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CHRISTMAS EVE DAWNED crisp and lovely. However, none of the inhabitants of Lady Irving’s stately town house were aware of the weather at dawn, as they were all still sleeping following a day of travel. In fact, Julia, exhausted from a sleepless night, only awoke when Louisa shook her gently and told her that James was downstairs.
She sat upright in an instant, sleep abolished. “What!” she shrieked.
Louisa laughed. “It’s past noon. There’s nothing very unusual about him coming by at this hour.”
“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” Julia frantically tossed her bedcovers aside and began hunting for something to put on. “Where are my clothes? Why the devil did I sleep so late?”
“Julia,” Louisa gently reproved her.
“Sorry; I meant, ‘why the deuce did I sleep so late,’” Julia dutifully replied.
She paused in her frenzied attempt to find where her trunks were stowed, and took in Louisa’s appearance. Her sister’s hair was glossy and well dressed; her pale primrose gown was simply cut but elegant, and trimmed with intricate silk knots and a row of bugles.
“Why, you look wonderful,” Julia squeaked. “Even for you. I mean, your general appearance has a pretty high level of wonderful, but today it is especially so.”
To her surprise, Louisa blushed. “Oh, well, thanks,” she said dismissively, but she smiled all the same. “I didn’t want to be a discredit to James when I met his family. Actually, we are going to meet his family.”
At Julia’s questioning look, Louisa admitted, “I’ve never met the viscountess before, but I know James thinks she’s rather intimidating. So if you don’t mind, we’ll all go together. I feel I could use the support of your presence. James has already agreed that it sounds delightful. And it would be nicest to spend Christmas Eve all together, don’t you think?” Her voice sounded hopeful, wheedling.
Julia didn’t need to be wheedled at all. “Yes! I’m absolutely rabid to meet the woman who was girlhood friends with Lady Irving.” She grinned mischievously. “Do you think they’ll have a fight while we’re there?”
She was only teasing, but Louisa looked worried. “I hope not. I want our visit to go as well as possible. Do you think my aunt would be offended if I asked her to be calm and not provoke anyone?”
“Not a bit, but she’ll probably decide to be on her worst behavior if you do,” Julia decided. “Better not to say anything. She wants this to go well, too, you know. We all do.”
Louisa nodded her understanding, and then looked around the room. “They can’t have unpacked your clothing without your hearing, can they?” She looked in the wardrobe, and was greeted by a neat arrangement of garments.
She shot a skeptical look at Julia. “I know Simone is very good at what she does, but no one is that good. How could you not hear her unpacking you?”
“What? Those can’t be my clothes.” Julia came over to examine them. “Well. They are my clothes. I’ll be—”
“Julia,” Louisa reproved again.
“I’ll be delighted,” Julia finished. “It’s true. I really am delighted to see them unpacked. And I’m surprised. I must have been sleeping more deeply than I realized.”
She shooed Louisa out and asked her to send in Simone to help her dress. “Don’t let James leave until I see him,” she warned.
“Silly.” Louisa smiled. “We’ll be over there for an early supper and will see him all evening.”
“But I don’t want to wait that long,” Julia exclaimed. Then, embarrassed at her unguarded tongue, she busied herself sorting through her dresses for something fit to wear to meet a viscountess.
More quickly than she would have imagined possible, Simone’s deft fingers had teased the snarls out of her hair and selected one of her myriad white gowns.
“This is nothing special,” the Frenchwoman explained dismissively of the garment as she helped Julia into it, “but at least it will not offend the fashionable. When we are able to visit a modiste, then we will choose beautiful garments for you.”
At Julia’s look of interest, she clarified, “They will be dresses that are also appropriate for a young woman who is not married. Yes, I know that expression of joie; you are truly your aunt’s niece. You must trust in Simone for couture, if you please.”
Julia looked at herself in the glass. Pale, plain, boring.
Lank hair. White dress. Circles under her eyes. Cheeks flushed from hurry. It was all rather discouraging. But James might get tired of waiting if she didn’t appear downstairs soon.
