The Rake's Redemption Page 9

  “Pardon me, Dominic. But the music has stopped you know,” said a crisp strong voice behind the marquis.

  Juliana gazed around in surprise to discover the ballroom had fallen silent and that most of the dancers had already left the floor.

  Dominic dropped his hands, stepping back from her. A tall, slightly graying, solemnly dressed gentleman with a distinctive military bearing stood beside him.

  “I beg both an introduction and the next dance with your charming partner,” the stranger requested quietly.

  Dominic seemed to hesitate for the space of a heartbeat before bowing over her hand.

  “Juliana Grenville, may I present William Seymour, Lord Edgemont.”

  Her curtsy was as natural as breathing, but she was giving the gentleman in front of her little thought, for she was still dazed by what she had seen in Dominic’s eyes.

  “A pleasure.” Presenting his arm in a stiff, decorous manner, Lord Edgemont smiled charmingly. “May I have the honor of leading you out for the next dance?”

  Juliana wished she and Dominic could be back in the garden at the Blue Boar, alone. For a moment the wall he had erected between them had fallen. She would have liked to explore the strange vulnerable being visible only momentarily, but he was gone.

  Hardening her resolve, she remembered her plan. This man was not vulnerable, just another rake who knew women’s softness and played fast and loose with all of them, even herself.

  “I would be delighted, sir,” Juliana answered, forcing herself to smile at Edgemont. Before she accepted his arm, she couldn’t resist another look up at Dominic, scanning the perfection of his features, seeking a glimpse of the man she had so briefly seen. He was gone.

  “Thank you, my lord marquis.” She steeled her voice. “I enjoyed our waltz.”

  For an instant she thought he would respond with nothing but a cool nod, but instead she saw the Dominic who had walked with her in Mrs. Forbes’s garden, as his wonderful smile transformed his face.

  “I too, Juliana.”

  Why did he play this game with her? First he was one man and then another. She wanted to stay with him, to talk to him, to touch him again. But there was nothing to do except place her hand upon Lord Edgemont’s sleeve and allow him to lead her away into the next set.

  From the side of the ballroom Dominic watched as Edgemont led her through the patterns of the country dance.

  “Didn’t take him long.” Dominic glanced around as Freddie’s strolled up, a half-empty champagne glass held loosely in his fingers. “Heard he was on the lookout for a wife. The late Lady Edgemont left a brood of five children in Dorset they say.”

  “Shouldn’t listen to idle gossip, Freddie,” Dominic said absently watching Juliana grapevine, toe point, and cross to the music.

  “Don’t. Just thought I’d warn you on the chance you’ve changed your opinion of dashing young widows.” Freddie searched Dominic’s face carefully. “Watched your dancing. Never saw you hold anyone so correct and careful. Never saw you treat any woman with consideration for their reputation before. You had a certain look I’ve never seen before. Except with Juliana.”

  “I haven’t changed, Freddie.” Turning away from the dancers, he took the champagne glass, tossing the contents down his throat, and placed it back in Freddie’s hand. “Ah … the delectable Dora has just arrived. I mustn’t keep her waiting.”

  Juliana glanced back to where she had last seen Dominic, but he was no longer there. Crossing to the next form, she turned to face her partner and over his shoulder she saw Dominic with Lady Dora Stanwood. The raven-haired beauty was laughing and nearly leaning against him, giving him every opportunity to view her indecently shallow bodice.

  The look on Dominic’s face was one of sensual pleasure. There was nothing of the vulnerable man who had so deeply touched her heart as they danced. Juliana missed a step, but quickly regained it and her senses. Lonely and sad … the Marquis of Aubrey! Obviously it had all been the trick of candlelight. He was indeed the heartless flirt Freddie had described to her, and it would give her great pleasure to put him firmly in his place!

