Chapter Fifteen #2
Wearing the most elaborate of her new gowns, Baxter having taken special care to arrange her hair in a more sophisticated style, she felt she looked her best as she descended the stairs to meet Rafe, who awaited her in the entry, resplendent in his black evening attire.
How handsome and commanding he looked, she thought, her heart swelling with pride and affection. A momentary shiver went through her, the thought that she must be living a dream, that she couldn’t truly have wed this man.
‘I feel like Cinderella going to the ball with a handsome prince,’ she told him as he took her hand to lead her to the waiting carriage.
He laughed. ‘Just remember you will not be turning into a ragged waif at midnight. Nor are you permitted to run off and abandon me. I’ll need an excuse to escape the card room or avoid being pulled into a long rehashing of what was discussed at today’s Parliamentary session.’
‘I’m pleased to be your excuse,’ she said, as he handed her in.
‘What you promise me for later is far more alluring than any drink or chat I could be offered at a ball,’ he murmured as he took his seat beside her. After the footman closed the door, he kissed her cheek as he slipped a hand beneath her cloak to run his fingers slowly over her breast.
She sighed, leaning into his touch. ‘Must we stay until midnight?’
‘Perhaps not. Until the first supper is served, at any rate. The Rousleys’ balls are always a grand crush. Most of the others will dance, drink and play cards until dawn, but I think we can steal away.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
A short time later, they joined the slow procession of elegantly garbed guests making their way upstairs to the ballroom.
After passing through the receiving line, they eased into the crowded ballroom where, as Juliana expected, Rafe was soon surrounded by government colleagues congratulating him on his entrance into the Lords.
He was able to procure her a glass of wine and turn her over to one of his army friends before the political gentlemen bore him off, with a promise to return to claim her for the dancing.
Juliana chatted idly with several of the other guests, glancing frequently over to the ballroom entrance—and was finally rewarded by the sight of Claire and Hart, greeting their hostess. She was about to be gauche enough to wave at her, when Claire, scanning the room, saw her and smiled.
Juliana uttered a sigh of relief as her friends approached.
‘Rafe carried off by the gentlemen of the Lords?’ Hart asked.
‘I was afraid he might be. Nothing so appealing to a long-time member as bending the ear of a newcomer. I’ll let Claire keep you company and go in search.
I promise to rescue him in time for the dancing. ’
‘He did promise to return by then.’
‘I’ll make sure he does.’ Giving Claire a kiss on the cheek, he walked off through the crowd.
Claire pulled out her fan and plied it. ‘I don’t know why hostesses seem to delight in inviting far too many people to balls like this. The room is stifling already, and the ball’s hardly begun.’
‘I suppose she doesn’t want to leave out anyone and run the risk of offending someone.’
‘Perhaps. It’s even worse when the ball is given by someone with government connections.
One must include all one’s own supporters and a fair number of the opposition.
As well as, of course, those who are socially prominent or come from important families.
’ She shook her head. ‘Give me a small rout-party or musical evening any day.’
‘Or a nice, companionable dinner,’ Juliana agreed.
Snagging a glass of wine from a passing waiter, Claire said, ‘Shall we look for a quiet place out of this crush? We can chat until the dancing begins.’
‘You don’t want to circulate and speak to the other guests? I wouldn’t hold you back if you wish to socialize. I can find a quiet spot on my own.’
‘No, I shall have to play “Duchess” at some point this evening, but I’d rather put it off until later.’
‘Then I’d be happy to join you.’
They made their way across the crowded ballroom, Claire doing her best ‘Imperious Duchess’ imitation, nodding royally to those who greeted her but allowing no one to detain her.
Having discovered an anteroom occupied by only a quietly chatting foursome, Claire led Juliana to the sofa in front of the hearth in which a cozy fire burned.
Seating herself, she took a long sip of her wine.
‘What a gauntlet,’ she said with a sigh.
‘But we should have a half hour or so to have a quiet chat. How was the Royal Academy Exhibition? I should think you very much enjoyed it.’
‘Wonderful! I’m not sure what I was expecting, but there was such a great variety of art.
Everything from paintings to drawings to sketches to architectural drawings to sculpture.
Some works by artists so famous, even I had heard of them.
Other works by ones I’ve never heard of.
Even works by ladies! Including some marvelous drawings.
’ She laughed. ‘Fish. Butterflies. Even a housefly. Probably not drawings others would find remarkable.’
‘I’m so glad you found works you could admire.’
‘Oh, so many! I could have lingered for days, studying technique. As it was, we spent far more time there than I intended. Rafe was so kind, never complaining a bit, though I’m sure he was longing to leave far sooner than I.
So kind, in fact, that after having a break for tea at Gunters, he took me to Turner’s Gallery—and let me purchase two wonderful engravings. ’
‘My, that was indulgent.’ Claire gave her a naughty glance. ‘I hope he was suitably rewarded for his gallantry.’
