Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 17
“Really?” Barden drawled, amused. “Since when?” He still thought he had won.
“Since dinner,” Dan said.
Blindly, she took his arm before he offered it and walked away with him.
“Juliet, you’re trembling,” Dan murmured in quick concern. “Where can we go?”
“Out of here,” she said intensely.
He let her lead them toward the open drawing room door. Flicking the fan dangling at her wrist, she tried not to waft herself with too much agitation. Other people, mostly the older men, were standing around in the gallery, talking. On the other side, a small salon was being prepared with extra refreshments and supper.
“More food?” Dan said. “Where on earth will we put it?”
“The evening is young,” she babbled, leading the way in.
The servants were busy there, of course, but at least there were no guests to see as she pushed open the connecting door to the salon beyond and closed it with a gasp of relief.
“Juliet, what is wrong?” Dan demanded, urging her away from the door toward the window seat. The moon through the window was the only light in the room. “What did he do?”
“Do? Nothing, I suppose. It’s what he says. He assumes I will marry him and be grateful because there are no other options!”
“There are always other options.”
“Jeremy,” she said in despair, sinking onto the window seat. “Or ruin.”
“Oh, no, that card is played. If your ruin is declared somewhere, no one’s paying any attention. Your life is not over, Juliet. You don’t need to choose between the weasel and the snake.”
She gave a shaky laugh and dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. “You’re right, of course. Barden has done his worst, and I’m still dancing.”
“That’s my girl. We’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again this evening, and then you must tell your father about his behavior. Nothing, surely, would induce any father to give his daughter to such a man.”
“Barden looks upon it as justifiable revenge because my father won most of his fortune from him. But you are right. I do need to talk to Papa. I don’t even know what was said between them, though they went into the library together this afternoon.” She straightened her shoulders and cast a quick smile up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a-a drippy person.”
He grinned and put his arm around her shoulder in a brotherly hug. “I know you are not. You have an indomitable spirit and brighten everyone’s life.”
“Even yours?” she teased.
His lips quirked in an expression she didn’t quite understand. “Even mine.”
“Nonsense. It’s you who always brings cheer, even when I know you’re not cheerful yourself.”
His smile faded. “And whatever leads you to imagine that?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I know you feel things deeply.”
Subtly, the character of the once brotherly embrace had changed. “Do you?” he said deliberately. “Such as what?”
“Concern for your mother, care for your grandfather’s people…”
“And for you?”
She searched his face. “You have been a good, kind friend to me.”
“Have I, Juliet?” He threw his head back against the folded shutter with a half-laughing groan. “I have to stop acting from impulse. Look, I shall go back first and watch for you from the door so that you’re never alone where Barden can get to you. Wait about five minutes so no one connects our reappearance.”
He was right, of course, Being discovered here was fresh ruin. She tried not to be disappointed and simply nodded. “Very well.”
He put his finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his searching gaze. “You will be fine now?”
Her gaze dipped to his lips, fascinated by their texture, and their movements as he spoke. “Of course I will.”
“And the next dance is mine?”
“If you still wish it.”
His breath caught. The finger under her chin moved, caressing, and was joined by his thumb. “Oh, the devil,” he muttered and kissed her.
She opened to him with a sigh that was almost relief. She touched his face with wonder, loving the faint stubble beneath her hand. It was a gentle kiss, sweet and exploring, and her whole being seemed wrapped in its glow.
He raised his head.
She swallowed. “Was that comfort also?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “That pretense is long gone.” He swooped, capturing her mouth again in a swift, sensual kiss that parted her lips and then left them.
“Stop putting ideas in my head, Juliet Lilbourne,” he said with mock severity.
“I never said anything.”
“You don’t need to. That’s the trouble. Five minutes and I’ll be watching.”
When the door closed, she reached up and touched her lips. They were smiling. And somehow, she no longer cared about Barden’s distasteful talk, or his vile assumptions, or even about his villainy. Because somehow Dan’s kisses raised her above it all.
*
He was as good as his word. She spent a moment in the supper room with the servants, deigning to approve their arrangements, then poured two glasses of lemonade, one of which she would pretend was for her mother since it was a good excuse to be out of the drawing room alone.
She arrived back just as the country dance was ending. Dan stood with Ferdy and a couple of other people near the door. Anne was hurrying toward them.
Dan smiled at Juliet, just as if he hadn’t kissed her only minutes before. “My dance, still, I hope?”
“Of course, let me just take this to Mama—”
“I’ll take it,” Ferdy offered, taking one glass off her hands.
She thanked him and sipped from the other, smiling at Anne. Beyond her cousin, she noticed her mother. She wore a faint smile, as she often did when she had stopped listening to the conversation but wanted to pretend she was still interested. Her eyes darted now and again, always in the same direction.
Juliet followed her glance and saw her father, seated beside Dan’s mother, deep in conversation.
She dragged her gaze back to Dan. “Is it a waltz?” she asked brightly.
“I hope so,” Dan said. “I bribed the fiddler with a secret glass of champagne.”
