Veiled in Blue (4 page)

Sometimes a man had to get away. Julius’s habit of travelling as Mr. Vernon would have given his mother conniptions, but she had no idea of his occasional excursions as a simple untitled gentleman. She would have no idea he even knew how to shave himself or dress himself for that matter. As far as Julius knew, his father had never shaved himself in the whole of his life.

He poured water in the small washing bowl on the chest of drawers, lathered some soap, and began the task, squinting into the small cracked mirror hanging above the basin.

Twenty minutes later, respectably dressed, he viewed his reflection and grinned. Nobody would give him a second glance if he walked past them in the street. In this village? He knew country life well enough to realize they would be interested in the stranger in their midst, so he had better go downstairs and order something to eat while letting small morsels of his history drop.

The rickety stairs heralded his presence more effectively than a trumpet blast, but only a few people glanced up when he entered the taproom and asked if they were serving food. Several people already occupied the place. He ignored two people who were obviously travelling on after eating. They would not care who he was, or he them. As long as they didn’t recognize him, he had no interest in them. He doubted his own household would recognize him in this getup.

He enjoyed the meal—hot, well cooked, and fresh—and the solitude afforded him when he ate. The landlady brought out his food herself, and he took the opportunity to ask about Woolton Manor.

“Did you see it on your way past?”

“No, I have business with his lordship.”

Her pale blue eyes rounded, and her grey-flecked eyebrows went up. “My, sir, are you a guest?”

“Merely one of his lordship’s men of business.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “Ah. Well it’s about eight miles away, if you ride. There’s a footpath if you want to walk, and that’s much shorter.”

“I have a horse.”

“Eating its head off, the ostler said,” the woman remarked. She wriggled her shoulders, and her linen fichu slipped a little. She hitched it back up and offered Julius a four-toothed grin. “Should you want it today, sir?”

“Ah, no. I’ll walk today. Do people from the household generally pass by this place?” If they did, his goose was cooked, because they’d know him for sure. Julius had never visited the manor before. Alex had chosen it because it was out of the way. He had brought Connie to this place for a secluded honeymoon, and apart from the occasional visit to town, they’d remained here ever since. Julius would shortly find out what the appeal of Woolton was, although he guessed it was less what than who. Alex had fallen head over heels for Connie, and Julius’s previously wayward cousin had become a family man.

He prayed it would never happen to him. Julius enjoyed his life exactly as it was. If he married, he would do it with a clear head this time. Not in haste and not to a woman he barely knew. He wanted a sensible woman who would give him sons and help with his daughter. Nothing more.

He took another mouthful of devilled kidney, enjoying the spicy flavor.

After his repast, Julius left the inn to explore his surroundings. He strolled past the pretty church, fifteenth century from the shape of the windows and the tower, with its peaceful graveyard, the stones neatly regimented, although some had tilted to one side. It only gave them a picturesque air. Along the side of the church in the shelter of a dry stone wall a path led away from the village, presumably to Woolton.

The village was a prosperous one, the buildings clustered around the green solidly built and relatively modern. A few ramshackle cottages stood farther out, but Julius did not intend to explore them. He’d seen the inside of some of the cottages on his father’s estate, and he had no wish to repeat it. However even they were in reasonable repair, the thatch thick and well trimmed and the windows shuttered.

A sense of freedom filled his soul. He was on holiday. He was Mr. Vernon of London, a working man with no family he had yet admitted to.

He kicked away from the tree and continued his walk. Except, of course, he had better keep to the truth if he was ever to tell Eve who and what she was. He should leave her alone, have a watch put on her in case his enemies caught up with her. During his walk he had seen nothing untoward, nothing that would suggest anyone else suspected anything. She was safer if she remained hidden. Having once experienced her haunting beauty, he had a severe disinclination to leave her alone.

As he strolled back toward the green, a carriage bowled past him, sending up a cloud of dust from the rain-parched road. Julius brushed himself down. By the time he reached the inn, the carriage was outside the house across on the other side, together with another. The Mertons must be having an at home day.

