Free Novel Read

Tempting Juliana (Regency Chase Family Series, Book 2) Page 9


  The woman could be oblivious at times, but Juliana had found she could use that to her advantage. "Aunt Frances, have you met Lord Stafford?"

  James offered Frances a bow. "Good afternoon, Lady Frances."

  "Good afternoon, my lord." She looked at him sharply. "Did I see you at Lady Hammersmithe's ball?"

  "I had the pleasure of attending, yes."

  Frances's gaze grew more focused. At first Juliana assumed she was staring at the little V of exposed skin where James's shirt was unbuttoned, which Juliana found rather fascinating herself. Other than her brothers'—and they hardly counted—she'd never seen any part of a man's chest. Of course, her dress left much more of her own chest bare, but that was different. She had to force her eyes away from that intriguing bit of golden skin.

  But then she realized Frances wasn't specifically looking at that little V, and, in fact, her blue eyes had turned speculative behind their lenses. Dear heavens, her aunt must be wondering if James was her secret admirer! How oblivious could the woman get? She'd have to write another love letter from Lord Malmsey and sign his name to it this time—before Aunt Frances set her hopes on someone much younger and better-looking.

  A little gasp from James interrupted her thoughts. "Is that a snake in my reception room?"

  Across the room, the children were still gathered around Herman, enthralled, while Emily, in her glory, proudly lectured them on his care and allowed them turns to touch.

  Juliana smiled. "That's Viscount Neville's daughter, Miss Emily, and—"

  "Get it out of here."

  "No need to worry." The light in here was odd; James was looking rather pale. "It's perfectly harmless, Lord Stafford."

  "James," he corrected distractedly. "And I want it out. It's frightening the children."

  It was doing no such thing, but Juliana wasn't about to argue. She had much more important matters to discuss with him. "Aunt Frances, would you please take Emily and Herman outside?"

  Frances was still gazing speculatively at James. "It's dreadfully cold out there," she said without taking her eyes off him.

  "You can wait inside the carriage. I won't be long, I promise."

  "The neighborhood—"

  "The coachman and three footmen are there for your protection." Juliana took her aunt's arm and began easing her toward Emily. "You'll be safe. I'll be out in five minutes."

  Her gaze no longer focused on James, Frances consulted the little watch pinned to her dress. "You'd better not take any more time. The Duke of Castleton is calling at half past two."

  Following a short negotiation, Juliana finally shut the door behind Aunt Frances, Emily, Herman, and several children who refused to stay inside when there was a snake outside to admire. "Now, if I could have just a few moments of your time, Lord Stafford—"

  "James," he interrupted.

  "James." She looked around. "Is there someplace private we could speak?"

  THIRTEEN

  WONDERING WHAT Juliana wanted of him, James led her to an empty treatment room. He also wondered why the thought of Castleton calling on her was so annoying. It must be because Castleton was so very wrong for her. The duke was a prig; she was much too lively for such a stuffy fellow.

  Not to mention the prig wanted her only because she came with a celebrated racehorse.

  The treatment room held nothing but a chair and a table with the necessary implements, but Juliana glanced around as though she found it interesting. She was wearing a dress with a very tiny bodice.

  Well, in truth it wasn't any tinier than the bodices other young ladies of her class wore—high-waisted dresses with low necklines were in fashion, after all—but James wasn't used to seeing women in fashionable dresses at the Institute. The women who came to the Institute generally wore very frumpy clothes. He wouldn't have noticed Juliana's tiny bodice at a ball, but here at the Institute it made him suddenly—uncomfortably—aware that he was alone in a room with an eligible young lady.

  An eligible young lady he found entirely too attractive.

  He left the door open.

  "That child doesn't sound happy," she said, referring to the sobbing girl in the next room.

  "Dr. Hanley will give her a sugar stick."

  Sure enough, the sobbing stopped. Juliana smiled. "I love sweets." She handed him the small basket she was carrying. "I brought you these."

  He lifted the number 36 on top and peered underneath. Appetizing scents of cinnamon and raspberry wafted out.

