Veiled in Blue (16 page)

“Do not discuss me with anyone,” he told the man, reverting to French. “Pack me a small bag. I’m going to London. I only need enough for the journey.” Ignoring the valet’s small moan, he continued, “I’ll be back in a week, maybe less. I’ll use the clothes I have in London while I’m there.”

He smiled wickedly when his valet paled, but the man knew better than to say anything. “Don’t worry, I won’t be wearing anything too fine.”

“That,
monseigneur
, is what worries me,” said Lamaire as he got to his feet, having adjusted the boots on Julius’s feet to his satisfaction. “You have a reputation we should try to keep up.”

Julius switched to English, knowing he had the man at a considerable disadvantage in doing so. “I am my own person. If I choose to wear sackcloth and ashes, I will make a fashion of it. Don’t pack anything I will regret leaving behind in London.”

He left the room and went downstairs for breakfast.

In London, most of the fashionable world breakfasted at noon, or even later. Here in the country, where everything started and finished earlier, he would find something in the breakfast parlor, even if the full buffet had not been set yet. On his way downstairs, he encountered a footman and gave him a message to send to the stables. He would use a travelling chaise and four horses, which would make his journey much faster. Time was racing past, and he wanted to be away before half past seven.

Visions of spending night after night in the arms of the delectable Eve drove him to make haste. But when he entered the breakfast parlor, as well as a promising selection of food, cold and hot, he found Alex. Trying to appear cool and collected, he filled a plate and accepted Alex’s offer of tea. He sat at the table. “It’s early for you, isn’t it?”

Alex shrugged and finished the mouthful he was consuming. “The baby wakes early. Although we have a wet nurse to help with the feeding, Connie grows restless near the time he will wake.”

“I never noticed any such propensity from my mother,” Julius remarked.

Alex grinned. Julius’s mother was not known for her maternal feelings. “I suspect she had the nursery set up at the opposite side of the house to her bedroom.”

“I daresay she did,” Julius said blandly. A miniscule prick of hurt needled him but these days the emotion was so insignificant he could ignore it easily. Matters had not always lain that way. He sipped his tea. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Ask away. I’ll see what I can do.”

Julius grinned. At one time Alex would have joined him in any kind of folly, but a wife and child had settled him into domestic complacency. “Take care of Eve for me while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“London.”

“What for?”

Julius attacked the pork chop on his plate, cutting off a piece before spearing it with his fork. “A special license.” He chewed his savory mouthful and watched.

Alex put down his own cutlery and gave his cousin his full attention. “I’m not entirely surprised,” he said.

“Because of my action at the ball?”

“Because of your action after you returned here. I walked over to your room last night for a quiet chat, but what I heard sent me back to my side of the house. Really, Julius, you should know better than to take up with a screamer. You will have no peace, and the caricaturists will have a field day.”

He had not exactly kept quiet, either, and he’d enjoyed every thrilling moment. Rather than subdue Eve, he’d put up with anything the cartoonists threw at him, if their engravings did not embarrass her. He would have to rearrange the placement of their bedchamber in the houses he owned. “I see.” He cut another piece of the succulent meat and ate it before he spoke again. “I want my betrothed to be properly cared for. See nobody disturbs her, and monitor her visitors, if you please. Connie is hardly in a position to supervise, so I fear that task must fall to you.”

“I expect you want me to give her mother house room too?” Alex said blandly.

“Most assuredly I do. She could be in danger too.” Julius took a bracing sip of coffee. “I told her about her birthright. It appears she already knew some of it. Her mother told her. But she hadn’t known the identity of her father.”

Alex grunted. “At this rate, all my relatives will be members of a royal house.” Several of their cousins had already married into royalty, so Alex’s comment was only a slight exaggeration. “The Emperors seem to be morbidly fascinated with the Stuarts.”

“Perhaps the Stuarts are trying to move up a rung,” Julius commented.

“Did you tell her who you are?” Alex leaned back with a broad smile on his face. He was enjoying Julius’s dilemma, damn him.

“No,” he said shortly.

“Oh, and maybe you want me to tell her?”

