper inclined his head in acquiescence – though there was a jerky nature to his movements. Perhaps, Christopher thought, a reluctance.

“Let’s see,” the Major said, unfolding the paper and fitting a monocle to his right eye.

“Most honorable Major… hope this finds you well… ah yes, here we are: ‘My daughter’s reputation has been rendered into the ground by this scoundrel, who even now serves in a higher position bought with my own coin’. Who do you think that may be referring to, Captain Rivers?”

Jasper swallowed visibly, but said nothing.

“Nothing?” the Major asked. “Very well. I will tell you. It is referring to you, Captain Rivers, and it reinforces part of a tale which I have recently heard from Lieutenant Hardwicke and just now recounted to you. Would you have me believe he tells the truth here, yet lies elsewhere?”

“A man may do it,” Jasper retorted.

“A man may,” the Major said, drawing himself up to his full stature. “But a gentleman would not. And you, Captain, have never been a gentleman. Nor will you ever be; for you are dismissed.

“I advise you to go and lose yourself in the wilderness, before we reach a decision on whether you ought to be court-martialled for this.”

Christopher blew out a heavy sigh of relief. Until this moment, though he had hoped for it, he had not truly been able to believe that justice would be done.

Jasper simply stared, his jaw open, his eyes switching between Christopher and the Major as if trying to determine where his appeal should land. None of them said a word, the Major’s pronouncement hanging in the air.

The Major turned on his heel, and rather than wait alone in a room with Jasper, Christopher followed after him.

Clearly, the man felt that Jasper had been given ample time to make his reply; and, having been unable to make one, he was summarily to be ignored.

“Major, if I may,” Christopher said hastily, attempting to catch up with his superior. “There is one other thing.”

The Major gave him a sideways glance. “Be careful, Hardwicke,” he said. “You will notice that I have not yet made the decision to dismiss you. By the skin of your teeth, you remain an officer. Do not tempt me to go further.”

Christopher struggled for a moment with the urge to save himself.

Was the right move to beg, to try to explain himself? To be quiet and hope that the Major forgot his transgressions? What would be most likely to keep him his commission?

But that was not the most important thing here, he reminded himself. There was something else that needed to be done.

“It is regarding Captain Brazen, sir,” Christopher said, ducking his head in deference. “He is in my quarters.”

The Major tipped his head to one side, regarding Christopher. “You intend that I should go and speak with him?”

“If it pleases you, sir,” Christopher said. He had never understood so clearly how it felt for a servant to ask permission of his master; had never grasped that humility and abasement until now. “I do believe he is worthy.”

The Major paused before bursting out into a short, sharp laugh. “You are an amusement to me, lad,” he said. “Did you think I had any other intention except to see him reinstated? At least you have made it easy for me. Come, then. Take me to him.”

Brazen was sitting waiting, precisely where Christopher had left him, on the spare cot.

“Sir,” Christopher said, leaving the door open and stepping aside so that the Major could enter first.

At the sight of them, Brazen straightened his back and shoulders, assuming a true military posture.

He had a modicum of the old pride still left in him, enough to lift his head high. Though he wore dirty rags and was disheveled in appearance, it was still obvious that he was and had always been a soldier.

“I have heard a tale today, the likes of which you would not credit,” the Major said as if he were talking casually to an old friend. “Can you believe that you were the main subject?”

“I can, Major,” Brazen said, lifting his head and meeting the other man’s eye with admirable inner strength.

“The tale goes like this: an idiot attempts to disgrace his senior officer. The officer, being a man of good character and noble bearing, resigns in order to keep his reputation. Does it sound familiar, so far?” the Major asked.

Brazen only inclined his head, indicating for him to continue.

“But the idiot involves a friend who is not quite so brash and reckless, nor as ruthless, as himself. And so, the truth outs; the idiot is brought low,” the Major said. “Could you possibly guess at the ending of this tale?”

“I cannot,” Brazen said, his hollow cheeks and deep-sunk eyes the very picture of the loss of hope that should have burned brightly.

“The officer is reinstated,” the Major said; and then, more gently, seeing the lack of comprehension, he added: “That is you, Captain Brazen. Your position is yours once again.”

There was a long pause before Captain Brazen raised himself up off the cot and made a sharp, smart salute, his gaze raised to the ceiling and his heels clacking together. There was moisture in his eyes, and he said nothing at all.

The Major patted him on the arm, no doubt intended as a gesture of comfort. “At ease,” he said. “I will see you have your quarters returned to you. We should see about a new uniform, also.”

“Thank you, sir,” Brazen managed to gasp out, lowering his arm.

Christopher watched it all, and a feeling welled up inside him that took him quite by surprise.

He had never in his life been quite this sure that he had done the right thing, the absolute right thing, even if it was at the expense of his own future.

He, too, drew himself up into a formal stance, ready to receive whatever punishment would now be meted out.

He deserved it, he knew; and he welcomed it, for his part in the plot which would have laid this courageous man down forever.

“Sir,” Brazen said, finding his tongue again. “If I may. I would like to know if a decision has been made regarding Lieutenant Hardwicke and his involvement in all of this.”

“It has not,” the Major said, thoughtfully, eyeing them both.

“I would like to add a word, if I may, to your deliberations,” Brazen said.

“Go on,” the Major replied, with a little impatience.

“He has come forward; a thing that must have been difficult to do. While he did take part in an attempt to have me discredited…”

Brazen paused, swallowing down the all-too-recent emotions once more.

“While he did do wrong, he has also now done right in seeing the results of his actions corrected. For that reason, I do not wish for him to be punished. He should keep his commission.”

The Major considered this for a moment, then nodded decisively.

“I am willing to accommodate your good feelings,” he said. “On the proviso that you make a particular report of his good behavior these next months, as he serves under you. Should there be the merest whiff of another infraction, I shall not be merciful.”

Christopher felt a moment of stunned joy. It was not even relief, not as it was when he had seen Jasper demoted at last; he had been so sure that his own name would be mud along with it that he had not even thought to hope.

No, it was now as if he were being given his own position all over again.

“Thank you, sir,” he got out, his voice as strangled as Brazen’s had been only a moment before.

“Make sure I do not have cause to regret it,” the Major said gravely. He beckoned to Brazen and the two of them left together, Christopher saluting them as they went.

Christopher sank down on his cot and dropped his head into his hands. He had been saved! What grace it was, what unexpected boon.

All was not lost. There was hope yet that he could win his way back into favor, though it was slim, and hope that he could attain the position Juliana needed of him.

“I suppose you’re happy now,” Jasper sneered.

Christopher looked up in surprise, to see him framed in the doorway of what had previously been their shared bunk. “Jasper?”

“Don’t act surprised,” Jasper said. “I suppose you’re quite happy to see me, brought so low as I am.”

“I am not,” Christopher tried to protest, but Jasper was not done.

“I spit on you, and your line,” Jasper said, his face twisted with anger. “Wherever I go, I will spread foul muck on the name of Hardwicke, and that is a promise you should believe in.”

“You will not be able to spread it very far,” Christopher said, finding himself strangely calm.

He was not even upset at the turnaround of the man who had once been his friend, able now to say such things as this. He supposed they had never really been friends at all.

“No one will listen to you, now that you are not a soldier. You are nobody.”

“I will be somebody,” Jasper said darkly. “I will be a husband. And with my wife comes a title.”

“Does it?” Christopher tilted his head to one side, playing at the act of thought. “I wonder if they will let you marry their daughter, after all; or if there will be some old widower whose prospects suddenly seem more inviting than an unemployed commoner.

“Ruined reputation or no, there are plenty below her rank who might have cause to ignore it – or create their own version of the tale.”

Jasper’s face contorted through different shapes, perhaps driven by the rage he wanted to express; perhaps by the fear and doubt that Christopher hoped he had managed to instill in him.

“This isn’t over,” he said, at last.

“It’s over,” Christopher told him. “You can count on that.”

“No matter how long it takes, or what happens to me,” Jasper vowed. “I will do whatever is in my power to see you destroyed. Not just you, but your whole family – the entire name of Hardwicke.”

They stared one another down. Christopher gave him a casual, bored look; he would not be cowed by such threats, especially coming as they did from a man who was now set to be utterly powerless in a very functional way.

Still, he could not help the small tickle at the back of his neck as his hairs stood on end, telling him that maybe there was something to these words.

And though he did not believe them – or wish to believe them – there was a part of him that could not ignore such things, just in case they were a real threat of things to come.

At last, Jasper turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Christopher to close the door and find himself some peace.

Chapter 33

Juliana plucked up her quill pen, feeling now that she must write, and do it immediately.

A fever had taken hold of her, borne out of her long seclusion and longing for him, and her dreams of their future. A fever that would not be vented until she had written to Christopher, and read his reply.

Oh, how dreadfully she missed his company! His quick remarks, his wit, the dashing figure that he cut as they danced together!

Without Mary, she was quite alone in the world, or so it seemed; and only Christopher could make it so that she was alone no more.

She put her quill to the paper and wrote.

My dearest Christopher,

I am so desperate, I can only write to you. I know it is a risk that I take, for Mama and the Duke will doubtless be unhappy with me if they find my communication with you. But I have no other choice.

Oh, Christopher! It is so awful. Mary is gone, married off to John Woode. At least I am no longer expected to be his bride, but I am now alone in the world.

No friend by my side, and not even the diversion of visiting the Baroness or being forced to walk or ride with them – odious as it was.

Instead, I am locked away like a princess in a tower, and I feel often the displeasure of the household.

I think of you often. Mary is happy and settled in her new married life, which was entered into swiftly once the proposal made. They have not yet their own home, though they surely will soon.

I read her letters, telling me of bliss, and I can only dream of our own. I think of us at the table, or sitting together, or walking.

Such mundane, everyday things that every married man and wife must do together. Even those small scenes are a source of comfort to me, for I wish only to be with you once more.

Do you dream of me, Christopher? Say it is so. I cannot bear it if you shall forget me out there in your barracks.

One day soon I will be forced to run away from here and find you, and elope into the night, even if it cost me everything.

I cannot tell you how I long for this wait to be over. I pray you will send me good news in return, and that I shall receive it rather than seeing it confiscated. I pray you will have a promotion to tell me of.

In case you are unable to write back, or I cannot receive it, I will wait for you two weeks hence under the large oak tree at the border of our estate.

If you can get away, please, come and find me. Even to see your face for some half an hour will be a comfort that might carry me through a season.

I hope you do not think me weak for needing to see it. I find I am weak, and cannot go on without it. I pray that you will be there, and I wait to receive from you in the meantime any positive remembrance that you may be able to send.

Yours in hope and love,

Juliana

After a moment of thought, Juliana left off her full name; better it be this way, less of a signpost to anyone who might intercept and read it.

She hoped desperately that she could trust her maid, and that this time the letter would not go astray. Even as it was a vain hope, given previous events, she still held onto it.

The time had come, she realized, though she had not anticipated it. This whole while, when she thought of being Christopher’s wife, it had been as a distant event in some future where they would be older and somehow this commitment might be easy for them.

Now, though, it was time; and she knew it was time.

When she thought of their wedding now, she pictured it taking place tomorrow. When she imagined their married life, it was herself, now, at this age, that she pictured.

There was no longer any desire to wait or mature, no wish to let things move as they would. She was ready to be his wife – and what a cruel injustice that she had no power to make it so.

Chapter 34

Christopher had begun to feel that it was all hopeless.

He had not taken any leave, but instead had endeavored to apply himself to his duties. He had taken the most menial of tasks for his Captain and his Major, and he had done them graciously, with thanks for the opportunity to serve.

He had applied himself in drills and worked hard on the men under his command, to ensure that each of them was a soldier worthy of his name.

And still, he labored on, unrecognized and unthanked, and still a Lieutenant.

Which was his own fault, he knew, but what a cross it was to bear.

“Letter for you, sir,” a young boy said, peering his head around Christopher’s door. He had taken to leaving it open whenever he was inside, to make himself available at all times.

Christopher crossed the room to take it. Perhaps it was a missive from Edmund about the progress of his babe, or something from Samuel detailing his latest achievements at school.

And then he saw Juliana’s neat handwriting on the envelope, and his heart soared.

He closed the door hastily behind the retreating boy, and tore at the paper in his haste to open it. The letter inside tumbled into his waiting hands, and he sat on his cot to read it with hands that shook with excitement.

Over and over, he read every line, savored her truest feelings spilled out in ink for him.

He hastily checked the date, and found that the letter had made its way to him in good time; he was not late for the meeting she wished to arrange.

This was why he was working so hard; he remembered, now, and felt the push that it gave him to continue. If only he could receive a letter like this every week, he would never have even thought of faltering!

He had to meet her; that much was certain. He could no more allow her to suffer alone than he could deny himself the pleasure of seeing her again.

He made the arrangements – with no need to take an extended period of leave, since he would be there and back in the day; all he needed was a horse under him, and a gift to give her a token of his love.

Time seemed to move slowly after that, the days ticking onwards second by second, minute by minute. It seemed interminable, and he began to feel even as though the day would never come.

But come it did, and he set off early in the morning, riding for hours to reach her in time.

On reaching the estate, some subterfuge was needed. Christopher rode along a public way for as far as he could, and then, with a glance to check there was no one around to see, he followed a fence along the delineation of the estate from its neighbor.

It was lucky that the area around was farmland, and that he could move without having to jump fences – or climb them and leave his steed on the road for any passing thief to claim.

The oak tree rose in the distance, at first a speck and then something more recognizable: and as he drew closer, he made out her silhouette beneath it, and then he charged his horse on as fast as it could go.

He dismounted in haste, hitching the animal to the fence with fumbling fingers before he ducked through the posts and ran to her.

“Christopher!” she cried out, seemingly unable to contain herself, taking steps towards him.

He crashed against her in his rush, grasping her tightly, holding her to him so that neither would fall. It was scandalous, but there was no one to see; and so he took her by the chin and lifted her face up, and kissed her there under the oak tree, deeply and with feeling.

She gasped for breath as he released her, staring up into his eyes. “Kiss me again,” she begged.

“I cannot,” Christopher said, smiling as he took a step away, to lean on the trunk of the tree. “I fear I would not be able to restrain myself from going further than an unmarried lady should go.”

Juliana caught her breath, one hand to her stomach. “I do not know that I would stop you,” she said.

“Then it is just as well that I do not kiss you again,” Christopher grinned, both sadness and joy mixed into it.

“Christopher, you must rescue me,” Juliana said, clutching one of his hands in both of hers. “I can’t bear it. We could run away together.”

“My love,” Christopher smiled sadly, putting his free hand to her cheek.

“I know you want things to change. But we have to be patient. I am working hard, but after the whole mess with Jasper… I am lucky to be a Lieutenant still. I swear to you, I will not stop working until I am a Captain, and I will come back for you.”

“What if it isn’t enough?” Juliana asked. “What if they refuse you all the same? Or they marry me off to some hideous little lord of nothing, to have it all done with?”

