The Rake's Redemption Page 5

  Breakfast, anticipated so anxiously by Juliana and Dominic, passed in the same congenial fashion as the day before. The constraint that had made her fainthearted when she entered the small private parlor slowly disappeared as she listened to Freddie again complaining about Timmings’s absence. How silly she had been to suffer through such a long, sleepless night! Dominic, too, was the same charming man who had rescued them two days ago.

  He treated her with consideration and reserve, if she thought his eyes deepened when they looked at her, if she imagined the lines had softened around his mouth, then that was all a hum. After all, he was a great lord and had probably kissed many girls in the moonlight. Aunt Sophia had at least warned her about that. Nothing had changed except in Juliana’s mind. Obviously the accident and Dominic in the garden had affected her more strongly than it should have. After all, she was not a miss suffering her first kiss in the moonlight either! She did not know what she had expected this morning, but it was not this pretense, so artfully done, that nothing had happened between them last night.

  But perhaps he was right. It was only a kiss. She would never allow herself to acknowledge the truth. New and frightening emotions were now a part of her world, and they had been born in the marquis’s arms.

  Juliana determined to put this confusion behind her by staying well out of the marquis’s path, until a sudden spring thunderstorm kept them all indoors after luncheon. When Sophia suggested they play a hand of whist, Freddie, grinning widely, hastily produced playing cards and placed four chairs around the small square table in the private parlor.

  “You have found the way to Freddie’s heart, Sophia,” joked the marquis, looking at his friend with amusement. “If the London belles used your method, then perhaps one of them could bring him up to snuff.”

  “Bring him up to snuff?” Sophia inquired innocently. “Lord Liscombe is still unwed?”

  “Good God, ma’am, I should say, indeed!” declared Freddie in horrified tones.

  The marquis looked at Sophia’s blank face in admiration. “I also share Freddie’s sad plight,” he murmured.

  Sophia’s dimple appeared and she had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

  Juliana was mortified. Her aunt had been uncharacteristically forward and Dominic obviously knew what was on her mind. Brooding in her own miserable confusion, Juliana had forgotten her aunt’s interest in Dominic and his matrimonial status. She certainly hoped he was not conceited enough to imagine that his eligibility was of the slightest interest to her! Especially after allowing him to kiss her. Of course, with his looks women had no doubt been throwing themselves at his feet for years, so it could not be wondered at if he had a terribly swelled head.

  His shapely head appeared to be just the right size and attached firmly to his broad shoulders; he played whist with the same sangfroid she had first noticed about him. Only in the garden last night had it seemed to slip.

  Nevertheless Juliana found him an entertaining partner and an astute player, and she had played since she was old enough to count. Her father had often asked her to fill a table once he discovered she had a good memory and a quick mind.

  She was blissfully unaware that Dominic was making a careful effort to please and to keep the atmosphere in the inn relaxed and informal.

  Freddie, however, had not been fooled. Amused, he had taken Dominic aside earlier. “Dom, never seen the master rake at work in this style before. Surprised at the gentle tone of your flirtation. If I didn’t know you better, think the lovely Juliana had caught your fancy.”

  Dominic had shrugged it off then, but truth to tell he didn’t quite understand himself the reasons for his uncharacteristic behavior.

  Glancing over the rim of his cards, he caught Juliana staring intently at her hand while her small white teeth raked her full lower lip. In the garden when he had succumbed to the need to take her in his arms and taste the sweetness of those lips, he had been unprepared for the depth of emotion she stirred in him. So stirred, he admitted ruefully, that he had retreated back behind his walls of defense. He had been told too many times for it to hold any meaning that his charm was lethal, but he sensed that Juliana had not fallen victim to it in the usual fashion. Careful, my lord marquis, he mused, you are dangerously close to falling victim to her charm. Looking at her lovely face, the soft cheeks slightly flushed with excitement, and having the dreary afternoon lightened by the musical, rippling sound of her laughter when she found the right card, caused Dominic, connoisseur of beautiful but heartless women, to want to believe that perhaps he had been wrong, that despite the past a woman could be trusted.

