Reforming the Rakish Marquess (Romancing the Ton #4)

Prologue

Mayfair, London

Juliana Fyfe watched Jude, Marquess Sandon, approach across the Fletcher’s ballroom. And she had come to know that look well. The devilish man had every intent of teasing her, as many of her friends had done as of late.

“Lady Juliana.” He bowed with exaggerated formality. “Might I have the honor of this dance before Lord Gordon finds himself on one knee?”

Edward, Viscount Gordon, stood at her side laughing. “By all means, dance with the man, Jules. I am quite certain the marquess isn’t marriage-minded.”

“Quite right.” Jude smirked, revealing the dimple in his left cheek that half the ladies of the ton sighed over. He offered Juliana his arm and led her onto the floor as the musicians struck up a country dance.

They moved through the opening figures before Jude leaned closer. “So, when is poor Gordon going to make good on a proposal? The entire ton is laying wagers.”

“Are they?” Juliana forced herself not to react, though she flushed. She’d known Jude long enough not to be shocked by his directness, but sometimes his green eyes held a wicked gleam that made her wonder about things a proper young lady shouldn’t.

Things like what it might be like to be ruined by a rake. Not that she had any intention of finding out. Jude was a friend, and Edward was… well, Edward was also a friend. But what they had was different.

“Don’t pretend your Mama hasn’t already started embroidering your children’s christening gowns.” He spun her through a turn. “I’ve wagered on next month. Perhaps I’ll influence Gordon to aid in my good fortune.”

She should scold him for being presumptuous.

Instead, she found herself studying the sharp line of his jaw, wondering idly why some men seemed built for sin and all things wicked.

While others, like Edward, were comforting and…

friendly. Not that any of those traits were problematic in a match.

God knew she’d had enough of dangerous charm after Lord Peel.

“You’re quiet,” Jude observed. “I’ve overstepped.”

“No.” She met his eyes. “You haven’t. I simply don’t know what Edward intends. We’ve never discussed the matter.”

“But you’d say yes if he asked?”

Would she? Edward was handsome, kind, one of her dearest friends.

When he’d pulled Lord Peel off of her when he’d attempted unwanted advances after luring her from a ballroom a couple months ago, he’d sent the blackguard running.

At that moment, she’d seen something in Edward’s face that made her feel protected.

Not protected as one might protect a helpless baby bird, but protected as one might guard something precious.

And he’d been a fixture in her life ever since.

“I think I would,” she said.

Jude’s expression softened. “He’s a good man, Jules. Better than most of us.” The dance ended, and he bowed over her hand. “We had better return. I’m certain he must be waiting for you.”

“You’re a good man, too, Jude.”

The subtle shift in his expression appeared as if he might argue, but then he urged her back toward their friends.

She gave Jude a small smile as he rejoined his friends nearby, and then she returned to Edward’s side. He immediately offered her his arm. “Shall we take some air? It’s grown rather warm.”

She nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. They made their way to the terrace, where the night air cooled her flushed cheeks. Several other couples strolled about, so they weren’t entirely alone.

Edward guided her to the balustrade, standing close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am, though Jude was rather ridiculous just now.”

Edward’s laugh was quiet. “Jude’s always ridiculous. What did he say?”

“He wanted to know when you plan to propose.” She watched his face for any reaction. “Apparently the ton is taking bets. Jude included.”

“Are they?” He didn’t seem surprised. “And what did you tell him?”

“That I didn’t know your intentions.” She paused. “Though I suppose everyone else seems quite convinced they do.”

He was quiet for a moment, tapping the stone. “Would it trouble you? If I did have such intentions?”

She studied his profile—the straight nose, the strong jaw, the way his mouth quirked when he was thinking.

He was handsome, certainly. Any woman would think so.

And since that awful night with Lord Peel, he’d become so much more than just handsome.

He made her feel safe after what could have been traumatic and ruinous.

He never failed to make her laugh. Surely that was a foundation for something deeper.

“No,” she said. “It wouldn’t trouble me at all.”

His hand covered hers on the railing, and she didn’t pull away. His touch was warm, steady. She wondered if, once they married—if they married—these friendly touches might become something more. Perhaps affection could grow into passion, given time.

