"SO," JULIANA said to James as they waltzed, "have you decided how you're going to ask Lady Amanda's permission to court her?"
He pulled her closer. "I thought I'd start with 'May I have this dance?' and take it from there."
"That doesn't sound particularly gallant."
"I think it will work," he said dismissively. "After all, I bought her several gifts." He pulled her closer still, until their bodies were nearly touching, which had the odd effect of making her tingle. "Have I sent her all of the gifts yet, or just some?"
"Only the fan and the gloves so far," she said, feeling breathless as his hand smoothed slowly down her back. "And the flowers, of course. You'll send the rest next week."
"You'll see to that, I presume," he said dryly as he slid his hand back up. "Sending the gifts is a very gallant gesture, isn't it?"
"That's why I suggested them."
"Well, then," he said, skimming his fingers down again and making her pulse race a little faster, "shouldn't that be enough? They do say that actions speak louder than words."
His actions were speaking volumes. He shouldn't be rubbing her back in the middle of a crowded dance floor, but she expected the macaroons were to blame for such forward behavior—and she had to admit it felt very nice. If he did the same to Amanda, that, coupled with the gifts, could very well be enough to make her want to marry him.
As the waltz came to an end, she was pleased to notice her older sister conversing with Amanda. "There's Alexandra now," she said, maneuvering so that James would lead her off the dance floor in their direction. "Let me introduce you."
James told Alexandra he'd been delighted to learn Lord Hawkridge had wed—in fact, he seemed more happy about that than was warranted—and Alexandra was glad to meet the man who'd been discussed so avidly at Juliana's sewing parties, although she didn't say so, of course.
After the introductions were complete, it was a simple matter to suggest that James and Amanda dance. Unfortunately, the musicians struck up a country tune, not a waltz, but the two of them headed off, looking very good together. They were both tall, and James's dark handsomeness contrasted with Amanda's pale beauty. Anyone would agree they made a perfect couple.
Juliana turned and spotted James's mother gazing happily toward her son, clearly pleased to see him with the lovely Amanda. Lady Stafford looked different tonight—or younger, maybe—wearing a fashionable dress of deep rose with almond trim. Juliana recalled seeing something similar in the latest issue of La Belle Assemblée. Remembering that James wanted his mother to dance, she looked around for an eligible gentleman and found one nearby.
"Lord Cavanaugh," she said, smiling when he shifted to face her. A dapper widower in his mid-fifties with a patrician nose and silver hair, he was ideal for Lady Stafford. "Are you enjoying the evening?"
He grinned down at her, looking surprised to have a lady so much younger engage him in conversation. "Very much, Lady Juliana. And you?"
"Very much as well." She started edging toward James's mother. "Have you been dancing much tonight?"
"Not yet," he said, interpreting her question as an invitation, just as she'd intended. "But I'd be honored to—"
"Excellent," she said, walking him right up to Lady Stafford. "Good evening, Lady Stafford."
James's mother turned, the smile still on her face. "Good evening, Lady Juliana."
"Your dress is beautiful. Is it new?"
Her warm brown eyes, so like her son's, sparkled much more than Amanda's. She reached to touch Juliana's arm. "Why, thank you, and yes, it is."
"I believe you know Lord Cavanaugh?" Juliana smiled in the man's direction. "He would love to dance with you. I hope you enjoy yourselves," she added and sailed off.
Corinna stepped into her path. "Very smooth, Juliana."
Since she was so happy with the way everything was going, she ignored her sister's sarcastic tone. "Thank you."
"Has it ever occurred to you that some people might not appreciate your meddling?"
"I'm not meddling. I'm helping." She gestured toward the dance floor, where Lady Stafford was performing a quadrille with Lord Cavanaugh. "They're both smiling."
"They're being polite."
"They're happy. He's a wealthy widower; she's a lonely widow. Why shouldn't they be happy to dance together?"
"Maybe because you pushed them into it?"
"Some people need a little pushing." She eyed her sister, thinking she looked a bit lonely. "Shall I find a dance partner for you?"
"Holy Hannah," Corinna said and walked off.
Juliana looked back to the dance floor. No matter what her sister said, it was obvious Lord Cavanaugh and James's mother were thoroughly enjoying their dance. And Lord Malmsey and Aunt Frances were dancing again, their eyes locked on each other in a way that made Juliana sigh with envy. If only the duke would look at her like that. Well, maybe he would now, having eaten the macaroons.
