The Perfect Mistress (24 page)

“I wouldn’t know.” Julia smiled weakly.

“No, of course not. What was I thinking? You’ll know soon enough. We all do.” He cast Hermione a fond smile. “I make her laugh.”

“It’s why I keep you around.”

“That, and my considerable charm and dashing good looks,” he said in a far-from-modest manner.

Hermione laughed. “That too.”

A wicked smile curved his lip. “One would hope there are other reasons as well.”

Julia had no desire to consider what those other reasons might be.

Hermione cast him a wicked look of her own.

“Shall we, my dear?” He held out his arm and Hermi-one took it.

“Are you leaving?” Julia asked.

“We have an engagement, dear.” Hermione shrugged. “Life, or rather death, is somewhat more busy than one would expect.”

“But I don’t know what to do. Or how I feel or anything.”

“I can’t tell you that.” Hermione scoffed. “I can only give you the benefit of my experience and considerable wisdom.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“Sarcasm, remember? Not becoming at all.” Hermione favored her with a brilliant smile. “And you are most welcome. Gregory?”

“Good evening, Lady Winterset.” He nodded and at once they both vanished.

Julia blew a long breath and lay back down. Not that she was going to sleep. Hermione had given her a great deal to think about as had, no doubt, been her purpose.

Was she falling in love with Harrison? She had no idea. She hadn’t felt at all like this when she had fallen in love with William. That had been almost natural. They had shared the same likes and dislikes. Nothing about William had been the least bit difficult.

With Harrison she was constantly at odds. Not just about the memoirs but about everything. Still, there was something special about the man. In one respect, Hermione was completely right. Nobody, not even her husband, had ever made her feel like that. Wanton and irrational and as if her very bones were melting.

But as for love, well, it was all most confusing. Still, she couldn’t ignore her immediate response when Hermione had asked how she’d feel if Harrison was abruptly gone from her life. Even now, she couldn’t quite vanquish the feeling of loss that still lay in the pit of her stomach.

She wasn’t used to feelings of confusion and she didn’t like it one bit. Something needed to be done. Someone needed to do something. And obviously that someone was her. She needed to make a decision about the disposition of the memoirs as her finances were growing smaller every day. And she needed to confront Harrison. If the kiss they’d shared meant nothing to him, she needed to know that. And if it had, she needed to know that too.

She absolutely would not fall in love with a man who would not return her love. Even if that resolve might well be too late. Still, the very idea that Harrison might be jealous did oddly lift her spirits.

She rolled onto her side, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. And smiled.

It did seem there was far more of Hermione in her than she had suspected and that probably wasn’t altogether bad.

Harrison and Miss Waverly strolled through the park at a sedate pace. Her mother and a companion were a good ten feet behind them. Far enough to allow the couple privacy but still well within sight. As was eminently proper. Regardless, Harrison wasn’t pleased by the presence of a chaperone. His intentions were entirely honorable after all.

In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but contrast this walk with Miss Waverly with the walk he’d taken with Julia. There was no need for a chaperone with a widow, not that she had needed one of course. He chuckled to himself. Nor, he suspected, would Julia allow one even if one was required. And Julia could converse on any number of topics. Even when they were at odds, it was never boring. Miss Waverly’s endless chatter on nothing of particular significance was, well, inane.

He couldn’t discuss literature with her as she did not read books, and he had no interest in the ladies’ magazines she did read. He doubted she read newspapers. Miss Waverly did not strike him as being interested in current events although she might well peruse the society pages. He wondered if she liked art but feared bringing up the topic. Miss Waverly didn’t seem to notice his silence. But then why would she? She chatted more than enough for the two of them and did go on about the latest ball she had attended, what she had worn, and who she had seen. And she had the most irritating penchant for gossip.

“I heard something quite scandalous the other night,” she began.

“Miss Waverly,” he interrupted and tried not to sound stern. “I am not fond of gossip.”