So why should he not call? It would be polite to enquire after her health. In all his perambulations, he had not forgotten Eve, merely tried to put her at the back of his mind. But the memory of her sweet body pressed against his proved persistent, and despite his better judgment, he acknowledged a longing to feel it again.

Julius strode around the perimeter of the green. Two sheep grazed peacefully there, keeping the grass down. A pond in the middle featured a few ducks swimming on the water and waddling around the edge. Behind the pond, a great tree grew, similar to the oak he was leaning against.

As he rounded the edge of the green, a brown duck waddled in his direction. With a wry grin, he showed the creature his empty hands. It carried on coming and then veered off and headed for the inn instead. It probably had a regular port of call there. Just like a London gossip, crowding him for tidbits.

Smiling, Julius strolled through the open gate and rapped smartly on the door. A servant opened it, and he delivered his message.

“Mr. Vernon, here to enquire after Miss Merton’s health.” He had no cards, not in that name, at any rate.

The maid glared at him before turning abruptly and striding into the shady depths of the house. A minute later, she returned. “If you’ll come this way, sir.” A woman of comfortable proportions, she seemed afflicted by a chill, as her sniff when she led him indoors proclaimed.

Since nobody had taken his hat or gloves, Julius stuffed his gloves in his pocket and removed his hat, holding it in one hand.

He entered a room already full. The modest space held, besides Miss Merton, an older lady, two gentlemen, and two other young ladies. The sun poured in through a window at the back of the house, which overlooked a charming private garden. Roses in the first flush of summer nodded their heads. The carefully tended bushes beyond surrounded a quaint bower with a seat made for courting.

A murky painting with a carved oak frame hung above the fireplace, depicting a country scene not too far removed from the one he recalled from his journey yesterday. The picture must once have been fresh and bright, but it was now smudged with soot and general household dirt, the thick impasto ingrained. Several vaguely repulsive china figures adorned the mantel itself, and the corner of the room boasted a set of shelves with yet more ornaments. Shepherds and harlequins were the least egregious of the figures.

Julius bowed, careful not to make it too elaborate.

Miss Merton’s beauty struck him anew. Cleaned and neatly dressed, she was a star fallen amongst hogs—and he included himself in that description. Julius did not miss the warmth in her eyes before she lowered her gaze.

“Mama, this was the gentleman who was kind enough to help me yesterday,” she said.

“Oh, sir!” The older lady flicked her fan open. The sticks were worn, but she flourished it well. “I am so grateful to you. My foolish daughter might have lain on the road all night were it not for you!”

What had Miss Merton said? What he had actually done was not something many mothers would approve of. He should probably have let her mount the horse and then walked by its side, but to hell with that.

Mrs. Merton introduced the other people present. Sir Henry Fulworth was the larger man, and Mr. King smaller and more fashionably dressed. The two gentlemen on the sofa had to move up to give Julius room. He perched on the edge and refused the delicate dish of tea offered to him by the older lady.

The gentleman next to him, who barely made concessions to admit Julius, and to be truthful, needed the space more than most, nodded civilly. “You are a stranger to Somerset, sir?”

Julius considered his answer. “Not entirely. It is such a lovely country, though I wonder why I haven’t remained here longer.” He gave Sir Henry his sweetest smile. “I’m a man of business from London to visit Lord Ripley. Considering his wife’s confinement, I judged it best to come here instead of allowing matters to wait.”

Sir Henry visibly relaxed. “I see. Then do you stay long?”

“As long as his lordship needs me.”

The man on the other end of the sofa, Mr. King, was watching the exchange carefully but taking no part in the conversation.

“And you, sir?” Julius asked him.

“Like you, I am not a native of Somerset, but I moved here last year. It suits me. I have a mind to stay for a while.”

That told Julius precisely nothing. The hair on the back of his neck prickled in undefined warning. “You are from London?”

“No, sir. I am from the north, originally. I am recently returned from Rome.”