  "They're Shrewsbury cakes," she said. "Chase ladies always bring sweets when we pay calls."

  "People don't generally call at the Institute."

  "It's not in a very nice neighborhood," she allowed. "Why is that?"

  "Those who live in nice neighborhoods are vaccinated by their own doctors. The patients we serve cannot afford to take a hackney coach to Mayfair."

  "Oh," she said, looking abashed. "That does make perfect sense."

  He offered her an amiable smile. "Have you been vaccinated?"

  She glanced warily toward the instruments. "Actually, I was variolated as a small child, before Dr. Jenner invented vaccination."

  Variolation was an older procedure, a method of taking pus from the pocks of someone suffering from smallpox and inoculating healthy people with it. James was both surprised and impressed that she knew the difference. Perhaps she wasn't quite as frivolous as he'd thought. "Where did you learn about Edward Jenner?"

  "I do read newspapers and magazines, and not just to see the latest fashions. It was quite brilliant of him to figure out that giving people cowpox could keep them from getting smallpox." She glanced toward the instruments again. "I don't need a vaccination, do I?"

  "Not if you were variolated. Smallpox variolation grants lifelong immunity. You're lucky you lived through it, though." Variolation usually caused only a mild case of smallpox, but about two patients in a hundred developed a severe case and died. Because those odds were much better than when one caught smallpox naturally—which carried a thirty percent risk of death—many well-informed upper-class parents did have their children variolated throughout most of the eighteenth century. But vaccination with cowpox was much safer.

  Juliana looked relieved. "Were you variolated as a child?"

  "No, but I was vaccinated while in the army. My commanding officer didn't want his men dying of smallpox." He set the basket on the table. "Can you enlighten me as to the nature of this unexpected call?"

  "Try a Shrewsbury cake." She waited while he chose one and took a bite. "I was wondering what you thought of Lady Amanda."

  He hadn't thought of Lady Amanda even once since Saturday's ball. "She's lovely," he said tactfully.

  Juliana beamed. "I'm so glad you think so."

  She was much more interesting than Lady Amanda. "That was delicious," he said, polishing off her cake.

  "Have another." She reached into the basket and put one into his hand. "Do you expect you might wish to marry Lady Amanda?"

  He nearly choked but managed to cover it with a cough. "I've only danced with her once," he pointed out.

  "Quite true," she admitted. "I expect you'll want to court her for a while before making such a decision."

  He didn't want to court Lady Amanda at all. But it wouldn't be very seemly to say that out loud, so instead he said, "Yes, one doesn't come to such a decision lightly."

  The yes was a mistake. Juliana's lips curved in a delighted smile. "I'm so happy to hear that. I've been wondering, though…since you spend so much time here at the Institute, have you much practice at wooing ladies?"

  "Practice?" What man needed practice at such a thing?

  "I just thought that since you've been too busy to court many women, it might help if I give you a few lessons."

  Lessons? "What sort of lessons?"

  "Have another Shrewsbury cake, will you?" She shoved the basket toward him. "The lessons wouldn't be very strenuous, I assure you. I'm thinking you could simply accompany me on a few occasions, such as
to the theater. I could show you the proper seats to purchase and what sort of refreshments to fetch for Lady Amanda during the intermission. And if we went riding in Hyde Park, I could point out the popular places and you could practice being gallant."

  James didn't know whether to be insulted or amused, but either way he was going to refuse her offer. Certainly he didn't need lessons in gallantry and wooing women.

  He hadn't taken a third cake, so she selected one for him. "The lessons won't require too many outings," she added soothingly. "After all, if plans with you fill my calendar, I won't be available for the duke to pay court to me."

  The cake halfway to his mouth, he froze. She thought she was offering him a favor, but actually, the opposite was true. If he played along, he'd be saving her from wasting her time with Castleton.

  She and the duke were extremely ill-suited. Nothing between the two of them could possibly work out. So therefore, by agreeing to her "lessons," he'd be doing her a favor.

  He did like helping people. It was very gallant.