  Juliana glanced up at exactly that moment, and the expression in Dominic’s eyes caused her to cease thinking for an instant as if someone had doused her with ice-cold water. She was so bemused she did not notice the commotion coming from the hallway until the door burst open. Only then could she tear her gaze away from the marquis’s face.

  The loud argument in the hallway shattered their peace and privacy, when a corpulent woman, wearing a voluminous red cape glistening with raindrops, pushed open the door and disdainfully scanned the room. “I told you so, Charlotte! I just knew that was the Vane carriage in the Wainwright’s yard as we passed!”

  Sophia gasped and fell back in her chair. “Good God! It is Lady Grenville and Charlotte!”

  Lady Grenville’s protuberant eyes darted around the room taking in all of the occupants until coming to rest firmly on Sophia’s face. “What is the meaning of this, Sophia?” Shifting her gaze to Juliana, she puffed her heaving bosom even higher. “And you! You should know better! A member of my own family alone in an inn parlor with these … these … men! Have you an explanation for this outrage?”

  Dominic, resigned to the loss of this idyll, smiled quite naturally before stepping forward. “Ma’am, I am the Marquis of Aubrey. May I be of service?”

  Lady Grenville’s face turned an unhealthy crimson before she screeched at the top of her lungs. To everyone’s shock, she cast herself into Dominic’s arms. He staggered only slightly under her considerable weight.

  “Dominic, my dear, dear boy!” she boomed only a bare inch below his right ear. His magnificent blue eyes flickered once as she continued to embrace him before tearing herself away to grasp the arm of the tall, slender, fair girl standing behind her. “Charlotte, come meet your cousin Dominic!”

  Her flushed face beaming, Lady Grenville gave a breathy cry of delight when her daughter, in a spring muslin with a flounce of blond lace at the hem, walked forward. “I barely recognized you!” she continued loud enough for the postboy to hear. “You have changed so since we last met at Culter Towers.”

  Dominic’s brows went up, but he gave no other sign of surprise, merely bowing over Charlotte’s hand, saying, “How do you do, Miss Grenville. May I introduce Lord Freddie Liscombe.” Smiling, he looked at Juliana and she moved to his side. “Of course, Juliana is known to you.” Dominic glanced around at Sophia who seemed rooted to her chair. “Sophia, are you all right?” asked the marquis gravely.

  “How could I not have seen it?” Aunt Sophia stood and stared at him. “You are the Duke of Culter’s grandson!”

  “Of course, he is dear Austin’s grandson,” Lady Grenville said, a haughty look descending upon her chubby features. “I am quite sure you have heard me mention their graces many times these past four years!”

  “Many, many times,” Aunt Sophia muttered, and Dominic’s lips twitched appreciatively when she brushed pass him to place two warm kisses on both of Charlotte’s pale cheeks.

  Juliana stole a glance at the marquis. He endured a stilted conversation with Lady Grenville, whom he was assisting to a low couch beside the fireplace, when she admitted a slight faintness at discovering her dear cousin Dominic so unexpectedly.

  Propping one broad shoulder against the wooden mantel, he apologized for not recognizing h
er, since he had only been an infant of nine months upon the occasion of her last visit to Culter towers.

  He smiled across the small, cozy parlor at Juliana sharing the joke. She felt warmth flush her cheeks, but unconsciously she lifted her chin when she met a steely stare from beneath Lady Grenville’s thin brows.

  “I see you have already made the acquaintance of our neighbors,” Lady Grenville said in a brittle voice. “Juliana is the widow of Will Grenville, the late Sir Timothy’s only son.” Twittering in a breathless little voice, her tight mouth twisted in a sly smile. “The Willows belongs to Sir Alfred and me now, you know.”

  Deep within him Dominic’s heart gave one strong stroke as if on an anvil. Will Grenville’s bride? The woman he had idealized from all the stories he had heard around the camp fire. This was her, that picture of perfection that Will had drawn while he lay dying in Dominic’s arms? It couldn’t be! Jealousy rose like bile in his throat. She had belonged to someone else. Why had she led him to believe she was a Thatcher? If only he had known she was Will Grenville’s bride, he never would have kissed her—never would have violated the memory of Will calling for his beloved Ju. The man Dominic had become did not deserve such a woman.