“I will make it enough,” Christopher said. “I swore it to the Duke, and I swear it again now to you. I have been building not just my commission, but also my reputation. There is much damage I have to repair.”

“How so?” Juliana asked.

“Here,” Christopher said, taking off his jacket and spreading it across the ground. “Sit. I feel you trembling.”

“I am so weak with this longing,” Juliana moaned, sitting down where he had bidden her.

“Let me tell you of my plans,” Christopher said, settling down beside her.

“There is Captain Brazen, who is an inspiration to me. I have spent my time becoming one of his most trusted officers, and taking his lead. He is an honorable man, perhaps the most honorable I have ever met; and if I can be half as honorable as him, your parents would never refuse me.”

“He is the Captain that your friend Rivers displaced?” Juliana asked.

“The same,” Christopher confirmed. “I have also worked to restore to him everything that was taken.

“I managed to speak to his wife and urge her to give him another chance, and they are settled happily together at home once more. I ensured also that his reputation against the men was settled, by spreading the story that he was set up. For that, he has been thankful.”

“Do you seek some reward from him?” Juliana asked.

“That would defy the point of my actions,” Christopher said, smiling gently and kissing the back of her hand. “I must be a good man, not merely pretend to be one until I gain some reward.”

“But when will you be ready?” Juliana asked. “I need something to look forward to, Christopher, some date on which I will be happy.”

“I do not know,” Christopher frowned, squeezing her hand tightly. “But I will endeavor to work my plan as quickly as I can. There are other things afoot that I must put right, other wrongs to be corrected.

“If the winter comes and you have not yet heard from me, I will meet you here on the first of November.”

Juliana gasped, laying her head against his shoulder. “It is so far away.”

“Endure, my love,” Christopher said, kissing the top of her head. “I know it is hard; it is hard for me. I must keep moving forward and upward, and do all that I can to repair what is broken. All I need from you is that you endure.”

“I will do my best,” Juliana promised, sniffing and dabbing at her face. “I will wait as long as I can, and hold out for the winter.”

“Good girl,” Christopher murmured, ducking his head to catch her eyes and offering her a smile. “That’s all I need to keep me going.”

They were a little more relaxed again, and Christopher thought of another thing he had to ask her.

“How did you get away?” he asked. “Did they not suspect you?”

Juliana gave him a girlishly wicked look. “It was all contrived with the help of my maid,” she said.

“I began this morning with a strop, an almighty one. My mother sent me back to my room after breakfast, as she has been wont to do since the whole business with Mary and John Woode, but she was also furious with me.”

“Was that wise?” Christopher asked doubtfully.

“Very much so,” Juliana said gaily. “She won’t wish to see me for the whole of the rest of the day. She believes this to be punishment, but really it just allows me some time to myself without being badgered on my marriage prospects.

“At any rate, I waited until they were at their next meal and snuck out when my maid brought a tray of food to me.”

“They were seated in the dining room, at the far end of the house?”

“Correct,” Juliana nodded merrily. “There was not even a chance that they might see me slipping out of the door, and back over the grounds. I may take a little more risk when I return, but the staff knows to watch for me. At least, those who are loyal to me and not to Mama.”

“Clever girl,” Christopher said, squeezing her hand with genuine pride and affection.

Parting was, as is always the case, sweet sorrow; but part they had to. The hour was already growing later, and there was double risk: that Juliana’s absence in the house would be noted and she would be sought, and that Christopher would not arrive back to the barracks before the night drew long.

He pressed the small gift he had brought her, a wooden charm fashioned by one of the soldiers in his command to the shape of a heart, into her hand. It was small, but it was something, and he hoped that it would give her strength.

“I will see you anon,” he promised. “Whether it be November, under this tree, or when I come through the doors of that house over there to claim you as my bride.”

“I can only dream of it,” Juliana murmured. “I will dream of it every night. It is all I can do.”

“That is more than enough to ask from you,” Christopher assured her. “I will think of you, and you will think of me. I hope that will bring you a smile, each night, to know that we think the same thoughts.”

“It will,” Juliana told him, her eyes brimming with tears even as she smiled. “Then farewell, Lieutenant Hardwicke. Go now, before I am weak again and cannot bear you to leave.”

“I will,” Christopher said. He gave her one last kiss upon the brow and hastened to his horse, untying the reins from the fence and climbing up into the saddle as quickly as he could.

It would not do to falter now, for if he did, he felt that he might stay under that oak tree forever.

He gave her one last look as he wheeled his mount back to face the way he had come, and what he saw there was so heart-rending, tears streaming down Juliana’s face, that all he could do was lift a hand in farewell and go.

If he had tried any other course, he would have been trapped, and unmanned, and nothing they had planned could have come to pass.

The long ride home was a fruitful one, in which he redoubled all of his plans and marshaled his thoughts to an arrangement that would bring their betrothal in the quickest possible terms.

He did not allow the week to pass before he had taken action. He rode to nearby inns where he knew he had caused a commotion when drinking with Jasper, and paid each innkeeper a fair recompense for furniture broken or ale mugs smashed.

He apologized to each one, and more besides: men he had fought with in his cups, anyone he might have insulted when he played the scoundrel, those affected by his poor behavior.

And more besides that: he took his spare time to help widows and poor women in the villages around the barracks, bringing loaves of bread bought with his own wage or mending fences or roof shingles.

He became a known sight in the parishes, helped his men to excel as soldiers, and led a good example of his own in any way that he could.

There were promises that he had made, and no one could ever say again that he was a man who broke his promises.

The weeks and months wore on, and Christopher worked on becoming the best man he could envisage: a man more honorable than Brazen, more fair than Edmund, more earnest than Samuel.

In short, he took every good quality he could think of to the furthest extreme it was possible to go, all the while with his thoughts on Juliana.

Chapter 35

The last of the summer months, hot and sticky, whiled away. Juliana could not help but pine for Christopher, holding the charm close to her chest as she slept and dreaming of his kisses.

If the nights were bliss, her only possible release, then her days were hellish.

The Duchess had not given up her wailing on the subject of Juliana’s failure to marry thus far, and would not let a single day pass without mentioning it as loudly as she possibly might.

“It is awful, having a spinster for a daughter,” the Duchess moaned at breakfast on one such example of a day. “What are we to do about balls? Should we parade her, or is it only an invitation for scorn on our name?”

The Duke rustled the pages of his paper meaningfully, not pausing to look up at her. “It is your choice, my dear,” he said vaguely.

“Both of her sisters were wed and with child by the time they were the age Juliana is now,” the Duchess said. “Myself, too. There is no hope for it; none at all.”

“She will have to make her way with it,” the Duke said, in the tone of one who is tired of discussing the same subject ad nauseum.

“Did you hear about Lord Drevon?” the Duchess asked.

“Mama, you told us last week,” Juliana tried, in an effort both to end this painful repetition and to give some remembrance that she was still in the room.

“Married!” the Duchess cried, ignoring her daughter. “Married, already, to another young lady from down that way.

“The chance is gone; even if his pride would allow him to take Juliana back. Our last hope, taken from us entirely! And we not even invited to attend the wedding!”

“It would have been rather odd if we were there, dearest,” the Duke pointed out, not unreasonably.

“It was the grandest ceremony Drevon has seen for some time,” the Duchess continued regardless.

“White doves, they had. And much dancing. All the noble lords and ladies for miles around, and any they knew from Bath or London, were all invited. Such a large party!”

Juliana and the Duke both said nothing. Juliana because she wanted nothing more than to drop into a hole in the earth than to hear this story again, and the Duke because he was simply uninterested.

Whatever was in his paper was more compelling. Juliana could not blame him, but the Duchess did not seem at all deterred.

“She will die a spinster now, mark it,” she continued. “That lord, what a party he threw for all of his guests! It was such a gay affair. No one will do that for Juliana now. She will stay here until you die, you know, haunting us like a bad penny. Whatever will we do with her, husband?”

The Duke cleared his throat and turned the page of his paper.

“Oh, confound you both,” the Duchess shrieked, getting up with such a clatter that her chair almost overturned.

“I go to the sitting room. I should not wish to be disturbed by either of you for the rest of the morning.”

When she was gone, Juliana made one last attempt to pick at her breakfast, but sighed and left it. She was getting thin under all of this admonishment; already, her favorite dress was starting to hang loose.

The Duke closed his paper and put it down, glowering at Juliana. “See,” he proclaimed. “Now your mother is upset.”

Juliana stared at him. If she had expected any sympathy at all to her plight, and the unending reminders she received of it, she was clearly wrong. The Duke blamed her just as much as her mother did.

When Juliana made no reply, the Duke harrumphed and shook his head. “Such an ungrateful child,” he said.

“I will go to my room,” Juliana said quietly, knowing better than to argue her case or even to stay where she was.

She retreated to her own domain, where she was at least not as much of a prisoner now; yet, still made to feel unwanted and unlooked for, she returned there for most of her waking hours.

It was there or the small library, where she could at least read about the life of some other character and follow her instead.

It was much nicer to drift into the realm of imagination, even when the characters were faced with danger or misery. It was not her own, and that made it sweeter; and when they overcame and triumphed at the end, she could not help but feel her own day of triumph was near.

She did not waste her hours on worry. Juliana had drawn great strength from her meeting with Christopher, and though she wished that the day would come sooner that they could be together, she trusted in his quest to make it happen.

She believed that he would come for her, and free her from these days of melancholy.

So, she sat, and endured as he had asked of her; and she waited for the day that he would arrive on her doorstep to change everything.

Though her mother had other ideas.

The dinner had not been announced to her, though when it came, it seemed clear that it must have been planned for some long time previously.

Juliana’s elder sister, Margaret, came to visit them with her husband, which called for an elaborate dinner in celebration; and Margaret’s husband just so happened to bring his friend Lord Montagu along.

Not only that, but Lord Shelville, a neighbor of theirs with an estate considerably smaller, happened to come around on the same evening – and bring with him, too, another friend.

Lord Colward was the least likely of the lot, being a man over sixty years old with silver hair and a fat girth, who clearly did not know Shelville at all as well as their introduction suggested.

It did not take a genius to understand that she was being shown off to suitors like a prize heifer, and also that her pool of such gentlemen had decreased in quality significantly since the last auction.

Juliana despaired; would the Duchess never tire of these foolish pursuits? And what if one of them were to show an interest, and she were to be forced to go along with it yet again, in the manner of John Woode?

Oh, she could not bear it!

Which is why Juliana determined even from the moment that the guests were announced to ruin the evening as much as possible, and prove once and for all that she was not of a marriageable quality.

It began even before the first course was served: when Juliana, seated between Shelville and her brother-in-law, with Colward and Montagu opposite to better admire her beauty, used the excuse of reaching for her drink to deliberately catch a piece of hair in her fingertips.

Thus dragging it forward, she quite undid the neat handiwork of her maid, and left herself a disheveled mess with efficiency.

The Duchess cleared her throat, a prim noise that nevertheless conveyed the alarm she undoubtedly felt at seeing her daughter come loose so.

Juliana was not done yet, not by a long shot.

She picked up her spoon and took a sip of her soup, even though grace had not yet been said. Then she yelped at the heat of it, allowed the liquid to pour back out of her mouth and into the bowl, and fanned her face rapidly.

“It’s scalding hot,” she said, perhaps unnecessarily.

“Juliana,” the Duke protested.

“She must be so agog at having all you fine gentleman here that she has quite forgotten herself,” the Duchess laughed uneasily. The three strangers stared at her, nodding politely but with some uncertainty in it.

Juliana allowed it to rest for a while; there was no use in overdoing it. Then they might begin to think that she was putting on a comedy routine on purpose, or that it was all a test devised to discover the worth of each gentleman.

Such things happened all the time in novels. She had to ensure they believed her act.

Shelville attempted to begin a conversation about the Indies, at which stage Juliana feigned complete ignorance of the geography of the world, and asked repeatedly where they were, and how long it would take to get there.

When Shelville gave her answers of them being near this or that country, she would ask where they were, and on.

When Colward gave a little snippet of French – a recitation of poetry which Juliana did in fact recognize, she deliberately mistranslated it.

She laughed heartily at his ‘joke’, inferred that he would not dare to say such words in polite company if they were English, and even threw in a few mispronounced words of her own to add to the illusion.

Colward and Shelville were soon talking amongst themselves, no doubt thinking that they had come to the wrong party indeed; but Montagu, who was connected more closely as a friend of a relative of hers, was apparently not yet deterred.

In fact, she began to realize with horror, he actually seemed to be warming to her the more unintelligent she made herself appear.

So, he was not to be dissuaded by a stupid girl. Perhaps he would take more offense at a rude one.

“What is it that you do, Lord Montgomery?” Juliana asked, deliberately misremembering his name.

“Montagu,” the Duchess corrected hastily, in a low voice.

The lord gave a charming smile both to Juliana and her mother. It was a smile that said: do not worry, I am not offended. Juliana hated that smile.

“I am in the fishing business,” he said. “Our company imports fresh stocks all the way from Scotland, and down the whole coast of England; in fact, you may have dined on our goods many a time, if you are partial to seafood.”

Juliana made a face. “I hate fish,” she said. “Such a smelly food. And the men who work with it always stink the same.”

She made a show of sniffing the air around him, and wrinkled her nose even further, as if she did not like what she smelled.

“Do not worry yourself with that,” Montagu laughed, though there was a strained quality to it this time. “I am on the business end only. I do not deal directly with the product.”

“Disgusting business, anyway,” Juliana went on. “I couldn’t respect a fishmonger, no, not at all.”

“Juliana!” the Duchess rushed out, her eyes fair bulging from her head. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Now that I think about fish, I believe I may be,” Juliana said.

To contradict her words, she picked up a piece of cooked chicken from the plate in the center of the table with her fingers, making sure to smear it across her chin as she stuffed it into her mouth.

“You might find some refuge in your room,” the Duchess suggested; though it was clear from her words that this was to be interpreted as an order.

Juliana stood quickly, never having been more pleased to hear those words in her life.

“I believe I shall; the company shall certainly be livelier there than this dreary lot,” she announced, before flouncing away with her head held high and her loosened hair floating about her face.

It was not half an hour before her mother appeared in her doorway, made a silhouette by candlelight and yet so obviously furious that it did not need to be seen.

“I have reached my last never with you, Juliana!” she scolded. “How could you act in such a way? You have fair terrified those gentlemen, and they must think our family no better than animals!”

“Good,” Juliana said. “It was my intention. If you think I shall be tricked into consorting with another John Woode, you are mistaken.”

“Give up this childishness,” the Duchess said. “You act as though you are the first woman in the history of time to be wed to one for whom she has no affection.”

“I am not, for I do not intend to be wed in that manner,” Juliana argued. “Mama, do you not remember how it was to fall in love? How you felt when you were happy with Father?”