“You’ve become very dear to me, Juliana.” His thumb traced a small circle on the back of her hand. “These past weeks, getting to know you… I count myself fortunate.”

“As do I.” Edward had reminded her that not all men were as dreadful as Lord Peel. More than that, he made her smile. Made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected. “You’re one of my dearest friends.”

“And you are mine.” He turned to face her fully, and there was something vulnerable in his expression. Something almost hesitant. “Might I call on you tomorrow? I have something I’d like to discuss in private.”

This was it, then. The question everyone expected him to ask.

And she was almost certain she wanted him to ask it.

Not with the desperate, all-consuming passion she might have once imagined for her future husband, but with something that felt more solid.

More real. Affection and friendship—surely that was enough to build a marriage on.

It was better than most ton marriages. And surely love would follow.

*

Juliana sat by the drawing room window, pretending to embroider while her mother chattered about the ball. Every time she glanced at the clock, only minutes had passed. Edward was coming today. And she suspected it was to ask her to marry him.

“Juliana, dear, you’re distracted.” Her mother set down her teacup with a knowing smile. “I wonder why that could be.”

“I’m simply tired from last night.”

“Mmm.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “Lord Gordon looked quite striking, didn’t he? And so attentive to you all evening.”

He had been attentive. He always was. When Edward smiled at her, she felt at ease. It was difficult to explain. She supposed it was love in a sense, but not what she had always thought love would be.

“Lady Juliana, Lord Gordon is here to see you.” Their butler’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Her mother stood immediately. “Please show him in, and have the tea cart brought.”

Juliana set aside her embroidery, smoothing her hands over her skirts. She couldn’t quite identify whether she felt nervous or eager.

Edward entered the room, and she took note of him as she had many times before—the way his coat fit well across his shoulders, how his blond hair caught the afternoon light.

Those blue eyes always held warmth when he looked at her.

He was attractive. And lately she’d been paying closer attention, studying the details as one might when trying to imagine a future.

“Lady Morley, Lady Juliana, how lovely to see you both.” He greeted her mother first, bowing over her hand before turning to Juliana. When he took her hand, his touch was gentle, polite as always.

Her mother caught her eye and raised her eyebrows as if she’d already planned the wedding breakfast. “Please take a seat, my lord. There is room for you just there by Juliana.”

Juliana bit back a smile. Her mother’s matchmaking efforts could hardly be more obvious if she tried.

Edward sat beside her, close enough that his thigh pressed against her hip. She thought the touch might have stirred something, but it was curiosity more than anything.

Once the tea was brought in, her mother poured for each of them.

Juliana tried to focus on the conversation.

Her mother chattered on about Edward’s family and the latest gossip, but Juliana wasn’t truly listening as her mind kept wandering to what might happen next.

Would he ask to speak with her privately?

Would he truly propose? And if he did, what would married life with Edward be like?

She thought of her parents, who still held hands when they walked through their gardens.

They still looked at each other as though they were the only two people in the room.

That was love. A real, deep, lasting love.

What she felt for Edward wasn’t that. Not yet.

But couldn’t it grow? He was kind and good, and she knew he always meant every word he said.

Surely affection and friendship and respect were enough to build on.

Surely love could follow, in time. That was the way of things, wasn’t it?

She could hardly sit still any longer.

“I thought we might take a stroll through the gardens, my lord,” she said, setting down her teacup.

“That would be delightful, assuming your dear mama doesn’t mind.” Edward flashed her mother his most charming smile.

“Of course. It’s lovely this time of year.” Her mother wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk now.

Edward rose and offered his arm. Juliana took it, acutely aware of the muscle beneath his sleeve. They walked through the terrace doors and down into the gardens, neither of them speaking until they were well away from the house. The roses were in full bloom, their scent heavy in the spring air.

“Your mother is not subtle,” Edward said, amusement in his voice.

“She’s never been one for subtlety.” Juliana glanced up at him. “She’s ready to have the banns read.”

“And you?” He slowed his pace, guiding her toward a bench beneath an arbor covered in climbing roses. “What do you think?”