Her eyes widened. “Even about people you know?”

“Especially about people I know,” he said. “I do not find gossip at all becoming in a young lady.”

“That’s what Mother says.” Miss Waverly sighed and Harrison was at once relieved that she didn’t take his comment as a chastisement and get annoyed. “Although she doesn’t seem to think gossip on her part is the least bit objectionable. She is a dreadful gossip, you know, even if she does tend to learn the most interesting things. Why, only yesterday, she was saying …”

Harrison groaned to himself. Conversing with Miss Waverly was pointless. There was simply nothing to talk about. He had never thought the ability to converse in an intelligent manner was a particular asset in a wife, but now, the idea of spending the rest of his days with a woman who didn’t seem to have an opinion on anything beyond fashion or parties, was most disturbing. Surely it was because she was so young and not because she didn’t have a brain in her pretty head. The thought pulled him up short. He didn’t like women who were intelligent; he never had. Still, intelligent women might be maddening but they were never boring. Veronica was certainly never boring. And Julia, well, he couldn’t imagine ever being bored by Julia.

A woman walking a large, spotted dog passed by them. For the barest instant he thought it was Julia and his heart jumped. That too was most disturbing and no doubt due to his father’s talk yesterday about trusting his heart.

“Do you like dogs, Miss Waverly?” he said without thinking.

“Oh yes, I do, my lord.” She cast him a brilliant smile. “Father doesn’t like them. Mother had one when I was very young and Father hated it as it did seem to hate him. I don’t have one now but I fully plan to have at least one when I’m wed.” She fluttered her lashes at him and he smiled weakly. Not that it wasn’t charming. It was simply well rehearsed. “I would very much like a small, fluffy sort of dog. One that would sit in my lap and play with a ball and that sort of thing. In truth, I would like several. It would be great fun. Oh, I can see it now.”

“As can I, Miss Waverly.” He could indeed see it. A flock of small, yapping beasts that would nip at his heels and leave hair on the furniture. Animals that were nothing but annoyances and wouldn’t even provide proper protection on a walk in the park.

Miss Waverly launched into another recitation about something of no consequence and he was grateful for the respite. One thing to be said about the young woman, she required no particular attention from him save the occasional nod or assenting comment.

After he had spoken with his father yesterday, he had sent a note to Ellsworth, along with a bank draft, dissolving their arrangement. That should eliminate him from Julia’s life. While she was quite lovely, she had no money, her position in society was practically nonexistent, and a liaison with her would not be of any real benefit to Ellsworth. Harrison was confident the man would now leave her be and move on to greener pastures.

“My lord.” Miss Waverly stopped and turned toward him. “Might I be perfectly honest with you?”

“Please do, Miss Waverly.”

“Mother says, and Father agrees, that when an eligible bachelor, particularly one who is older—”

He cringed to himself.

“—asks permission to call on an unmarried girl, he does so with the idea of marriage in mind.” Her gaze met his. “So my question is whether that is indeed what you have in mind.”

“Miss Waverly,” he said slowly, trying to force words out past the fingers of panic that even now were wrapping themselves around his throat. “As we scarcely know one another, it seems entirely too early to be discussing even the idea of marriage. Don’t you agree?”

“I do indeed.” She beamed at him. “You are very wise.”

Because of my advanced years, no doubt
.

“But I do think you should know, if you are inclined in that direction at some point, we have discussed it.”

“We?” He raised a brow.

“Mother and Father and I, of course.”

“Of course.” As was most proper.

“And they would be amenable to this match.”

He studied her closely. “And you, Miss Waverly? Would you be amenable as well?”