The Duchess faltered and did not speak.

“How can you deny me that feeling? I love a man! I have found him already – the one soul to whom I wish to be bound, forever, before the eyes of God. How can you deny me such pleasure and passion? Such happiness?”

The Duchess smoothed the front of her dress before she raised her voice again. “Juliana, you do not understand everything about life. You are simply a girl still. Such love may vanish in the light of day.”

“Better to vanish than to never be present at all,” Juliana said bitterly.

The Duchess went to leave the room, which was strange; Juliana would have expected much more of a diatribe, a rant on every single aspect of her behavior.

But the Duchess walked away, turning her head at the threshold as if to say something, before continuing on soundlessly.

Perhaps Juliana was starting to get through to her, even if just a little bit.

Chapter 36

The Major was moving up.

The men were all talking about it, and Christopher could not help but be drawn in. His fellow Lieutenants sat in the mess hall and joked and gossiped and speculated over who would take his place.

Some said Brazen was the obvious choice. Others said it would be too scandalous, and besides, the army would rather take payment for the commission than promote from within.

But the talk continued, continued for so long that Christopher’s head hurt, and he decided to retire to his quarters for some silence before the first morning drills.

He was interrupted, however, by the arrival of the boy who took care of the post and ran errands for the officers.

“Captain Brazen would see you, sir,” he said, breathlessly.

“Thank you,” Christopher told him, allowing himself to be led over to the building where he knew he would find Captain Brazen waiting.

His thoughts were wild, but he contained them. This was some small day-to-day matter, no doubt; a task that needed doing.

There was no need to get worked up about anything. The change he had been working hard for was probably some ways off yet.

“Ah, Lieutenant Hardwicke,” Brazen said, accepting his salute as he entered the room. “At ease. I’m glad you’re here; I have a matter that I would like to discuss with you.”

Brazen was returned almost exactly to his former self, if a little thinner. He looked smart and trim, his hair and whiskers groomed perfectly, his uniform brushed and polished to the highest possible standard.

“Yes, sir,” Christopher said, relaxing his posture only slightly. He may have been told to step out of his salute, but that did not mean he had to slouch or lean against the wall.

“I am given to believe a wild rumor spreads against the men,” Brazen began, a smile spreading over his face at the same moment.

“Well, I am happy to remark that it is true. The Major is to be promoted, and as is his prerogative, he recommended a man that he felt would be fit to take his place. That man is me, and I have been confirmed my new commission.”

Christopher snapped back into a salute. “Major Brazen, sir, allow me to congratulate you.”

“The formality is not necessary,” Brazen replied, though he seemed pleased. “But this is only tangentially related to what I wish to speak to you about. Now that I am moving up, there is a Captaincy available.”

Christopher stared at him. He did not dare move or speak, just in case it would break whatever magic spell seemed now to be taking place.

Brazen paused to regard him, then continued. “I have recommended your name for it, citing your various accomplishments these last months as well as your good standing in the community,” he said.

“There has been unanimous agreement. The commission is yours, if you desire it.”

Christopher tried to speak, but found he could not. He swallowed a few times and tried again, his throat suddenly constricted tightly by something. “Sir, I – yes. I mean, thank you.”

Brazen laughed good-naturedly. “Congratulations, Captain,” he said, slapping Christopher on the side of his arm. “I have your insignia here. The position is yours.”

“Thank you,” Christopher choked out again.

“I know how much this means to you,” Brazen said. “And how you have worked for.

“Just promise me this, Captain Hardwicke: it will not stop here. I’ll have you beside me as a Major before too long, do you understand? Keep on the path you have begun.”

Christopher nodded, clutching his new insignia in his hand, too overcome for words. This was it: everything he had been working towards. It was here, now, at last.

“I have arranged for a lull in your duties,” Brazen went on. “I know you have not taken leave for many months now, as you focused on your work.

“Take this break, and spend some short time with your family. You are not expected back until the end of the week. If you will have it, I will offer you my personal coach; as recognition of your efforts for returning me to a position which has allowed my ascent, it will take you to Hardwicke Hall.”

“I will take it, and gladly so,” Christopher said. He could find no other words to express how he felt, and so he settled for saying again: “Thank you, sir.”

The journey to Hardwicke Hall beckoned, but not before he had written something on a piece of parchment taken from his scattered desk and dispatched it with a messenger to the post.

Juliana,

I am to be at Hardwicke Hall for a period of only a few days. Come at your convenience if you may find it possible.

I am made Captain – the whole tale I shall tell you in person. The Duke and Duchess are welcome if they can be convinced. If you can bring them – if you can come – I will make good my proposal.

We will face down their every objection, together. I intend to marry you before the month is out.

Yours now as much as ever,

Captain Christopher Hardwicke

He bribed the boy to see it was delivered fast, and packed a hasty trunk to travel away to his family’s home.

He spent the time in the coach with his head in the clouds, thinking over everything that had come to pass. If someone had told him two years ago that he would progress to Captain on merit, not by paying for it, he would have called them a fool.

And if they had told him he would do it for the love of a single woman, the woman he was determined to make his wife, he would have laughed in their face.

But it had been a journey; a long one, with many curves and bumps in the road, and fords to cross, and broken wheels. Once or twice he had seemed to stop entirely, but eventually, the journey had continued.

Christopher felt, truly, that he had changed the boy he had been into a man worthy of Juliana’s hand.

He had mended and repaired whatever could be fixed, and made up for the indiscretions of his youth. Whatever Jasper had coaxed him into, he had paid for, either in money or in work of some kind.

And he was known differently now – and that counted for everything.

At Hardwicke Hall, Edmund was surprised to see him come into the main hall; he approached with something like concern.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. “We had not expected you.”

“No, brother,” Christopher smirked. “Do you not notice anything different about me?”

Edmund’s eyes roamed his body, checking the length of his hair and the fact that he had still two arms and two legs. It was a comically long time before his eyes touched upon Christopher’s shoulders and noticed, at last, the change.

“Captain?” he breathed.

“Captain Hardwicke, at your service,” Christopher replied, grinning and effecting a salute.

Edmund gave a delighted yell, and shook his younger brother by the shoulders. “You rascal! When did this happen? Joanna, Amy, come and see!”

“This morning,” Christopher admitted. “I’ve been given a few days’ leave to celebrate and tell the news before I have to return.”

Joanna Hardwicke appeared at the top of the stairs, and quickly descended them.

“What is the news?” she asked, supporting herself on the banister with one arm; she was still not as strong as she had been before her illness.

“See?” Edmund said, gesturing to Christopher’s shoulders. “My brother is made Captain!”

“Oh, how very well done, Christopher!” Joanna exclaimed. “Where is Amy? I shall fetch her. She will want to see this.”

“With the new governess, I think,” Edmund said, laughing at Christopher’s raised eyebrow. “Yes, we finally gave in. Being a mother and running the household is enough, at least until Elizabeth grows a little older.”

“You gave in,” Joanna muttered, before heading off in search of the youngest of the Hardwicke siblings.

Christopher raised the other eyebrow, and Edmund made a face.

“Best not to push it,” he suggested. “Patience is away with a friend, or she would love to hear your news. I don’t think we can have her back within the week; plans were made. You know how she is about her plans.”

“Surely she will be married soon,” Christopher said.

“Yes, and this last adventure hopefully prepares her for that,” Edmund sighed.

“I wanted her to have one last summer trip, before it all; but I am not able to leave the business at present, and we cannot travel with Elizabeth.”

“There is something else,” Christopher said, hastily, now that he had Edmund alone again. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve invited someone to come and visit with us, while I am here.”

“Not that Rivers, I hope,” Edmund said, looking aghast.

“No!” Christopher said, quickly. “That man is long gone from my sphere, Edmund. If I never hear his name again, I will rejoice. He left me with many a wrong to right.”

“The news reaches us, even here, that you have been doing so,” Edmund said with approval. “Our customers and partners, even, remark upon your transformation. But what of this mystery guest? Who is it?”

Christopher took a deep breath. “You remember that I sought the hand of Lady Juliana Reffern,” he began.

“How could I forget?” Edmund grunted. “She was the source of that summer of particular poor behavior if I recall.”

“Yes, well, that was a long time ago,” Christopher tried.

“A year, hardly more,” Edmund pointed out.

“That is not the point,” Christopher said hastily. “Please, listen. Though I courted her again once her engagement to the Lord Drevon was broken off, and she was most receptive to it, her parents refused.

“They did not like my reputation, or my position; or even my low title. They told me I was not good enough, in no small terms.”

Edmund bristled, but Christopher cut him off with a raised hand.

“They had a point,” Christopher continued. “And so I have endeavored, these months, to turn things around. To correct the course of my reputation, and to begin my career in earnest.

“I can do nothing about the title I was born with, but in every other aspect, I am much improved.”

“And Lady Juliana?” Edmund asked.

“She loves me dearly, as I love her,” Christopher said. “She even rebuffed the advances of John Woode, a clergyman now and the son of Lady Ascot; I believe they have the largest estate in the county, or at least the second most so.”

“She turned down great riches,” Edmund noted.

“Indeed; and John Woode married her friend, Lady Mary, which has been the source of much anger and chagrin to the Duke and Duchess of Prighton.

“So, in short, the situation is this: Juliana is unattached, and I am unattached, and we both desire to be married very much, but her family is yet to be persuaded.”

“And it follows, then,” Edmund said. “That you have invited the lady, as well as the Duke and Duchess, to come and visit with us here.”

“Or,” Christopher began, avoiding eye contact. “If she cannot manage it – and I know this will not sit well with you – if she cannot persuade them to come, to come alone, that we may be married in secret and have it done before they can prevent it.”

Edmund gave him a warning look. “It should not come to that, Christopher. The lady’s reputation – well, she will be your wife. Do not destroy that for her.”

“I hope it will not,” Christopher said. “Sincerely, I will do all that is in my power to prevent it. But by God, Edmund. I love her so much, I would throw everything I have into the fire to be with her. And if it comes to that – well, I am prepared.”

Chapter 37

Juliana read Christopher’s letter, her heart pounding fast in her chest. She laid it on the table, and regarded her maid for a long moment, trying to find the right place for her mind to be.

“I’m going to Hardwicke Hall,” she told the girl. “Pack me a bag. One of my finest gowns, and the rest to be the most practical; and the same for any other items. All of my jewelry, too. If I cannot go accompanied, I may need it to barter or sell.”

The maid’s eyes widened, but she nodded and dipped a curtsey. “Yes, my lady,” she said and hurried to work.

Juliana steeled herself as she began the march down the stairs and into the sitting room. She kept her back straight and her head high, and as she entered, she did not flinch to see her mother sewing and her step-father perusing a stack of documents.

They barely looked up as she walked in; but she would have their attention, whether they liked it or not.

“Mama,” she announced. “We are going to Hardwicke Hall.”

The Duchess of Prighton looked up from her sewing and blinked. “I beg pardon?” she said.

“We must pack to depart immediately,” Juliana said. “There is no time to lose. We go to Hardwicke Hall.”

“And why might you embark on this sudden trip?” the Duke asked, laying down his papers. “Am I not invited?”

“We all three are invited, but we must go immediately; for the invitation is good only for a few days,” Juliana said. “We go to prove to your prejudice, once and for all, that the name Hardwicke is a fine and fair one.”

“What do we care for the name Hardwicke?” the
Duchess blustered.

“For it will be the name of your daughter,” Juliana announced.

The Duchess blinked again, and Juliana knew that she was losing the battle. Here it came: the same old speech once more.

She would begin with the unsuitability of Christopher Hardwicke, then a diatribe on the loss of both John Woode and the Lord Drevon; soon after, a long sermon on the miseries of having a daughter who would remain a spinster.

That could not happen. Not this time. Juliana opened her mouth to speak before she could be interrupted, determined that she would be heard.

“You have told me, Mama, that you do not wish to have a spinster for a daughter; is that not correct?” she asked.

“Yes,” the Duchess said, looking as though the wind had been taken out of her sails. That, she was probably thinking, was what I was just about to say.

“And you have told me, Father, that you believe it not unduly harsh to throw me into the poorhouse, given that an unmarried daughter is such a disgrace to the name of Reffern; am I not in the right?”

“Yes,” the Duke admitted, shifting in his chair to face her more fully.

“You, Mama, have also bemoaned the fact that now I am getting older – though I do not think I am very old – and now that I have refused two suitors, because you believe you will never find me a suitable husband now; do I repeat it correctly?”

“In so many words,” the Duchess allowed.

“Your objections to my intended marriage are this: that Hardwicke is not a good name, that his reputation is poor, and that he is not ranked high enough. Is this the truth?”

Both the Duke and Duchess nodded.

“Then come with me now to Hardwicke Hall,” Juliana said. “What loss could there be for you? We have no plans here, and I may be able to sway all of your concerns at once.

“Then I shall find a husband, and you do not have to search for one; I shall be provided for, and you shall not have the shame of the poorhouse, and I shall be wed, and you will not fear a spinster daughter any longer.”

“I have already said it,” the Duke announced. “No daughter of mine shall marry a Lieutenant.”

Juliana ignored the obvious – that she was not, in fact, his daughter by blood at all.

“He is made Captain,” she said. “He vowed to you that he would, and so he has. His reputation he has worked upon, cutting off all relations with the man who offended you. He had done all that you asked. What more can you expect of him to make him worthy?”

A silence met her words at first. Juliana could see from the confusion on their faces that they were trying to work out a way that they might object; a way in which she had not already met all of their concerns, and more. They could not find it.

“But, Juliana,” the Duchess said. “It is terribly short notice.”

“Yes,” the Duke agreed. “How ever are we to be packed in time?”

“My packing is underway already,” Juliana said. “And since we are to be there for only a short time, there is no need to pack extensively.”

Though I will be there for a much longer time if you refuse me, Juliana thought. I will be there until we are wed, and leave you behind forever.

There was much spluttering from both the Duke and the Duchess, who were still trying to come up with a reasonable explanation why they should not go.

“The weather is too warm to be traveling by coach,” the Duchess said.

“The weather is dull today, Mama, and likely to remain so,” Juliana correct her. “It is much cooler now than it was when we traveled back from our spring trip – which, of course, trailed right into the summer.”

She had not wished particularly to remind them of that whole saga; but perhaps it would serve as a further nudge to the fact that she had a chance to get married, which they should not turn down for no good reason.

“Er,” the Duchess started, unable to find a way to finish her thought.

Juliana sighed, and walked over to her mother, and took her by the hand. With an almighty tug, she hauled her from her seat, and began to pull her along and out of the room.

“Come, Mama,” she said. “Time to instruct your maid on what you wish packed.”

“Juliana!” the Duke of Prighton admonished her.

“You, too, Father,” Juliana said as if all were normal.

The Duke and Duchess, both so used to giving orders rather than taking them, seemed helpless under her new determination.

