Chapter Three
For the first time in recent memory, Julian had deeply enjoyed time spent at a Society function.
He didn’t consider himself unsociable nor disinclined to like gatherings.
He had found much in Society to keep his interest in the years since finishing his schooling.
But during the current Season, his first since completing his period of mourning for his grandfather, there’d not seemed to be a true place for him in London.
His family’s reputation had brought him to the attention of those with whom he didn’t care to keep company. And those whose company he felt he would have enjoyed kept their distance on account of his family’s reputation. Perhaps it was not truly boredom he’d struggled with but loneliness.
It was rather early the next morning when he ventured out on his reliable but aging horse. Keeping a horse was a costly indulgence, but he’d not yet been required to deprive himself of it.
The mornings were his favorite time to jaunt to Hyde Park.
It wasn’t nearly as busy as during the late afternoon and evening.
During the morning hours, he could take advantage of the relative emptiness and ride at an invigorating pace.
Or, on those mornings when Franklin joined him there, enjoy a conversation without struggling to be heard over the crush of people and carriages.
Though a bit tired from having been out late the night before, he rode alongside Franklin, discussing the events of the evening before.
“You stationed yourself beside her chair all evening?” Franklin repeated what Julian had just told him. “I believe the goal here is to distract from potential courtships, not accidentally entangle yourself in one.”
Julian shook his head. “There is nothing in the arrangement that would have given anyone the impression that I was courting her or that she was hoping I was. If anything, people will be confused that I was present at the gathering at all.”
“As confused as they would be if Lady Charlotte was actually giving thought to the possibility of a connection with Mr. Vernon?”
Julian shook his head. “That would be a mismatched couple if ever I’ve seen one, and I have most certainly seen plenty.”
They kept their horses to a very sedate walk, having undertaken a brisk walk earlier.
“Vernon is a decent sort, but he is something of a dullard.” Julian winced a little at hearing himself make so judgmental an observation. He had been the recipient of misjudgment in his life, people deciding who and what he was based on his family. He didn’t care to be the one doing that to others.
“I don’t know her overly well,” Franklin said, “but what I do know of Lady Charlotte makes me think she is not herself lackluster.”
“That is the impression I have. Indeed, if anything, she seems to work very hard at keeping what appears to be an active mind calm and quiet enough to endure the tedium of sometimes overly sedate gatherings.”
“What happened that you are not telling me about?” Franklin glanced away from the road and at Julian.
“Nothing specific that I can point to,” Julian acknowledged.
“More an impression. I inserted myself into the very mundane conversations that Mr. Vernon continually introduced, making certain my comments were neither insulting nor arrogant nor truly disruptive. Our goal, after all, is awkwardness. I feel I managed that.” He hated that he was in need of ￡1,000 enough to dictate his behavior to such an extent.
But there was no point denying his finances were not such as would pass muster.
“What impact did your awkwardness have?” Franklin asked.
“Rather than simply sensing the clumsiness of my company, she seemed to realize rather quickly that there was something odd in my behavior. There was such a look of intelligence in her eyes, as if I were a very complicated puzzle that she was interested in and capable of solving. Now and then, when I would make odd comments, a flash of humor would cross her expression. Mr. Vernon never seemed to bring anything to her expression other than . . . boredom.”
“You seem to have taken quite an interest in whether or not Lady Charlotte’s future is a happy one.”
Julian recognized the meddling tone Franklin was beginning to employ and thought it best to squelch such things quickly.
“I know what it is to be made unhappy by one’s family.
And, as someone has connected her fate with mine, I would feel guilty if that eventual outcome was in any way made less pleasant than it would otherwise be because of my behavior these next few weeks. ”
“Do you at least think last night’s efforts were useful?” Franklin asked. “I mean in terms of delaying the possibility of a wedding in four weeks’ time?”
Julian nodded. “There certainly were no opportunities for Mr. Vernon to have any more tender interactions with her. I can say with certainty he did not further any suit he might have been pursuing while I was there last night.”
Franklin nodded in obvious satisfaction. “Then, despite some setbacks, the evening was successful.”
On the surface, Julian would agree. And yet . . . “I had the very real impression that Lord Tarrant has taken a significant dislike to me.”
“Over the course of a single evening? Were you making yourself more obnoxious than you are admitting?”
Julian shook his head. “His demeanor was stiff and cold when I first arrived among them. It grew more so as the evening progressed. I believe he had decided to disapprove of me before he even knew I was going to be there.”