Juliet laughed and set down her glass to accompany him to the dancefloor.
The contrast between her last dance and this one could not have been greater. Both comfortable and thrilled in Dan’s presence, she welcomed his embrace for the dance, rejoiced in his nearness, the very scent of him.
And of course, it was fun. They exchanged banter and simply talked together as they hadn’t been able to since the days of their secret walks. And all the time, her heart beat faster, and her whole body thrummed with awareness of him. Some huge idea was forming in her mind, but she refused to dwell on it for fear of spoiling the moment. After all, on either side of the present lurked all the disagreeable anxieties involving ruin, Barden, and her broken engagement.
But for now, she lost herself in the exhilaration of the dance, turning and swaying to the beguiling rhythm in the arms of the man who made her feel safe and alive. Her friend.
Toward the end of the dance, he was silent and thoughtful, glancing often toward the curtained windows.
“What is it?” she asked at last.
He sighed. “I’m talking myself out of my current impulse.”
“Which is what?”
“To dance behind the curtain, kiss you, and dance out again with no one noticing.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Could such a thing be done?” she wondered while excitement and pure mischief soared at the possibility.
“The first part could.” His gaze rested on hers, warm and unusually intense. “Which is so desirable I don’t want to consider the inevitable discovery. I don’t know whether you’re making me staid or insane.”
“I don’t believe you can blame me for either. Though I doubt anyone would call you staid.”
Somehow, it thrilled her that he did not laugh. “It’s a bit of a novelty, this,” he observed. “Thinking ahead. Thinking of other people. I expect I’ll tire of it, soon.”
“Is that a warning?”
He considered. “Yes. But you don’t need it, do you? You think for yourself.”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
A breath of laughter escaped him. “Neither am I. But God help me, I do like dancing with you.”
She smiled up at him, and his fingers tightened on hers before relaxing again. And then the music came to a close. He bowed with a flourish, and she curtseyed in the same style before taking his arm without thought.
Her mother announced the refreshments in the supper room while the musician enjoyed a rest before the final dance of the evening. Which gave Juliet an excuse to stay longer in Daniel’s company.
In the supper room, they encountered Hugh Ames, resplendent in a sky-blue waistcoat with bright yellow embroidered butterflies.
“Lady Juliet,” he beamed. “I hope I have not missed my chance of dancing with you. Have you promised the final dance?”
“Why no, not yet,”
“Then, may I?”
“Of course. I would be honored.”
“Oh, and have you met my father?” he added, indicating the older gentleman next to him who was systematically filling his plate.
“I believe we were introduced in the crush of everyone’s arrival,” Juliet said. “I hope your evening has been agreeable so far, Mr. Ames?”
“Most agreeable,” he replied, pausing to bow over his plate to her. “It is the first evening I have been able to enjoy since I arrived. I have had a terrible cold. But this is most pleasant, most pleasant indeed.” His gaze flickered over Dan. “May I help you to supper? Better still, let Hugh while I give this to my wife.”
“Oh, no, carry on, sir. I prefer to help myself, and if I can’t reach, I shall command Mr. Stewart.”
“Good luck,” Mr. Ames said vaguely.
“It always amazes me,” Dan observed as they strolled back to the drawing room with their plates, “how two such vague creatures as my aunt and uncle, could have given birth to someone as precise as Hugh.”
“Your uncle does not like you,” she observed.
“None of them ever liked me. They like me even less now I’m supposed to inherit Myerly. Except, Hugh, who is the best of them, in my opinion.”
“I danced with your other cousin. He was most amiable.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
Since Kitty waved to her, she went to join the group of young people surrounding her. In an informal huddle, she finally felt part of her old group of childhood friends again. But somewhere, she knew that her contentment had much to do with the man at her side.
Dan’s cousins joined them for a time, but Jeremy did not. Neither did Barden, who had not come near her again, although he did not look remotely downhearted as he sat talking to her mother, or strolled about the room with Lord Alford.
And then came the final dance, which Kitty had chosen to be a waltz, of course. She stood up first with Lawrence, and Juliet smiled to see them so happy. She gave her hand to Hugh and enjoyed the final dance of the evening. Apart from the rocky patch in the middle, with Lord Barden, it had gone so much better than she had expected.
In fact, as her gaze fell on Dan, who was clearly amusing Mrs. Coates, the vicar’s wife, with some tall tale or other, her heart filled, and she wondered if she would ever be this happy again.
“Do you know,” Hugh said, “the shade of your gown is perfect with your eyes?”
“Thank you. I have to compliment you on your stunning waistcoat.”
He smiled. “Delicious, isn’t it? I have a coat the precise shade of this yellow, but it is more suited to morning calls.”
“Then I hope you will grace us with one before you leave Myerly.”
“Anything for you, dear lady.”
Juliet laughed. Like his cousin Dan, Hugh did not take himself too seriously. But unlike Dan, she sensed he was playing a role, that of empty-headed dandy. A social convenience, perhaps, to cover a natural shyness?