All of the fiery rows and bitter commentary over the past months seemed forgotten; the Duchess had dropped all of her usual skill at twisting a conversation into an argument, and was instead able only to dumbly obey.

And when she had them bundled into the carriage at last, Juliana still did not stop holding her breath until the carriage moved off; and then, at least, she felt able to relax by some small amount, since the journey was already begun.

“I really do not see,” the Duke began, once they were some way down the road, having apparently found his tongue again.

“What kind of measure might persuade us that this Lieutenant Hardwicke is the correct man for your match.”

“Captain Hardwicke,” Juliana corrected him, and that seemed to shut up any further comments he might have given on the situation.

Before long, the Duchess was instead back to complaining at the view or the comfort of the coach’s cushions, and that was the norm; and Juliana felt she could relax entirely, because they would not turn around now.

Except not entirely, because her next thought after that was that she really did still have to convince them that she ought to marry Christopher – at least, if they were to live in comfort and contentment for the rest of their lives.

The Duchess had insisted on packing several trunks and cases and bags, containing far more gowns than she could wear in a week and far more material possessions besides that Juliana could not imagine they would need.

Behind them, in a somewhat shabbier coach that had been the use of the family before they purchased this newer one, two maids and a valet road along with the family chef.

Apparently, despite not being able to protest against journeying to Hardwicke Hall, the Duchess of Prighton still had cause for concern that the food there would not be up to the standards that she expected.

This was a point that Juliana chose to ignore, in favor of there being a more pleasant journey.

The miles passed in what felt like a flash, but was also an awkward and tedious time; Juliana wanted nothing but to be there with Christopher, and have this whole thing settled.

The silence in the carriage, save for the quiet clicking of her mother’s needle against her fingernails and the drum-like sound of the thread pulling through the fabric, was not helpful.

But at last, they were drawing near, and Juliana felt her heart surge in her chest, pounding so rapidly that she wondered if she might faint.

She clutched onto the interior of the carriage, steadying herself as much as she could, and feeling a flush rush to her cheeks as a shiver went through her body.

This was it. Now that it was here, she could hardly contain herself.

“Where is their butler?” the Duchess asked querulously, sounding so much like the Baroness that for a moment Juliana had to look at her in amazement.

It was just like something that old woman would say, to find fault in something that no reasonable person would. The Hardwickes had not even been aware of when they would arrive, and the carriage was still in motion!

Sure enough, as they pulled to a stop, the horses panting and blowing ahead, an older man came out of the front of the house. Dressed in a smart livery and bearing a noble posture, he stood waiting for them to alight as another ran to the horses to take them in hand.

“My lord, and my ladies,” the butler said, making a low bow to them as they disembarked. “You are welcome to Hardwicke Hall. My master and mistress await you inside.”

“They could not come out to meet us,” the Duchess clucked.

“Nor should they,” Juliana said mildly. “The weather is cool, and they have a babe in arms. Not to mention we have arrived all of a sudden, and they probably have preparations to make.”

The Duchess said nothing, though it was clear she wanted only to find something to complain about.

“If you will follow me,” the butler said.

They trailed after him, Juliana eagerly following while the Duke and Duchess brought up the rear at a decidedly slower pace.

Inside the main hall, Edmund Hardwicke stood with his family – or what of it there was to greet them.

Juliana felt a thrill within her chest as her eyes fell upon Christopher, resplendent in his red uniform and with his hair tied back neatly; though he did not look up from the ground.

“Your Graces,” he said, greeting them both courteously. “Lady Juliana. I do not believe we have all had the pleasure of acquaintance before now, though you know my brother, Captain Hardwicke.”

“We do,” the Duchess inclined her head, somewhat graciously; though she did not try to make it sound as though she were happy about the fact. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance now.”

“I am Edmund Hardwicke, Earl of Kelt,” Edmund said, offering a bow as he made the proper introductions.

“My wife, Lady Joanna Hardwicke. And my youngest sister, Lady Amy Hardwicke. Our other siblings are away from home at present; our newest addition, baby Elizabeth, sleeps at present moment.”

“As you are aware, we are the Duke and Duchess of Prighton,” the Duke said, formalizing his own side of things. “We have brought several members of our household; two maids, my valet, and our cook.”

Edmund’s expression only faltered for a moment before he smoothly assumed the visage of the welcoming host once more.

“Please, be at home in our home,” he said. “Though your stay may be short, we will do all we can to make it comfortable.”

“I must unpack my gowns,” the Duchess said, sweeping forward as if these were the most pressing things she needed to think about – and as if it was she who would do it, not her maid. “Where is our room?”

“Allow me to escort you, my lady,” Lady Joanna said, stepping forward smoothly and offering her arm.

The Duchess hesitated for a long and painful moment, staring at that arm as if it were something that might bite her.

At last, she took it, allowing herself to be guided away; though in all her bearing and her aura it was clear she did not take kindly to being spoken to by what she took as a mere governess.

The whole while, Juliana watched Christopher closely. He did not look up to meet her eyes, which she wanted him to do desperately.

She wanted them to share that look, that gaze which would allow them to remember that all was well in the world so long as they were not apart. But he would not do it.

“Perhaps some brandy, after our long trip,” the Duke said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

Juliana was almost ashamed that he would ask for a beverage of such type at this time in the day; however, she took heart that he was her step-father only, and not a blood relation.

“We can go into my study,” Edmund offered, even if he looked a little taken aback.

“Splendid!” the Duke cried. “Men together, eh? Let the women do their fussing.”

Juliana’s spirit dropped. So, Christopher would be kept away from her after all – and she was expected to, what, watch the maid unpack her things? As though she did not trust her?

As though she cared a jot about the state of her gowns when she was this close to getting the husband she wanted?

“I will oversee the servants,” Christopher spoke hastily, looking up at last – but only at his brother. “There is much for them to do, and someone must supervise.”

“That’s what the butler is for,” the Duke muttered, but Christopher had already vanished back outside.

Juliana stood awkwardly with young Amy, the two of them left alone as the men strode away to their brandy.

What was wrong with Christopher? Why would he not look at her?

A terrible thought flashed through her head: had he changed his mind?

“I’ll show you the library,” Amy said, decisively, reaching up her small hand to grasp hold of Juliana’s.

She had no time to protest before they were away, and Juliana could only follow, glancing behind for Christopher but to no avail.

Chapter 38

Sitting down for dinner was little less than torture. Christopher adjusted his collar nervously, wondering how he was going to manage for the whole of the meal.

Everyone was dressed in their best finery; in that, at least, much of his stress was taken away.

He had but one article to wear, and that was his dress uniform, and that was exactly what was expected of him. No need to worry about this jacket or that waistcoat, or to keep up with the latest styles.

He sat opposite Juliana, between his sister and the Duke. That meant he spent the whole of the meal being exceptionally careful with his right elbow, and attempting not to use it over much just in case he were to accidentally clash with the Duke in some way.

The good part was that he need not look the Duke in the eye, but this relief was matched by another discomfort – the fact that the Duchess sat opposite her husband, and Christopher was therefore directly in her line of view.

Edmund took the head of the table, with Joanna sitting opposite him, and so their party was made up. There were two empty places, though the chairs had been taken away and the seats arranged evenly to cover for them: that of Patience and Samuel.

Christopher found himself, for perhaps the first time in his life, wishing that Patience were there to take some of the attention off him.

Everyone always loved to converse with and examine a girl of marriageable age, especially one that was beautiful and accomplished; and Christopher was proud to say that Patience was both of those.

“When did this new commission come about?” the Duke asked, as he took a bite of duck.

Christopher almost choked on his own mouthful in his haste to answer, and his panic at being singled out.

“Ah – not two days ago, Your Grace,” Christopher said. “I came straight home on leave with request of my Major. I take up my Captaincy on my return, at the end of this week.”

The Duke grunted. “Bit un-military-like, abandoning one’s post the day it is given.”

Christopher shook his head wildly. “Your Grace, I would not have left at all had the Major not requested it. He had provided for a period of sojourn with my family as a recognition of my hard work these past months.”

“Christopher stayed at the barracks all summer,” Edmund said, taking over smoothly; he could no doubt see that his brother was rattled. “We have missed his presence terribly.”

Christopher was desperately grateful for Edmund’s interruption; it gave Joanna chance to talk about the new baby and how an extra pair of hands came in useful, which led the talk in a different direction.

He would not be safe long, however, and it seemed as though the talk always came back his way far sooner than he could have wanted it.

Which, of course, was never at all; he could have been perfectly happy silent for the rest of his life, at that moment.

But always there was some probing question from the Duke or Duchess which he had to figure out an answer towards, some surface benign yet subtly dangerous ground to tread.

Without seeming as though they did it, they put him on the spot all the time with remarks on his friendship with Jasper, his reputation, and his position in the army.

That he knew he now held all the right answers made little difference to his nerves, and Christopher did not speak at all unless directly asked to do so.

Nor did he dare to look up at Juliana, in case he were scolded for mooning after her; thus, he watched his plate extremely closely, for want of anywhere else to rest his eyes.

At last, the dreaded meal was done, and it came time for the men to retire to a glass of brandy while the women moved to the sitting room.

This was another source of relief, in that the Duchess would be out of his vicinity; and another source of terror, since the Duke would be closer than ever, trapped in a room with only Edmund as a buffer.

They all stood in a showing of polite manners, and Edmund pointed out the way for the Duke to go in first. In the meantime, he waited and held back Christopher with a quiet murmur about some item on a table they passed, as a pretense to wait until the ladies had gone and they were alone together.

“I have never seen you with nerves like these,” Edmund remarked.

“I have never experienced them,” Christopher replied. “Gods, I feel as though I may lose my dinner each time they speak to me. It is more terrifying than anything I have faced in the army.”

“You have not fought a real battle yet,” Edmund said, with a twinkle of humor in his eye. It was easy for him; he was only watching the discomfort of someone else. “Christopher, relax. You are too rigid, too timid. You know that they say wild animals can smell fear?”

Christopher nodded stiffly.

“The parents of a would-be bride are the same,” he advised. “Be yourself a little more. The Christopher we know and love, not the one they think you are. You must follow your heart.”

“My heart tells me exactly what it wants,” Christopher said, chewing at his lower lip. “But it fears that it will be broken if they do not receive me right.”

Edmund put a hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Brother, know this: it is better to try, and lose, than never to try at all.”

Christopher took these words to heart, and was still digesting them when Edward gave his shoulder one last pat and headed after the Duke.

And the more he thought about and understood those words, the more he knew exactly what he had to do.

Brandy with the Duke was mercifully painless. Edmund slipped into conversation with him about his business interests, a topic which the Duke seemed only too fascinated by.

He had many questions about the ships they used, how many of their imports made it safely to harbor, what kind of yield each load of cargo had, and so on.

Christopher was able to input a little knowledge here and there, just enough to show that he was still paying attention and taking part. It was important, too, that the Duke not think him a simpleton. With his quiet manner during the meal, there was perhaps a risk of that which he needed to avert.

Before too long, the Duke wanted to retire. It had been a long and tiresome journey that morning, after all; and, as he repeated often, one which they had not looked for when they awoke.

With a thought spared for Joanna and Amy, who sat up still with the Duchess and Juliana, Christopher decided to retire as well. He needed to be fresh for the morning.

In the morning, it was a new man who strode down the stairs and greeted the whole party occupied in various manners in the sitting room. They broke their fast, and over a simple plate, Christopher made his suggestion.

“I say,” he began. “Duchess, Lady Juliana – will you join me for a walk around the grounds this morning? The light is very fine over the lake before luncheon, and I believe it is the best time to view it.”

“That sounds a pleasant excursion,” the Duchess allowed, though not without an air of suspicion.

She had her eyes narrowed in his direction as if to say that she knew he was up to something and would not be taken in.

“How delightful!” Juliana exclaimed quickly, catching Christopher’s eye over the table. “It will be one of the highlights of our stay. Mama, may I be excused to go and change my dress?”

The Duchess made an impatient gesture with her hands. “Go,” she said. “I will remain as I am.”

Juliana grinned and pushed her chair back from the table with a heavy scrape, then rushed away with one last glance at Christopher that promised excitement.

Christopher had known Juliana long enough, by now; and she had known him, too. She must have guessed his intentions, and he understood that she wanted to wear something very fine indeed for the occasion.

It was not every day, after all, that something like this happened – even for a beautiful girl like Juliana, who had had several suitors already; himself one of them in the past.

Christopher could barely contain his excitement and nerves for the rest of the breakfast, and while the rest of the party harrumphed over the morning papers or chatted amiably about the vegetables which were in season and which they liked best, he merely sat.

He could no longer eat, though he made a fair show of pushing his food around; he merely quenched his thirst, and then not so often, and pretended to listen to the ongoing conversation.

After they were all done, he agreed to meet the Duchess back in the hall in ten minutes, which was enough time to glance in a glass and check that his uniform was still immaculate and shining. He smoothed and retied his hair, and finally deemed himself ready.

“I suppose you intend to propose marriage to my daughter,” the Duke said.

Christopher turned, to see the man standing just a short distance away, eyeing him coolly.

“Your Grace,” he began and saw no use in prevaricating. “I do.”

The Duke harrumphed again, as seemed to be his usual habit.

“How is it that you are made Captain?” he asked. “Paid your way to it, I suppose? Outbid some other fellow?”

“I earned it,” Christopher said, with steely-eyed pride. He drew himself up consciously.

“Major Brazen recommended me personally to take the position. I had also the support of my former Major, who is now gone on higher still. The men under my command also, I believe, had put in some good word on my behalf.”

The Duke’s mouth popped open a little, as though he could not believe what he was hearing. “Promoted on merit?” he said.

“Indeed,” Christopher replied smartly.

“In a time of peace – it is no easy thing to do,” the Duke said.

“And yet I have done it,” Christopher replied. “Not to mention the hours I have spent with the community, and with those I may have wronged before; the penance I have paid for the mischief of my youth.”

The Duke had nothing to say now, and that much was abundantly clear. He seemed to shrink on the spot, his posture stooping, his face more uncertain.

“Well,” he said at length. “Congratulations.”

He walked away to some private retreat, and Christopher smiled at his back. Yes, he was ready; more ready now than he had ever been to make a man of himself, and an honest woman of Juliana.

The moment he looked up from the hall to see Juliana stepping down the stairs, however, he found he may not have been ready after all. The vision of her took his breath away, and the enormity of his intentions almost stole his courage.

But Juliana smiled at him and giggled a little at the awe on his face, and that relaxed him enough that he was able to offer her his arm, under her mother’s watchful supervision.

They stepped outside and admired the grounds, walking a slow path which led straight down towards the lake where trees sheltered one side of the water.

He remembered last summer, playing here with the children, Jasper in tow. Back then things had been rather different – Edmund unmarried, Joanna a governess only, and his hopes for Juliana apparently dashed.

If he had been told then that he would walk, a year later, with Juliana on his arm at the same spot, he might have laughed.

