She choked on her words and prayed he would accept her simple nod in response. She tucked it away against her hip, carefully disguising it beneath the folds of her skirt until she could slip away to her rooms and pack it safely away.
∞∞∞
Juliette was adjusting one last flower arrangement on the circular table in the entryway when the crunch of gravel and jangle of tack echoed up the long drive. The first of her guests were arriving, one by one, carriage by carriage. Lord and Lady Sommerfeld shared Lady Morton’s carriage. A few of her brother’s friends arrived on horseback, having sent their trunks ahead with their valets. One by one, they filtered inside, were greeted warmly, and shown to their rooms to freshen up after their journeys. As each one arrived, her anticipation only grew…until Ian’s hired private coach finally pulled into the drive. She experienced a small pang of guilt because she knew such a thing did not come cheaply; however, she really couldn’t have offered to send the Hopesend carriage back for him. Good lord, but what would Ethan have thought of that? Instead, Juliette chose to be honored that Ian had agreed to attend even though it was inconvenient for both his purse and his business.
She did her best to affect the calm, cool collection expected of a hostess, careful to wait the appropriate amount of time to greet Ian so he would not realize just how long she’d been shooting glances out the manor’s many front windows for his arrival.
The subtle glitter in his eyes, however, told her he knew she’d done just that.
His trunks and boxes were carried in one after another by the footmen. It was immediately apparent that he had taken her offer to bring his work to the house party.
“He and my husband’s brother share a similar penchant for packing ‘light,” murmured Lady Sommerfeld with a conspiratorial chuckle as Ian was led away, followed by the trail of luggage like ducklings. He’d been distant and composed upon greeting her, but Juliette feared her nerves and excitement were becoming too evident. He’d come, which meant he’d well and truly accepted her offer. And she couldn’t wait to get started.
∞∞∞
That evening, there was a light, informal supper served for those who wished to eat with company rather than retire to their rooms. As luck would have it, Juliette was the only lady in attendance; Lady Sommerfeld had been exhausted from traveling and the viscount had opted to stay with her; Lady Morton had a headache because she never seemed to remember that she always developed one when she read while traveling in a coach; the rest of Juliette’s friends had opted to stay in their rooms with their chaperones. This was, of course, not to say that Ethan’s friends weren’t perfectly polite to her, but it was exhausting being the only woman in attendance. It would normally have been considered inappropriate, but this was a relaxed country dinner and her brother’s watchful eyes never left her. As was his custom, he’d smoothly interject if he felt one of them was too interested in her. He needn’t have worried; the only thing more of a deterrent than a hawkeyed male relative would have been if she’d worn a dress made from angry bees.
Following dessert of berries and clotted cream atop a moist spongecake, the men excused themselves to chat over drinks and cigars in the library—of course, not until each one politely offered to refuse to leave her alone. She declined their offers gracefully, especially because she could tell they would all much rather enjoy whatever it was men discussed when they were outside of a female’s delicate ears…
Rather than sit alone in the large parlor, she decided to retire for the evening. It didn’t look as if much of anything exciting would happen that evening. The house was quiet. She could rest peacefully knowing she’d accomplished an uneventful start to the house party. Only…
Just the thought of Ian residing under the same roof as she made her pulse trip over itself like a gangly filly.
He hadn’t joined them for supper. She wondered if he’d eaten alone and was just then lying atop the comfortable bed in the room she’d chosen for him. Was he a restless sleeper, as busy in repose as he was during the day? Or did he sleep like the dead to recuperate from his neverending schedule?
Juliette was wrenched from her wayward thoughts when she reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear and noticed she’d lost one of her earrings.
“Drat,” she muttered. It must have been knocked loose during supper—the emerald earrings had been her grandmother’s and tended to come loose. She was exactly halfway to her rooms at that point; she could have continued on and sent her maid back to look for it, but that seemed needless. It would take far less time for her to retrace her steps and check the spot where she’d sat during the meal. Resolved to handle it herself, she turned around and headed back to the first-floor landing only to collide with a solid wall of man as it came around a blind corner to the same landing.
Large, warm hands caught her upper arms to steady her. Juliette’s breath caught harshly in her chest when she looked up into Ian’s ruggedly handsome face. All rational thought fled her and her brain melted into slush. Those well-formed lips of his tilted into a hint of a smile.
“Headed down to supper?” he asked, casting a glance at the small clock on the landing’s half-moon table. “I thought I’d missed it.”
“You did,” she started and then slowed her speech to sound a little less eager to be conversing with him. “I mean, yes. Supper was at half-seven.”
“A shame.” His thumbs stroked the skin between her cap sleeves and her long gloves once. Twice. Another time and she might just press herself against him there in plain view for anyone to see.
“A—Are you hungry? Let us find you something to eat.” She didn’t give him a chance to decline and latched onto a thread of boldness, taking his hand in hers and leading him back down the stairs to the ground floor.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.” His tone was hesitant, but the way his fingers intertwined with hers was unexpectedly warm and lovely. They fit.
“Not at all! I was headed back down anyway. Lost my earring, you see.” Juliette gestured to her naked earlobe and guided him toward the dining room after listening and confirming her brother and his friends were still occupied on the far side of the house. “We just need to make a quick detour to the dining room to find it, and then we can slip down to the kitchens to find you a bite.”
Reluctantly, she slid her hand from Ian’s as they entered the dining room. The efficient staff had begun cleaning as soon as she’d left the room and the footmen and maids froze in their tasks and greeted her with deference when she entered.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Lady Juliette?” inquired James, the under-butler.
“Thank you, no,” she replied with a smile. “I’ve just come to find—my earring!” She snapped up the glittering bauble from beneath the chair she’d sat in during the meal. Holding it aloft, she grinned triumphantly and affixed it to her ear. “There.” She turned back to Ian and tilted her chin to indicate they should leave through the door from which they’d entered. She led him back up the hallway, past the stairs, to a disguised doorway cleverly papered over to match the wall. “They’ll make a fuss if we ask them for food for you,” she explained. “It’s easier and quicker if we just do it ourselves. They’ve all worked so hard to ready the house and I’d rather not cause a stir this late in the evening.” She pressed open the servants’ doorway to the close flight of stairs used by the staff to traverse the full height of the house, from the basement kitchens to their private quarters on the topmost floor of the manor. A glance over her shoulder provided an amusing scene. The width of Ian’s shoulders made the narrow staircase seem even more so; indeed, he looked far too big to be attempting this route. The corners of his mouth were turned down in concentration.
“This seems like a great deal of trouble—”
“Not at all!”
He made a grunt of disbelief before his large hand cupped her elbow from behind to steady her as they turned on the landing. His skin was so warm, his palm slightly roughened from his work.
She stopped when they reached the lowest floor; Ian halted as closely behind her as they could without touching her. She could feel his heat along the length of her back and she had to fight the nearly overwhelming urge to lean back into him.
Instead, she glanced at Ian over her shoulder, pressing her finger to her lips to signal that he should remain silent and wait for her. She turned the corner into the golden light pouring out from the kitchens.
