AND SO IT WAS that James arrived at Lady Amanda's house on the day Lord Wolverston had commanded, but a full twelve hours before the man expected him. Also not according to plan, he didn't arrive by the front door.
"I think her bedroom is right there," Juliana whispered, peering up from the back garden. "That window with the pale blue drapes."
It was on the second floor. James eyed the wall, which was plain stucco with no footholds in sight. He bent down to gather some pebbles.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting Lady Amanda's attention." He tossed one, and the little clink sounded like it carried for miles.
She winced. "You're going to wake someone."
"Mmm-hmm. That's the whole idea." Clink.
"I thought you would scale the building."
Clink. "Sorry to disappoint you"—clink—"but you're marrying a physician, not a sportsman." Clink, clink. "I already have one bad knee."
"I'm marrying a physician," Juliana echoed as though she couldn't quite believe it.
James also thought it was too wonderful to quite believe. Especially since several people involved didn't know what was happening yet. Especially because someone might make an objection. That was the reason she'd insisted they couldn't make love, and she'd been right to insist.
But he still loved hearing those words from her mouth.
"James."
"Hmm?" Clink.
Before he could toss another pebble, she caught his hand. "I love you."
He turned and smiled down at her. The rain had stopped, and the sky had cleared, and the low light of the full moon gleamed off all her beautiful, straight hair that had slipped from its pins while they were on his bed. Her hair that was a million different colors of blond and brown. She reached her free hand to touch his cheek—he imagined she was feeling the slight roughness—and as he bent his head, she sucked in a breath of anticipation—
"Whatever is happening out there? Lord Stafford?" Lady Amanda had opened her window. "Whatever are you doing with Lady Juliana?" She didn't sound very approving.
James and Juliana jerked apart. "We came to wake you," he said.
They quickly explained their discovery, while Lady Amanda's eyes got wider and wider. At the end, Juliana sighed sympathetically. "I do hope you're not terribly distressed to learn you're…well…"
"A by-blow?" Lady Amanda supplied shakily. "I shouldn't be, should I? After all, the man I love is a by-blow, too."
"Dear heavens," Juliana exclaimed with a soft laugh. "You've surely had a change of heart. Meet us at my house at ten o'clock. The duke will be waiting, and we'll all go next door to Lord Neville and verify the truth."
"My father won't let me out of the house at ten. He's expecting me to marry at noon."
"He's not your father," Juliana reminded her. "You have no obligation to obey him. I'm sure you can find a way out."
"I cannot—"
"Tell Lord Wolverston you're dressing for the wedding," she said out loud, and then softly under her breath, "Honestly, do I have to plan everything?" She sighed and raised her voice again. "I'll make sure there's a ladder from your window down to here. I'll have one of my brother's footmen deliver it."
"I cannot climb through a window!"
"Then use the servants' exit. Either way, I'll expect you at my house at ten o'clock."
Muttering, Lady Amanda shut the window, and Juliana turned and looked at James for a moment. She raised her hands and placed them on his shoulders. "I was going to kiss you before Amanda opened the window," she said softly.
Actually, he'd been going to kiss her, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to argue. Especially when she was looking at him like that, with her eyes so very blue. Even with only the moonlight, he could tell they were blue.
"Can I kiss you now?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, and Juliana kissed him. After all the weeks he'd spent trying to tempt her into letting him kiss her, she kissed him. She kissed him as they walked back to the street, stumbling and kissing along the side of the house. And as they walked down the street, ignoring a carriage that rumbled by. And when they got to her doorstep, she still kept kissing him.
Finally, James pulled back with a low laugh. "You're wearing me out."
She pulled his head down and kissed him again, a quick, joyous kiss.
"I'm never going to last until next Saturday," he said. "I need macaroons for extra stamina."
"Oh," she said with a sigh, and then, "You know what, James? I don't want there to be any more secrets between us."
"I agree," he said. "No secrets, and no lies."
"I never lie," she said, sounding a little defensive. "Well, I did lie to that dratted doctor, but I never lie unless it's absolutely unavoidable. I don't want any lies, either, and no half-truths." She drew a deep breath. "The macaroons don't really lend a man stamina," she confessed in a rush.
"Oh, really?" He snickered.
"Did you snicker at me? Me, the woman you want to marry?"
Well, maybe he had, but only because he found her little superstitions so amusing. He wasn't superstitious at all, and he couldn't quite believe anyone would think macaroons could lend a man stamina. Or do anything else, either, other than taste delicious.
But he hadn't snickered in a nasty way; he'd only snickered because he loved her, and he loved all her little quirks, especially this one. "I didn't snicker," he said, although that meant he was already telling her a half-truth.
He'd been married before, so he knew some half-truths were necessary to sustain a harmonious relationship. But he wouldn't tell her a half-truth unless it was absolutely unavoidable.
"All right," she said, and then, in a lower tone, "I actually baked them to make you amorous."
"Oh, really?" he repeated, but he didn't snicker. He was actually feeling quite amorous at the moment, even without her macaroons, which made sense because there was no way macaroons could make a man amorous, either. But he loved that she thought they did. "You're a treasure, Juliana," he told her, hoping she'd bake him macaroons many, many times in the years to come.
Hoping very hard.
And then he kissed her again and left, and went home and spent the rest of the night with his fingers crossed, even though he wasn't superstitious.