“It is a more pleasant part of the country than I had thought it,” the Duchess conceded.

“Thank you, my lady,” Christopher said, with a smile. “We do favor it. It has long been a favorite spot for my family, to picnic by the lake.”

“I do not eat outdoors,” the Duchess told him stiffly, before softening. “But I do see it.”

“Is there boating on the lake?” Juliana asked eagerly.

“There is,” Christopher told her, with a light laugh. “Edmund and I have both fallen in, more than once, as boys. We have a couple of small row boats for the purpose. I do not recommend it for you ladies, however, given the heavy weight of your skirts.”

“Pish,” Juliana said dismissively. “We wouldn’t fall in. I’ve been boating up near Windemere, two summers ago. That was a lark, was it not, Mama?”

“It was,” the Duchess said. “The Duke enjoyed it thoroughly. He was Captain for a day or so.”

“You did not enjoy it as much, my lady?” Christopher asked.

“The water was very deep,” the Duchess said. “I had constantly to grasp onto the sides for fear of overturning, and I was tugging Juliana back down into her seat all the while.”

Juliana giggled. “I did forget we were in a boat from time to time,” she admitted.

“I wanted to see better, for the Duke kept pointing out interesting things nearby or in the distance. And other boats passed, whose occupants would wave at us.”

Christopher had led them to the lakeside, and now they paused, looking into the water.

“Juliana,” he said, after a moment. “There was a question that I wanted to ask you, with your mother present, this morning on our walk.”

Juliana turned to face him, her eyes sparkling. She was ready, he could see.

Christopher grasped her gloved hands in his, holding them up between their chests.

“Juliana, I have loved you,” he began. “And I have loved you long, from afar and from close. I have loved you to distraction and beyond, and back again.”

Juliana made a small sigh of contentment, and Christopher risked a glance at the Duchess, whose face was unreadable. He knew he had to ensure this match; his very being depended upon it.

And so he continued, not for Juliana’s benefit but for that of the Duchess.

“I have mended my reputation piece by piece, act by act. I have progressed my commission to Captain, for a better standing and a better income.

“I hope to see Major, and would aim even higher, based upon the praise of my superiors. My family I am proud to say is a good one, and my name a strong, even if we have connections to Earldom merely.

“In short, in every way possible to me, I have attempted most arduously to improve my person and standing in such a way to be one who could stand by your side.

“Lady Juliana, your hand has been the singular goal of my heart, soul, and mind these past two years. I have set aside the trappings of my youth and stand before you a changed man.

“Now there is but one thing to make my transformation complete.”

“And what is that?” Juliana asked sweetly, giving him a cue though she must have known what he meant.

“I would ask your hand, Lady Juliana,” Christopher said warmly, clutching more firmly as he said it. “I would have you joined by my side, as my wife, for as long as we both shall live.”

Juliana paused only a moment, looking over to her mother.

The Duchess did not look disapproving as Christopher had feared, and even seemed to have softened as she listened to his words.

At last, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and Juliana turned back, free to make her own decision.

Chapter 39

Juliana had never heard anything more romantic in her life entire. She wanted to throw her hands around Christopher’s neck and weep with joy, and kiss him deeply, and know the feel of his arms around her body.

But there was one person yet who could ruin it all, and with reluctance, Juliana looked over her shoulder to her mother.

The Duchess did not smile, but she did not frown either; did not say yes, but neither shook her head.

Juliana was in an agony of torment, watching her, waiting to hear what her future would be.

She knew that Christopher was it, but whether they would marry happily and in comfort or cut off from her family was a question that had to be answered.

And when the Duchess nodded, Juliana’s heart swelled with a happiness the likes of which she had never known before.

“You have it,” she said, with as much warmth as she could muster.

There were tears hanging in her eyes, and Christopher seemed to blur, the light shining from his gold buttons and glancing off his handsome face.

“You have my hand, for the rest of our lives.”

And then happy tears did run down her face, and Christopher embraced her – even ignoring the presence of her chaperone – and they both were connected by a thread of joy that linked their two hearts forever.

And when they finally parted, Juliana turned to embrace her mother, as a reward for giving her the thing she longed for most at last.

This was a long moment, and a bittersweet one.

Sweet because of the joy she now felt, and the knowledge that she had been raised with love, by a mother who truly wished the best for her.

Bitter because marrying Christopher, though it would make her the happiest she had ever been, would necessarily mean a parting from her family and the way of life she had experienced until that point.

It was a farewell, as much as it was the opening of a new chapter.

But that new chapter excited her tremendously, and Juliana could not help her mind from spinning instantly into what kind of things they might need to arrange as soon as they were wed.

“We shall have to rent a home close to where you are stationed,” Juliana said. “Do you think you will remain where you are now? Or is there a chance that you may be moved elsewhere to take your Captaincy?”

“I believe I will stay,” Christopher said, with amusement.

There was color in his cheeks and his eyes were bright, still giddy as she was with the joy of the accepted proposal.

“Major Brazen has given me no indication otherwise. Though I can certainly make inquiries to be sure of it.”

“And what kind of country is it, around there?” Juliana asked. “I do hope there will be a house fitting for us. I should like to be within ample distance that you may visit easily when you are given leave, though a good home is important as well.”

“If there is none, perhaps we shall build it,” Christopher laughed. “Though I believe there is fitting accommodation around those parts.

“The other officers have wives living in various states, depending on their circumstance; I believe there are some larger residences, as well as everything in-between.”

“We shall have to source a full set of new linens,” Juliana mused. “Not to mention furnishings for the sitting room, dining room – the bedroom; we shall need a bed, of course.

“I wonder if we shall find a charming little cottage to rent, with a garden that could grow us our dinner?”

“Maybe so,” Christopher chuckled, patting her hand. “Though you shall have to employ someone who knows how to grow and harvest it for you.”

Juliana knew that he was only humoring her, but she was enjoying herself all the same, and running the household would fall to her now, so it was a very real duty she discussed.

“Yes, and that is not all,” she said. “We shall need a butler and a housekeeper, at the very minimum. A cook, too. I should like it if we can get a lady’s maid also, but we shall see how far your wages go.”

“If they are not enough, I shall speed towards my raise to Major,” Christopher said.

“Can you really do it?” Juliana asked.

“I promised you I would be a Captain, didn’t I?” Christopher asked, tapping his epaulette and the insignia there with his free hand.

“Look how I kept that pledge. I can do it, for you, my dear.”

The Duchess trailed behind them and said nothing, for once leaving them to their conversation. Juliana wondered if she was truly happy for her daughter, or rather miserable to know that she would end up marrying the man they had advised against.

It did not matter over much; the result was the same. Still, Juliana felt herself becoming afraid to turn and look at her mother, just in case she did not like what she saw on her face.

“Major would be a fine title,” she said instead, as they slowly strolled their way back to the house.

“Then I shall have it,” Christopher declared. “Major Brazen has already challenged me to raise my rank, as he believes it would be possible. I must simply apply myself. And we must hope for a war.”

“Hope for a war?” Juliana repeated, confused. “Why should we hope for something like that?”

“For two reasons, my love,” Christopher said grandly. “First, so that our sovereign nation may extend her empire, and so that our King may rule over more subjects yet.

“And second, because war is a time for a man to excel and distinguish himself. It is a time for acts of bravery and skillful strategy, and when a man has proven himself as a leader, a new commission may follow shortly.”

“I think I would worry myself silly thinking of you getting injured,” Juliana said, not wanting to even entertain the possibility of something worse.

“You need not worry for me,” Christopher said, beaming with the courage of youth, that shines strong and defies death even when the reality of it is all around.

“I shall have someone special to come home to, and so I will always return home, at all costs.”

As they came nearer the house, the Duchess drew level with them and waited for Christopher to go on ahead.

Seeming to sense an atmosphere in the air, he relinquished Juliana’s arm, much to her disappointment.

“I will go ahead and open the doors for you,” he said, walking swiftly away.

“Juliana,” the Duchess said, in a low voice that was meant for just the two of them. “You must prepare yourself.”

“I have been prepared for some time, Mama,” Juliana said, watching Christopher’s retreating back with a fond gaze.

“I think you have not,” the Duchess replied. “There are practicalities to consider. You will be alone for most of the year; a military man is seldom home until he retires. And if he should go off to war, you will fear that he may not come home at all.”

“I know those risks,” Juliana assured her. “I will take them. I would rather have him for one year only than never. I would rather see myself a widow than a spinster.”

The Duchess inclined her head slightly. “There is more grace in it,” she allowed. “But more sadness also. I do not dissuade you, daughter. The deed is done. My intent is only to brace you for what is to come.”

“I understand,” Juliana nodded, feeling that that was enough.

They stepped in through the open door held by Christopher, and were soon in the sitting room; where, to great calls of delight from Edmund and Joanna, and shrill squeals from Amy, the news was shared.

Laughing, Christopher accepted embraces from his brother and sister-in-law, and then a tearful Amy who required reassurance he would still visit from time to time.

“In fact, little one,” he said, brushing her hair back and smiling at Juliana. “You may visit us when we are settled in our new home – and when there are cousins for you to play with, all the more.”

“You are settled on this?” the Duke asked, thoughtfully, his gaze passing between both Juliana and her mother.

“It seems to be so,” the Duchess said, though there was a timidity in her tone. She did not wish to challenge her husband’s authority, after all, though he had not really been consulted.

The Duke’s mouth was a hard line; there was an awful moment when it seemed that he might raise a new objection after all, and the whole thing might be called off.

But it passed, and he bowed his head.

“I am happy for your happiness, Juliana,” he said. “You may not think it, but it pleases me to see you smile.”

“Thank you, Father,” Juliana said, doing him the honor of that title.

“We have not seen eye to eye on this,” he said; perhaps an understatement.

“But you must know that I had only your happiness and future in my mind. It is down to me to see that you are well cared and catered for in your life, and I had to be sure that you had chosen aright.”

“And do you now feel that I have?” Juliana asked.

“I do. And I give you my permission; not only this, but my blessing alongside it.”

Juliana brushed a tear from her eye, finding herself quite overcome with emotion at his admission; and she found that she did not hate him, not even a little bit, for the way he had objected for so long.

“Thank you,” she said. “And for whatever has passed between us this long time, I forgive you.”

There were tears in the Duke’s eyes then, too; so much so that he turned and looked out of the window and pretended to have seen a fox out there, that he would not have to show his face for some minutes.

There was much laughter and toasting, even though it was only the morning still; and as Juliana stood by her betrothed’s side, she knew the right choice had been made.

Chapter 40

Jasper gave up on trying to fix his boot, and flung the offending object across the other end of the stable.

“Blast it,” he muttered, getting up to retrieve it. He knew full well that he needed it, and could not replace it. That would require coin, of which he had almost none remaining.

“Are you sure you got enough money to pay me?” the stable boy asked dubiously, looking askance at the boot and the flapping tongue of the broken sole.

“I will have it, if you do your part,” Jasper said. “You know what you must do. If you fail, you’ll not be paid, and rightly so. If you succeed, there will be coin enough to pay you and get me a hundred pairs of new boots.”

“Then maybe you ain’t paying me enough,” the stable boy said, cocking his head at this new piece of information.

Jasper considered throwing his boot at the boy’s head, but thought against it.

He needed to remain calm; there was no use in getting riled up. If he distracted himself over much, he might end up missing his chance.

“One more time,” he said. “Let’s go over the plan.”

The stable boy sighed but nodded his agreement.

“When the lady comes in, you stand there and watch. I shall corner her, and make it clear that we are to be married; as we were quite in love before, I imagine she will not argue. Next is the part which is important. Whether she refuses or not, her father does not like me.”

“I wonder why,” the stable boy commented, slyly.

Jasper ignored him. “When we go back into the Inn, I will challenge the man, and he will say that I have no claim to the lady’s hand, or some other nonsense.

“That is when we should strike. You will step out of the shadows and tell, loudly, that you saw us engaged in most unbecoming behavior down in the stables – and that the lady gave herself fully to me.”

“But is you actually going to do it?” the stable boy asked, screwing up his face.

Jasper smirked. “We may. It depends upon the lady.”

The stable boy considered this, and seemed to like the idea.

“After we are wed, I will send you your reward for your part in it,” Jasper promised.

“And I shall ask a small stipend from the lady’s father to pay my bill, at which time you shall have some of it in advance.”

The stable boy nodded, happily. “Alright, mister. I got it.”

Jasper returned to his prior occupation of fiddling with his broken boot, and waiting.

His mind did not stay still. He thought on what he would do once he was a lord, and had some power again.

Devious ideas swam to the surface: after he had been provided both title and heir, the lady would be of no further use to him.

He would have a chance, perhaps, to find a more suitable bride – some widowed lady with a husband’s lands to share, whose new husband might take precedence over her natural sons. Newly widowed, perhaps. Who was to say?

And through it all, of course, ran his vow: his curse, as he thought of it, upon the heads of all who called themselves Hardwicke.

The useless fop of a brother and his commoner wife; the Lady Juliana, and perhaps her babes, if she would have them; the cripple boy away at school; the two sisters, one almost his once, the other young still.

He would take them down, one by one, and rain misery on them until their lives were thick with it.

And Christopher. Christopher, he would leave until the last. Jasper would wait his time, and let him watch all of the suffering first.

Only when his task was almost done would he strike the man who had lowered him to this position.

Sleeping in a stable with worn-out boots and only a few coppers to his name: no, Jasper Rivers was a better man than this.

And he would raise himself up again, no matter how much deception it took, or how many lives he would be required to step upon in the process.

Epilogue

It was his wedding day, and he was exceedingly nervous.

Christopher stood at the head of the village church that was local to Hardwicke Hall, waiting for his bride.

It had been a long and exceedingly tedious several months since their engagement, and at last, getting a convenient moment to take leave for a short while, arrangements had been made to put the ceremony on.

“Do relax, dear brother,” Edmund said.

He was clearly having great joy in his role of Best Man, and did not even attempt to hide it. He was no doubt remembering how cruelly wicked Christopher had been at jesting on his own wedding day, and intended now to pay it back in full.

“I am relaxed,” Christopher muttered, a barefaced lie that neither of them believed.

Juliana entered then, and his breath was taken away, and he could not summon it to reply to whatever his brother said next; for he did not even hear it.

Juliana wore a silver gown that ran to the floor, decorated with fine white lace and pink flowers picked out in embroidery thread.

The waist and sleeves were exceptionally flattering, and on her head, she wore a crown of fresh-picked pink flowers that seemed to make those on her gown come alive.

Best of all was the smile on her face as she walked with her family behind, including two cousins selected as bridesmaids whose beauty could never match her own.

She walked to Christopher and stood beside him, on his right side; and with a twinkle in her eye, she said: “Good morning, Captain Hardwicke.”

He could only stare at her in awestruck silence, wondering what great act he had committed which benefitted him with being deserving of this woman. For there must have been something; what it was, he could not say.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest began. “We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony.