Julius’s thoughts came to a screaming halt. Rome meant far more than a distant city. It was where Maria Rubio had given birth to her children. But no, it could not be. Many people visited Rome. Nevertheless, he would write a letter to London as soon as he returned to the inn and set enquiries in train.

Julius heaved a great sigh. “Rome is an enviable destination.”

“It is above all things lovely. But I confess I am pleased to be home again.”

While the men discussed local politics, Julius had a moment to address Miss Merton. “Have you fully recovered from your ordeal, ma’am?”

She met his gaze directly, her rich brown eyes revealing warmth. “Indeed I have, sir. As I told you, I had merely wrenched my ankle. If I had thought to rest by the side of the road, I probably would have recovered, but I was anxious to get home.”

“Quite rightly. You should not be roaming abroad after dark.”

“Indeed, sir, we have a great deal to thank you for,” her mother put in. “I dread to think what might have happened to her had you not come along!”

The sharp gaze of Mr. King flicked from Sir Henry to the quiet conversation Julius was having with Miss Merton.

Mr. King had already annoyed Julius by his perceptiveness. He had the look of a man interested in everything going on around him, and his answers about his origins had been as vague as he could get away with. Mr. King was definitely following everything going on in the room, including the apparently innocuous discussion between Julius and Miss Merton.

He nodded to Mrs. Merton. “It was my pleasure to be of service, ma’am. I could hardly leave a gently nurtured young lady to the terrors of the night.”

He glanced at Miss Merton when she made a noise that sounded deliciously like scoffing.

“Indeed I have much to thank you for, sir,” she said, her dancing eyes belying her prim tone.

“I would be happy to oblige you any time,” he answered in the same tone.

They were getting perilously close to flirting. Julius loved a woman who could flirt charmingly.

Fortune favored him toward the end of the half-hour, when he should have, by the rules of good behavior, taken his leave. Apparently convinced that although he worked for a living, Julius could behave like a gentleman, Sir Henry cleared his throat portentously before announcing, “If you are in the neighborhood for a time, Mr. Vernon, you might wish to consider attending my little evening’s entertainment. I hold a gathering every year, and I would be pleased to send you an invitation.”

Julius smiled. “It sounds utterly delightful, sir. If you are sure I won’t put out your numbers?”

“No, sir, I am inviting half the county.”

“I would be delighted, if I’m still in this part of the world.”

Sir Henry nodded graciously and picked up his tea-dish, taking a refreshing slurp. He replaced it carefully in its saucer before he spoke again. “Maybe you can prevail on his lordship to accompany you.”

So that was why Sir Henry had invited him. “Her ladyship has not been in the best of health, but I will certainly mention the affair to his lordship when I see him.”

It was time to take his leave. Julius got to his feet, automatically shaking out his coat skirts, although they were not nearly as voluminous as the ones he usually preferred. Cuffs were still monstrous and decorated with rows of buttons. The ones on this coat were plain brass but well-polished. He wore plain linen ruffles at the ends of his sleeves instead of his usual fine lace, and his neckcloth was similarly unadorned with lace. He trusted it was still well tied, though. He was not entirely without pride in his appearance.

He bowed, first to the older lady and then to Miss Merton, holding himself back from his usual elegance. In any case, there was not enough space in this room. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. It was good to find you recovered, Miss Merton, although I have yet to see you walk enough to satisfy me you are completely over your ordeal.”

As he’d hoped, she got to her feet immediately. “In that case, I will see you to the door, Mr. Vernon. You may observe my gait and satisfy yourself that I am completely recovered.”

With the beady stare of Mr. King fixed on them, she took Julius’s arm, and they left the room together.

Outside, in the small but neat hall, surprisingly servantless, he clapped his hat on his head. “I am still not entirely happy,” he said. “If you are walking in the village anytime soon, I can assure myself of your health.”

Her laughter was a totally enchanting gurgle, low in her throat. “I often take my mother’s dog for a constitutional walk before dinner. He’s an old spaniel, so I have to take my time.”

He enjoyed her swift acceptance of his delicate invitation. Her lovely face lit up when he spoke to her, her appreciation of him flattering, although he could not accept he was the only result.