  "Fine," he said. "When shall our first outing be?"

  She actually clapped her hands. "How about tomorrow? Are you needed here at the Institute?"

  "I have two doctors scheduled from ten o'clock to four, and another two from four o'clock to ten. So I should be able to get away."

  "Excellent. We can visit the shops and select a few gifts for Lady Amanda."

  Shops? He hated visiting shops. "I thought we were going to the theater."

  "I have plans for tomorrow evening, so our lesson will have to be earlier. Shall we say after luncheon, at one o'clock?" She smiled sympathetically. "Worry not, James. We'll be done in plenty of time for Parliament. Choosing a few appropriate gifts shouldn't take very long at all."

  FOURTEEN

  BEFORE THE duke left on Monday afternoon, he'd asked if he might pay Juliana another call on Tuesday. Two calls in two days! Since she already had plans with James at one o'clock, she'd suggested noon.

  Which is how it happened that, on Tuesday, as the duke was leaving and James was arriving, they crossed paths.

  "Castleton," James said with a curt nod.

  "Stafford," the duke returned. And with a stiff little bow, he left.

  As the butler closed the door behind him, Juliana turned to James. "Do you not like the duke?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know him very well. But he seems a bit stuffy."

  She was about to disagree when Aunt Frances came down the stairs, her footfalls so light she seemed almost to be skipping. A piece of paper fluttered in one of her hands. "Juliana! You'll never believe what arrived in the morning mail!"

  "What is it, Auntie?"

  "Another love letter from my secret admirer! Only"—as she reached the foyer, she paused for dramatic effect—"his name is no longer a secret."

  "Who is he?" Juliana crossed her fingers behind her back. "Is he anyone I know?"

  "Oh, yes," Frances said. "It's Lord—"

  She cut off, finally noticing James.

  Oblivious as always, Juliana thought.

  Two rosy spots appearing on her cheeks, her aunt clutched the letter to her bosom. "Good afternoon, Lord Stafford."

  "Good afternoon, Lady Frances."

  "Who's your admirer, Auntie? Lord Stafford will keep your secret."

  James nodded. "My lips are sealed."

  Though Frances hesitated a moment more, it was obvious she was dying to tell. She leaned closer to Juliana. "It's Lord Malmsey," she whispered, her lips curving in a thrilled smile that made her look ten years younger.

  "Aunt Frances, how wonderful!"

  "Isn't it, though?" Clearly Frances didn't mind Lord Malmsey's age or appearance. In fact, judging by her expression, one would think she'd been pining after the man for years. "I'm so glad you made plans to visit the shops this afternoon. I must order a few new dresses, and at least one must be ready by Saturday. Lord Malmsey indicated in his letter that he will be attending Lady Partridge's ball."

  James cleared his throat.

  "Yes?" Juliana asked.

  "I thought we were going to quickly choose a gift?"

  "Several gifts," she corrected. "You'll want an assortment so that you can give one to Lady Amanda every few days over the next two weeks."

  "Several?" He didn't look happy. "What happens after two weeks?"

  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

  He'd indicated he needed a while to court Amanda before proposing marriage, but a fortnight would have to do. With Amanda's wedding approaching, they simply hadn't any more time. Juliana had high hopes he'd win Amanda's affections by then, and vice versa, because the three of them needed time to plot Amanda's public compromise before she was married to Lord Malmsey.

  James still didn't look happy, though, and Juliana liked the people around her to be happy. "You won't mind if Aunt Frances orders a few dresses, will you? It shouldn't take long, and she'll be coming along in any case, to chaperone." Regardless of the fact that this outing with James wasn't romantic in any sense, it wouldn't do for the two of them to gad about town together unescorted.

  Before James formulated an answer, a knock came at the door. The butler opened it. On the other side stood a footman in Neville livery with young Emily. And Herman, of course.

  The pink parasol Emily was twirling clashed horribly with the olive green reptile. "Is it time to leave, Lady Juliana?"

  James took a step back. "Don't tell me she's coming, too."