“Which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church;

“which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men.

“And therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding;

“but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained.”

The priest spoke on, and Christopher drifted out of paying attention as he looked down at Juliana again.

She shared his gaze and smiled sweetly, and Christopher felt how his heart was fit to burst simply with her gaze.

His attention snapped sharply back to the priest, as the man continued with a direct address to him and his bride.

“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you knows any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.

“For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.”

There was an awkward pause, and one that felt overly long; some members of their respective families, sitting across the pews, gave a nervous titter.

That grew into a full laugh when Christopher turned his head and looked around, flashing them a smile at his gladness that no one appeared ready to speak.

The priest nodded at last. “Christopher Hardwicke. Wilt thou have this Woman to be thy wedded Wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?

“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Christopher cleared his throat, and nodded, trying not to give in to the emotions which threatened to constrict and strangle his very voice. “I will.”

“Juliana Reffern,” the priest continued. “Wilt thou have this Man to be thy wedded Husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?

“Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Christopher looked over at her, to see her answer clearly and without hesitation: “I will.”

This part of the ceremony hence being finished, the priest nodded decisively and looked up to the congregation as a whole.

“Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?” he asked.

The Duke of Prighton stepped forward, not without some lingering reluctance, which Christopher chose to ignore. He took Juliana’s hand and passed it to the priest; this being done, he stepped back.

Their minister then plucked Christopher’s right hand from his side and laid it over Juliana’s.

“Repeat after me,” he said, and then Christopher did.

“I, Christopher Hardwicke, take thee, Juliana Reffern, to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Their hands dropped apart; but not long passed before Juliana was taking his hand in her own, to repeat her part of the words.

“I, Juliana Reffern, take thee, Christopher Hardwicke, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The minister indicated that they could loosen their hands, and Christopher remembered what he was to do next without prompting. For this he was uncommon proud of himself, though it was a small thing.

He took out the gold ring from his inner pocket and laid it down upon the copy of the Bible which the priest held open in his hands.

The man then took it and gave it back to him, so that Christopher could place it gently on the ring finger of Juliana’s left hand, and slide it down into place.

Holding it still, Christopher repeated the last of the lines the priest required of him:

“With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Juliana smiled at him, tears swimming in her eyes just as they did in his; tears of happiness, for it was almost over, and they were about to begin the rest of their lives just as they had imagined for so long.

They kneeled together, at the minister’s feet, while he led the whole congregation in prayer.

“Let us pray.

“O eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; Send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this Man and this Woman, whom we bless in thy Name;

“that, as Isaac and Rebecca lived faithfully together, so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, (whereof this Ring given and received is a token and pledge,) and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The church full of people echoed it in a murmur: “Amen.”

The minister again took each of their right hands and joined them together once more.

“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” he said, before raising his voice to those assembled.

“Forasmuch as Christopher and Juliana have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands;

“I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

“God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with His favor look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen.”

There were psalms to follow, and more prayers; prayers for the good grace of God, and for a fruitful childbearing to come from their marriage.

There were prayers that nothing should come between them, and that they should have richness and blessings.

The minister followed all with a sermon on how man and wife might serve and love one another, all of which Christopher had heard before.

All of which he scarcely heard now, for his blood sang in his ears and it was as though a choir of angels themselves had come to wish them well in their wedded life.

And before he really knew it, they were laughing in one another’s arms, walking out of the church with all of their friends and family behind them, to embark on what would be the greatest adventure of their lives.

The Extended Epilogue

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A Message from Abby

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed every page and I would love to hear your thoughts whether it be a review online or you contact me via my website. I am eternally grateful for you and none of this would be possible without our shared love of romance.

I pray that someday I will get to meet each of you and thank you in person, but in the meantime, all I can do is tell you how amazing you are.

As I prepare my next love story for you, keep believing in your dreams and know that mine would not be possible without you.

With Love,

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Abby Ayles was born in the northern city of Manchester, England, but currently lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband and their three cats. She holds a Master’s degree in History and Arts and worked as a history teacher in middle school.

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When she has time to herself, Abby enjoys going to the theatre, reading and watching documentaries about Regency and Victorian England.

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The Lady in the Gilded Cage - Preview

Chapter 1

A great expanse of mahogany desk stretched between young Cecilia Prescott and the solicitor rifling through her father’s old papers. As he looked up and met her gaze, she felt an even greater distance there in his eyes.

He was trying to tell her and her mother something, and it was something he didn’t think they’d appreciate.

“Pardon me, Mr. Combs,” said Cecilia, “but I am afraid I’ve missed your meaning. Are you saying my father was in some manner of financial trouble?”

The portly solicitor cleared his throat and fumbled awkwardly with the papers yet again.

“The worst manner, I’m afraid.”

Beside her, Cecilia heard her mother gasp. The Dowager Viscountess of Holden, Lady Sophia Prescott, had grown accustomed to life without her late husband over the last arduous year, but Cecilia knew the loss of her current comforts would be a devastating blow.

Cecilia felt again the sharp pain of her father’s loss. He’d never been particularly affectionate, but he’d provided safety and oversight. She felt keenly deprived of those in his absence.

“Last year you said he’d left his fortune to me, his only daughter.”

“That’s true,” Mr. Combs cleared his throat. “A truly unusual occurrence, as I’ve already mentioned.”

“He had no male heir,” Lady Holden interjected. “And he did specify my daughter in his will.”

Cecilia knew what he meant by unusual, but found herself again frustrated by the morays of society that found her promotion as her father’s heir to be so remarkable.

In truth, she would have cared little for the money if it hadn’t been for her mother, who fretted often about the possible loss of status after her husband’s passing.

“I’ve no argument on that point, Lady Holden,” the solicitor seemed to have at last gained the confidence necessary to speak, and placed his hands palms down on the top of the desk.

“Unfortunately, the Viscount’s debts proved more serious than I imagined. It seems he engaged in a bit of unrecommended speculation, and the company in question has gone under.”

“How much?” Lady Holden asked.

“How much what?”

“How much was wagered on this doomed company?” Cecilia filled in for her mother, whose face was growing alarmingly pale.

“All.”

Cecilia felt an icy panic growing inside her.

She thought of the Carlsons, a well-respected family in Chesire with whom she’d grown up. She’d seen the Carlson boys at dances, and chattered away with the two youngest daughters. Their father had seemed to be very successful, throwing lavish parties and hosting grand hunts during the season.

Then, quite suddenly, they were out of society. Rumors spread quickly in London and the surrounding area that the grand Carlsons were penniless, surviving in a small cottage after they lost house and estate in a reckless gamble.

Cecilia realized with horror that this was her situation, and that of her mother. Vaguely, she refocused on the solicitor, who was explaining the breadth of their misfortune.

“There is no more to draw on, and I’ve drained the last of your account to repay the Viscount’s innumerable debts.”

“Are the debts settled then?” Cecilia asked.

Mr. Combs ventured a coarse laugh, and then stopped when he saw the two women staring at him with earnest eyes.

“No, I’m afraid not. His debts were many, and he did not leave enough to settle them aright.”

“We are penniless.” Lady Holden said the words softly, and they hung unrefuted in the cold air of the office. “We will lose everything.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Cecilia asked the solicitor as calmly as she could manage.

“It is my job to give you the facts, not a remedy,” Mr. Combs said. “But if I may venture an opinion, your daughter is not an unseemly girl. You still have a title. Perhaps some kind of worthy union could solve the issue on the table.”

“Marriage?”

“Yes. Surely you could find a man of title and wealth who could offer you reprieve from your current troubles.”

Cecilia winced inwardly. Though marriage did seem the most obvious way out of such financial ruin, the solicitor’s immediate recommendation struck her as both unoriginal and frightening.

The Dowager Viscountess had been offering hints for some time now about the marriageability of her only daughter, pushing Cecilia into the arms of wealthy and titled gentlemen. Cecilia had always been able to avoid imminent proposals by pleading her youth or the possibility of a better match.

Now, she knew such arguments would hold no water with her mother. They were poor, and poor women should not expect better matches.

For her part, Lady Holden’s eyes lit with hope at the solicitor’s suggestion, and that light followed the two women long after they’d left Mr. Combs behind in his heavily-curtained office.

***

“You look lovely tonight, my dear,” Lady Holden said, giving her daughter a good look before the two settled themselves in the carriage for the short drive over to the Sinclairs’ manor.

Cecilia Prescott was still a blushing nineteen years of age, and, though petite, cut a striking figure at local events.

For years, her rich brown curls and piercing grey eyes had been sought after by the lads of the county, and more recently by the respectable sons of titled aristocrats and landed gentry.

She was slim, and even in the mute grey dress that she wore in respect for her father’s passing, she looked like a vision.

“Thank you, Mama.”

She settled her cloak about her shoulders and rested her hand on the door sash with a sigh.

“It feels odd to be travelling to the Sinclairs’ ball as though we are the equals of every person in the ball room.”

“We are more than their equal,” Lady Holden sniffed in response. “You are a lady, and I am the Dowager Viscountess of Holden. They are lucky to have such people in attendance.”

She fiddled with the lace at her throat. “And if you’re speaking about our earlier conversation with Mr. Combs, I hardly think skipping the first ball of the season a good way to keep the news of our precarious financial situation from prying ears.”

“We can’t keep it quiet forever, Mama.”

“We can keep it quiet long enough. If anyone finds out, it will ruin your prospects of marriage, my dear. Our only chance now is for you to find a reputable, titled man with a bit of wealth on the side.”

Cecilia smiled in outward allowance, but thought back on the line of suitors she’d seen of late.

She hadn’t minded the sweet boy from Manchester, although he’d been rather simple and not an elegant conversation partner.

Then there was the baron who’d found himself with quite a few gambling debts and was willing to settle them all with an illustrious marriage to a titled lady such as herself.

Aside from the obvious truth that such an alliance in retrospect would have left both penniless, Cecilia had found the baron both preposterous and ignorant. She was glad to be rid of him.

More recently, her mama had been pressing her to meet with an untitled man of vast wealth who owned a collection of periodicals in London.

The lack of title wasn’t as much of an insult to Cecilia as the man’s undeviating view that women were only good for needlepoint and the planning of grand parties.

“I understand my duty,” she said with a sigh. “But even if I were to find such an elusive gentleman, surely he would be unwilling to pursue an attachment once he learned the truth of our financial situation.”

“That is where love comes in,” Lady Holden said, as calmly as if she were talking of the taking of tea at midday.

“You must do your best to be winning and amiable, Cecilia. Try to remember all that we taught you, and what your governess encouraged you to emulate from Fordyce’s. That is the sort of thing that entices a man to deep affection.”

“’Nature appears to have formed the faculties of your sex, for the most part, with less vigor than those of ours,’” Cecilia began quietly quoting the sermons in question, her gaze still fixed outside the door sash.

“’Observing the same distinction here as in the more delicate frames of your bodies.’”

She turned to her mother with a faint smile.

“It would seem Fordyce has not the faith in feminine mental faculties to — how did you put it? — ‘entice a man to deep affection.’”

“You’re taking him out of context, I’m sure.” Lady Holden folded her gloved hands with quiet dignity. “And you can’t deny that women are the weaker sex, in need of a firm hand and a strong provider.”

Cecilia nodded absentmindedly.

In truth, she found Fordyce and all sermonizing men like him to be adding little to the world of literature and thought.

He was trying desperately to hold the rising stars of womanhood in their proper place in the parlor, and she found his argument both unappealing and unoriginal.

For herself, she appreciated the helpful advice of lesser known etiquette books, and even these she preferred to set aside in favor of modern poets and the epics of old.

She drew her mind back to the conversation in the carriage, and found her mother still speaking about her earlier comment.

“It’s just that kind of opinionated stubbornness that will lose you the affections of the gentlemen in attendance tonight. The death of your father has given us the perfect opportunity to show you’ve softened in the last year.”

“Yes, Mama,” Cecilia didn’t protest.

“If you can get a man to fall in love with you, he will not mind assuming your father’s debts.”

“I think you have far too high an opinion of the virtues of the male sex,” Cecilia said wryly.

“On the contrary, I find their hearts fickle and easily swayed by a pretty face.”

A pretty face. It was a familiar phrase for Cecilia. She had never, in all the long line of men at her door, found a single one who’d been drawn to aught but her title and the luminosity of her eyes.

Once, when she was but a girl of sixteen, she’d formed a strong connection with the son of an untitled but wealthy member of the landed gentry.

Young Mr. Phillip Larson had everything to recommend himself. He was handsome and clever and well-read. When he first began to pursue Cecilia, she’d been delighted at the prospect of long conversations and witty banter.

It soon became apparent that while the gentleman treasured her title and the loveliness of her face, he did not want her to weigh in on matters of the mind or society.

It felt remarkable at times, that ladies were encouraged to broaden their minds with reading and conversation, when their ultimate end was to pretend simpering idiocy and vanity for the sake of a wealthy husband’s ego.

“I need to hear you say it, Cecilia.”

“What, Mama? Pardon me, my mind was elsewhere.”

“As it often is. I need to hear you say that you are with me on this. Tonight is an excellent opportunity to show me you are serious about doing your part to uphold our family’s legacy.”

“Mama, I will do what is necessary,” Cecilia said, her heart heavy.

The drive leading up to the Sinclairs’ manor was lined with bobbing lanterns. Even before the carriage came to a halt, Cecilia could hear the music and tinkling laughter of guests over the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves.

She stayed back a moment whilst her mother exited the carriage in a cloud of amber silk. Then she herself stepped out onto the folding step, resting a moment there as the footman steadied Lady Holden.

It was at that moment of pause that Cecilia glanced up and caught a glimpse of a man riding along the lane crosswise to the party.

She only saw him for a moment, and then caught a few glimpses of his form through windows in the ivy hedge. He seemed so tall and free.

Free… That was the real draw, she realized, stepping down onto the pebbled path with the assistance of the now unengaged footman.

If only someone like that would ride into all this charade and take her away to a place where all her father’s debts and her mother’s expectations couldn’t reach her.

“Lady Holden!” she heard above her, and looked up in time to see Lady Sinclair in the greeting line at the door. Her voice came faintly over the sound of the revelers. “It’s so good to see you, and out of mourning as well.”

“Well, it is a new season, though I try to remain decorous of course,” Lady Holden said as they approached.

“Is Miss Prescott here?”

“Of course, I’m chaperoning her revels this evening. May I ask, who is in attendance?”

“The Duke of Belshire’s son is here, and a few noteworthy Mormonts, I believe. You should see the train on Lady Dowding’s dress, it’s woven with imported silk, I’m told.”

“Isn’t all silk imported these days?”

“Well, we are certainly delighted to have you in attendance, my lady.”

Cecilia walked up the stairs, steeling herself for the lights and laughter within.

The idea of a handsome prince was a little fanciful, even for her. She thought how her father would have teased her.

