The Wily Wastrel Page 11

  The others regarded him with some amusement. “Do we really wish to find out?” Harry countered. “It is an easy enough precaution to take and if unneeded there is no harm done. But if anyone is watching the house, well, I should like to think we would be able to outwit them. But certainly you may leave first.”

  James made no more objection. Nor did the others. They moved to a small room off the foyer from which they could leave when Harry directed them to do so.

  Philip remained in the study with his wife. What his servants thought of the odd goings-on, he did not care to question too closely. Instead, when the others were gone, he drew Emily onto his lap.

  “So my love,” he said, tracing a pattern on the back of her hand. “What do you think of becoming a spy?”

  She brushed away the finger and pretended disdain. “I am nothing of the sort. Merely a… a conduit for information, I should say! And if I can be of help to your brothers, why, I am happy to do so, of course.”

  “How about of help to me?” Philip whispered, nibbling at her ear.

  Emily laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think that could be arranged,” she replied solemnly.

  And if what followed might, by some, have been considered scandalous, well, Emily and Philip were married and it was no business of anyone else, anyway!

  In the other room, as Sir Thomas and Frederick Baines patiently waited their turns to leave, their thoughts were very far from Emily and Philip. Harry was talking quietly with James in the foyer and no one was paying the slightest attention to them.

  Sir Thomas said. “Am I correct in guessing, Freddy, that you will go yourself to the coast?”

  Baines hesitated, then nodded. “I ought to have known you would guess! Yes, I am leaving tonight. I shall assist James with his experiments and guard his back, if need be. When we know that all is working well, then I shall take his place in sending out the signals. Eventually I shall find someone to replace me, but not until we are certain that all is going as it should.”

  “I wish others would value you as they should,” Sir Thomas said with a heavy sigh.

  A grim look formed at the corners of the other man’s mouth. “It is enough,” he said, “that those whose opinions I value do so. As for the others, well, I am who I am and will answer to no one for it.”

  There was no time to say more for Harry was signaling them that it was Frederick Baines’s turn to leave. He clapped his hat onto his head, drew on his gloves, and with a wry smile sallied forth. Sir Thomas watched him from the window. He could think of no man he would trust more to watch over James or to assist in Harry’s latest project.

  ———

  It was just as well that he was the first to leave, James thought, as he hurried into the hotel where he and Juliet were still staying. He was tired and he missed his wife. It was a most unsettling notion, but nevertheless he did.

  He paused in the doorway of the small sitting room of their suite and watched her pace before the empty fireplace. Something was different about her appearance and it took him a moment to realize what it might be.

  “Is that a new dress?” he asked.

  She started and whirled around to face him. Now what was there to cause her to color up in such a way?

  “Yes. Do you like it?” she asked.

  James could not understand why she should be nervous but he could see that she was. He moved forward and smiled reassuringly. “Very much,” he said. “You should always dress in such bold colors and in such a style. It is very much out of the common way. Who was the modiste?”

  Now she colored even more and muttered a name he could not quite hear. When James frowned and asked her to repeat it, Juliet fluttered her hands and said, “Her name is Mrs. Wise. I collect she is new to this business but I think she has a remarkable eye. She has also had a difficult life and I should like to help her. If you do not mind.”

  “Patronize whomever you wish,” James said, thoroughly bewildered by now. “If Mrs. Wise can rig you out this beautifully, then I should indeed think you would wish to continue to have her make your gowns. And of course you may help her if you wish. Indeed, your generous heart is one of the things I most admire about you, Juliet.”

  For a moment she smiled. Indeed, she looked quite happy, James thought. And then her smile crumpled to be replaced by a look of dismay. “You think I looked an antidote before, don’t you?” she said.

  James blinked. He did not at once answer for he had the notion that whatever he said would only upset her more. “Why should you think such a thing?” he asked at last.

  Juliet sank onto the nearest chair and clasped her hands in her lap, looking for all the world like a young schoolgirl. She took a deep breath and met his gaze squarely.

  “Because each morning I rise and you are gone. And I am left to my own company until evening. And every evening you speak with me a little, but then you send me to bed before you. What am I to think but that you dislike my company? That you found my appearance distressing, my conversation irksome, and my person of very little interest to you.”

  He tried a jest. “Your person of little interest? Nonsense! Does it truly seem that way when I come to you at night?”

  She went pale now but her voice was steady as she said, “Perhaps not. But you always say you do not mean to disturb me and it is I who find myself the forward one. Perhaps you wish I would not do so? Perhaps you would truly prefer that I did not disturb you?”

  Now it was James who was shaken. He found himself kneeling before his bride and taking her hands in his, kissing each one in turn.

  “My dearest Juliet,” he said, “I had no notion you harbored such fears! We shall go away, I promise. Tomorrow. To the coast. There are things I shall need to do there but I promise I shall have more time to spend with you.”

  Her expression had softened as he spoke. But these last words caused her to snatch her hands out of his and rise to her feet. Indeed, she put some distance between them before she grasped the back of a chair, as though to give herself support before she confronted him.