That would ruin everything. He would give her time to absorb the first piece of news first. “By no means, and warn the servants I will not tolerate any tattling. Nobody else in these parts knows. King realized last night, or perhaps he knew before, but nobody else is aware that I’m one of
those
Vernons. I will tell Eve both salient facts when I return, license in hand.”

“You do realize you are doing it again, Julius.”

Julius frowned. “Doing what again?”

“Marrying in haste. Are you sure you will not repent at leisure?”

Julius was surprised to discover he would not. So certain was he that he would rush his union with Eve rather than lose her. Yes, he had done it before, but there were differences.

“The events of last night and the news about her father have shocked Eve deeply. I would stay to care for her if I didn’t trust you with my life. With my future wife. That is why I chose not to tell her I am Winterton. She cannot take so many shocks at the same time. I will tell her, but not yet. Let her get over her father’s identity first and the death of King.”

A jug of cool beer stood on the table, condensation running down the engraved glass on the outside. Alex hefted it and poured some for himself. Julius refused the offer with a shake of his head. One drop fell on the linen tablecloth as Alex returned the jug to its tray. Julius stared at it.

Eve was entirely different to Caroline. He was doing the right thing this time. He was older and so was she, old enough to know their own minds. His parents would not be pleased, but he was indifferent to the way they felt about this matter. He wanted Eve, and he would have her. Nobody would gainsay him. But she still did not know she was marrying Lord Winterton.

Alex was one of the few people he would trust to care for her, but short of rushing her to town, that was all he could do. The magistrate might take it amiss if he spirited her away, even if he returned to the village, and Julius had no mind for his wedding to have more guests than he had invited. He would arrange matters to his liking first, as he always did.

Hence the journey to London.

“Tell the magistrate I have been called away on urgent business but I’ll return within the week. I am merely another witness, however, and a necessarily biased one, so I would not be a good person to call in the eyes of the court.”

Alex gave a long whistle. “You won’t get to London and back in a week.”

“I will if I use your livestock.”

“What?” Alex sat bolt upright, gripping the arms of his chair. You’re serious, aren’t you?” Sighing, he released his death grip on the wooden arm rests. “I suppose you want the travelling chariot, too.”

“I’ve already ordered the horses put to it.”

“Feel free to order my horseflesh as you please, my lord,” Alex said with a wry twist to his mouth.

“You won’t need it,” Julius said briskly. “And you know I will take good care of it. I’ll have one of my own vehicles brought back with me, so I have a conveyance suitable for my bride.”

“And how will you explain the crest on the door?”

“I will have told her by then. I should tell her before we are married, should I not?” Taking care, as he always did when something touched him dangerously closely, Julius showed every indication of control, as if he had planned everything. He finished the chop he no longer wanted and drank his tea before he spoke again. “I’m sure Eve will be delighted to discover her new circumstances.”

In fact he was far from sure Eve wanted to be a countess. Left to herself, she would probably prefer to become the wife of a gentleman, even the Cit Julius had led her to believe he was. When he considered losing her, a premonition crawled up his spine. The marriage service itself made no mention of titles. She did not have to know until the deed was done. Then he would have her, and he would make good and show her what she could be.

In the fullness of time she would make a magnificent duchess.

He pushed back his chair, gave Alex a civil farewell, and made to leave the room. Just before he did, Alex said, “Do you know who the magistrate is?”

He turned, keeping his features carefully schooled into mild interest. “I feel sure you are about to tell me.”

“Sir Henry Fulworth.”

“Ah. He will not create problems.”

“He might, if he knows who you are and why you came here.”

Julius shrugged. “Then don’t tell him.”

* * * *

Eve slept far later than she was used to, but then, she’d had a tiring day. A tiring night too, come to that. She had slept much better than her wont, held closely by the man she was to marry. Rolling on to her back, she tucked her hands behind her head and stared up. In the modern style, the bed had a canopy suspended from the ceiling and no posts at the end, only at the head.