“It’s all those books you read,” he had always said when he was alive. “You’ve got worlds of nonsense at home in your head.”

Reality is nothing like fantasy, she thought, pushing the man on the horse and the freedom he symbolized from her mind.

She took a breath, and went to join her mother on the stairs.

Chapter 2

Robert Fanning lowered his quill to the paper and paused for a moment before drawing a thin line and shifting the page across the desk to Mrs. Norris, who sat shivering on the opposite side.

“Do you require a cloak, Madame?” he asked kindly.

She shook her head, and he went on to point out the line at the base of the page.

“If you will sign your name here, Mrs. Norris, we will take your petition before the court. I looked at your documents, and it seems you have a legitimate claim that your employer has withheld proper wages.”

The cook was elderly, and frail. She’d come in with hardly any hope left, on the chance that the rumors about Fanning & Parnum helping the destitute were true.

“But what about peers of the realm? The Lord Bartnam is well-connected.” Her hands shook on the wool of her shawl. “He told me he would drag me into ruin if I told of his misdeeds.”

Robert felt a twinge of anger at the other man’s blatant misuse of his power.

“It will be necessary to connect you with a barrister of good social standing in the court, but I’ve a few who owe me a favor. He won’t appear in the Court of Chancery, but I’ve good hope we can negotiate a settlement outside the courtroom.”

“You’ve nothing to bargain with.”

“I have his good standing in society and the threat of the community getting wind of his mismanagement. For a man of his vanity, it should be enough.”

Mrs. Norris looked up with hope in her weary eyes.

“You think I will get my wages?”

“I think I can get you what you’re owed, and more. You have kept diligent documentation, Mrs. Norris.”

Robert came out from around the desk and helped his client to her feet. “I’d like to see you back in a week to finalize the case. Would you like me to send the carriage?”

She shook her head.

“I can get a ride with the grocer again.”

“Send notice if that changes and we’d be happy to help.”

He helped her down the stairs, one at a time, and then into the carriage, tucking a fur blanket around her knees.

“Thank you, Lord Lothmire,” she said. “Your kindness is much appreciated.”

“You have nothing more to worry about under my care,” he said gently, stepping away from the carriage and closing the door.

When he climbed the stairs back into the office, he met his partner, Roger Parnum, on the stairs.

“You get the cook settled?”

“Mrs. Norris’ case is something we can handle, I think.”

The older man frowned.

“Robert, you know she won’t be able to give us a high percentage of the profits. Just because you’re set for the future doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t need to earn our daily bread.”

Robert knew he was referring to the recent death of Charles Fanning, Robert’s older brother. The unfortunate sickness that stole Charles had inadvertently left Robert with the title of Earl of Lothmire, and an impressive sum of money.

“Cases like this win the trust of the people, and give us a good position in court,” Robert said. “It’s good for business, and you can’t tell me your business hasn’t been prospering since you added ‘Fanning’ to the awning.”

“Don’t let your ego be too significant, my dear Earl,” Roger said, feigning insult. “Why a wealthy man such as yourself would ever put himself through solicitors’ studies is beyond me.”

Robert smiled, following Roger into the top floor of the office and gathering the papers he’d left strewn on the desk.

“I wasn’t planning to be an heir.”

“That’s right,” his partner said, seating himself in one of the low Sheraton chairs and pulling out his pipe. “Just a hardworking lad who stumbled upon a fortune.”

Robert fell quiet. It was a familiar avenue of jest with his partner ever since Charles’ death, and at times it grated on him.

He loved the law, and even with his new title and money he knew he would keep advising.

Roger Farnum knew it as well, and despite his bluster and feigned jealousy, Robert new the other man was glad for his aid.

“What’s this?” he said, picking up a small missive stamped with the Duke of Belshire’s seal. It was shuffled beneath some of Mrs. Norris’ papers.

“Oh, your man brought that in earlier. Said it was important — urgent, perhaps — but we had so much to do with the Norris case and then the indictment hearing before that.”

Robert reached for a letter opener while his friend rambled on.

“Really, Robert. I ask you to look over case files and you are lackadaisical at best. Here you have a letter from this family friend—”

“—Godfather—”

“—and you’re on the edge of your seat.”

“There has been some unpleasant business,” Robert mused out loud, scanning the letter as he went.

It read that the Duke’s son, a man Robert had known his whole life by the name of Gerard Mormont, Marquess of Malbrook, had fallen into a bit of trouble. It did not specify what kind.

Robert bristled as he read. Gerard had been a thorn in his side since the two were boys.

The Duke had taken to Robert from the start, holding his industrious nature up in contrast to Gerard’s laziness many a time. The Duke went out of his way to invite Robert on trips and teach him the necessary skills to succeed in the world of business, and that clearly infuriated Gerard.

Robert remembered one time when the boys were but eleven and twelve years of age, respectively, when Gerard had been so filled with jealousy after Robert was invited to join a hunting trip, that he loosed a shot into the Duke’s prime hound and ever afterward blamed Robert for the offense.

Robert, unwilling to further fuel the fires of jealousy, had kept silent and accepted his punishment bravely.

“Gerard will grow wise with time,” the Duke always said.

But luxury and title had worked a toxic effect on the young man, and as each year passed, he grew more spoiled and reckless.

The Duke’s hand in this most recent missive was heavy with the pressure of anxiety, and his words were unmistakably urgent.

“I must be away at once.”

“My friend, surely this is not a fortuitous time? Rest the night and leave in the morning.”

“No, they are in London at their townhouse. I will go directly.”

“What could be the matter?”

Robert had ridden to the Marquess’ aid before, for a financial squabble that had threatened the family with unpleasant gossip. He suspected it would be something similar, but didn’t trust his partner with the details.

“It’s a private matter, I’m afraid. You will of course press no further, Mr. Parnum?”

“Of course.”

The other man rang the bell, waving his hand dismissively at the doorman who appeared.

“Please bring Lord Lothmire’s coat and hat, and bring round his horse. He has to leave at once on urgent business.”

***

As he neared the Belshire townhouse, Robert thought foremost of the Duke.

He felt a great debt to his godfather. Even before Charles’s death, the old man had been there for both boys, raising them like his very own sons.

He’d provided them references and opportunities to train and grow in their talents, and after Charles’s death, the Duke had been there to help Robert shoulder the burden of becoming a new Earl, and all that entailed.

A short distance from the townhouse, he passed the stately Sinclairs’ manor, fully alight with music and laughter and twinkling lights.

He’d heard of the dance, but hadn’t any desire to attend. It was one of the many fripperies of the opening of the season, and he’d had his fill of simpering maids and insistent parents.

Still, he glanced in at the gate as he rode by… and there, in a small pool of lantern light, he caught sight of a brown-haired girl dressed in a slip of silver-grey cloth. Her foot was descending from the carriage - her slender arms were white against the dark vehicle.

She looked like the North Star in a sea of meaningless constellations.

For a moment, he thought about turning his horse down that pathway and arriving, unsuitably attired as he was, at that ball he’d so despised moments before. Then, he remembered the Duke, his work, and his own new title.

Life was too complicated for North Stars at present. He rode on.

He left his horse at the foot of the townhouse stairs and bid the boy there take it back to the stables. He entered the house with a heavy heart.

“Lord Lothmire, what a surprise.” The butler let him in, and showed him to the library where the Duke was sitting by the fire, his back to the door.

“Your Grace,” Robert said, his voice low.

“You came.” The Duke of Belshire rose quickly, his once-handsome face now racked with worry. “I wasn’t sure you could get away.”

“Anything for you.”

“You see, there seems to be a bit of… trouble,” the Duke went straight to the point, “and I had hoped you’d be able to bring it to a swift and silent end.”

“What is the matter?”

The Duke cast a glance at the two footmen positioned against the wall. He lowered his voice even further.

“It is a peculiar thing, but I’m afraid it needs to be handled rather discreetly. Would you mind…?”

He motioned to a slip of paper and a quill lying nearby.

Robert nodded agreement, and the older man moved past him and scribbled a few words on the slip of paper. He turned, holding it fast in his fingers.

“It is about Gerard. I don’t want you to think less of him,” he seemed reluctant to part with the note in his hand.

Robert thought it would be hard, after everything he’d experienced at the hands of Gerard as a boy, and later as a young man, to think less of Gerard than he already did.

“Your Grace, I only wish to help. It is not for me to have an opinion one way or the other.”

This at last put the Duke’s mind at ease, and he extended the paper with trembling fingers.

Robert took it and read it with an increasingly sinking heart.

“I see.”

“The matter must be settled fast. You see there is a timeline on the thing.”

Robert tucked the note into his pocket.

“I will arrange it on the morrow if it is at all possible.”

The Duke sank bank into the chair as though he’d recently survived a great trial. He waved indistinctly at the farthest footman, and the man brought him two glasses of sherry. The Duke offered one to Robert, and he took it.

“There’s only one thing for it,” the old man said, drinking deeply and staring into the flames. “We have to get him into a respectable marriage.”

“Marriage may not solve this particular problem,” Robert said quietly.

“It has to. I demanded it of him.”

“What did he say?”

“He is agreeable enough. He does not think he has done any wrong.”

The old man glanced at the drink in Robert’s hand. “He’s at the Sinclairs’ now. I told him he had to find a wife this season, and his solution was to go to the nearest ball in search of her.”

“It’s not a terrible plan.”

“He needs to find a respectable lady.” The man looked up with sudden eagerness. “Could you go and make sure he settles on a woman of good standing?”

“Tonight? I would not be expected.”

“You are the Earl of Lothmire. You are always expected.”

“The Marquess has never been much moved by my opinion, Your Grace.” Robert set the sherry aside, bowing. “But if it would put your mind at ease...”

“It would indeed.”

Robert took his leave, his thoughts weighted with sober review.

Do you want to find out how the story continues?

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The Mysteries of a Lady’s Heart – Preview

Book 1 – Portrait of Love

Chapter 1

The Duke of Norrend, Arthur Cain Cartwright, moved his newspaper down just enough to look over it at his wife and the girls. He caught the eye of his eldest daughter, Lady Annabelle. She looked back, somewhat amused by the situation.

The Duchess Louise Ann Cartwright was red in the face but silent. She seemed to be having a staring contest with one of the twin sisters she was mentoring. The indignant girl stared back without fear.

“Lady Joanna, you cannot go against the rules simply because you want to. It is not done that way.”

“I can,” Lady Joanna replied, shaking her blond hair back and forth. “I like my hair down and I want to keep it that way.”

“A lady does not wear her hair down around her shoulders.”

Lady Joanna gave her a cold look. “I am not going to put my hair up, my lady. You are not my mother. I do not have to do what you say.”

“I am afraid you do, young lady. You were entrusted into my care by your mother and your father and I will do my best to see that you are raised properly. You will not go to the ball if you do not put your hair up in a style similar to your sister’s.”

Lady Joanna’s frown deepened. “I do not want to look like her!” she cried.

“You do not look like her,” the Duchess of Norrend’s voice was filled with confusion and exasperation. “You do not look alike. I was merely suggesting that you wear a similar style. I did not say the exact same style. Sometimes, young lady, I am beside myself with worry for you. Your future does not look prosperous to me.”

Lady Annabelle watched the exchange between her mother and Lady Joanna, standing to the side with Lady Julia, her best friend and Lady Joanna’s fraternal twin. Lady Annabelle and Lady Julia had been friends since they were in nappies. Their parents had always been good friends. The Lord and Lady Rickman were fine people. When Lady Julia and Lady Joanna were twelve years old, six years previous, their brother Luke, who was only seven, fell into a pond and drowned. Unable to get over the loss of her precious only son, Lady Rickman isolated herself from society, withdrawing into a state of near despair. She asked her closest friend, Louise Cartwright, to care for her two daughters and raise them as her own until her depression broke. So Lady Julia and Lady Joanna lived with their mother and father but did all social events the ton had to offer with the Cartwrights and under the close, watchful eye of the Duchess.

“That is not fair,” Lady Joanna said. Lady Annabelle thought for an eighteen-year-old young woman, Lady Joanna did not act like she had the sense God gave her. After six years of this, she should know that the Duchess always got her way. She glanced over at Lady Julia as Lady Joanna and her mother continued bickering. She was tired of it and only wanted to sit down. She caught her father’s eye and begged him with her mind to beckon to her. She would gladly go and sit with him and chat. Her father was a personable man. He was strong, intelligent, quiet, and reserved. Very unlike his excitable wife, who was outspoken and sometimes loud.

He was looking over at them and caught her eye. He did not beckon to her. He merely shook his head and lifted his paper. Lady Annabelle knew a disappointed look had to have covered her face. She sighed.

“Mother, I do not wish to stand here any longer,” she said. “I know Lady Julia and I have things to do before the ball tonight and I do not wish to waste any more of my time. I know between the three of us girls, and Lady Cecilia, too, we can find a hairstyle that will both be appropriate and approved by you and Lady Joanna.”

Louise looked at her daughter, surprised. Lady Annabelle only spoke out when she was saying something logical. She nodded curtly, a frown still plastered on her once-beautiful face. “Yes. You three go upstairs. Lady Annabelle, take your sister with you. She needs to prepare, even if she has not yet reached the age of courtship.”

“Of course, Mother,” Lady Annabelle replied, curtsying slightly. “I planned to take her with us.” It was only a little lie. She thought her mother would tell her to take Lady Cecilia with them but did not bring it up, just in case her mother did not say it.

Lady Annabelle nodded at Lady Cecilia, who smiled as she walked to them from across the room. Lady Annabelle and Lady Julia went through the parlor door and into the foyer. The three older girls went through the door and to the curving stairwell to go upstairs.

Lady Joanna pulled away from the other two quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She picked up her skirts and was at the top long before her sister and Lady Annabelle. Lady Julia shook her head and murmured to her friend.

“I tell you, Lady Annabelle, she is getting worse every year. Though I try so hard to teach her and show her.”

“You two are nothing alike,” Lady Annabelle said confidently. “Nothing.”

“I know. It is hard to believe we are sisters, let alone twins.”

“I do not know where she gets such a spark!” Lady Cecilia exclaimed. “I would never speak to Mother the way she does. Never, ever.”

“She is only speaking her mind,” Lady Julia said. “But sometimes I do wish she would say things a little more politely.”

“Perhaps time will help,” Lady Annabelle suggested.

“One can only hope,” Lady Cecilia said, shaking her pretty head. Her hair was piled up on her head, hanging in beautiful ringlets around her pale cheeks. She had no face paint on yet but planned to add a little rouge and some color to her lips before the ball. She was only sixteen and not allowed to do some of the things her eighteen-year-old sister could do. That was not one of the things her mother insisted on, so she took advantage of it to give herself some color. She detested the gown she would be wearing that night. It was a dull brown color, almost a tan with dull dark yellow soft fabric around the collar, wrists, and hem of the skirt. It was pretty but the color took away any vibrancy she could have hoped to achieve. She wanted to wear something bright pink, blue, green, red, something that would make her sparkle.