“Can I at least wear ostrich plumes with the dress?” she asked hopefully. “Louisa said they are shockingly expensive, so they must be all the rage.”
“They are very wrong for today, when you are to spend Christmas Eve with one who is like a relative,” Simone explained as she coiled Julia’s hair into a simple, neat chignon.
“How do you do that?” Julia gingerly touched the roll of hair. “I always have to use about a hundred pins to make it stay in place.”
“That is why I am I, and you are you,” Simone replied in her light accent, with considerable pride. “Go on and see your man now.”
“He’s not my man,” Julia corrected, face turning a treacherous red.
“I am sorry, I did not express myself well,” Simone said with a small smile. “Go and see the man who is here to visit you all.”
Julia nodded uncertainly and headed downstairs to the drawing room.
And there he was.
She’d waited so long to see James, and there he was at last. His light brown hair was shorter, his clothes finer, his build a bit leaner than the last time she had seen him. She noticed every difference even as she savored the sight of him.
She was a fool, she knew, but she was a willing one. It was just so good to see him, to have him around again.
Overcome, she grinned and launched herself toward him. Forgetting where she was or who was watching, she dashed up to greet him with an embrace as she would a member of her family—then skidded to a stop, recollecting herself when only a step away from embarrassment, and bobbed into the most awkward curtsy she’d ever managed. James, for his part, reached out a hand to shake hers, then began to bow, then reached out in response to the beginning of her attempted hug, then collected himself and bowed again. As they both straightened up, they were aware of Lady Irving and Louisa staring at them, puzzled, and Julia’s chagrined blue eyes met James’s green gaze.
They looked ridiculous, they both realized at once, and they burst into laughter. James wrapped Julia in a friendly hug, holding her so tight he lifted her feet off the floor.
“It’s wonderful to see you,” he said gruffly. “Happy Christmas.”
My dear, she thought. Call me “my dear.”
He didn’t, of course. He never would. But held close to him, Julia’s heart pounded all the same. She felt short of breath, and not because he was holding her so tightly. He was here, and he was holding her, and for a second, she wiped from her mind the awareness that he wasn’t here for her.
Just for that precious second, she allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder, allowed the feel of his arms to imprint her body with their heat and strength.
But only for one second. Then she pressed her arms against his chest as a signal to set her down.
He did at once, but she remained standing next to him, too close for propriety, but unable to step away. The warmth of his arms still soaked through her, heating her whole body and, she knew, turning her face pink with awareness. She felt such joy at seeing him, she could hardly contain it. And yet she had no words of greeting; no words at all, which was a shock for her to realize. Usually words spilled out of her unbidden. But for James, she had nothing. Perhaps there was nothing she needed to say.
She realized that she was behaving in an improper fashion. She took a giant step backward and clasped her hands behind her back to keep them from treacherously reaching out for James again. She glanced at Louisa, who seemed to be amused. Lady Irving, fortunately, was digging distractedly through her reticule by now. To Julia, seeing James again after weeks apart seemed the first sun after a long winter; to Lady Irving, it was just the beginning of a dinner engagement.
Noting Julia’s unease, James covered for her hesitation with the smooth presence of mind of the nobility. “Now that we are all here, shall we go? I’m sure my mother’s impatient for her dinner. You know how it is, ma’am, when you get to be a certain age.”
This last remark, unmistakably directed at Lady Irving, broke the spell of silence that was making Julia feel so discomfited. The barb was tempered with a mischievous smile that drew an unwilling cough of startled amusement from her ladyship.
“You young rogue,” she replied in cheerful tones, and allowed him to escort her downstairs to the front door.
“Here goes nothing,” Louisa murmured to Julia as they followed behind.
“Not at all,” Julia replied, attempting to hearten her sister. “Here comes a delightful Christmas Eve dinner with your future family, who will love you at once. It’s going to be marvelous.”
If only she had been right.