  “I see. What sorts of things? And how long do you expect we shall be there?”

  James could not meet her eyes. He was in for it now and there was little or nothing to be done about it. He tried for an air of carelessness, “Oh, I don’t know. A week or two. Perhaps a month. You will like the fresh, salt air. And I’ve some experiments to conduct.”

  “Some experiments?” Her voice held hope, even eagerness. “May I help you with them?”

  Now he colored up. “No!” Then, as though aware that his hasty exclamation might sound too harsh, he added, “That is to say, you would only be bored.”

  Juliet took a step toward him, and now he could see there was a martial glint in her eyes. “No, I shouldn’t,” she countered.

  “It will be at night,” he added, taking a step back.

  Juliet continued to advance. “I don’t care,” she said, clenching her teeth.

  “It wouldn’t be proper!” he replied, a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “Proper?” Her voice came out as a squawk of protest. “Proper? Was it proper when you showed me the engine and we spent the night together? You did not seem to care so greatly for propriety then! Are you regretting the match we were forced into?”

  Visibly shaken, he took a step toward her and held out his hand. “No! Of course not, Juliet!”

  “Then why?” she demanded fiercely. “Why will you not let me be a part of this?”

  “I cannot.”

  “But why? Have you taken me in distaste already?”

  This time the desperation was in her voice and he swiftly closed the gap between them. James drew Juliet into his arms and held her close against his breast. His voice was soothing, his hand gentle as he stroked her hair and tried to answer his bride.

  “Shhh, Juliet. It is not that, I swear! I am glad I married you! But I cannot let you help with this. It is not only my project. I cannot put you at any risk.”

/>   “Risk?”

  Juliet echoed the word even as she pushed herself free. “What risk?”

  There was alarm in her voice and now she was the one who looked very pale. James blanched and tried to repair the damage. He only made matters worse.

  “Did I say risk? I only meant,” he said, thinking quickly, “that is, we shall be at the coast. I, that is, there are smugglers, they say, along the coast. One or more may take exception if I am in their way or inadvertently cause them to have to alter their plans.”

  Her reaction was not what he had expected. With a fierceness that surprised both of them, Juliet said, “I shan’t let you do it, then! Try your experiments somewhere else! I shan’t let you put yourself at risk!”

  But this was too much for James. He drew himself to his full height and said in a voice that would brook no opposition, “Juliet, you are my wife. You have no right to try to tell me what I may and may not do.”

  He was right. Juliet knew it only too well. It was the sort of thing she had been told all her life. But still she rebelled. Inwardly she might shudder at what her mother would say if she overheard this conversation but outwardly she stood her ground.

  “I don’t care,” she said with a sniff. “You are my husband and your welfare is my concern. I don’t want you to put yourself at risk!”

  And then he understood that she truly cared. He drew in a deep breath and said, in the gentlest voice Juliet had ever heard, “Tomorrow we leave for the coast. And I shall do these experiments. I cannot explain, but it is a matter of honor and duty. I have given my word and I must keep it. And even if I had not, there are lives at stake. I cannot turn my back on them.”

  Juliet wanted to continue to defy him but she could not. Not when he spoke of duty and honor and saving lives. And yet she could not trust herself to speak. Instead she nodded. Finally she was able to command her voice enough to ask, “What time do we leave?”

  “Nine o’clock in the morning.”

  Juliet nodded again. And then, because it still hurt that he would not confide in her, she turned on her heel and left the room.

  James was very much mistaken if he thought the discussion over. He was about, she vowed, to discover just how stubborn his bride could be when she chose. One way or another she would persuade him to include her in his plans.

  But Juliet had no chance to try. Though she lay awake almost until dawn, he never came to join her in the bed. And if her pillow was still damp with tears when Margaret came to wake her, both of them pretended not to notice.

  Chapter 15

  James stared out the window of their traveling coach. His mood was as gloomy as his expression. The situation was absurd! It still rankled that Juliet had ripped up at him the night before. And refused to speak to him over breakfast. Now she sat as far away from him as possible in the carriage and pretended that the dreary rain was of more interest than he was.

  Didn’t she understand how important this all was? And that there were some things a man simply could not tell his wife? Didn’t she understand that he would have much preferred to have come to her last night than stay up and work as he had had to do?

  James had the most bizarre impulse to reach over and pull Juliet onto his lap. And then to kiss her until her stiff posture gave way to the clinging embrace to which he had become accustomed of late.

  But he did nothing of the sort. George said he must begin as he meant to go on. That Juliet must understand that he was her husband and she, as his wife, was obliged to follow his wishes. Still, he tried to coax her out of the sullens.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” he asked.

  “Unwell?” she echoed warily.

  “Yes, unwell. I believe that traveling in a carriage is often unsettling. My brother’s wife is always subject to the megrims when they travel.”

  She stiffened and looked away, then back again. “It is not the weather which has given me the megrims,” she said. “It is your behavior.”

  Well, that was blunt speaking. James tried to understand her. He truly did. But a man had only a certain amount of patience.

