She lifted one shoulder in an attempt at nonchalance. “I know. But I am also a woman who has had far too little fun up to this point in my life.” His pupils dilated. “If you want to be my accomplice, you need only accept the invitation, Ian.” His eyes slid closed as his name crossed her lips. She experienced a thrill at the realization that she did have power. It was heady, indeed. He pressed his forehead to hers and took a deep breath. They stayed in that moment for several heartbeats until he released her and stepped away.
There was a slight creak on the stairs. They’d left the door open and Juliette stepped out, followed by Ian. Lady Sommerfeld paused in her descent, her pale hand upon the polished banister. It appeared that the butler had notified her of Juliette’s arrival and her friend had come to greet her.
Lady Sommerfeld’s indigo eyes looked from Juliette to Ian and back again. She gave the two of them a smile, but it was clear she sensed the tension. The air was thick with it.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ian inclined his head and retrieved his medical bag. “Good day, ladies.” He showed himself out.
Only after the heavy door shut securely behind him, did Juliette look back up at her friend still frozen on the stairs.
“Well,” Lady Sommerfeld began airly; “that was quite interesting.”
∞∞∞
“I’ve never seen Ian so worked up before,” Lady Sommerfeld chuckled over the spread of tea and biscuits set between them. “He’s normally such a calm, even man.”
Juliette pulled her lips between her teeth, trying not to grin like a madwoman. To have confirmation that she shook the even-keeled physician was thrilling. She’d spent the last half an hour explaining to her friend all that had transpired, and all of her motivations behind planning this country house party. And all she hoped might come of it.
Juliette had worried about how Lady Sommerfeld might receive her plans, but she’d reminded herself how supportive she’d been in the beginning. And this conversation was only confirmation of that.
“I’m never quite sure whether he wants to throttle me or kiss me again.”
“Again?” her friend’s auburn brows flew up toward her hairline. “That is a good sign.”
Juliette set down her teacup and saucer. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but it still baffles me why you’re being so supportive of…this.” Juliette’s cheeks began to burn. “Why you’re helping to push us together.”?“Plainly? Ian has never done anything he hasn’t wanted to do. I may help nudge him in the right direction, but I am by no means influencing his obvious interest in you. He also has far too little fun in his life.”
The last words made Juliette’s heart skip.
They sounded so similar to the words she'd recently spoken to Ian. Perhaps the two of them needed this more than she'd thought…
"Don't misinterpret my actions, though," Meredith continued; "I am by no means condoning complete ruination.” The pointed look she shot Juliette made her cheeks warm. “I'm merely…being lenient in allowing a dalliance. You are both two consenting adults here. You know your minds. Besides, I've come to know you quite well over the past several years, and Ian, well, I’ve known him since I was a girl—I suppose it's closer to two decades at this point. My, but doesn't that make one feel rather old."
Juliet nearly laughed with a very unladylike snort but stopped just shy. If Lady Sommerfeld was anything, it surely wasn't “old.” If anything, she felt more like a sister than a matron; to be honest; the same went for the Duchess of Morton. The three of them made quite the trio. Lady Sommerfeld, widowed at a young age after being married off to a man far older than she, only to marry the mysteriously injured Viscount Sommerfeld. Lady Morton, married and abandoned all within a day. And Juliette...the sheltered spinster sister of an earl who cared for her so very deeply that he inadvertently stifled every aspect of her life in the name of protection.
Well, no more.
Juliette had quite literally had a taste of desire and there was no turning back.
“Knowing both your personalities as I do, I believe you complement one another quite well. And every girl should experience a little love affair in her life.”
Juliette hadn’t had a mother in almost ten years and she’d always wondered what it might be like to have a sister. Currently, she imagined it would be a great deal like having Meredith—filled with all sorts of delightful trouble and mischief.
Chapter Nine
Juliette spent the next two weeks preparing their country house for the party. She had to coordinate shipping her necessities, but it was rather convenient to have a fair stock of things already in the country. The staff had to be notified to open and air out the rooms for guests. The stores had to be counted and restocked. She’d sketched out a general menu, but looked forward to meeting with their housekeeper and cook to finalize everything. She took great pains to plan outings and activities. There was still much to be done, but she tried to accomplish as much as she could from London. By the time Ethan was ready to leave, she was fairly bouncing in place in anticipation. Of course, she had to be particularly careful to temper her excitement, lest Ethan wonder why she was inordinately excited about a rather small, relaxed house party.
In addition to Ian, Lord and Lady Sommerfeld, and the Duchess of Morton, several of her brother’s friends would also be attending. She’d balanced out their numbers by inviting a few eligible women from her reading society—friends who would be grateful for the opportunity to be out of London and enjoy the freedoms to be experienced in the country.
The day before they departed from London, Juliette received a note from Ian. The single line of slanted writing indicated he would do his best to attend if his schedule permitted it.
Then, a few hours later, a second delivery arrived…as if the sender had debated about forwarding it along to her. When she opened it up (safely away from her brother’s prying eyes, just in case), she found a small, old book, well-worn and well-loved. It was barely bigger than her hand, with yellowed pages and a fragile brown fabric cover smudged with years of tiny fingerprints. She opened the cover to find a lilting language and plate line drawings illuminating the stories within.
It was a Gaelic book for children. A note fluttered out from between the pages and into her lap. It was a small scrap of parchment with only two words in the same sprawling, masculine script as earlier:Start simple.
Juliette smiled instantly, keenly aware of just how sweet a gesture the book was.
“Another book for your reading society?”
Juliette jumped, nearly dropping the book and the note to the floor as her brother strode into the parlor. She hadn’t expected to see him again until supper, but there he was, carrying a thick book along with him.