  After hours of pretending to Aunt Sophia, to Lord Rodney, who curiously enough remained firmly attached to her aunt’s side, to Lord Edgemont, to Freddie, and to everyone else that she had never spent a happier evening in her life, Juliana had a raging headache. She watched without pleasure as Dora Stanwood demonstrated to the ton that Dominic was hers. He did not seem to be objecting. In fact, he was positively encouraging her advances. No doubt that was the way of notorious rakes.

  Forcing herself to look away from where Dominic, his golden head bent, concentrated on something Dora was saying, she tried to focus on Edgemont, who had kindly produced a glass of lemon squash for her. He was the perfect man. A titled widower with children and a home to care for. Just what she had come to town to find. He certainly seemed smitten with her, dancing every dance allowed and taking her down to dinner. He was charming and handsome in a dignified, soldierly way. He had been speaking to her for the last few minutes and she had not the vaguest notion as to what they were discussing. Why didn’t he just go away and leave her alone for a few minutes? Would this evening never end?

  Late that night, mercifully alone at last, Juliana sat before her mirror in a light shift while she carefully pulled at the narrow turquoise ribbons still threaded through her curls.

  Without knocking, Sophia opened the bedchamber door and entered, closing it behind her.

  A small half smile curved her mouth as she came forward to the dressing table and sat on the small rosewood chair beside the mirror.

  Juliana watched her out of the corner of her eye while continuing to tug at her ribbons. “You certainly look pleased with yourself. I must say I don’t blame you. Lord Rodney is charming.”

  “Yes, he is, my dear. In fact, I have quite made up my mind to marry him this time.”

  Juliana dropped her hairbrush, and several crystal bottles adorning her dressing table rocked precariously and then tumbled over.

  Sophia laughed. “The expression on your face, love, reminds me of young Ben’s when Dominic gave him the gold coin for attending to his horses.”

  “Are you sure, Aunt Sophia?” Juliana leaned back in her chair.

  “Of course, I’m sure. Rodney obviously needs me. If he doesn’t call a halt soon, his corset won’t even be able to contain him.”

  “Aunt Sophia!”

  Her aunt nodded solemnly. “I heard it creak when he sat down. He tried to cover it with a cough but failed.” Her lips became a firm line and there was a certain glow in her usually calm eyes, which Juliana knew from past experience did not bode well for Lord Rodney.

  “Within six months of my care he will have no need of his corset. Then he will have some semblance of his old looks back. He was once nearly as devastating as Dominic. In fact, I fancied myself in love with Rodney until dear Cornelius arrived in town and literally swept me off my feet.”

  “Uncle Corny!” Juliana squelched a nearly overwhelming desire to laugh. Uncle Cornelius had looked less like a romantic hero than anyone she had ever seen. Just a bare inch or two taller than her aunt, he had had a slight physique, thin hair, and nearly colorless eyes. Juliana had loved him dearly, but she could hardly credit Aunt Sophia choosing him over someone as dazzling as Dominic.

  Her aunt obviously saw the disbelief on her face. “I know it is difficult for you to understand, dear. But sometimes there is a certain attraction between two people that has nothing to do with their looks or their station.”

  “Remember, I’ve been in love and married myself,” Juliana reminded her gently.

  “For exactly eighteen days to a boy who was like a brother to you.”

  Juliana felt heat rise in her chest. Not only did she possess her father’s red hair, but also his temper.

 
“I assure you that we did not live as brother and sister for the short time we were together! I have very special memories of our marriage,” she replied in as angry a voice as she had ever used to her beloved aunt.

  “Do you plan to live on those memories for the rest of your life? Because quite frankly they make for rather unsatisfactory bedfellows,” Sophia said with a sternness that stung Juliana into replying even more sharply.

  “I have said I would find a husband, haven’t I?”

  “Oh, yes … your lonely widower.” Aunt Sophia continued to observe her closely, her voice softening. “Edgemont, perhaps. But he would never replace Will, would he? You would do your duty, of course, but you would never give him any part of yourself that you gave Will.”

  Juliana wanted to look away from her aunt’s knowing eyes, but her pride wouldn’t allow it.