“That seems unlikely,” Franklin said, generous friend that he was. “I’m not saying it’s impossible for anyone to take a dislike to you; you are obnoxious, after all.”
“Then what is it you are saying, Franklin?” He pretended to be deeply offended by his friend’s declaration.
“As near as I’m aware, you have had very few interactions with the earl, almost none. For him to take such a dislike to you when you are not even acquainted is odd indeed.”
“If you ask me,” Julian said, “everything about this mess I’ve managed to toss myself into is strange.”
“Was Sir Duncan in attendance?” Franklin asked.
“He was, though I was spared the misery of actually speaking with him.”
Franklin pointed with his chin up toward Rotten Row. “You won’t be able to avoid that misery this morning.”
Sure enough, Sir Duncan himself was riding toward them.
The man was not a cad or a rake in the truest sense of the word, and it would be difficult to accuse him rightfully of anything that actually robbed him of his status as a gentleman, but he was arrogant and thoughtless, except in matters pertaining to his own enjoyment.
He was unpleasant but not cruel. He was the sort of person one avoided but wasn’t truly afraid of.
Unfortunately, he was also the very person who was about to undermine Julian’s peaceful morning.
He came up even with them, his mount wearing the same expression of self-importance as its rider.
“I didn’t realize you rose this early,” Julian said. “Most who were up late last night are likely still in bed.”
“That would explain why Mr. Daubney is here so bright-eyed.” Sir Duncan turned a slight sneer on Franklin. “I do not believe the Barrows extended an invitation to you.”
“How fortunate I am that the common folk are being admitted to the Brantleys’ ball this evening.” Franklin made the observation dryly, but with no indication of actual hurt.
“Oh, are the two of you meaning to attend?” Sir Duncan managed to make the question seem almost like mockery.
“We will weigh our many invitations against each other and make a decision when the time comes.” Julian steadfastly ignored the look of laughter in Franklin’s eyes.
“If you cannot stay up that late,” Sir Duncan said, “you might manage to drop in on an earlier gathering and preserve your energy for riding tomorrow, perhaps on two horses actually worth riding.”
“I’ve no arguments with my choice of horseflesh,” Julian said.
“Is this a horse?” Franklin asked in tones of mock stupidity.
Sir Duncan must have been terribly distracted by what he was about to say. He neither looked annoyed by Franklin’s dry humor nor offered any retorts of his own.
“Perhaps you would care to test your nags against my beast here. I paid a small fortune for him,” Sir Duncan said. “I can’t imagine either of you could say the same.”
It was certainly meant to be both a reflection on their horses, which, truth be told, were perfectly acceptable, and on their relative poverty, which Julian was too accustomed to now to let rattle him.
Franklin, whose family was doing perfectly fine, did not possess a pride so fragile that it needed defending against such a comment from someone he cared so very little about.
“A race would be an excellent idea,” Julian said. “To the end of Rotten Row?”
Sir Duncan appeared terribly pleased with himself. “I’ll make certain to congratulate the both of you when you eventually arrive.” He turned his horse in the direction they were meant to race. “I will allow one of you to give the signal to begin.”
Julian met Franklin’s eyes and could see they both had the same plan in mind. “I’ll give it. Steady. And . . . Begin!”
So Duncan set his horse to run. Julian and Franklin did nothing. They watched Sir Duncan earnestly participate in a race that was not actually happening, then they slowly turned their horses around and continued their slow ambling ride through the park.
Many gentlemen would not have been able to withstand the taunting or resist the chance to prove themselves.
Julian came from a family that was all but defined by horrid behavior, which had long ago scrubbed him of any unwarranted pride.
Franklin came from a family of means but unexalted standing, which meant he likely never developed arrogance to begin with.
As they rode away from the spot of Sir Duncan’s challenge, Julian realized that, not too far distant, riding sidesaddle on a cream-colored mare beside her father on a nearly matching mount, was Lady Charlotte.
And she was watching Julian with that same look of narrow-eyed evaluation he’d seen the night before.
And suddenly his bit of racing trickery began to feel like a bit of cowardice.
And that bothered him. Not that he didn’t undertake the race, but that this lady might think he’d been afraid to do so.
He, who seldom concerned himself with what a lady thought of him, found he rather deeply cared what this intriguing lady, connected to him by an anonymous wager and a bit of ridiculousness, thought about the person he was.