  “Dash it all, this is absurd!” he said aloud. “I feel very much as though I were in my workshop handling volatile substances. One false step and there could be very unfortunate consequences. But at least if I were there, I should know what to expect. With women, with you, there is no knowing, no predicting, what might possibly occur. And that makes this all feel far more dangerous than any experiment in which I have yet engaged.”

  She gaped at him and then she laughed. He ought to have been offended, but instead James found himself laughing with her. And he reached out. She came into his arms willingly and let him pull her close against his chest.

  In a tiny voice she said, “Please will you not let me help with whatever you plan to do?”

  James sighed. “I wish that I could,” he said, his voice as stern as he could make it. “But I was not joking or exaggerating when I said there might be danger. And I will not put you at risk.”

  Instantly she pulled away and moved to the opposite side of the carriage. She crossed her arms over her chest. She glared at him. It was the tear trickling down her cheek, and the surreptitious way she tried to wipe it away, that decided James. He also changed seats so that he was right next to her and he took her hand in his.

  “My dear, please do not be unhappy,” he said. “I want us to enjoy our time at the coast. I shall not always be working on my experiments. There shall be plenty of time for us to walk along the strand and do all manner of things together. Perhaps even talk. We have done scarcely enough of that since we were married.”

  Juliet looked at him then and there was hope, albeit tinged with wariness, in her eyes. James felt himself wanting to say or do something more that would please her.

  He raised her gloved hand to his lips and pressed a fervent kiss on the palm. “We have not had much of a honeymoon, thus far,” he told her, “but I swear that shall all change once we reach the coast.”

  And then he put an arm around Juliet and she allowed him to draw her head against his shoulder. To be sure, the top of her bonnet chafed his chin, but he was not about to cavil at such a minor detail. Not when she was once again in such a complaisant mood.

  It was something of a surprise to James, the strength of the desire he felt in his breast to protect her and to make her happy. But it was not an altogether unpleasant sensation. He liked the notion, he discovered, of taking care of her. If, he thought sourly, she would only let him!

  ———

  The Cock and Bull Inn was the most elegant establishment in the seaside town of Folkestone. This was not saying a great deal. Still, the proprietor of the Cock and Bull promised to do his best to make them happy.

  “I’ll have me missus kill and cook our plumpest chicken in your honor,” he promised.

  “Er, how kind of you,” James said.

  “Aye, well, now, there’s not many Quality as stops here,” the proprietor explained. “Mostly they goes to Dover. It’s special like for us to have you here.”

  He seemed to wait expectantly for an explanation and James found himself blushing as he said, “Well, you see, it is our honeymoon and we don’t precisely wish to encounter anyone we know, as we might in Dover.”

  “Aye, I can understand, sir,” the proprietor said with a wink.

  The man even kept an impassive expression when James explained that he tended to be restless at night and often went for walks and that would not present a problem, would it, when he returned?

  As though scenting a handsome vail, the proprietor solemnly assured James that nothing he required would be a problem for the Cock and Bull. And then he had his eldest daughter show Juliet up to the inn’s finest room.

  “For I know you will be wishing to rest after your journey,” the proprietor told her with an air of wanting to be of service.

  Juliet did not object. She was tired and her nerves seemed stretched to the point that she did not know how she would get thro
ugh the rest of the day.

  To be sure, James had been all that was kind, and even affectionate, in the carriage. But he still meant to go out on his own, to do his experiments without her. And that was something she could not bear nor, she silently vowed as she followed the girl upstairs, was it something she meant to allow.

  James was about to discover that he ought not to underestimate the woman he had married. And once he found out how useful she could be, surely he would forgive her completely what she meant to do.

  So as they climbed the stairs, Juliet began to engage the girl ahead of her in quiet conversation. By the time she had been shown to the room, her bonnet removed, and a basin of water brought, she and the girl were in a fair way to making friends with one another. At the very least, they had reached an understanding.

  An understanding of which she was certain James would not approve. But then, by the time he knew, it would be much too late for him to do anything about it. How fortunate it was, Juliet thought with a smug smile, that the coach carrying Margaret and the rest of the luggage had not yet arrived. For Margaret, as much as James, would have tried to stop her if she had been there.

  By the time Margaret and the baggage arrived, with word that James was waiting for her in the private parlor below, Juliet was ready. She was wearing one of the gowns Mrs. Wise had made her, this one in her favorite shade of green, and it gave her a confidence she sorely needed.

  James looked at her, a question in his eyes, when she came into the room. She smiled at him, albeit a trifle tremulously, and came forward to take the hand he held out to her.

  “I don’t wish us to quarrel,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  “Nor do I,” she answered, meeting his gaze squarely.

  He drew her over to the table. “I have arranged for tea and some refreshments for us. It was a long and tiring journey and you ate scarcely a morsel on the way.”

  He held out a chair for her and Juliet let him seat her. Still, she did not reach for her plate or cup. Instead, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap, she said, “You are very kind to me, James.”