Tis the Season to Be Sinful Read online

  “Her brother-in-law is old needle-nose?”

  “Who?”

  George grinned. “That’s what we called him at school. Because his nose is so absurdly pointed it looks like the end of a needle. I remember he had a younger brother. Harold? No, that’s not right. Henry. Pleasant fellow. Excellent horseman and far more likable than old needle-nose. I seem to remember reading he died a few years ago.”

  “Four years, actually,” Richard supplied.

  “Where did you meet her?”

  “In the country. I traveled there intending to purchase a property only to discover it could not be sold unless the earl approved.”

  “Which he wouldn’t do,” George concluded. “So instead of buying the estate, you decided to marry for it?”

  “In a way,” Richard said ruefully, not liking how that sounded. “It’s complicated.”

  “These things usually are,” George replied sagely. “Though I wonder if you got the better end of the bargain. Women can be downright draining on a man’s wallet.”

  “Juliet is not an opera dancer who needs to be showered with an exorbitant allowance and expensive baubles,” Richard retorted. “Besides, I can well afford to keep a wife in luxury.”

  George looked at him speculatively. “Ah, so now we get to the heart of the matter. Well done, Richard.”

  “What the devil are you babbling on about, George?”

  “The fair Juliet. Clearly you have a great affection for her, if you are willing to spend so lavishly for her comfort. Tell me, was it love at first sight?”

  “What?”

  “No need to be embarrassed, my friend,” George said cheerfully, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s about time you had some real happiness in your life. A bit of lighthearted fun with a woman you love is exactly what you need. Though I would strongly advise against having carnal relations in your conservatory, unless you lock the door first.”

  “George, you are an imbecile.”

  “Spoken defensively by a man in love.”

  Richard gave him a disbelieving glare. “Damn it, George, I don’t know what has gotten into you this evening. How could I possibly fall in love with a woman I barely know?”

  “It happens all the time. Well, sometimes. I think.”

  “Rest assured, that is not the case.”

  “Ah.” George was silent for a long moment. “Of course, it will become a very sticky problem if suddenly falling in love is the reason Juliet accepted your proposal. My dear friend, you do not want to be tied to a lovesick woman. Trust me, it can be embarrassingly painful.”

  Richard raised his eyebrows. A most fascinating story was contained in that last sentence, and though he was curious, he was more interested in understanding George’s warning about his upcoming marriage.

  “Is there a point to your ramblings or do you merely enjoy hearing the sound of your own voice?” Richard asked.

  George sighed patiently. “My point is that men are logical by nature—well, most of them—and women are illogical. Their heads are far too often filled with ridiculous notions of love and romance. If Juliet agreed so readily to the match, it is possible she might have done so due to some misguided notions of living happily ever after in loving marriage.”

  Richard shook his head vehemently. “She is not a young, innocent girl with a head full of dreams. That’s the main reason I chose her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am,” Richard replied, ignoring the tug of concern. Heaven help him if George were right. “You’ll come to the wedding?”

  George leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Richard, my good friend, I would not miss it for all the champagne in France.”

  Chapter 5

  Juliet smoothed her silk skirt one final time, then threaded her fingers and stood staring blankly at the drawing room door. On the opposite side of the room, Reverend Abernathy sipped his second cup of tea and conversed congenially with Mrs. Hazard while Squire Dudley stood with Mr. Barclay. Her girlhood friend, Harriet Moss, who had kindly agreed to be her attendant, acted as hostess, flitting from guest to guest, trying to keep the mood festive.

  The children, each dressed in their best clothes, were sitting restlessly together on the gold brocade settee. Mrs. Perkins stood a respectful distance behind them, her eagle eyes trained upon their every move.

  The drawing room was filled with a profusion of flowers, freshly cut this morning and artfully arranged by Juliet. The dining room chairs had been pressed into service and were arranged in two neat rows facing the long French windows. The sun was shining through those windows, brightening everything inside.

  There was only one thing missing from this lovely wedding setting. The groom.

  The clock ticked loudly on the mantel, an ominous sound. Mr. Harper—Richard—was late. The ceremony was due to start at one o’clock. It was now two and there was no sign of him, nor any message of explanation for his delay.

  Juliet smiled, trying to put on a brave front, fearing it was a wasted effort. Everyone knew he was late; even the children were beginning to suspect something was wrong.

  Though she tried to prevent it, her fingers moved to the nape of her neck, twirling the few loose strands of hair that had escaped from their pins. Dear Lord, she was nervous. Was this a sign? A message that she was about to make the most impulsive, foolish mistake of her life and the good Lord was giving her time to correct that mistake, to stop herself before she took a step that she would regret for the rest of her life.

  Gerald had come to see her a few hours after the first banns had been read at the Sunday church service. His spiteful words and predictions of her future misery now echoed in her head despite her best efforts to ignore them.

  “Can we eat the cake now, Mama?” Lizzy asked. The sight of the lovely two-tiered confection that Mrs. Perkins and Cook had so kindly made held endless fascination for Juliet’s daughter. Lizzy had not ceased asking about it since she saw the treat early that morning.

