My Fair Mistress (40 page)

Flipping the blade up, he poked the tip into his leather-bound blotter.

The man had nerve, sniffing around Julianna’s skirts like some randy hound when he knew she was newly married. Perhaps he hoped to lay a foundation for later, counting on his luck turning, and her agreeing to take him as her new lover some months in the future.

Still, Rafe’s more rational side realized that today’s encounter was likely innocent, especially with Beatrice Neville along as an inconvenient third. The news that Julianna had enjoyed such a merry time over tea with Summersfield grated, though.

She never smiled here at home—not at him, anyway. He missed that, her glorious smile, and the pretty little twinkle that shone in her eyes when something struck her as funny.

It was not only the smile and the twinkle,
he thought.

I miss her.

Ironic that marriage had driven them apart. The rift between them seemed to grow wider by the day, but for the life of him, he did not know how to overcome it.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for the stack of financial inquiries on the corner of his desk. Needing something, anything, to take his mind off Julianna, he forced himself to read.

Chapter Twenty-one

L
ORD AND LADY Pendragon.”

As the butler’s announcement rang out across the ballroom, the eyes of every person present shifted their way.

For a long moment, Julianna and Rafe stood poised at the entrance to Lord and Lady Chipford’s grand ballroom. With one hand resting atop Rafe’s elegantly tailored black sleeve, she was careful to keep her mask of regal indifference from slipping, her insides a battlefield of nerves.

They had arrived late, thus avoiding the strain of standing for an eternity in the reception line. Julianna had deemed it the best strategy for making an easy entrance into Society—or at least as easy as could be managed under the circumstances.

Tonight would be their test.

Prinny may have granted Rafe a title, which only yesterday the House of Lords had grudgingly confirmed, but neither of those acts could make the Ton accept him. Or her, for that matter, since she was his wife.

But as Rafe moved the pair of them forward, he did so with an easy confidence that belied his newly minted status as baron. Looking every inch the nobleman, his demeanor was such that any casual observer might have assumed he attended such gatherings all the time, when tonight was actually his first.

Their host and hostess moved through the crowd to greet them. Luckily the entertainment was a small one by Ton standards, with scarcely a hundred guests in attendance. With it being early December, Society’s numbers remained thin, only die-hard parliamentarians and devoted city-dwellers still in residence within London’s borders, all the rest having long ago departed for the country.

Yet no matter the time of year, people always loved a party, especially one that could boast of having as guests the source of this year’s most scintillating
on-dit.

Will they succeed or fail?
That was the question buzzing on everyone’s breath. Julianna wished she knew the answer, not yet certain how the evening would unfold despite all her earlier optimism.

“Welcome, my lord and my lady,” Lady Chipford said, a determinedly cheerful smile on her face.

Julianna had met her many times before and knew instinctively that Maude Chipford had not suggested the invitation. Her husband must have twisted her arm to gain her compliance. Chipford had aspirations at Court and with the prime minister as well. Obviously, he wished to support their newest selection to the peerage.

Both Chipfords were quite pleasant, particularly so when the Duke of Wyvern sauntered up and gave Julianna and Rafe an exuberant greeting.

“Glad to see you arrived,” Wyvern said, a slight gleam in his vivid blue eyes. “I was beginning to think you had decided not to come.”

“No,” Rafe drawled. “We merely had a late start. Julianna could not decide whether to wear the sapphire satin or the gold.”

What a whopper!
she thought, realizing Rafe might be far better at Ton games than she had imagined.

“Well, I, for one, am glad of her choice.” The duke reached out and took Julianna’s hand, bowing over it. “May I say you look radiant in gold, Lady Pendragon. You made a very wise choice.”

In a gesture that appeared both tender and possessive, Rafe covered her right hand where it still rested on his sleeve. “I’ll remind you she is already taken, Tony, and suggest you look elsewhere. I am sure there must be a few eligible ladies here this evening who would value such attentions, even yours,” he finished, softening his words with a smile.

Lord and Lady Chipford’s eyes widened as they waited for the duke’s response, plainly unaware of his close friendship with Rafe.

Wyvern tossed back his head and laughed. “I daresay you are right. But haven’t you heard it isn’t fashionable to dote on your wife in public?”

“Perhaps, but when have I ever cared about such things, particularly not when it comes to my own dear Julianna.”

Turning his head, he gazed down upon her, his eyes filled with intensity and warmth. Catching the look, Julianna’s pulse gave a wild leap, and for an instant, she lost herself inside his eyes. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed the expression sincere, believed he truly did care for her and that she really was his “own dear Julianna.”

But then he looked away and the moment was gone, fading along with her weakness and her gullibility, her heart slowing as it returned to its normal rhythm.
He is playing a part for the crowd,
she reminded herself. After all, it wouldn’t do for anyone to realize the truth about their marriage.

Apparently Lady Chipford believed the fairy tale Rafe was weaving, a soft, indulgent smile curving her thin lips. “I forget the two of you are still newlyweds. How very charming you are together!” Reaching out, she tapped her fan playfully against Rafe’s arm. “Still, my lord, I simply cannot allow you to monopolize your bride for the whole of the evening. You shall have to let her be whisked away for a few minutes here and there.”