  "I'm giving her lessons as well," Juliana explained. "In being more ladylike. An outing like this can be very instructional."

  In the gray light of the rainy day, he looked pale. "Surely she won't be bringing that snake."

  Emily stopped twirling. "If Herman doesn't go, I don't go."

  "That's fine by me," James said.

  He seemed unhappy again. Concerned, Juliana laid a hand on his arm. "James, do you not like children?"

  When he glanced down at her hand, she snatched it away, appalled at herself. Her hand was gloved, and his arm was sleeved, but it still wasn't proper to be touching him.

  And the look on his face was worrisome. Although she and Amanda had never discussed children, she was sure Amanda wanted some. Every woman did.

  "Of course I like children," he said. "I vaccinate children every day at the Institute."

  "Of course," she echoed, relieved. She should have realized that. "Amanda is good with children," she told him, remembering how well Amanda had handled Emily that day she'd bled.

  Motioning for him to follow, she stepped farther away from the little girl.

  "I know you're worried that some patrons of the shops might be upset by Emily's snake," she said quietly. "But that's the whole idea, don't you see? She needs to learn that it's not ladylike to carry a snake, and the only way that will happen is by demonstration. Once she's convinced that Herman upsets people, she'll realize she should leave him at home."

  "I see," he said tightly.

  They headed outside to where James's carriage was waiting. It was splendid—all polished rosewood and rich green velvet—and the pair of matched bays drawing it looked to be prime horseflesh.

  Juliana meant to sit beside Aunt Frances, but somehow she ended up beside James instead. Aunt Frances sat opposite James, with Emily catercorner from him. When he squished himself into the corner, as far away from Juliana as possible, she supposed that was to make sure he wouldn't touch her inadvertently.

  But then he kept touching her anyway.

  During the drive to Pall Mall, he touched her three times on the arm, in the bare area between where her short puffed sleeve ended and her short white glove began. The touches were all accidental and innocent, of course, but the little jolt she felt every time was…well, not bothersome exactly, but disquieting. Or exciting in an odd sort of way.

  Of course, she wasn't used to being touched by men. All those deaths in the family had kept her and Corinna from socializing for so long, she was certain she was the olde
st unkissed woman in all of England.

  Well, except for Amanda. And maybe Aunt Frances.

  In any case, she had to assume she'd feel this way if she were touched by any man. Most especially if she were touched by the duke. In fact, she was certain the duke's touches would be even more exciting, because, after all, he was the ideal man for her. But despite two social calls in two days, the duke hadn't touched her since they'd danced at the ball last Saturday night. And that had been over her clothes while they were both wearing gloves, which was quite different.

  He hadn't touched her bare skin. He hadn't even kissed her gloved hand. He respected her too much to do any such thing.

  He was as proper and reserved as Amanda, but he definitely wasn't stuffy.

  Aunt Frances was so anxious to order her dresses, Juliana decided they should do that first. Mrs. Huntley sighed when she saw Emily and her snake again, but after all, Juliana and Amanda had ordered a lot of dresses, and no shopkeeper with half a brain would turn away that sort of business. So she pressed her thin lips together and pulled out her measuring tape.

  "Sit over there, Emily," Juliana instructed, waving her toward where two chairs sat against a wall. "And James, you sit beside her. When you visit the shops with a lady, you must wait patiently until she's finished."

  "I'll wait outside," he said.

  "You shouldn't do that if you wish to please Lady Amanda. A man should appear interested in a lady's purchases."

  "I'll keep that in mind," he said, heading toward the door.

  "It's raining out there," she reminded him.

  "I won't melt."

  True to his word, James didn't melt. It took so long to order Aunt Frances's dresses that it had stopped raining by the time the ladies joined him outside. And he certainly didn't look melted—in fact, he looked like he might be frozen solid.

  Well, even if wasn't raining, it still was quite cold.

  "Where to now?" he asked dourly.

  "I believe you should send Lady Amanda some flowers." Juliana indicated a florist's shop across the street, and they all started toward it.