  “We don’t eat the cake until after the ceremony,” Edward scolded his younger sister.

  “Edward is right, sweetheart,” Juliet said soothingly, brushing the long, blond curls off Lizzy’s shoulder. “It won’t be much longer until we can taste the pretty cake.”

  Or would it? What if Richard wasn’t coming? Juliet swallowed uncomfortably, feeling slightly nauseated at the thought. She had written to Richard about Gerald’s visit and within the week had received a letter stating that Gerald would relinquish his guardianship of the children upon her remarriage.

  Though lacking any specific evidence, she knew Richard had arranged it. The letter had been a comfort, an assurance that marrying him was a wise decision. Initially she had agreed to Richard’s proposal out of fear, desperate for the financial security and independence he could provide. She told herself she was doing this for her children, to provide a better life, to protect them from the earl.

  But it was not only obligation. As she and Mr. Barclay had planned this wedding, there were moments when Juliet felt hopeful and optimistic. This was a new beginning, a chance for a more fulfilling, happy life.

  Mr. Barclay approached, his expression deliberately calm. Juliet had come to like the young man during these past few weeks. She appreciated his assistance and efficiency and would miss him when he took his leave of her after the wedding.

  If there was a wedding.

  “I’m sure Mr. Harper will be here soon,” Mr. Barclay said, consulting his pocket watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

  “You don’t think he got the date wrong, do you?” Juliet asked. She loathed the tremor in her voice, loathed feeling this sense of panic.

  Mr. Barclay’s eyes widened in horror. “Mr. Harper carefully consults his calendar every day. Several times a day, in fact.”

  Though the answer did little to appease her nerves, Juliet swallowed back the lump of panic. Fifteen more minutes. She would wait fifteen more minutes before calling it off and sending h
er guests home.

  The seconds seemed like minutes, the minutes hours. The few select guests at last abandoned all pretense of being occupied and waited quietly while Juliet battled to control her wayward thoughts.

  The clock struck the half hour. She sighed, struggling to compose an announcement ending this farce. “Dear friends, I would like to thank you—”

  “He’s here!” Mr. Barclay’s scream of excitement interrupted Juliet’s pitiful statement. Which was just as well, considering she didn’t know precisely what to say.

  A breath swelled up from Juliet’s chest as Richard stormed into the room. “I’m so sorry. That damn train was late again! I knew we should have traveled by coach, but it was raining buckets this morning and George swore the roads would be mud pits.”

  Richard paused to glare at the gentleman following closely behind him. The man returned the look steadily, before glancing around the room. He then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Calm down, Richard. I believe you are frightening your lovely bride.”

  Juliet eyed the stranger thankfully. His interruption gave her a much-needed moment to marshal her wits and grasp the idea that there truly was going to be a wedding.

  “You were delayed by the train?” she asked, loud enough so the audience of curious onlookers could hear.

  “Blasted thing! I don’t know how the company stays in business, running such an ineffective operation,” Richard concluded with a huff.

  “I suppose you’ll just have to buy the railway and fix it,” Richard’s companion drawled lazily. “But for now there are far more pressing matters to address. Introduce me.”

  Richard placed a hand on the small of Juliet’s back. The warmth of his hand, felt through the fine silk fabric, was oddly comforting. “Juliet, may I present Lord George Moffat. He has agreed to be my groomsman and stand up with me.”

  Juliet executed a graceful curtsy. It was immediately obvious that Lord George was an aristocrat to the bone, from the top of his perfectly styled dark hair to the tip of his exquisite leather shoes. She wondered where he and Richard had met and marveled that they seemed to be genuine friends.

  A hidden depth to this stranger she was about to marry.

  “I apologize again for keeping you waiting,” Richard said in an even tone.

  Juliet nodded, then exhaled slowly, the air shuddering from her lips. She introduced Richard to Reverend Abernathy and they took their places in front of the window. Harriet and Lord George flanked them on either side. The rest of the guests settled into the chairs.

  Juliet snuck a glance at Richard as he stood beside her, but his face was impassive, his eyes shuttered. She clung tenuously to her composure, trying to appreciate how attractive Richard looked in his formal dark suit, with his complexion slightly flushed and his hair a bit mussed.

  Reverend Abernathy cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”

  “I pronounce that you are man and wife. What God has joined together let no man put asunder.”

  It was done.

  At the reverend’s command, Richard turned toward his bride, looking her in the eye for the first time since entering the drawing room. Her gaze was calm, steady. He knew she had to have been concerned, yet she did not look as though she had been overly agitated, or even worse, crying at his very late arrival. That realization relieved his heart, settling it back to a normal beat.

  This marriage was to be a straightforward affair. A business proposition benefiting both parties. But there was no reason it could not also be a pleasant relationship. Richard knew his tardy entrance to the ceremony must have caused her great embarrassment. Thankfully, it appeared she was not going to hold a grudge over it.

  He had a very strong urge to kiss her, which was appropriate, given the circumstances. But the reverend produced the parish register, indicating where they needed to sign. Once that was accomplished, the congratulations from the wedding guests began and the kiss was forgotten. By everyone except him.

