Juliana (37 page)

AUNTS AURELIA
and Bedelia had been thrilled when James asked them if they might help out at the Institute. They’d arrived at New Hope to be trained first thing after breakfast Saturday morning and taken to their tasks with great enthusiasm, running the reception room with astounding precision. James had been able to vaccinate more patients in a day than he usually did in three.

At four o’clock, before his aunts departed to ready themselves for the Teddington ball, he’d penciled their names on his schedule, careful to make sure their assigned shifts wouldn’t overlap and run him ragged. Then he’d gone home to change, decided to lie down and rest his feet for just a moment, and awakened four hours later.

By the time he dressed and left, it was past ten o’clock. He arrived at the ball very late and a little moody. When Occlestone happened upon him just inside the entrance and made a snide remark, James nearly walked right back outside again. But he wanted to tell Juliana how well things had gone at the Institute today.

Unfortunately, Lady Amanda buttonholed him before he got the chance.

He hadn’t even been announced yet—he’d only just handed his things to the footman manning the cloakroom—when she approached him, wringing her hands. “Lord Stafford, where have you been? One of Lady Teddington’s guests is terribly ill.”

Absurdly, he noticed she wasn’t wearing gloves. And she looked quite distressed. She was usually so cool and aloof. Whose illness could she possibly be so concerned over? She seemed to have no close friends, except for—

“Is it Juliana?” he asked, his heart suddenly beating double time.

“No. Let me show you to her.” Bypassing the ballroom, she hurried him down a corridor.

“It’s another lady, then? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know.” She turned into a room and spun to face him so fast he nearly collided with her. “Kiss me,” she said, and then, throwing her arms around him, she pressed her lips to his.

He went rigid as a corpse, stunned and disoriented and horrified and
why was this strange girl attached to his mouth?

He pushed her away. “What in blazes do you think you’re doing?” His wits were slowly returning, but with them came additional confusing emotions. He felt guilty for shoving her, especially because she’d almost toppled over, and he also felt bad for wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which had been quite rude and unnecessary, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

But the most confusing feeling of all was nothing. He’d never before kissed a girl and felt
nothing
. Or at least, nothing pleasant. Nothing besides a face mashed against his own.

“What was I
doing
? I was kissing you!” she wailed, and now he felt even worse, because she looked just as horrified as he felt. “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”

“What?”

“Juliana said that after I’d kissed you, you’d fall in love with me. Have you?”

“No!” He shook his head emphatically. Lady Amanda was a lovely girl, even more lovely now that she was finally showing some spirit. Her cheeks were flushed prettily and her blue-gray eyes were flashing.

But he loved a girl with hazel eyes.

“Where is Juliana?” He glanced around. “Good gracious, this is the ladies’ retiring room.” The room was strewn with reticules and other feminine belongings. Screens in two corners most likely hid chamber pots—but he wasn’t about to make his way over and find out. “It’s a miracle no one else is in here. Someone could appear any minute.”

“I know.”

“Ladies tend to visit in bunches. Any number of guests could have seen us kissing!”

“I know.”

“You know? You
know
?” He grabbed her by an arm and took a step back, and then another, and another, until they’d returned to the momentarily deserted but very public corridor. “Have you any idea what could have happened had we been caught?”

“What I was hoping would happen?”

“What you were hoping…” Bile rose in his throat. Slowly, through clenched teeth, he said, ”You and Juliana planned to trick me again, didn’t you? That meddling little—” He broke off, coughing, choking on fury.

Was it just yesterday he’d decided her meddling could be helpful? Well, to blazes with that!

“She didn’t meddle,” Lady Amanda said, her eyes flooding. ”It was my idea this time. All my idea. She refused to help me. She said it would be unethical.”

“Blasted right it is!” What was it with ladies crying around him lately? Yesterday Juliana, and now Lady Amanda. Had all the girls he knew formed a pact to watch him squirm?

A tear overflowed and ran down her cheek. “Why can’t you just agree to kiss me, then? You want to, don’t you? You’ve been courting me for weeks.”

“I most certainly have…”

Not.
He’d meant to say
not
. But he couldn’t get the word out. Good gracious, he abruptly realized, he
had
been courting her for weeks. Or at least it must have seemed that way to her. He’d sent gifts and asked her to dance and—

Suddenly he needed to sit down. But there were no chairs in the corridor, and he seemed to have lost the strength to propel himself to another location. He leaned against the wall instead. “Well, that is…”

How could he explain it? Although she and Juliana had certainly been wrong to trick him, what he’d done was just as bad, wasn’t it? He’d misled Lady Amanda to achieve his own ends with another girl. There was no excuse for such behavior—all he could think was that she so rarely showed her feelings, perhaps he’d forgotten she had any. Which was despicable of him. How could he have been so thoughtless and cruel?

“I’m sorry, Lady Amanda,” he said, “I—”

“My father will be home tomorrow evening,” she interrupted in clipped tones, clearly impatient with his half-baked efforts to explain himself. “He may not let me out of the house again before my wedding. However will I escape marrying Lord Malmsey then?”

“Escape…what?” He blinked. “Your wedding? I don’t understand. What on earth makes you think Lord Malmsey would marry you? He’s in love with Lady Frances.”

“Well, he offered for my hand before he
met
Lady Frances. And my father is going to make us marry, unless—”

“You’re
engaged
?” he interrupted. “To Lord Malmsey?”

All the time Juliana had been trying to match him with Lady Amanda, the girl had been engaged?

“We’re to be wed a week from today. And the only way I can get out of it is if I’m caught with another gentleman.” She grabbed both his hands. Painfully reserved Lady Amanda grabbed his hands, and she wasn’t even wearing gloves. She was
that
desperate. “Could you please just cooperate?”