“Oh my, yes, my lord. I would be a fool not to be.” She shook her head. “Why, you would be considered the catch of the year. Your wealth is sound and extensive and there has never been a hint of scandal about you. Even Mother is hard-pressed to find any gossip about you whatsoever aside from the fact that you have not been known to have asked permission to call on a young lady before. And while you are merely an earl now, you are heir to a much loftier title. You are really a perfect match.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice confidentially. “My dearest friend, Evelyn, has recently become engaged to an earl but he will never be more than an earl whereas you will one day be a marquess. Which means I would one day be a marchioness which is ever so much better than a mere countess. Evelyn would be quite green with envy. And as your father is so very old, I can’t imagine it will be all that long before he has gone on to his final resting place.” She paused as if she knew exactly what she’d said although he doubted it. “God rest his soul,” she added.

“My father, Miss Waverly, is the picture of health.” He offered his arm and they started off again. “I hope to have him with us for many years to come baring unforeseen accident.”

“Yes, that would be dreadful,” she murmured with no particular enthusiasm.

He didn’t often think about becoming the Marquess of Kingsbury one day, it was simply an accepted part of his life. The fact that his father would have to die first was not something he wished to dwell on.

“I just thought you should know,” she said. “About our … amenability that is.”

“Quite right.” He forced a pleasant smile. “Your candor is most appreciated.”

“I thought you would like it.” She beamed. “Now then, what was I saying? Oh yes. We were at a soiree with …”

Good God, how was he going to extricate himself from this mess? While Miss Waverly did indeed meet all of his qualifications, he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his days with her. And her little dogs too. Certainly, the simple request to call on her was not an absolute declaration of intentions, although it was considered a first step. It was not surprising that Miss Waverly and her parents had discussed a match between them. But the more time he spent around her, the more sure he was that they would never suit. She might be quite perfect, well bred, eminently proper, and everything he thought he had wanted but actually being with the appropriate candidate had opened his eyes.

Somewhere, in the back of his head, he heard Charles laughing.

Perhaps he should trust his heart even if he had no idea how to go about it. And perhaps the very fact that he was confused was significant. As was the realization that even with Miss Waverly by his side, all he could think about was Julia. The more he considered everything, the more perplexing it all became.

Worse, if he was wrong about the kind of wife he wanted, what else was he wrong about? And wasn’t it past time he found out?

… and, as she was my friend, I had to tell her. Even if in cases like this one very nearly always kills the messenger.

I have always found friendship interesting. It is my observation that friendships between men and women are only successful when their hearts are otherwise engaged. If not, the affection shared in friendship is often the beginning, which is the nature of men and women. The best marriages are those where husband and wife are friends as well as lovers. A man married to his dearest friend hardly ever strays.

Friendship between women is a different matter. The bond can be stronger than that between sisters as one has no choice in one’s sisters. A true friend will walk through fire for you or with you. It is easier to have stalwart friends though than to be one, especially when it comes to matters regarding men.

I was not at all bothered when my adventure with his lordship ended by mutual accord and within days he was in her bed. But when I learned he was going directly from Agatha’s bed to another’s, all the while professing his undying affection for her, it seemed my course was clear if exceptionally difficult.

I knew she would not take it well and indeed my fears were confirmed when …

      from
The Perfect Mistress,

the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury

“I have never known you to be indecisive,” Veronica said mildly and sipped her tea.

“It’s a very big decision,” Portia said. “She has three interesting offers and her future depends on which she picks.”

The three friends sat at their usual table at Fenwick’s. Julia thought they’d been lucky it was available. Four of the five tables in the tearoom were occupied by small groups of ladies very much like themselves. Fenwick’s tearoom was obviously proving to be a good investment.

Veronica’s brows drew together and she stared at Portia. “You’re being very practical today.”

Portia shrugged. “I am unfailingly practical.”

Veronica scoffed. “Not that we’ve noticed.”

“Which brings up an interesting matter,” Julia said, eager to change the conversation to something other than her own dilemma. “You have been behaving quite oddly of late.”

Portia’s eyes widened innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean you seem to have become an outrageous flirt,” Julia said. “We noticed—”

“Everyone noticed,” Veronica added.