The details of the lovely room imprinted themselves on her while she lay and thought and tried to make sense of what had happened. Last night she had killed a man, someone she knew. Had thought she had known, she should say. But when she tried to recall the scene in detail, other images intervened. The sight of a naked Julius prime amongst them. The image swam before her eyes, much more vivid than anything else. She would never forget the moment he had come inside her for the first time, watching her all the while, that tiny crease between his brows.

She had to admit, even if it was only to herself, that she would have invited him into her bed whatever his intentions.

One day she would bear his children. He had a daughter already, one she had not met, but Eve would have few problems with a six-year-old. She had planned a governess career. Now she would be a wife.

Her children would be related to royalty. She turned the idea over, examined it. Found she cared little. She would never acknowledge the connection. What good would it do? It would only plunge her and her children into turmoil, and that was best forgotten. One thing he said had resonated with her. When she married, she would be Eve Vernon. She could leave the rest behind. If anyone caught up with her, she would laugh them to scorn.

Someone scratched at the door. Startled, she said, “Come!” and a maid entered, the same one as the night before. She bore a tray with a pot of tea and a plate of toast.

“Good morning, madam. If you wish to dress, breakfast is being served below.”

Staying in this lovely house certainly had its advantages. At home, she would have got her own food, or at least helped the maid set it out. The maid who also cooked. They employed all of two maids and one footman. They sent out the laundry, and Eve and her mother helped when they could.

In a week, her life would change. In a week, she’d be married. She shook her head. No, it still made no sense. She couldn’t believe it. Not until it happened, if it ever did.

The maid brought in an armful of silk and draped it carefully over a chair. Eve gazed at it in wonder. The fine green fabric was probably fashioned in Spitalfields and rippled over the chair in a rarefied way that breathed “costly.”

“Her ladyship sent the gown for you and hopes it will serve,” said the maid.

“Could someone go to my home and collect my belongings?” she asked.

“I believe his lordship has already given the order, after talking to your lady mother,” the woman said.

Goodness, what time was it? Her attention flew to the delicate clock on the mantel. Nine o’clock! She’d never slept so late before.

She had better accept the use of the gown or she might offend her ladyship. That would never do. That was why she allowed the maid to array her in the gorgeous gown. It fell over a quilted petticoat, in lieu of a hooped skirt, and so would be deemed undress, but when she examined her appearance in the mirror over the frankly indulgent dressing table, she looked more imposing than she could ever remember being in her life. There was even a little lace apron to go over the top, as unlike any apron Eve had ever owned before as a tent was to a palace.

Instead of Eve’s customary linen cap, which kept her hair tidy for the day, the maid pinned a little lace piece of nothing that only gave everyday caps a slight nod of acquaintance. She had coiled Eve’s hair into a shining knot at the back of her head, leaving a lock at the back to curl flirtatiously over one shoulder.

Only one thing marred Eve’s delight in her appearance. Julius was not here to see it. She’d stayed awake until the wheels of a coach rumbling down the drive indicated his departure. Eve had gritted her teeth against the urge to rush to the window and watch the vehicle depart, as if she were some kind of lovesick female.

Which in a way, she was. The wonder of the night before remained with her. Even the knowledge the maid who changed the sheets would see the evidence of her downfall and no doubt transmit it to the rest of the staff did not cloud her sunny mood as she followed the maid to the breakfast-parlor.

Sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating the golden hair of a woman sitting at the table. As Eve entered, her ladyship looked up with a smile as bright as the day. “Good morning.”

Eve dropped a curtsey. “Good morning, your ladyship.”

Lady Ripley grimaced. “Connie, if you please.”

Her mother sat primly on the other side of the table, so when Connie indicated the chair next to her, Eve had to take it.

Lady Ripley—Connie—was breathtakingly beautiful. A clean linen fichu was pinned around her neck, tucked into the neckline and fastened the front of her gown in lieu of a stomacher, but her cap was as frivolous as the one Eve wore, only bearing long lappets teasing her shoulders. Her pearly skin gleamed in the light, and when Eve took her seat with the help of the footman standing silently by, she could smell Connie’s gently perfumed presence. Like another being had descended from Olympus and settled in this pretty room.