She was looking around for him when Amanda walked up. "I talked to Lord Malmsey."
"About what?" Juliana gasped, picturing her giving him a piece of her mind about dancing with Frances.
But Amanda surprised her. "About our betrothal. You were right—I had no call to disapprove of him showing interest in another woman. I told him that I understand his change of heart, and feel the same, and I'm going to find a way out of the marriage that will leave him with his honor intact."
Juliana slumped in relief. "You've decided to marry Lord Stafford, then."
Amanda shook her head. "I'm still not struck by love."
Impossible. "Did Lord Stafford touch you?" Juliana asked.
"Touch me? He touched my hand, of course, during the dance when we progressed."
"But nothing else? Nothing more…amorous?"
"Amorous?" Amanda's eyes widened. "I should hope not! It's not as though we're engaged."
They'd never get engaged if she didn't let him touch her. "The plan was to find someone willing to compromise you," Juliana reminded her. "And some touching, after all, will be necessary in order to convince your father that you're compromised. Perhaps a little experimentation would be wise."
Amanda appeared to quail at the very idea. "It's too soon. I've yet to decide if Lord Stafford is the man I wish to have compromise me."
"Well, your wedding is only three weeks off. You'd best make your decision quickly, or it will be Lord Malmsey touching you instead of someone of your own choosing."
The poor girl's face went white, and Juliana's heart went out to her. How a woman as reserved as Amanda would get through her wedding night was something she didn't even want to contemplate.
"We'll find someone," she promised, reaching to pat Amanda's hand. "I'm just not sure it's realistic to expect to be struck by love in so little time."
Amanda bit her lip, looking more reserved than ever. "Perhaps you're right."
"If you'd allow Lord Stafford to touch you, that might help."
"He hasn't tried," Amanda said.
Surely the effect of the macaroons hadn't worn off that quickly. "Perhaps if you were a bit more receptive."
"I'll try." Amanda fiddled with her fan. "Do you enjoy it when the duke touches you?"
"Very much," Juliana assured her, wishing the duke had actually touched her so she wouldn't have to fib. "Listen. The musicians are starting a waltz. That's an excellent dance for touching."
She took Amanda's arm and marched her to where James was talking to his mother. "Lady Amanda would love to waltz," she said.
When he didn't move, Lady Stafford nudged him. "Go on, James. We can finish this discussion at home."
"Very well," he said stiffly, offering Amanda his arm. "Shall we dance again?"
As the young couple walked off, Lady Stafford gave a happy sigh and smiled at Juliana, looking as though she had something to say to her. Something nice. But just then, Lord Cavanaugh came up and smartly bowed before the older woman.
"Shall we dance again?" he asked.
Shooting Juliana an even wider smile over her shoulder, Lady Stafford went off with him.
Juliana looked around and spotted the Duke of Castleton walking out of the card room. Aiming her best, practiced smile at him, she went up and tapped him on the arm. "Shall we dance again?"
That line had worked well for everyone else, but the duke looked startled. Juliana supposed it wasn't proper for a lady to do the asking, but she was dying to see how well the macaroons had worked, so she started toward the dance floor, knowing he would follow.
And he did follow, of course. But when they started to waltz, his arms were rigid, and he held her just as far away as ever.
"Who is that dancing with Stafford?" he asked. "Do you know her?"
"That's Lady Amanda Wolverston, and I know her very well. We grew up together as neighbors."
"I've never noticed her before."
Well, of course he hadn't. No one had noticed Amanda before Juliana took her in hand. "What did you think of Lord Stafford's controversial speech?"
"To which speech do you refer?"
"Yesterday's. In Parliament. Concerning smallpox vaccinations."
"How would you come to know of that?" he asked, but apparently the question was rhetorical, because he didn't wait for an answer. "I was at my club all day and night," he told her. "Playing cards."
She wondered why she found that disturbing. After all, she wanted a man who had plenty of time for her, and clearly he put pleasure before more serious pursuits. "Did you win?"
"Does it matter? It was an amusing way to pass the hours." He smiled down on her indulgently. "I can afford to lose, I assure you. I have plenty of money to both gamble and buy flowers for a special lady."
She was glad he thought she was special, but if he had extra funds, perhaps they'd be better spent on something more meaningful. A worthy cause. The Foundling Hospital, perhaps, or smallpox vaccinations.
