Angel in My Arms (45 page)

"Very good, my lord."

Griffin bowed as deeply as a man bowed to the king. The impudent
monkey behind him stood stock-still, staring as if he were blind.
Because he was in good humor, Simeon chose to ignore the slight.

"Good day." Simeon nodded his head.

"Good day." Griffin backed away, then turned, and made his exit from the gallery.

Julia stared at the man in the window. His hat was so preposterous
that she wanted to laugh, and yet there was something about the face
beneath the feathers that enticed her. His gaze met hers and she felt
lightheaded, the way she did when a coach went over a bump and
remained airborne for a moment. It was the strangest feeling, not bad,
just different.

Lizzy glanced up and giggled. "See the man in the funny hat?" She
covered her mouth with mitted hands and laughed behind them. "They wear
silly clothes in London, don't you think, Sister? I see men in face
paint and women hanging their bosoms out of their gowns until you can
see their nippies."

Julia didn't answer. She couldn't tear her gaze from the stranger's.
She knew St. Martin watched as well. She knew he would think her stare
inappropriate, and yet she couldn't help herself.

It was the stranger who glanced away first.

Julia lowered her gaze to her lap. Her stomach fluttered. Who was
that man? Surely not a servant in such flothery? A friend? Another
distant relative? There were so many members of her betrothed's
household that she still had not met them all.

"Sister, I said I'm cold." Lizzy spoke in a tone that implied she'd been forced to repeat herself.

Julia blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lizzy. Let's go inside then and warm
ourselves with a cup of chocolate." She rose from the bench and took
her sister's hand. She didn't know what on earth possessed her to stare
at the stranger like that. Perhaps Lizzy was right, perhaps it was just
his preposterous hat.

Julia led Lizzy back up the garden path, beneath a bare arched
arbor, and through double doors into the rear of the great, sprawling
London house. As they entered the dim hallway, a man approached. To her
dismay, Julia realized it was the stranger in the hat.

"Morning, ladies," he called gaily.

Lizzy giggled. "The feathers of his hat are yellow as a daffodil," she whispered.

"Shhht!" Julia reprimanded softly. Once again, she couldn't take her gaze off him.

Like many other men of the king's court she had met here in Bassett
Hall, his lips were rouged, his high, handsome cheekbones dusted with
rice powder, and his chin was decorated with a half-moon-shaped face
patch. His head was covered in a monstrous wig, the same coal black hue
that the King's hair was said to be. He looked the part of every dandy
she'd met in the last three days, but there was something different
about this man… something different about his eyes. They were not
vacant like the other fops, but filled with a glistening light… a
secret.

"Out early this morning are we?" he asked. His outrageously
high-heeled shoes clacked on the flagstone floor. "Is it chilly? Shall
I need my muff?" He swaggered oddly as he walked on tiptoes, his arms
slightly extended.

Never in her life had Julia seen such a theatrical man. She found her voice. "Not… not too cold, but windy."

He touched his manicured hand to his breast, still approaching. His
well-cut doublet was a most hideous lemon yellow and lime green.
"That
time of year thou mayst in me behold when yellow leaves, or none or
few, do hang upon those boughs which shake against the cold."

She turned as he passed her. "Shakespeare, a sonnet, I think." She smiled to herself, pleased she could recall.

He met her gaze, a flicker of surprise on his face. "A woman who
reads? Gads." He struck his chest again. "Another wonder of the modern
world?"

Julia lifted one eyebrow and lowered her hand to her hip. "I beg your pardon, sir, but of course I can read."

He raised his palm to her. "No offense meant…"

"Julia," she offered, too intrigued to be insulted. "Lady Julia Thomas."

He struck a leg and bowed, sweeping his hat off his bewigged head.
"My profuse apologies, Lady Julia. You are, of course, his lordship's
intended."

She dipped a curtsy. Lizzy just stood behind her and stared.

"Baron Archer, cousin to the Earl of St. Martin, at your service.
Griffin, I am called to friend and foe." He straightened and replaced
his hat.

"Oh, and this is my sister, Lizzy." Julia sidestepped to present her.

He bowed again. "Lady Lizzy."

Lizzy giggled and curtsied. "My, sir, that is an ugly hat you wear. I hope you did not pay a great deal for it."

Julia sucked in her breath, shocked that her sister would dare say such a thing. "Lizzy!"

But instead of being offended, the baron threw back his head and
laughed. He whipped off his hat and stared at it. "God rot my bowels,
'tis ugly, isn't it?"

Lizzy nodded, wide-eyed and frank. "Ugly, indeed. The ugliest I believe I've ever seen."

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Julia saw a dark-skinned man
approach. She had only seen a blackamoor once before, and had to force
herself not to stare.

"Jabar! Where did I get this atrocious hat?" the baron called.

"Paris, my master." The exotic man with chocolate brown skin spoke in a liquid-soft voice that was mesmerizing.

"And why did I buy such an unsightly beast?"

"Because you liked it, my lord." Jabar's English was impeccable.

"Well, Lady Lizzy doesn't like it, nor do I." With that, Griffin sailed the hat into the air, over Julia and Lizzy's heads.

Lizzy burst into another fit of giggles.

"Good morn to you, ladies." The cousin to St. Martin bowed again
and, before Julia could think of anything reasonable to say, he and his
blackamoor were out the door.

"Funny man." Lizzy picked up the discarded hat and placed it on her
head. She blew at the feathers that dangled over her face and watched
them flutter with amusement. "Do you think he lives here with the dark
man?"

