How to Romance a Rake (26 page)

“Anna told me she’d been approached in the park by a man claiming to be an artist,” MacEwan said. “She never told me his name, but she said that he wished to paint her portrait as part of his next exhibit. But when she told him no, he kept coming back and pestering her to agree. I never heard what came of it, though. I assumed she’d gotten rid of him because the next mention of him was in the letter where she regrets sending him away.”

“Did you believe her?” Juliet asked.

MacEwan shrugged. “I have three sisters and I know how apt to change their minds ladies can be,” he said. “I assumed she’d thought more about it and decided she’d made a mistake. So, yes, I suppose I did believe her.”

“Whether she decided to pose for
Il Maestro
or not,” Alec said gravely, “I believe this mysterious artist might be the last person to have seen Mrs. Turner before she disappeared.”

*   *   *

Their journey back to London was overshadowed by Juliet’s increased fears regarding Anna’s whereabouts. Her disappearance had been troubling, of course, but behind the worry there had always been a hope, however false, that she had simply taken a trip to see some relative or friend who was heretofore unknown to them. But the interview with Mr. MacEwan, and his revelation about the mysterious artist, had made that scenario seem more and more unlikely.

They arrived at the Deveril town house in the falling London twilight. And with a prescience known only to superior servants, Alec’s butler, Mr. Hamilton, had the entire household staff assembled almost as soon as his master assisted his new bride from the carriage.

Though she had known her position as Alec’s wife would involve any number of such formalities, Juliet couldn’t help the knot of anxiety forming in her belly as she took in the assembled men and women to whom she would serve as mistress for the duration of her marriage.

Her sentiments must have communicated themselves to Alec, because he leaned down and said softly, “We don’t have to do this now, if you don’t wish to. They will all still be here in the morning.”

But Juliet knew from her years of traveling from post to post with her parents that it was best to establish oneself with the servants from the beginning. If only to ensure that they respected her as their new mistress. Her pride also prompted her to do whatever she could to counterbalance any weakness her physical infirmity might convey to them. Though her will was strong enough, she had found that many assumed her to be a shrinking violet simply by dint of her limp.

So she gave her new husband a brief shake of the head, and allowed Mr. Hamilton to introduce her to the men and women standing before her. She made sure to repeat each one’s name, and to commit to memory some little detail that would help her remember each of them tomorrow.

As she moved closer toward the end of the line, Juliet noticed Alec’s sisters, waiting for them just inside the entryway.

“I am so pleased you’re home,” the shorter of the two, Katherine, an ash blonde with her brother’s blue eyes, said. “Congratulations to both of you. And welcome home, Juliet.”

And before she knew what to say, Juliet was clasped in an impulsive hug.

“You might give her a moment to catch her breath, Kat,” Lydia said wryly. “Apologies for my sister, Juliet, but she has the manners of a barn cat.”

Looking from one to the other of her new sisters-in-law, Juliet found herself surprised but pleased by their warm welcome. They’d known one another for some years since they were both out and active in the social whirl. But even so, they might not have been best happy at their brother’s marriage.

They were at once recognizable as Deveril’s sisters. Not only did they share their brother’s eye color, but there was something about the underlying bone structure of their countenances that just seemed … Deverilish. Though neither was as pretty as their brother might be called handsome, they were each attractive in their ways. And there was an animation about their mannerisms that gave Juliet the impression of barely restrained energy. She had little doubt that their brother had been led on a merry dance once he’d assumed their guardianship.

“Neither of you is particularly well mannered, Lydia,” their brother said with an affectionate grin. “Though it isn’t as if I haven’t spent good money to see it drummed into your featherbrained heads.”

“Fie on both of you,” Kat responded with a decidedly unladylike snort. “I have been waiting this age to welcome Juliet into the family and there is nothing either of you can do to dampen my enthusiasm.”

“It is Lady Deveril now, kitten,” her brother returned, “and no one is trying to dampen your enthusiasm. We are simply urging you to restrain yourself a bit. You’ll scare her off, if you aren’t careful.”

Juliet took in their familiar banter with interest. Her own relationship with her brother was nowhere near as easy as Alec’s with his sisters seemed to be. And since she’d been dreading this meeting given the haste with which she and Alec had been married, she found the scene to be reassuring.

