Ethan set aside his book, propping it open on the arm of the chair, and eyed her closely. “You’ve been uncommonly testy as of late, Jules.”
“I know, I’m sorry for that.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t quite know what’s gotten into me.” His piercing eyes continued to bore into her. He recognized there was more to it than that. Her twin knew her better than anyone; he’d always been able to tell when something was troubling her, no matter how well she hid it. It had been a connection they’d shared from birth—their mother had called it their “gift.”
“You seem restless,” Ethan commented. “The Season is nearly over. Perhaps it’s time for a change of scenery and some fresh air. We don’t have any pressing invitations at the moment, and any of my remaining business can be handled from the country. Perhaps we can retire from London early this year?”
Juliette gave a noncommittal tilt of her head. While it sounded lovely and she loved their family’s country home, it meant she would have to miss a couple of their Reading Society meetings…not to mention her plans with Ian would well and truly be over before they’d even begun.
But maybe that was for the best.
Hadn’t she just been pondering how clumsy and ill-conceived her plan was? The chance was slim that her brother would approve of her receiving Gaelic lessons from Dr. McCullom, even less that he would allow them to be alone enough for Juliette to achieve the other half of her goal…
Her heart sank a little lower in her breast.
“If you’d like, maybe you can throw together a small house party? I know how you enjoy organizing such things.”
The task was usually reserved for the wives of lords, but Ethan was as yet unmarried and, as far as she and anyone else saw, had no hint of an inclination to do so anytime soon. Juliette had happily filled in for this part of the social role of countess ever since it was clear she was not going to be snatched up on the Marriage Mart. She was fully aware that Ethan used it as a way to distract and entertain her since she was usually kept under lock and key. She would be allowed to organize and host such events on his behalf as the pseudo-lady of the household.
And he usually gave her fairly free reign to do as she wished with her plans.
Juliette perked up.
Perhaps this was the answer she needed.
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” she replied evenly, keeping her excitement in check. She would spend the next several days plotting away, and, thanks to Dr. McCullom’s proclamation that she take additional rest, she had nothing but time.
∞∞∞
For his part, Ian lay awake late that evening wondering how in the hell he’d been goaded into agreeing to this farce. Juliette may be young and sheltered, but she wasfarfrom stupid. It was at once terrifying and exciting.
∞∞∞
It was three weeks before Ian heard from Juliette again; he’d actually begun to allow himself to believe she’d come to her senses and abandoned her foolish aim. He should have been pleased that the chit had stopped pursuing him, but there was no denying the pang of disappointment he experienced as day after day passed and it became more of a possibility.
In the meantime, Ian dove back into his work and tried to clear Juliette’s eager lips and heady nectar from his memory.
At night, when sleep eluded him, he would work on his passion project—something near and dear to his heart; a goal that he hoped was not too far off. As long as his practice continued to flourish as it already was, with any luck, he’d soon have to consider scouring medical schools for an apprentice. He needed someone with the right schooling, but still malleable enough where he could shape them to his methods and proven practices.
It was late in the evening and Ian was rifling through his files for a particular one when he accidentally knocked over the stack of post Mrs. Brown had left for him. He stooped to pick up the scattered mess and, within the bunch, there was an innocuous-seeming envelope of thick cream paper with elegant, swooping script. Intrigued, he stood and retrieved his penknife to slice it open. Though he recognized the impression in the midnight black seal, he didn’t allow his mind to jump to conclusions until his eyes scanned the writing once, twice.
Juliette, on behalf of her brother, the Earl of Hopesend, invited him to a house party in the country. And it was to be a week in duration.
Beneath his thumb at the bottom of the page was a slightly smudged, hasty postscript. There was no doubt as to its author.
Juliette had issued him a challenge:Tha an duais as motha a’ leantainn a’ chunnart as motha.
That little minx.
The greatest reward follows the greatest risk.
Ian shook his head. My, but she’d been a busy little nymph.
Chapter Eight
“And you’ve been feeling well? No nausea or pains?” Ian asked as he picked up his bag.
“Truly, I have not,” Meredith replied with a laugh. “The answer was the same five and ten minutes ago.” Her elegant features glowed with good cheer and health. She still hadn’t told her husband about her pregnancy, which meant Ian had been forced to time his visit while the viscount was meeting with his solicitors. Despite her continued subterfuge, Ian could tell his friend was growing more and more optimistic as time went on. She’d even felt the first flutters of quickening in her womb and they estimated the pregnancy to be nearing twenty weeks along, all very good signs, indeed.
“And you will—”