Julia stared at the empty doorway, utterly perplexed by the exchange
that had just taken place. Lizzy was right, the man was funny, and
utterly ridiculous, and yet there was something about him… something…

Julia wrapped one arm around her sister's waist and led her down the
hall. "I don't know if he lives here, but it wouldn't surprise me." She
glanced over her shoulder. "Nothing would surprise me at this moment."

That evening Julia dressed carefully in one of the gowns her
betrothed had presented to her upon her arrival. She tried not to feel
hurt that his lordship did not find her own country gowns appropriate
for her to wear while she served as his hostess. Instead, she wrestled
down her pride and donned the gown he requested she wear. She would
have preferred the green velvet, but he had been specific in the note
he sent by way of his secretary.

The dress was a magnificent piece of work, far finer than anything
her mother had been able to provide for her. The underskirts were a
heavy azure brocade trimmed in fur, the bodice and overskirt sewn of
the same azure in silk. The neckline of the bodice was fur-trimmed and
scooped low over Julia's well-rounded breasts. Her hair was dressed
from the center, parting into wide side ringlets and a single shoulder
ringlet which Drusilla—with the aid of her trusty iron-curling rod— had
worked long and hard.

Julia stared at herself in an oval free-standing mirror framed in
gold gilt. Her grandmother's pearl earrings swung in her ears. She
smoothed the bodice of the gown, feeling a little uncomfortable with
the way it revealed her breasts. "I suppose I'm ready."

" 'Bout time," Drusilla, the woman who had been her nurse since
birth, complained. After all these years Julia had grown used to
Drusilla's grumpiness. In fact, here at Bassett Hall, it was a
comfortable reminder of home.

Before pushing out the door of the apartment, Drusilla rubbed rouge on Julia's lips and pinched her cheeks hard.

"Ouch!"

"Try not to look like you're bound for yer hangin', eh?" Drusilla warned.

In the doorway, Julia glanced over Drusilla's hunched shoulder to
wave goodbye to Lizzy. Although Julia's mother Susanne had been invited
to sup with the earl's guests, Lizzy had not.

Lizzy grinned and waved, not understanding that she was being snubbed by her new male guardian.

Julia gathered her courage and took the hallway toward the grand staircase and her awaiting betrothed.

Halfway down stairs that were wide enough to ride a coach and four,
Julia heard footsteps behind her. "Lady Julia…" someone called, then
softer, "Lady Julia."

The voice was familiar.

She halted and turned, her crackling skirts bunched in her fists. It
was Baron Archer… Griffin. He was dressed in another ludicrous outfit,
this one of pastel blue and pink silk.

"Lady Julia." He fluttered a long pink handkerchief. "Do allow me to escort you below."

Julia watched with fascination as the man tottered down the
staircase in his heeled shoes. The height of the platforms added to his
own tall stature, making him a rather imposing figure.

She smiled and curtsied as best she could on the stair tread. "Good even', my lord."

"S'death, please, call me Griffin." He took her hand.

"Then call me Julia."

He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. "Julia," he said softly in a voice that didn't quite seem his own.

They paused for the briefest moment, then broke the mutual gaze and started down the steps again.

"I wanted to apologize for my comment in the entry this morning.
Anyone will tell you my mouth runs day and night, but I mean nothing by
it." It was Griffin's slightly effeminate voice, and yet it wasn't. "I
never meant to infer you lacked intelligence."

His arm was warm beneath her grasp. Comforting. "No offense taken. I
swear it. In truth few country girls are educated beyond household
responsibilities and needlework. As luck, or God's intervention, would
have it, my father was a man who believed learning was for all noble
families, even the
inferior
females."

He chuckled, seeming not only to catch the tone in her voice when she said "inferior," but to agree with her sarcasm.

"Well, I wanted to welcome you to Bassett Hall and tell you that if you need anything, I offer my services."

She dared a sideways glance at Griffin. His offer was of course
nothing but a formality, and yet there was something in his tone that
made her believe he was entirely sincere.

"This Hall, London, and my cousin for certain, can be intimidating."
Griffin halted at the bottom of the grand stairs. "I wouldn't wish to
see you frightened or unhappy."

Their gazes met a final time, and Julia was amazed to see not the
man in the ridiculous clothing, but the man beneath the genuine smile
and sparkling eyes similar to her own shade of blue. Her grandfather
had always said a person should not judge a man by his cloak, and she
was beginning to understand the wisdom of his warning.

"Ah! There she is, my prize," the Earl of St. Martin called from the nearest chamber. "Come, my dearest, and meet our guests."

Julia's gaze flickered from St. Martin back to the man who still held her tightly on his arm.

"Your servant, my lord," she bid formally as she pulled away from Griffin and curtsied to him.

"Your servant, madame…" Griffin bowed deeply. "Forever."

Julia lowered her lashes and turned away. The warmth of Griffin's
touch still burned her fingertips as she greeted her husband-to-be.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Colleen Faulkner lives with her family in Southern Delaware. She is the author of eighteen Zebra historical romances, including
Fire Dancer, To Love a Dark Stranger, Destined To Be Mine, O'Brian's Bride,
and
Captive.
Colleen's newest historical romance,
Once More,
will be published in October 1998. Colleen loves hearing from her
readers and you may write to her c/o Zebra Books. Please include a
self-addressed stamped envelope if you wish a response.