The dance came to an end, amid mingled cries of disappointment and applause for the fiddler, who bowed and effaced himself. Juliet stood with her family in the entrance hall to bid their guests farewell, for apart from her uncle’s family, the Alfords, the Kings, and Lord Barden, their guests were all traveling home.
The carriages were summoned, and the servants were kept busy carrying cloaks and hats and finding outdoor shoes. Juliet yielded her place as eldest daughter to Kitty and stood a little farther back, so that anyone who wished to pretend not to see her could do so. Nobody did. But that may have been Mrs. Stewart’s fault, for she went right up to Juliet to shake hands.
“I hope we may meet again, Lady Juliet,” she said with a smile.
“So do I. When do you leave Myerly?”
“Wednesday. I have commitments in London. Such a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Goodbye!”
Behind her came Dan.
“How will you all get home?” Juliet asked. “Will you young men climb onto the roof?”
“I did suggest it, but Colin won’t play, and Hugh is too concerned for his coat. So, the carriage will take all our parents and come back for us.” He smiled politely, but the soft words breathed through his teeth still reached her. “Meet me.” And his eyes flickered to the left. To the side door.
There was no time to reply or even think, for Dan was already wishing Kitty happiness, and the vicar’s wife was shaking her hand. “So good to see you, my dear…”
Dan would, surely, have to wait an hour for the carriage to return. His cousins clearly were in no hurry to leave the house for the chill of the evening. But Dan, after seeing his mother into the carriage with her sisters and brother-in-law, would wait outside. For her.
Her heartbeat quickened. Why? Had he learned something important? Was he in trouble of some kind, or just wished to talk? Whatever the reason, she knew she would not refuse him.
When the last of the guests had departed, save the Myerly cousins, Ferdy hailed the young men off to the salon for a final brandy. Her parents and Kitty returned to the drawing room to say goodnight to their overnight guests.
Juliet had been sent to her chamber so often since coming home that no one noticed she did not follow Kitty upstairs. Instead, she walked across the hall toward the back of the house and swept up her old cloak from the stand under the staircase. She turned into the dim passage that led to the side door. Fortunately, there was enough light filtering through from the hall.
She could hear the servants’ voices calling to each other as they carried what glass and crockery they could to the kitchen. But they used their own staircase, and there was no one to see her, or even hear her draw back the bolts of the door and ease it open.
She stepped outside, opening her mouth to whisper Dan’s name, but without warning, was seized against a man’s hard chest, and his mouth devoured hers.
She did not need light to see that it was him. After the first tiny instant of shock, she knew him by his very scent, by his feel, and by the angle of his mouth as it claimed hers. With a gasp that was almost a sob, she threw both arms around his neck and gave herself up to the embrace.
Something was different this time. He wasn’t just giving in to sudden impulse. He had planned this; he had arranged it because he wanted to hold her and kiss her. The knowledge was intoxicating. Her mouth opened wide under the onslaught of his, and she adored the caress of his tongue and even his teeth. It was as if he kissed her with all of him. His body wedged intimately with hers, beginning to move, stroking her in the same rhythm as his wild kiss.
Her knees buckled. Only his arms kept her upright. But as he drew back, as if afraid of hurting her, she pulled his head down again and kissed him, pressing herself against him in blind, half-understood need.
Finally, the sounds of voices filtered through her sensual haze. The grooms and stable boys going home… He must have heard them, too, for abruptly, he whisked her back inside the house and closed the door by leaning on it. All without breaking the kiss.
Laughter broke from her, and his lips smiled on hers, slowly releasing them. His arms were under her cloak, one palm flat across her semi-naked back, the other resting intimately on her hip, burning through the thin silk of her gown.
“I have to stop kissing you,” he said huskily. “Or we have to talk.”
“Talk,” she said and kissed him again.
He deepened it for a breathless moment, sweeping both hands over her body, then held her close and pressed his cheek to hers.
“Soon?” he said.
“Soon,” she agreed, smiling, for washing through her was the knowledge that had been growing since she’d met him.
His thumb touched her lips, even as he fumbled open the door behind him, and stepped out, drawing it closed behind him.
She blinked at the door, for tears had started to her eyes, and yet she wanted to laugh and run and shout with joy. For this was what she had been struggling with all week. What she had waited for all her life without even knowing.
Love. I love Dan.
Chapter Sixteen
How can I not have known before?
She laughed at herself as she ran back across the hall and up the staircase. Because I have not yet known him a fortnight! Can one really fall in love so quickly?
There were no rules. She could not deny the way she felt. She reminded herself that two weeks ago, she had imagined she loved Jeremy. That had been an illusion, pleasant while it lasted. This—this overwhelmed her, consumed her.
And yet in another two weeks would this illusion not have faded too?
Her lips, the lips he had kissed, curved into a smile of self-knowledge as she slipped past the drawing room door. Inside, her mother and aunt were talking. Everyone else, it seemed, had gone to bed.
“My dear, it was a long time ago,” her aunt’s voice soothed. “I cannot imagine him carrying a torch for her still. Not when you and he have a lifetime together, three beautiful children…”