“Do not scold them on my account, Alec,” she said, holding out her hands to each of her new sisters. “I am grateful that they aren’t scandalized beyond repair at our elopement. In fact, I find their enthusiasm refreshing.”

She felt him wrap a reassuring arm about her waist as he said wryly, “You say they are refreshing now, but you’ve not been faced with it across the breakfast table before you’ve had your morning tea.”

“Don’t listen to him, Lady Deveril,” Lydia told her with a grin. “He only teases us so because he is jealous that we command more attention than he does these days. There was a time when our brother was quite the talk of the town.”

“But no more,” Kat added lightly. “He is become an old sobersides in his dotage.”

“I suppose I’d best hire some footmen to carry me about in a sedan chair, and begin taking the cure for my gout,” Alec returned with a mock sigh. “Do you see what abuse I am forced to take from them, my dear?”

Juliet colored at the endearment though it was innocent enough. “I hope you will both leave off calling me Lady Deveril and continue calling me Juliet. We are still friends, after all.”

“Of course,” said Kat warmly, squeezing her hand.

“We are truly pleased to welcome you to our home,” Lydia said, her eyes crinkling at the corners in just the same manner that her brother’s did. “Already I can see that you’ve managed to lighten Alec’s mood. He’s been so serious since our father—”

But Alec broke in before she could complete her thought. “Warm though your welcome has been, it was a long trip home from Gretna and I for one am exhausted.”

“Of course!” Katherine said with a guilty start. “We hadn’t meant to keep you here chattering in the entryway! I am so sorry, Juliet. What beasts you must think us!”

“I’ll have cook send something up for you both at once. We have already dined, and we have that…”—Lydia paused as if searching for a word—“that thing that we were doing. Don’t we, Kat?”

“Huh?” Katherine asked, looking askance at her sister. “What thing? What are you…?”

Juliet saw Lydia’s elbow make contact with her sister’s ribs. “The
thing
…” she said meaningfully.

Catching the slight nod in Alec and Juliet’s direction, realization dawned on Kat’s face. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “The
thing
! Of course, how could I have forgotten it?”

Both sisters grinned at their brother and his new bride.

“We’ll just leave you to it then,” Alec said with a slight roll of his eyes. “I’ll show you to your rooms, my dear.”

As she allowed him to lead her toward the staircase, Juliet heard giggles behind them. “I believe they haven’t got a thing to do at all,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Of course they haven’t,” her husband replied, with a laugh. “That was their oh-so-subtle way of excusing themselves so that we might be alone together.”

“Because we are newly wed?” Juliet asked, with a frown. “Or because we are just returned from a long trip?”

“Both, I would imagine,” he replied thoughtfully. “Since they are not long out of the schoolroom, I don’t suppose they know exactly what married couples
do
with one another. At least I certainly hope they don’t.”

“I don’t know,” Juliet said with a grin. “Cecily and Madeline and I had some very informative discussions about it. Maddie even found a book that—” She broke off. “Well, let us just say that it cleared up some misunderstandings we’d had.”

“About what?” Alec asked, as they reached the second landing, his gaze fascinated.

Juliet felt herself turning red, and refused to meet his eyes. “I’d rather not say.”

“Oh, that is no fair at all,” Alec said, pulling her along toward what she supposed were the master and mistress’s rooms. “You can’t tease me like that and then refuse to tell the whole story.”

Juliet looked one way, then the other, to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “If you must know, I was not convinced that the … er … male part could grow to such a prodigious size.”

“Prodigious, eh? So this book convinced you of it?”

“Well, no, it was only after Cecily and Winterson married that we had confirmation.”

Alec bit back a howl of laughter. “Does Winterson know Cecily told you two about the size of his … part?”

Juliet gasped. “Dear Lord, I hope not! I don’t think I’d ever be able to be in the same room with him again!”

She shook her head in horror at the thought, then continued, following her new husband into the sitting room adjoining their bedchambers. “And of course I had my own confirmation of it on our wedding day.”

Shutting the door firmly behind them, Alec pulled her against him and nuzzled her ear. “Did you indeed?” he asked, his voice still tinged with amusement. “And was it as
prodigious
as you expected?”