He knew he should. He knew it was only right to make amends for his actions by following through. But he couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

Two chattering guests entered the corridor, heading for the ladies’ retiring room. He pulled his hands from Lady Amanda’s and lowered his voice. “I cannot,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I cannot cooperate. I cannot marry you. I’m in love with another girl.”

He fled back to the cloakroom before guilt could get the better of him. He couldn’t decide whether he was more furious with Lady Amanda for trying to trick him again, Juliana for trying to match him with someone who was engaged, or himself for misleading them both. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to go home.

“James!” he heard as he passed the ballroom.

He turned to see Juliana, a cautious smile on her face.

Cautious? Juliana? Was she in another strange mood?

“How did it go with your aunts?”

“Fine,” he said shortly.

Her smile disappeared. “Is something wrong?”

“Your friend tried to trick me again. Your
engaged
friend.”

“Oh.” Her face went white. “Faith. I can explain—”

“I’m sure you can, since you always have a plan to fix everything. But I don’t want to hear it tonight. I’m going home.”

Still deathly pale, she hesitated a moment.

She hesitated. Juliana hesitated. Confident, self-assured Juliana.

“All right,” she said at last. “Can we discuss this tomorrow at Lady Hartley’s breakfast?”

“I don’t think so. I have more important things to do than attend a silly breakfast.” The Institute would be closed since it was Sunday, but perhaps he’d work on the account books. Or clip his nails. Anything would be better than wasting half the day smiling at people he didn’t care about. He’d never attended garden parties or balls by his own choice—he put up with them only to placate his mother and, more recently, to see Juliana.

But he didn’t want to see Juliana. Or rather, to have her see him. To face her in a tent full of nosy spectators.

Right now he couldn’t even face himself.

AFTER JAMES
left, Juliana returned to the ballroom, furious and intending to find Amanda.

Before she had a chance, Amanda found her.

“Whom?” the older girl asked, tears spilling from her red-rimmed eyes. “Whom is Lord Stafford in love with?”

“I told you not to try to trick him again! And why on earth did you tell him you’re engaged?” People were gawking at them, so Juliana hurried her to a corner of the ballroom. “Now he’ll never agree—” She stopped short, finally registering Amanda’s question. “What makes you think Lord Stafford is in love with anyone?”

“He told me! I kissed him, and then—”

“You
kissed
him?” A stab of jealousy took Juliana by surprise. Or, all right, to be honest, she wasn’t surprised. But it certainly felt bad and very wrong. “What did he do then?”

“He pushed me away. You said he would fall in love with me, but he pushed me away!”

The jealousy faded as quickly as it had flared, replaced instead by elation. Wild, intoxicating elation. Juliana had never felt more buffeted by volatile emotions, and she’d have never thought she could feel so euphoric while her friend was clearly so wretched. But she couldn’t seem to control it. Amanda had kissed James, and he’d reacted by pushing her away.

She must be a terrible, heartless friend, because she wanted to scream with joy.

“I asked him if he’d just cooperate,” Amanda continued with a pathetic sniffle, “and compromise me so my father would have to let me marry him. But he said he couldn’t, because he’s in love with another girl.” She heaved another prolonged, woebegone sniff. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Juliana said. It wasn’t a lie. She had her suspicions, but she didn’t
know
.

James had claimed he would never fall in love with anyone. He’d never admitted to having any sort of loving feelings for Juliana. He’d never called her
love
or even
dear
. He’d never sent her flowers. And he’d seemed very angry with her tonight.

“I don’t know,” she repeated, looking away.

Because although she didn’t know, she couldn’t help hoping…

Her gaze wandered the ballroom, past Lord Malmsey dancing with Aunt Frances. Had her meddling doomed them both to despair? Even if James
did
love her and eventually forgave her, how could she ever be with him knowing their happiness came at the expense of other people she cared for?

And then there was the duke…

Having at last emerged from the card room, he stood gazing at her, a heated look in his eyes. He’d never looked at her like that before. Not even close. Just her luck, now that she’d decided she couldn’t marry him, he’d finally decided he wanted her.

Amanda shifted uneasily beside her. “Why is David looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Juliana asked. Then she blinked. And stared.

Faith, the duke wasn’t looking at her at all! Let alone looking at her
like that
. He was looking at Amanda.
Like that.

Could the duke love Amanda?
Amanda?

Well, why not? she thought, glancing back and forth between them. After all, they were two peas in a pod. Two perfectly round, blemishless peas, with about as much passion between them as one would expect from a pair of legumes.

No, that wasn’t quite true. After all, at the moment the duke certainly had something in his eyes that looked like passion, and Amanda’s eyes were shining with some powerful emotion, too. Perhaps their sort of passion was simply different from Juliana’s—and James’s. Not better or worse. Just different.

Honestly, the duke and Amanda were ideal for each other. He related better to her than he ever had to Juliana. Amanda’s cold upbringing had matched his own, after all. The two of them could understand each other. Support each other.

She turned back to face Amanda. “It’s a shame you won’t marry a by-blow, because that would solve everything.”

Amanda bit her lip. “I might marry a by-blow if the by-blow was the duke,” she said meekly.

Juliana gasped. “Are my ears deceiving me? Did you just say you would marry the duke?”

“I was wrong.” Instead of looking down at her feet as she used to, Amanda met Juliana’s eyes. “He’s not to blame for his parents’ mistakes, and he’s kind and a good person.”

“Then whyever did you say
no
at Lady Pevensey’s musical evening? With such vehemence, no less?”