  If she had not been so aware of him, Juliana would have missed the change that came over Dominic. One instant he was propped against the mantel, long legs braced apart, watching her with apparent delight, and a moment later those wonderful eyes somehow lacked their previous warmth and, although his expressive lips still smiled, there was a difference—the smile was distant and strained.

  “My condolences, Juliana.”

  He spoke in a gentle voice that held a trace of something she couldn’t quite recognize, but it made her reply terse.

  “Thank you.”

  Freddie shook his head, a wrinkle creasing his brow. “Will Grenville … I knew him on the Peninsula, remember Dominic? Nice young chap with the unruliest mop of ebony curls I’ve ever seen.”

  Juliana’s eyes flew to Freddie’s face. “You were on the Peninsula?”

  “We both were. Dominic was a part of Wellington’s family. General staff you know. Mentioned twice in the dispatches. I had no such luck, being sent home before Badajoz with a fever.”

  “Yes,” Juliana nodded, the tightness in her throat causing her voice to break a little. “Will died at Badajoz six years ago.”

  Where was the teasing, affectionate consideration that Dominic had given her so freely and effortlessly since they first met? And something more that she refused to put a name to? He appeared like a man preoccupied with a longing to be elsewhere, but too well-bred to appear bored. It was not her imagination, for Freddie looked so decidedly uncomfortable he ran one finger around his high shirt collar, and Sophia’s serene gray eyes held a look of curious concern.

  “Come, Mama. Let us freshen ourselves,” Charlotte suddenly spoke, moving to her mother’s side.

  Lady Grenville was totally unaware of the strange tensions in the room, for she opened her mouth to protest, but Charlotte got a firm grip on her arm, and with a cool nod to both gentlemen, led her protesting parent away.

  “Did you see that!” Freddie breathed in an astonished voice. “Girl hasn’t said a word since she walked in the door. Now she’s ordering her mother about!”

  “Charlotte is a young woman of few words,” Sophia said calmly, her eyes still studying Dominic’s stony profile. “But her timing is flawless.”

  Several hours later, the marquis steadied his grays as they sprang forward after a brief stop at the last tollgate on the London road. The twilight was gone and a strong breeze brought the smell of dirt and the damp chill of spring.

  “It ain’t that I’m not eager to get to town,” continued Freddie, who had occupied himself ever since they left the Blue Boar in complaining about their abrupt departure. “I can’t think what’s come over you! Told the ladies we were staying and then you up and leave as soon as the Grenvilles arrive. Thought her ladyship would have an apoplexy when you said there was no need for us to stay as you knew she’d wish to convey Sophia and Juliana to London herself!”

  Dominic grunted but said nothing more, his attention remaining firmly on the road. In fact, he had had very few words to say in the last several hours.

  Not a man to be put off, Freddie glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Juliana is certainly a diamond of the first water. Didn’t realize she was a Grenville. I thought she was a Thatcher like Sophia. Remember on the Peninsula how that young cavalry lieutenant, Will Grenville, talked about her and their land in Berkshire?” Freddie shook his head, smiling. “Brought a few tears to my eyes sometimes, remembering home. Glad I met her before she reached town. Lay you a wager she’ll be all the rage within a fortnight!”

  Dominic smiled, but it was strained, not in his usual way at all. “Yes … I feel sure Juliana will take.” His voice echoed the shock gripping him.

  Freddie peered at him. “Devil!” he said with great feeling. “Forget about your preference.”

  “Which preference do you speak of?” asked Dominic with quiet cordiality. “My unexplainable preference for your questionable company, perhaps?”

  “You prefer your women with experience. Safer I guess. But not widows. Can’t understand that! Remember it struck us all as strange when the Duke of Cumberland stuck his spoon in the wall, you didn’t give that delectable widow of his a second glance. Every man in the ton wanted her. She wanted you. And you not interested! Stands to reason Juliana isn’t in your line. A dazzler, but fades besides the Duchess of Cumberland,” said Freddie with brutal frankness.