Her hair was a pale color of yellow, but it was pretty. She had no eyebrows to speak of and her eyelashes could not be seen, though they were quite long. The only thing she could use was rouge and lipstick. She did not need face powder with smooth skin like hers.

Lady Annabelle looked similar to her sister but her features were more prominent. Her dark blond hair was double braided and pulled to the back. She was wearing a pale red dress with gold trimmings around the collar, wrists, and hem. There was a small line of pearls going down the front of it, just between her breasts. It made her look beautiful and she knew it. She had the perfect necklace to go with it, a row of pearls her father had bought her for her last birthday. They were the same exact size as the pearls on the dress.

“We still have several hours for the party. We do not need to get dressed yet. Let us go out and enjoy the sunshine for a while,” Lady Annabelle said in a low, conspiratorial voice. Lady Cecilia’s hand went immediately to her mouth and she giggled behind it. Lady Julia raised her eyebrows, a small grin fighting for the ends of her lips.

“Lady Annabelle, are you hatching a plot?” she asked, her voice very curious.

Lady Annabelle grinned. “Whatever do you mean? Of course not.”

She turned to the stairs and climbed them. “Come, let us change into the clothes to go outside. It may be muddy from recent rains.”

“I think it has been sunny enough to dry the earth, though,” Lady Julia said, following behind her friend. She had a lot of clothes at the Cartwrights’ home. She had no problem fitting into them, as she was of average height and slender as could be.

“Well, we shall see. I am going to err on the side of caution and at least bring my boots. Then if I do not need them, I will leave them on the porch.”

Lady Julia nodded. “That is a good idea, Lady Annabelle. Shall I ask Lady Joanna to come?”

“If you wish to, of course,” Lady Annabelle replied. “But I do not think she will want to.”

“Probably not but I will ask.”

Lady Julia went to the room she shared with her sister when they visited Norrend, the name of the mansion in which Lady Annabelle’s family lived. The other two went hurriedly to Lady Annabelle’s room.

***

“I just do not know what to do with my sister,” Lady Julia said, aggravated, as they walked down the pathway toward town. “I try so hard to encourage her to come out with me. It is not just today but it seems so often now! And do you know she has told me that she will wear the style your mother suggested to her after all? All that arguing for nothing! I do not understand the girl! Why do I feel so awful?”

“Because you have a soft heart and she’s your sister. That’s as it should be,” Lady Annabelle said firmly.

“I do not know where she gets that behavior from,” Lady Julia sighed. “I want her to be happy but sometimes it is very difficult for me.”

“You are a good sister, Lady Julia,” Lady Cecilia said. “I have seen her act younger than I am. And you defend her still. I applaud you for your patience and understanding. Whenever it gets difficult, you know we will be here to help you however we can.”

“Thank you so much,” Lady Julia replied in a soft voice. “I wish to see her happy and successful. Yet she seems so miserable all the time!”

The three fell silent, knowing why Lady Joanna was miserable. She, like her mother, could not get over the death of Luke. That trauma had caused Lady Joanna to retain a resentful attitude toward the world and anything in it. Her mother’s retreat from society was another blow to Lady Joanna that she was having a hard time handling. Lady Julia accepted Duchess Cartwright as a substitute mother and Lady Annabelle as a new sister, along with Lady Cecilia. They were family to her. Lady Joanna felt as though she had been abandoned when in actuality, she was given a new family in addition to the one she already had.

Lady Joanna did not see it that way and it only caused conflict. She did not act like a lady of eighteen, the way Lady Julia and Lady Annabelle did.

“I feel sorry for her.” Lady Annabelle put one arm around her friend and grasped her by the hand. “It will be all right, Lady Julia. You’ll see.”

Lady Cecilia giggled. “Lady Annabelle is usually right about these things, you know,” she said in an amused voice, her pretty eyes crinkling at the ends when she smiled.

“I truly do feel sorry for her.” Lady Annabelle lifted one hand and placed it on her chest. “She is such a sad girl inside, so lonely and depressed, even though she is with others who love her.”

Lady Julia shook her head. “She is lonely in a room filled with people.”

“We must speak about something else!” Lady Annabelle exclaimed. “We will do our best with her and be patient! She is your sister, after all. We must come to her defense.”

“She is not so bad, Lady Julia,” Lady Cecilia said, finally adding her two cents.

Lady Julia lifted one hand to giggle behind it. “I have two of the best friends a girl could ever ask for!”

The three of them gathered together in a free-for-all hug, laughing softly.

“Next time, she will come,” Lady Annabelle said as they separated. She rested her head briefly against Lady Julia’s head and smiled widely.

“I hope so.” Lady Julia sounded positive. She grinned at them.

“It is quite warm out here, is it not? I should have brought along my fan.” Lady Annabelle spotted a bench and made a beeline for it. “Let us sit in the sun for a spot and then return to our duties. What do you say?”

“Jolly good idea, Lady Annabelle,” Lady Julia was on her heels. “Jolly good.”

Chapter 2

The Duke of Cardinal, Stephen William Colbourn, was the youngest duke in South England. He was also the most well-known and well-liked. His reputation was immaculate, despite his young age and the fact that he had taken the title when he was but a mere sixteen years old. He was blessed with an uncle on his mother’s side, also a duke, who took him under his wing. He’d noted to dignitaries passing through that his young nephew was the fastest learner in all the Queen’s land and he was extremely proud of the lad’s progress.

At twenty, the Duke of Cardinal had solidified his reputation throughout England simply through word of mouth. If he had not met someone in person, they would know of his name all throughout England and in some other parts of the world, as well.

His father’s estate had been large and he owned many manufacturing businesses, making furniture, clothing and other odds and ends.

The Duke of Cardinal’s greatest passion, however, had nothing to do with the amount of money in his coffers. He was a lover of the arts, paintings, sculptures, and statues of old. He personally owned many masterpieces, which he proudly displayed in what he still considered his father’s mansion. It was difficult to let go of his father’s legacy and presence. It had been domineering and strong. His father had taught him till the age of sixteen and he considered himself a better man because he had listened.

As he rode in the carriage down the street toward Norrend, he thought about what beauties he was about to see. He was visiting with the duke and duchess to see if they had any paintings or artifacts they wanted to sell.

The Duke of Norrend had spread word of his intention to sell half of his collection. When asked why, his answer was that he had not displayed them for a long time and did not want their beauty to remain unseen.

The Duke of Cardinal was excited to see what was there. The Duke of Norrend had the paintings stacked in the cellar of his mansion, which, by all accounts, was quite vast. The Duke of Cardinal hadn’t been to visit the Cartwrights before. He had heard of them in name only, just as they had heard of him. Their reputation was as solid as his, though the duchess was said to be colder than her husband but amiable enough.

He was not worried about the duchess. He was not there to talk to her or discuss business with her. As a matter of fact, he doubted he would have two words to say to the woman, other than hello and goodbye. Maybe he would tack on a “Your Grace” or “madam” to be civil.

The Duke of Cardinal did not think of himself as a man who had time for frivolities like females. He saw no need to pursue anything of that nature until he was ready. He did not consider himself ready.

His mother, the Duchess of Cardinal, still lived, though her countenance was not the same. It had taken a great toll on her when her husband died. She reacted similarly to Lady Rickman, although she was perfectly capable of continuing to make good decisions regarding her children and life. She got out of the house, attended balls and parties, socialized often with the people of the ton. They regarded her highly. But she was rarely seen with a smile unless she was looking at the Duke of Cardinal. He was her pride and joy. She expected great things from him, and great things were what he had given her. He loved her dearly and vowed to always take care of her.

His trip to the Norrend mansion was made even more special to him because they owned a valuable piece of artwork by the great Tiziano Vecellio, an Italian painter known for his colorful style and unique brushstrokes.

He had created many beautiful paintings in many different styles, including portraits of individuals, landscapes, and mythological subjects.

He was very well-liked and his mother practically worshipped his work. There were three of the sixteenth-century Venetian painter’s works of art hanging in the Colbourn mansion already. He was proud of them and hoped to purchase another for his mother from Duke Cartwright.

He’d heard the duke had procured the Salome with the Head of John the Baptist or Judith, a religious work that depicted a woman holding the head of John the Baptist while a maiden looked on. His mother considered this to be one of the most beautiful works of art ever to be painted.

“It’s a portrait of beauty and sadness,” she would say when seeing it in a volume of famous paintings.

He was excited to get a chance to put his hands on the actual painting, should the duke still have it. He leaned to the window and looked out at the mansion on the hill. It had a winding roadway up to the house. It was lined with trees on both sides but he could see how it wound up the side, following a flowing stream that ran along the right side of it.

The hill the mansion was sitting on was dotted with sculptures, fountains, shrubs, flowerbeds, and the prettiest green grass the Duke of Cardinal had seen in quite some time.

The carriage rolled smoothly over the graveled road and he was impressed by the care the duke was taking with his landscaping. It was quite beautiful.

The Duke of Cardinal continued admiring the duke’s land until they reached the front doors. He stepped out of the carriage and nodded at the driver, who would stay until the Duke of Cardinal was ready to leave.

He went up to the front doors. Before he could knock, it was opened by a young woman in a uniform, carrying a burlap sack. She paled when she saw him and nearly dropped the sack. He reached down and steadied it in her hands.

“I… I apologize, my lord. I am so very sorry.” She curtsied to him several times.

“Do not worry yourself, young lady. I am the Duke of Cardinal. Your master is expecting me. Will you have me announced?” While he spoke, he took the bag from her and placed it to the side. She looked down at it and then back to him, her face red.

“Yes, Your Grace, of course. Please follow me.”

The Duke of Cardinal did so after she took his hat, cane, and the light cape he’d been wearing. It was not a cold day but it was somewhat humid and he did not like the feel of it. She put the cape over one arm and held the hat and cane in the other. She went to the third door on the right, passing the curving staircase that would take a visitor to the bedrooms upstairs.

“He is in his study, my lord. I’ll announce you.” She opened the door and poked her head in to see if the master was in the room. “My lord? His Grace, the Duke of Cardinal, is here to see you.”

The Duke of Norrend raised one hand, looking up at the young maid over his eyeglasses. “Tell him to come in, please, Mary.”

The girl went in the room and held it open for the Duke of Cardinal, who passed by her with a curt nod. “Thank you, Mary,” he said in a low voice. She colored again, lowered her eyes and nodded. She was out the door and closing it behind her just moments later.

The Duke of Cardinal looked at the Duke of Norrend, who had stood up and was holding out his hand. “Hello, Duke Colbourn. I trust your trip was a good one.”

“It was, thank you, Your Grace. How has your day been?”

“Productive, for the most part. Please sit.”

The Duke of Cardinal sat in a chair closer to the window. The Duke of Norrend came around his desk and sat in another chair that faced Colbourn at an angle. “Tell me,” the Duke of Norrend said, “how is your mother faring? A fine woman, she is. I was saddened to hear her condition has not gotten better since the death of your father.”

“It has been four years, my lord,” Colbourn replied. “And I fear she will never recover. I am glad that she chooses to continue with her social life but I miss her smiles. I would do all I could to make them come back.”

“I am sure you do your best, Colbourn. It is a matter of the heart that we cannot fathom. I must admit, I fear the day I will lose my beloved, Louise, though she is a bit difficult at times.”

The men smiled at each other.

“Women are a conundrum,” the Duke of Cardinal said, shaking his head. “I have not met one yet that has struck me to be less than extremely complex.”

“Complex, yes, for all of womankind. Difficult? Louise would fit in the latter category. There is a difference.”

“I have no experience to use as examples to debate with you on that fact, my lord. I will bow to your superior knowledge.”

The Duke of Norrend laughed. “I am glad you have come, Colbourn. I do hope you plan to attend the ball at the Conservatory this evening.”

“I heard of it and have brought the appropriate attire,” Colbourn replied. “I am looking forward to it. I do not believe I have been in this area before to attend such an event. I believe it will be quite a lot of fun.”

“I do hope so. I insist you ride with us. There is no need for you to attend solo. I have opened my home to you and am obligated to ensure you are entertained, as well as satisfied with our business dealings.”

The Duke of Cardinal nodded. So far, the reputation of Duke Cartwright held strong. He was a decent man, intelligent and well-spoken. The Duke of Cardinal could tell they would become friends. Perhaps he would learn from the duke, since the man was twice his age. “That is excellent, my lord.”

“Shall we take a look at the paintings I have in storage now?”

“I would certainly like that.” Colbourn felt a jolt of excitement pass through him. Duke Cartwright was a man who liked to get things done right away. That was the Duke of Cardinal’s kind of man.

He stood up and followed the Duke of Norrend to the door. Before they got to it, it was opened and a young woman ran in. Her dark blond hair was pulled back in two braids.

Some of the strands had strayed from the braids and were curling around her face. She halted in place. He noticed when her hazel eyes moved to him.

He was somewhat taken aback by her beauty. She had glowing skin, small dark pink lips, high cheekbones, a tiny button nose.

She was the ultimate beauty. In all the paintings he had ever seen – and he’d seen quite a few – the Duke of Cardinal had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

He stood back, waiting for Duke Cartwright to introduce him to this lovely young woman. All the women he had encountered who had their fair share of beauty had turned out to be ugly inside. Greed, jealousy, and lust were abounding. He was not that type of man.

He looked at the young woman, wondering if she was ugly on the inside. From her face and form, it could not be told. He thought of her as angelic from the moment she stepped into the room.

“Duke Colbourn, allow me to introduce my eldest daughter, Lady Annabelle.”

The Duke of Cardinal took Lady Annabelle’s outstretched hand, bent at the waist, and gave the top of her glove a kiss.

“Charmed, I am sure.” He turned to look at the Duke of Norrend. “You have no need for beautiful paintings, my lord. You have a lovely beauty right here in your home.”

The Duke of Norrend smiled widely, turning his eyes to his daughter. “She is a lovely girl, you are right. And a beautiful soul, as well.”

Lady Annabelle laughed, covering her mouth for a moment. “Oh, Father, you do flatter me. That’s why I love you so much. Well, it is not the only reason.”

The three of them laughed, the first time that Lady Annabelle would hear the sound of the Duke of Cardinal’s joy.

She liked it very much.

Do you want to find out how the story continues?

Click on the link below:

http://abbyayles.com/AmB023

Also by Abby Ayles

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●                  Saving Lady Abigail

●                  Engaging Love

●                    Portrait of Love

●                  A Mysterious Governess for the Reluctant Earl

●                    Loving A Lady

●      Redeeming Love for the Haunted Ladies

●        The Secret to the Ladies’ Hearts

●      Falling for the Hartfield Ladies

●      Capturing the Viscount’s Heart

●      The Odd Mystery of the Cursed Duke

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●      A Second Chance for the Tormented Lady

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