An Independent Woman

“His only interest was in his various aches and pains, real or otherwise. There may have been some estrangement between him and my father. I don’t remember visiting him or his coming to us before my parents died. The first time I remember seeing him was at my parents’ funeral, and then he turned me over to Uncle Trenton. And from my uncle’s reports of me, I feel sure he felt little desire to see me.”

“Twas no excuse,” Juliana maintained stoutly.

He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “I think that you don’t remember me as I was. You were a better friend to me than I deserved.”

“Nonsense,” Juliana retorted. “I knew you were not a saint. You were quite often sullen, and you were rude to our governess and frequently bloodied Crandall’s nose.”

“Ah, then you do remember.”

“Yes. I also remember that few people deserved having their noses bloodied as much as Crandall. He was a vile boy who grew up into a vile young man. And Miss Emerson was not merely strict, she was unkind. Perhaps you should have been less hard on Seraphina. She wasn’t really mean, I think, merely selfish and silly. But how could you not have hated your uncle? He was a terrible man. When I heard that he died, I can tell you that I felt not the slightest bit of regret.”

“Nor did I.” He slanted a smile at her. “Are we villains together, then?”

“I think not. Merely human.”

“You do not know what else I have done,” he reminded her, watching her steadily. “It’s been many years that I’ve been gone.”

Juliana looked into his eyes, deep and black, and she saw in them, as she had seen those many years ago, a terrifying aloneness. Impulsively, she put her hand upon his arm, saying, “I think that whatever you have done, Nicholas, you did because you had to.”

“And does that make it right?”

“I don’t know. But I think it means you do not have a wicked heart.”

He gazed at her for a long time, unspeaking, and the lines of his face softened subtly. He shifted the reins to one hand and placed his free hand over hers on his arm. For a moment they remained that way, unspeaking, and then he moved, letting his hand fall away.

“And your heart, I think, is a generous one,” he said lightly, and the moment was past. “Now, we had best get you home before your Mrs. Thrall starts breathing fire.”

Juliana’s hand tingled where his hand had touched it, and her cheeks were suddenly warm. It took a great deal of restraint not to lay her other hand on the spot where he had touched her; such a gesture would, she was sure, reveal too much of what she was feeling. She wished, with an intensity that both surprised and shook her, that he had not taken his hand away. That he had, instead, leaned closer to her and kissed her.

Juliana pressed her lips together tightly and directed her gaze out onto the street—anywhere but at Nicholas. He considered her a friend. She could not let him know that what she felt for him was something different.

CHAPTER FOUR

WHEN JULIANA RETURNED to the house, she found Fiona loitering in the hallway just inside the front door. The girl had obviously been waiting for her, for she turned to her with a sigh of relief and, taking her hand, pulled Juliana into the empty front drawing room. Juliana opened her mouth to ask the girl what she was doing, but Fiona held her finger to her lips, glancing upstairs in a rather dramatic fashion.

Fiona closed the door behind them softly and turned to face Juliana. “You had best stay out of Clementine’s way. She has been storming about the house for the past hour, ranting about you. She’s in a rare snit.”

“Oh, dear.” Juliana sighed. She had thoroughly enjoyed the ride alone with Nicholas, but as she had expected, she would have to pay for it now.

“What happened? She talks as if you’d ruined her life,” Fiona remarked. “It’s much worse than when I lost her favorite comb last month.”

“I’m afraid that Lord Barre took me for a ride in his curricle without inviting Clementine to come along.”

Fiona let out a laugh. “Is that it? I wondered what she was talking about. She kept saying you had stolen something from her, but I knew you wouldn’t have done anything like that.”

Juliana grimaced. “I suppose I’d best go face the music.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you. I’ve always found it’s better to let her calm down a bit. She’ll still be quite angry, but she’ll be less likely to slap you. Why don’t we go for a stroll?”

Juliana was frankly tempted, but she replied, “No. Better not get you into trouble, as well. But I appreciate the forewarning.”

She left Fiona and went out into the hall, starting toward the rear sitting room. Fiona was doubtless right about giving Clementine a chance to calm down, and while Juliana was not about to hide from the girl, it only made sense not to provoke her.

However, Clementine apparently heard the sound of Juliana’s footsteps on the floor, for she appeared at the head of the stairs. “There you are!”

“Hello, Clementine,” Juliana said pleasantly, nodding to her.

“How could you?” Clementine exclaimed.

“I am afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Juliana replied calmly. “Why don’t we retire to the sitting room and talk about it?”

“Talk about it? Talk about it?” Clementine’s voice dripped disgust. “Do you think that you can try to steal Lord Barre from me and then make it all right by talking about it?”

Juliana kept a firm grip on her own temper, saying, “Clementine, I assure you that I did not try to steal Lord Barre from you.”

“What else would you call it?” Clementine retorted, color flaring in her cheeks. “You cut me out! You—”

“I did no such thing, I assure you. Lord Barre explained that there was room for only two in his curricle, and—”

“And I should have been the one to go with him.” Clementine clattered down the stairs, stopping on the second step from the bottom—acting from, Juliana presumed, a desire to loom over her, since she was taller than the girl.

“Lord Barre invited me,” Juliana pointed out. “I could scarcely have made him take you instead.”

“You connived against me. You inveigled him into inviting you.”

“Clementine, please calm yourself. This is nonsensical,” Juliana protested.

Clementine’s mother came down the stairs like a battleship in full sail, and Juliana turned toward her. “Mrs. Thrall, I—”

The older woman held up her hand peremptorily, saying, “Don’t think you can get around me, now, miss. You have overstepped your bounds, and that’s clear.”

“I beg your pardon?” Juliana had not expected Mrs. Thrall to be pleased with her, but this patently unreasonable charge got her back up.

“I’ll not have you working your wiles on men while you’re under my roof, I’ll have you know.”

“What?” Juliana stared at her employer, too stunned to think how to reply to this.

“Oh, don’t think I don’t know what you’re about,” Mrs. Thrall told her, nodding her head. “Clemmy is too innocent and naive to realize what you’ve been up to, but I’m not. I know what you did, how you seduced Lord Barre into taking you out alone—the promises you must have made. Where did you go while you were out?”

“How dare you?” Juliana shot back, her face utterly pale except for two furious spots of color that flared in her cheeks. “You have no reason to say such things about me! I would never—”

Mrs. Thrall waved away Juliana’s protests. “Oh, I know all right. Why else would a man choose to invite you and not my Clementine? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the lures you were casting out…the sort of enticements that no man, even a gentleman, could resist. And I won’t have it, miss, not in my household, with two impressionable young girls here.”

“Mama! No!” Fiona gasped from where she stood at the doorway to the drawing room, watching the scene unfold before her.

Juliana stalked forward to Mrs. Thrall, towering over the squat woman. She had managed over the years to hold her temper under all sorts of provocation, but this accusation was too much for her.

“There has never been the slightest stain on my name,” Juliana said fiercely, her voice trembling with the force of her indignation. “My reputation is unblemished.”