Juliana felt her cheeks pink. ‘I gave it my best efforts.’
‘Ah, I hear the orchestra tuning up. We’d better return to the ballroom so our errant husbands can find us for a dance.’
They deposited their glasses and made their way through the crush back to the ballroom. Claire, with the advantage of height, was able to spot Hart almost immediately and wave him over. He nodded, then made a motion towards an anteroom.
‘He’s going to rescue Rafe and escort him to the ballroom,’ she interpreted. ‘I expect they should return in time for the first dance.’
Rafe did return to claim her, squeezing her hand and giving her a smile so tender and admiring, she felt a wave of emotion she made no attempt to quell. How could a look be more loving? Surely it wasn’t just her imagination that he was regarding her with more warmth.
‘Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?’ he asked as he led her to take their place in the line. ‘I’m the envy of half the men in the ballroom. And if the gentlemen knew your sterling character, I’d be the envy of them all.’
It was nonsense, of course; there were several dozen females in attendance who were vastly more beautiful, but tonight Juliana didn’t intend to worry about truth. If her handsome husband wanted to compliment and flirt with her, she intended to just enjoy it.
‘It’s more likely that I would be locked in the Ladies’ Retiring Room by females wanting to steal you away, the new earl and newest member of the House of Lords.’
‘Then we shall agree we are both very lucky. Luckier than I ever expected to be.’ He gave her another smile of bone-melting tenderness before bowing, as the figure of the dance was about to begin.
Her heart soaring like a butterfly in a sunbeam, Juliana enjoyed the dance as never before, and the next, a waltz, even more.
Rafe whirled her around the room, holding her scandalously close and murmuring outrageously naughty suggestions in her ear as to how they might utilize the couch in the anteroom, the table in the refreshment room, or the benches on the moonlit terrace outside the ballroom.
‘Seriously, though, you enchant me, you know that, my Mouse? My naiad and nymph. I can’t imagine how I managed before I brought you into my life.’
Smiling, she reveled in the feel of his arms surrounding her.
She felt valued and cherished as never before, almost fizzy with wine and happiness.
When the waltz ended, he led her into the refreshment room, refusing to let any of the other guests waylay him, responding to greetings and invitations to tarry with a smile and a shake of his head.
Reaching the table full of delicacies, he filled a plate for her and whisked her into a quiet corner, where he fed her tidbits, promising later, when they were finally alone, he would pay homage to her in other, more intimate ways.
But he was an earl, and he did have social duties, which inevitably made their claim on him. Ceding when one of his Parliamentary sponsors begged him to attend him, he walked her back to Claire, before, with a wry grin, going off with Hart to some consultation.
‘We got a few dances, anyway,’ Claire observed as the men walked away.
‘Shall we have any others?’
‘Probably. But in the meantime, we should punish them for their desertion by dancing with every gentleman who asks us.’
Juliana imagined Claire would have no lack of partners, but was surprised to discover she was sought-after as well. The positive effect of having the friendship of a Duchess and an earl who seemed to dote on you.
Did he dote on her? Was he finally, finally about to cross the line from friendship into love?
Had his attentions tonight not been ardent enough, whether or not he ever voiced feelings she yearned for him to express? Putting a halt on her fervent imagining, she told herself not to hope for anything more.
Feeling suddenly fatigued, she refused her next partner and made her way to the chairs at the edge of the ballroom, where after the next dance, Claire joined her.
As they chatted, a group of late-arriving guests entered the ballroom, one of them a tall, graceful lady who was one of most beautiful women Juliana had ever seen. Curious, she leaned over to ask Claire who it was.
‘The Countess of Altorn. She married a duke’s heir somewhat older than herself. Now that she’s delivered him an heir and a spare, they usually go their separate ways, I’m told.’
A chill settled in the pit of Juliana’s stomach. ‘Th-that’s the Countess of Alcorn?’ she stuttered.
‘Yes. Have you met her?’
From Claire’s disinterested tone, Juliana surmised that Hart’s wife was not aware of Rafe’s previous attachment. ‘Not yet,’ she said faintly.
At that moment, Juliana spied Rafe walking back into the room. Before she could signal to him, the group around the beautiful newcomer laughed, drawing his attention.
He stopped short in mid-stride, freezing in place.
As he stood staring at Lady Altorn, the shock on his face turned to an expression of such anguish, Juliana felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.
Nausea welling up, she stood abruptly. ‘Suddenly I feel so warm! No, don’t get up. I must… I must get some air!’
Stumbling in her haste, Juliana wove her way past the mingling guests until she reached the doors leading on to the terrace.
Bursting outside, she searched for the stairs into the garden, running down them not a moment too soon before she found a shadowed spot behind some shrubbery and leaned over, retching.