  “No one can ever replace Will, Aunt Sophia. I promised his father I would never forget him. It is the least I can do since I failed them both by not producing an heir.”

  “If that is so, what do you intend to do about the Marquis of Aubrey?”

  Juliana did look away then, straightening the crystal bottles and ribbons strewn across her dressing table.

  “Dominic has nothing to do with it.” She shrugged. “I cannot imagine why you ask.”

  “Can’t you? I’m not blind. He affects you. I saw it at the inn and again here in London. But never so clearly as when you danced tonight. There was a moment when you both looked so … vulnerable.” Then Sophia had glimpsed it, too, that searing pain and loneliness on Dominic’s face that made Juliana want to cradle him against her breasts to soothe away all the hurt. Lifting her chin, this time she did not flinch from her aunt’s gaze.

  “I am not vulnerable to the marquis. I will admit that I found him entertaining at the Blue Boar. And he was kind to us there, but obviously because he had nothing better to do. For you must agree that his behavior has changed since we arrived in London. In fact, I find his treatment despicable. Which only proves that he really is a conceited flirt and a rake. I refuse to let him get away with his shabby treatment of us. I plan to put him in his place!” Folding her hands in her lap, Sophia frowned. “You have surprised me, Juliana.”

  “I know it is an entirely unworthy goal I’ve set myself, but do not try to dissuade me, Aunt!”

  “No, my dear, I would not think of trying. But my surprise stems from something quite different.” Sophia rose, gathering her gown tightly around her. “ I have seen you infatuated, as you were with Will from the time you were thirteen years old. I’ve seen you glowing with excitement the few weeks you spent together as man and wife. And I’ve seen you totally indifferent to suitor after suitor. But I have never, never seen you so passionate about anyone or anything as you are about Dominic.” At the door Sophia turned back to her, her gray eyes wide and thoughtful. “I think, my darling, you should give serious thought to just where in your life Dominic’s place is. And whether or not he has already a place in your heart.”

  Juliana sat stunned as the door closed behind her aunt until a fiery rage ignited within her. With a swipe of her arm she sent the hairbrush flying against the wall. “This time, Aunt Sophia, you are wrong! I won’t forget Will! Not for Dominic! Not for anyone! I promised…”

  Memories crowded into her mind: Will with his ebony curls and deep brown eyes, Will, whom she had loved. He had in his shy-boyish way stirred the only embers of passion she had ever known until now. It was a gentle warmth that memories of Will, his father, the Willows, and Wentworth Park brought. Only since she left Berkshire had she felt this restlessness, this yearning for something more.

  Shaking her head, she peered at her reflection and lifted her left eyebrow while lowering her right, a trick which had always made Will and her family fall into fits of laughter. She needed to be reminded of those happy, carefree times. She smiled. “Just remember who you are, Juliana Vane Grenville. And what you set out to do. Place George firmly in the bosom of the ton. And find a nice comfortable widower so your brother can get on with his own life. Nothing has changed! Nothing!”

  She opened her jewel box and took out the gold locket, carefully scanning Will’s likeness. Yes, it was just as she recalled. For one sickening instant she had not been able to see him clearly in her mind. She must never allow that to happen, for she had given her word. Father had taught her well: the Vane word of honor was not given lightly.

  Chapter 6

  It was an unusually animated Rodney Crawford who hammered on the Vane town house door two days later. He was reluctantly joined by his amused nephew. A smile curled Dominic’s mouth for he had never seen his uncle so excited. Not at a mill when his man was winning, not even at cards. Nothing that Dominic could remember had ever brought this particular look to his uncle’s face.

  The urgency of Rod’s knocking did not cause the door to open with more than usual dispatch. The imperturbable Smithers opened it with no trace of having hurried.

  “If you will wait in the small parlor, Mrs. Thatcher will receive you momentarily,” Smithers said as he ushered them into the comfortable room Dominic had visited once before.