Juliet closed her eyes as he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Oh, yes,” she said on a sigh. “Very impressive, indeed.”

“Dashed right,” Alec murmured against her neck just before he reached down and lifted her into his arms.

She gave a startled laugh. “What are you doing, you madman?”

“I am carrying my bride to bed,” he said firmly.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon!” she protested, bending her knees so that they could make it through the door into his bedchamber.

“I thought we’d settled that in Gretna. It’s perfectly normal for married people to engage in—”

He stopped upon seeing his valet in his room, engaged in unpacking his traveling things.

One look from Deveril was enough to make the man drop the task at hand and leave with a murmured apology.

“Deveril, you frightened the poor man to death,” Juliet protested, blushing.

“I am sure Thompson will recover,” her husband said, depositing her upon his very large bed. “Now, where were we?”

Juliet had no trouble at all reminding him where they’d left off. She’d always been a quick study.

*   *   *

The next morning, after a long visit with Baby Alice—who seemed perfectly content in the Deveril nurseries—Juliet had the carriage brought round so that she might visit Herr Bock’s establishment in Bloomsbury. She had waited until Alec left for his club to do so because though she had told him her secret, she still was reluctant to discuss the day-to-day aspects of life as an amputee. Perhaps it was silly for her to be so circumspect considering the intimacies she’d allowed him, but she had no wish to see him turn from passionate lover to pitying husband. In fact, she could think of nothing she feared more.

The trip to Herr Bock’s was necessitated by her elevated status. She had no wish to shame Alec by appearing in public as his viscountess in anything less than her most fashionable ensembles. And that meant she would need new slippers as well as new gowns. The shoes she’d worn during her days attempting to blend into the background would simply not do.

Like many Harley Street physicians, Herr Bock saw patients in a small office attached to his home. Though he would never presume to make the comparison himself, he also was just as professional and meticulous as a physician, always ensuring that his patients were well cared for.

“Good morning, miss,” Mr. Stephens, Bock’s assistant greeted her, taking her coat and hat. “Mr. Bock is waiting for you.”

From the moment he’d arrived in England three years ago with Lord Shelby’s other staff, the craftsman had insisted on taking on the customs and mannerisms of his new home. And when barely a year into his time there, he’d insisted upon setting up an establishment for himself. “For it seems to me, Miss Shelby,” he’d said, “that there are others here who might need my help learning to walk again.”

And though Lady Shelby had been livid, her husband had reminded her that the man was hardly an indentured servant and was free to come and go as he wished. Even in the face of a promise to increase his fees exponentially, Bock had stood firm. A few weeks later he’d found this little house in Bloomsbury and to Juliet’s delight had set about bringing his skill to those who needed it.

“Miss Shelby,” the burly German said, opening his arms wide as he welcomed her into his examining room. “How good it is to see you. You are having no trouble with the leg, I hope?”

Basking in the friendship she’d shared with this man who had saved her from life at the margins of society, where she would be kept completely out of sight, Juliet took his outstretched hands. “No,” she assured him. “No trouble at all. Indeed I am here because of a happy occasion. I’ve married.”

“Married! But you are not old enough for such a thing, surely?”

“I certainly am,” Juliet said with a grin. “And I am no longer Miss Shelby but the Viscountess Deveril.”

If he was surprised to learn she’d married so well, Herr Bock did not show it. He simply took her in a bear hug and wished her happy.

“Now,” he said when they’d chatted a bit about her new circumstances, “you did not come here to tell me your news. Let me guess. You have need of the new slippers and shoes, yes?”

Though most amputees made do with a single prosthesis onto which they fitted shoes themselves, in order to keep her infirmity a secret, Juliet’s mother had insisted from the start that Herr Bock make her as many legs as she had slippers. Which Juliet and Herr Bock had sensibly decided to limit to four. One with a half-boot, one with a dancing slipper, one with a riding boot, and one with a sturdy walking boot. Because it was nearly impossible to keep a shoe on her prosthetic foot without some sort of lacing or adhesive, Juliet would send the left shoe to Herr Bock and he would affix the shoe with glue. This allowed him to adjust the balance of the socket, which fitted around her calf, so that if there were a hill Juliet would not be pitched forward or backward by the change in angle.