  Dominic was hardly aware of his friend’s chatter, for the truth was finally penetrating through his shock. The warm, vibrant woman he had held in his arms was Juliana Grenville! He had thought the fates had played their last cruel trick on him, but he had been wrong. Oh, yes, he remembered Will and the stories that had brought tears to Freddie’s eyes.

  Dominic had been at the slaughter that was Badajoz. He had sat in the oozing mud, listening to the death groans of men spread across the battlefield, captivated by the over bright smile on Will’s face as he had clasped Dominic’s hand.

  “Worst battle yet, but one good thing’s come out of it. Think this wound will send me home to my Ju. Can’t wait to see her red mop and take her down to fish again.” He’d risen slightly on one elbow, so far gone he didn’t even realize his legs had been shot away. “She’s beautiful, Aubrey, yet daring. You should have seen her the day she outraced me to the pond and her horse balked, sending her head first into the stream. She rose with the water cascading down her gown and blushed to see me stare at her. God, she was beautiful.” He had slipped back into Dominic’s arms. “Ju, Ju, are you there?” Dominic’s embrace tightened to give comfort, and Will smiled, the mist closing over his eyes.

  Dominic had sat for long moments cradling Will, whose company had attacked the enemy’s most heavily defended position, and their charge had helped swing the battle to the English side. But at too deep a price. With horror growing all around him, he had wondered how, so far from home in such a hellish death, Will could have died with the sweet vision of a woman his last thought.

  Bright and shining in the dim recesses of his memory, he had kept an image of Will Grenville’s young wife to combat the horror of war and the lingering agony of Culter towers. Only his half brother, Jules, knew the secrets they had vowed to bury along with their parents. In those moments when Dominic had felt his life was changed forever, he had demanded of Jules that neither of them ever marry.

  Lately though, his grandfather had convinced Dominic that it was his duty to carry on the line. He had allowed himself to be convinced, for, tainted though he may be, his grandfather’s blood also ran in his veins and that was worth preserving. He had supposed that someday he would find someone he could tolerate and who would be satisfied with only a crown of strawberry
leaves, for he believed he had nothing else to give and was no longer fit for any woman who expected more. Juliana had destroyed that belief for a moment. But, of course, she would, she was Will’s Ju. She could bring solace even amidst the horrors of war. To have at last come face-to-face with his elusive memory and know he must in no way reach out to her, was the greatest irony of his ill-fated life.

  “Dominic, what the devil is ailing you? Do you agree or not?”

  With an unpleasant twist to his firm mouth he finally glanced at his best friend. “Concerning my taste in women? How astute you have become, Freddie. My congratulations.”

  Freddie shrugged, completely ignoring his sarcasm. “I like widows myself, they know what to say to a man. Not like those simpering misses straight out of the schoolroom, like that Charlotte Grenville.”

  “That Charlotte Grenville, I very much fear, is the distant relative my grandmother has been hinting would make me an unexceptional marchioness.”

  “Thinking of falling into parson’s mousetrap are you, Dom?” asked Freddie with a worried glance.

  For a fleeting instant a picture of Juliana rose in his mind.

  “No!”

  “Wouldn’t want to go against your grandmother, the duchess, if it was me. Forceful woman your grandmother. And your grandfather!” Freddie shook his head, shifting restlessly upon the curricle seat. “He’s a match for anyone! Even heard Prinny say he could make him feel like a schoolboy again.”

  “Ah, but I have advantages you and the Prince don’t possess, Freddie,” Dominic drawled. “Their graces and I are very much alike.”

  The shutters on Mrs. Forbes’s wide kitchen windows were flung back and sunshine left large warm patches upon the stone floor. Sophia placed the last jar of elixir in the willow basket Robbie had provided her with this morning. She turned to Mrs. Forbes, who was sitting before the crackling fire drinking some hot potion from a cup.