  Dominic looked at the bountiful flower arrangements and lack of clutter that so clearly represented Juliana’s hand; he was consumed with schooling his demeanor, determined that his carefully cultivated facade would not slip. Once again he was subjecting himself to sweet torment, like a moth battering itself against the window at twilight desperate to reach the candle flame that would consume it. He was many things, but not a coward. That was why he had agreed to the morning call with Freddie, and again today with Rod. His walls of defense were built high and strong, fortified over the years of passionless embrace with many women who had never touched him except physically. This one woman would not breach them and so he would prove to himself. There was enough honor left to him that he knew what he must do.

  Sophia found Dominic leaning against the mantel dressed with careless elegance in a chocolate brown coat, whipcord breeches and tan leather boots; while Rodney, splendidly attired in correct morning clothes, reclined uneasily upon a narrow bench, which sagged a little with his weight. He rose with remarkable agility when she entered.

  “Sophia…,” Rodney breathed her name once as if it were a greeting, and reaching out, raised her fingers to his lips.

  “Your servant, Sophia,” Dominic said to her, a complacent smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.

  Sophia sank down upon the settee and Rodney joined her, once again retaining her hand between his large palms. She sighed. “Please excuse my niece for not attending you, but we have an illness in the house.”

  “Juliana?” asked Dominic sharply, all trace of satisfied boredom suddenly gone. “Is she ill?”

  Sophia hesitated, studying him for a moment. “No. Although she will be if she does not give over some of our nursing duties. It is young Ben, the postboy … perhaps you remember him from the day of the accident, Dominic?”

  “Carrot-topped lad? Face full of freckles?”

  “Yes. He is Benjamin’s only son. His mother died last spring. Juliana is quite fond of him … as she is of all the children at the Park. Insisted on moving him down to the spare bedroom next to her own, and is nursing him herself. She has hardly slept since he fell ill.”

  Rodney stroked her hand, which Sophia found surprisingly soothing. “Has a physician been called?” he asked.

  “Last evening. He calls back today. He said all the spots should be out by then. But the fever is still raging … I trust you have both had the measles?”

  “Yes, in the nursery. You had them, too, Dominic. I remember you were one big spot.”

  A light smile played at the corners of Dominic’s lips and he laughed. “I can’t recall, Uncle.”

  “Take my word for it, my boy. Your mother cared for you with just such devotion as Julian
a is giving young Ben.”

  Sophia saw it again, just as she had in the parlor of the Blue Boar Inn. One moment Dominic was leaning leisurely against the mantel, a self-assured smile on his appealing face, and the next instant there was something in his eyes and a tightness across his lips that she did not understand.

  His beautifully shaped mouth curled into a sneer. “Hah! Motherly devotion from Leticia! Surely you jest, Uncle. She was much too busy with her lovers!”

  Sophia’s gaze was fixed on Dominic’s face, and she felt the flush creep up her cheeks when she saw his cornflower blue eyes darken to almost navy in disgust. “The black widow did not nurse her children. She destroyed them,” Dominic declared fiercely.

  His words hung, echoing like distant thunder on a sultry summer night when the air is heavy and one can feel the power of a storm building all around. Sophia’s face must have mirrored her horror at his words, for suddenly he was staring appalled into her startled eyes, and without a word of regret, he turned and walked quickly from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

  “Damn my fool tongue!” In a rough voice Rodney broke the spell.

  Sophia looked at him, trying to gather her thoughts and make some sense of all Dominic had said, and all that had not been said, but that could be read in the shadows marring his face. “I do not understand, Rodney,” she said softly.

  “Of course, you do not, my dear. I hardly understand it myself!” His harsh voice betrayed the depths of his feelings, but seeing Sophia’s shocked face his expression softened. “It was nothing you did. It was me. I should never have mentioned his mother. It was my mother that nursed him, of course. Leticia didn’t come near the sickroom for fear she would be infected. Or Jules.”

  “Jules?”

  “Dominic’s older brother by five years.” Frowning, Sophia shook her head. “Older brother? Then how is Dominic the marquis?”