  “Come, Richard, you must meet my children.”

  Out of sorts at being denied his kiss, Richard curled his fists at his sides. He followed Juliet to a quiet section of the drawing room where the children were waiting, their feet fidgeting for a considerable time.

  Feeling awkward, Richard tried to keep his expression pleasant as Juliet introduced Edward, James, and Elizabeth, known to one and all as Lizzy. He was not a man used to children, and had been told that generally youngsters were quick-witted enough to know it.

  “Congratulations, sir,” Edward said, offering his hand.

  Richard shook it solemnly. After a sharp elbow in the side from Edward, James mimicked his older brother. Richard accepted the boy’s congratulations and shook hands, then felt himself leaning forward, wondering if his reflexes were quick enough to prevent the delicate Lizzy from receiving a similar blow.

  Thankfully it was not necessary. Without any prompting, Lizzy grasped a chubby fistful of her skirt in each hand, pulled it wide, then dipped down in a plausible curtsy.

  Richard considered the trio briefly. There was a hint of hostility lurking in the depths of Edward’s eyes, open curiosity in James’s, and a guileless smile of delight in Lizzy’s.

  “I am happy you are married,” Lizzy proclaimed, beaming up at him. “Now we can have cake!”

  “Not until you’ve eaten your luncheon first,” Juliet said affectionately. “Mrs. Perkins?”

  “I’ll take care of it.” The servant gathered the children together and herded them out of the room.

  “They were very well behaved,” Richard offered when Juliet looked at him expectantly.

  “Yes.” Her eyes softened, tender and maternal. “This has all been a bit difficult for them to comprehend, but I know given time they will adjust.”

  To what? Juliet is their parent and will have sole control of their lives. That is not going to change in any way. Richard was pondering precisely what she meant by “adjust” when the butler invited everyone to enter the dining room to partake of the wedding luncheon.

  It was an elegant meal, complete with chilled champagne and the aforementioned wedding cake. To Richard’s relief, the children were nowhere in sight. He doubted he could enjoy his food with their eyes trained so diligently upon him. As it was, it was difficult enough with the adults around the table sizing him up.

  He was seated next to his bride, but fortunately, George had been assigned the chair to his left. As the soup course was cleared, George leaned close and whispered, “Husband and father all in one afternoon. Well done, Richard.”

  He stared at George’s smiling face as if his friend were touched in the head. “The children are Juliet’s responsibility and will remain that way. As for the rest, you are very aware of the reason I married.”

  “Yes, of course. The captains of industry have adopted the ways of the aristocracy and are marrying for property and prestige.” George picked up his wineglass and took a healthy sip. “Pity, that. Your bride appears to have far more to offer than an estate.”

  Richard’s gaze traveled to Juliet, his lips curving in masculine approval. True, she did have other attributes beyond the estate, but he would not lose sight of the real reasons for this marriage. No matter how desirable he found her.

  The meal continued. Thankfully, George possessed the rare talent of being able to converse amusingly on nearly any subject without actually saying anything. By the time the fish was served, he had everyone around the table relaxed and smiling, including the bride.

  Yes, Richard was very glad he had brought George with him, even as he caught him smiling and winking at one of the maids who was assisting the footmen by bringing the food into the dining room. George’s acumen with females of all ages was legendary; he never missed the chance to flirt with a woman.

  “I would appreciate it if you would avoid chasing the housemaids during my wedding luncheon,” Richard said to George in a quiet voice, so as not to be overheard by anyone else. “Just this once.”

  “’Tis bad f
orm to engage in dalliances with the maids if one hopes to be invited back.” George tilted his head. “You do plan on asking me back, I hope? Long after the honeymoon, naturally.”

  “That depends entirely on how you act today,” Richard replied casually as he took a bite of chicken. It was prepared exactly as he preferred, with a flavorful brandy sauce. Barclay must have told Juliet of his preferences. How wifely of her to be sure they were met.

  His wife! Unbidden, memories returned of another time, another woman, another bride. Young, sweet, and innocent, her face gazing adoringly into his, the promise of love clear and true. A promise left unfulfilled by a life cut tragically short.

  “Is the chicken not to your liking?”

  Richard turned toward Juliet. With an ease that bespoke of much practice, he quickly hid his tumultuous emotions. “It’s fine.”

  “Fine?”

  Her expression tightened, the disappointment obvious. Hell. This wasn’t only about the chicken, he realized. She had put a great deal of effort into making the ceremony and celebration an elegant affair, and he had not commented on any of it.

  “You look lovely today,” he blurted.

  Color rose up her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmured, her expression conveying her confusion. Then with a slight shake of her head, she returned her attention to her plate.

  “Very smooth,” a masculine voice whispered. “Your compliment was so original and overwhelming it obviously left her speechless.”

  “Not one more word, George,” Richard muttered tightly as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. “Or I’ll push your face in the cake.”

  Still dressed in her pale yellow wedding gown, Juliet stood at the window in her bedchamber and stared down at the moonlit garden. The view was lovely and serene. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, and then slowly turned her head, shuddering as she beheld the roses on the walls and bedcovering, and the still larger roses woven into the carpet.