Once she knew him better, she'd make the suggestion. She wished he would loosen up so she could get to know him better. "Did you eat any more of my macaroons?" she asked, concluding he hadn't.
"All of them," he said, surprising her. "They tasted so wonderful, and I couldn't find anywhere to put them to save them for later."
That was as she'd expected. But why weren't they working? "I'm glad you enjoyed them."
"They were truly very good."
Apparently they weren't good enough. They didn't seem to make him amorous at all. She moved a little bit closer, but he stiffened his arms until they were once more at a proper distance.
Lord Cavanaugh, she noticed, wasn't dancing nearly so properly with Lady Stafford. The two of them looked rather cozy. And Aunt Frances and Lord Malmsey were so close they were all but tromping on each other's toes. Amanda, however, was dancing at a proper distance from James.
She should have left James more macaroons, considering two had worn off too quickly and even seven hadn't affected the duke. What would make a man so resistant? Since the duke was a by-blow, she imagined his father might have acted distant, knowing his son was actually sired by another. But a good mother should have made up for that.
"Was your mother very affectionate?" she asked.
"Affectionate?" He looked taken aback by the mere question. "I wouldn't know. I never knew either of my parents."
Oh, how tragic. "Why was that?"
"They died when I was six months old. Drowned in a storm while crossing the Channel."
"I'm so sorry." Juliana had lost her parents as a young adult—she could hardly imagine growing up without parents altogether. Even motherless Emily and Amanda had fathers in their lives. "Who raised you, then?"
His handsome mouth compressed into a thin line. "My uncle and aunt—my father's brother and his wife. Did you know I was born in your house? The first thing they did as my guardians was sell that house to your father and then buy my current, more splendid house in Grosvenor Square. I was well satisfied to turn them out of it when I gained my majority."
She was happy to hear he had a splendid house, but she wondered at the bitterness in his tone. "Were they not nice to you?"
"Nice?" He laughed, but it was a laugh devoid of humor. "If I hadn't been born half a year before my parents died, my uncle and aunt would have been the duke and duchess. They never forgave me for robbing them of that."
He didn't offer any details, but Juliana could imagine them for herself. His uncle and aunt had been cold, cruel, and resentful. He'd received no hugs growing up, no physical affection.
No wonder he wasn't affectionate himself. No one had ever shown him how. "I'm so sorry you had a sad childhood," she told him.
"You're so caring, my dear," he said, giving her a fond smile.
Now she understood. No one had cared for him throughout his childhood, which was why he had a hard time getting close to others now. Like all people, he'd learned by example, and he needed a new example to learn by.
Human touch could go a long way. Once he learned to be more affectionate, he would also be more charitable. The poor man needed someone in his life to gently guide him, to help his softer side come to the fore.
He needed her. With her in his life, demonstrating affection and giving to others—
The dance came to an end. Before she could finish formulating her plan, he bowed formally and thanked her.
No sooner had he walked away than Lady Stafford walked up. "I must thank you for introducing me to Lord Cavanaugh."
"I thought you already knew him."
"Reintroducing me, then." She smiled, her kindly eyes reminding Juliana of her own mother. "I'm giving a little dinner party tomorrow evening at Stafford House, and Lord Cavanaugh has agreed to attend. My son will be there, too. Might I have the pleasure of your company as well?"
"I'd be delighted to attend." She liked James's mother. Lady Stafford was very motherly, and Juliana missed her mother rather a lot. Plus the dinner would give her a chance to ask James how his courtship of Amanda was proceeding and remind him to invite her to visit the Egyptian Hall. Once Amanda discovered their shared interest in Roman antiquities, she was certain to fall in love.
"I'm also going to ask the young lady with whom my son has been dancing." Lady Stafford's gaze slid to Amanda and back. "Shall I invite the Duke of Castleton to round out our party?"
"That would be lovely," Juliana said.
That would be perfect, in fact. The duke never called on Sundays, so the dinner would give her a chance to begin helping him right away. She'd be able to direct the conversation to James's cause and perhaps persuade him to contribute.
She hoped the duke would come to like James, and vice versa. Perhaps, in the long run, she and the duke could become fast friends with James and Amanda and have more dinner parties after both couples were married. That would be an ideal situation, because she'd come to enjoy James's company in the time they'd spent together.
"Eight o'clock, then?" the older woman asked. "Lady Amanda lives on your street, doesn't she? On the west side of Berkeley Square? I'll have the Stafford carriage sent round for you both."