Rafe returned his hostess’s smile with a smooth one of his own. “Maybe a few, here and there, your ladyship.”

Lady Chipford laughed, the sound as light as a girl’s.

Not here ten minutes,
Julianna thought,
and Rafe has already gained a conquest. Perhaps his acceptance in Society won’t be so difficult after all.

“Yes, Pendragon,” Lord Chipford said, further confirming her supposition. “You must join me in the library for a brandy and some talk about the economy. Once you’ve had your dance, of course.”

Rafe inclined his head. “Of course.”

“Of course what?” the Marquis of Vessey asked as he joined their group. Bowing, he offered polite greetings all around.

“Pendragon has agreed to join Chipford for a brandy and talk of the economy,” Wyvern explained. “I’m sure there’ll be many fellows interested in your perspective, Rafe, myself included.”

“Well, I, for one, prefer to remain out here with the ladies,” Vessey declared. “In fact, if you are not otherwise engaged, I would be most happy to stand up with both of you ladies, though not at the same time, you understand,” he finished, giving a humorous wink.

Lady Chipford laughed. “Thank you, my lord, but I am afraid I do not dance. Lady Pendragon might welcome the offer, though, so long as her husband has no objection. He is most possessive, you know.”

The marquis raised a golden eyebrow. “Is he? I am glad to hear it. Lady Pendragon, would you care to take a turn this evening?”

“Yes, my lord, that would be most pleasant, and I am sure my husband can have no objection.”

“Not at all,” Rafe agreed, “so long as it’s only one dance.”

“In that case, I shall take this opportunity to request a dance as well,” the duke stated, his deep blue gaze alive with friendly good humor. “Lady Pendragon, what do you say?”

She couldn’t help but return his smile. “Thank you as well, Your Grace. I would be delighted.”

Another couple soon joined their group, offering congratulations to Rafe on his ascension to the peerage and best wishes to Julianna on her and Rafe’s marriage.

Without entirely realizing it, the two of them began to mingle, conversing with a variety of ladies and gentleman, all of whom seemed more than willing to chat. Some were merely curiosity seekers, hoping to collect a few tidbits of gossip to pass around come the morrow. Several others were friends and acquaintances of Julianna’s who wished to meet her new husband. There was a small number who refused to come near at all, their disapproval of Rafe clear. Despite their snobbery, however, none of them were willing to give him the cut directly.

And all the while, as she and Rafe moved slowly around the room, Rafe kept her hand tucked securely beneath his own. To all the world, one would imagine them to be a devoted couple.

Nearly an hour passed before the music began, signaling the start of the dancing. Rafe led her forward to take their places for a contra dance, where the men lined up on one side of the room and the ladies on the other. Facing one another, each couple would come together, then move apart again as prescribed by the dance, gracefully threading their way in and out of the line.

For an instant, as she and Rafe stood among the fifteen other couples waiting for the music to begin, a nervous tingle ran over her skin. She and Rafe had never danced before. What if they made a poor showing?

But seconds later, he proved her worries to be groundless. Not only did he know the steps, he executed them with fluid skill, as confident and commanding on the dance floor as he was in everything he did.

Knowing they were being observed, Julianna took care to keep a smile on her lips, conversing quietly with Rafe whenever the dance brought them near. They spoke of nothing significant, simple pleasantries that could have been shared by anyone.

Toward the end of the set, she ran out of conversation and so did he. Moving to the elegant music, she let herself take what pleasure there was to be had, enjoying the necessity of touching Rafe, even if it was through the barrier of gloves. Coming together then apart again, she savored the way their bodies came so tantalizingly close before being drawn away once more.

And then the dance was through.

Swallowing down an admittedly foolish sense of disappointment, she allowed Rafe to escort her off the floor.

“Are you feeling all right?” he inquired, bending his head downward so they would not be overheard.

“Yes, I am quite well.”

“If you should discover yourself otherwise, you have only to say and we will leave.”

She was about to express her thanks when they were interrupted by another couple.

Five minutes later, Rafe departed for the library and its promise of brandy and economic talk, leaving Julianna alone. Deciding she ought to sit for a few minutes to conserve her energy, she found a comfortable chair, rather glad for a moment of quiet. But her moment did not last long as a familiar gentleman approached.

Tipping back her head, she met Lord Summersfield’s affable gaze.

“How do you do, Lady Pendragon?”

“Very well, thank you, my lord.” She paused for a moment, casting a quick glance across the room to see if Rafe had returned. He had not.

But why am I worried?
she asked herself.

Rafe might play a good game of appearing madly in love with her, but she knew it was all an act. Besides, she liked Lord Summersfield and they were at a party in full view of Society.

She gave him a smile. “Please, will you not have a seat?”

A little over an hour later, Rafe strode back into the ballroom. With hunger tugging at his belly, he wondered if Julianna might be in a similar condition, eager to join the couples who were beginning to wander into the Chipfords’ dining room. On his way from the library, he’d stopped to take a quick peek at the supper buffet, the foodstuffs as plentiful as they were sumptuous-looking.

Of course, considering the late hour, Julianna might very well be tired. Perhaps rather than indulging in a meal, she would prefer to call for their carriage and make their way home. Fully prepared to do whichever activity she preferred, Rafe cast his gaze around the room.