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And now Juliet had returned home.
“My brother Simon was at Crevitch for a time after he was wounded, recovering under my mother’s care. There is a cottage hospital in the village and Juliet volunteers there. He mentioned seeing her, but I thought nothing of it until now. I’m not sure I even remembered who she was,” he added blithely.
“Liar,” Monkstead spoke softly.
Ash looked to him, and then gave another rough, surprised sort of laugh. “Yes, you’re right, I did remember who she was. It was just that I didn’t wish to. We . . . well, the matter between us ended awkwardly. Her father found out, and then told my uncle, and at nineteen I was handed over to the army. It was 1808 and Napoleon had invaded Spain, so we were sent to fight him. There was plenty of scope for promotion and it was thought I could make a fine career.”
“You have a reputation as a hero!”
Ash shrugged. “Despite that, the army and I weren’t suited.”
Monkstead wasn’t to be distracted. “Did Juliet marry?”
“Yes. I believe so.”
“Happily?”
Ash hesitated and then said it anyway. “He was a great deal older than she. He’s dead now.”
“Let me understand,” Monkstead said, considering the matter, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Eight years ago, you and Juliet fell in love, but there was resistance from your two families. You were put into the army and she was married off to an older man. Is that not a reason for you to seek her out, Ash? You had the best of the bargain after all, in that you could leave the army when you discovered it didn’t suit, and she had no choice but to remain married to her old husband. You should listen to her point of view, at the very least.”
Ash began to interrupt but the earl held up a hand.
“Yes, I understand, with so many years gone by, she may feel resentful and you awkward. And yet I think there is a reason you have remained a bachelor and now seek to enter into a loveless union with my niece. I wonder if it is because you have never recovered from loving Juliet.”
Ash drained his brandy. He was uncomfortable. He told himself that really it was too bad of the earl to bring up his past just when he had set his face toward his future.
“I want to make a request of you,” the earl would not be silent. “Go home to Crevitch and visit Juliet. I believe you need to make peace with that part of your life first, before you think about opening a new chapter with Christina. You may find Juliet still loves you, and if so then I wish you well. Alternatively, if you find there is nothing left of her feelings, or yours, then I promise to see you again when you return to Mockingbird Square, and to give serious consideration to your request to marry my niece. What do you say?”
He wanted to refuse. He told himself it was ludicrous, and that one did not go backwards. At the same time he was aware of a dizzy sensation, as if he was falling, and it was not at all pleasant. And yet once more those intent dark eyes drew words from him that he hadn’t meant to say, and Ash found himself reluctantly agreeing.
“Think of this as a challenge I have set you, like a knight of old,” said Monkstead, as the meeting came to an end. “Like Lord Radulf and his Lady Lily. Surely, as their descendant, you must feel the urge to seek out a romance that soars like theirs?”
“Madness,” Ash murmured now, as he reached the door of his town house. “Sheer and utter bloody madness.”
He would do it, he’d have to since he’d agreed! He told himself it would be unpleasant, and embarrassing, and afterwards he would breathe a sigh of relief and head back to Mockingbird Square. Put it behind him and assure Monkstead there was no longer a spark of anything between himself and Juliet Montgomery.
But that didn’t explain the way he was feeling right now.
He tried to remember the last time he had been so sick and shaken, and realised it was when he was a soldier in Spain. He’d been at the head of his troop, preparing to ride through a treacherous enemy valley, knowing there were snipers above and perhaps an ambush below, and that he could die. Only he hadn’t died, although he’d been seriously wounded. Afterwards, they had called him a hero.
He didn’t feel like a hero now. He knew he had to see Juliet, but he was feeling as if he was about to take another gallop through enemy held territory. And like last time, he may not escape unscathed from the encounter.
Chapter Two
Summer, 1816, Montgomery House, Crevitch, Somerset
Juliet tucked a truant strand of dark hair behind her ear and reread the letters before her. Until this moment she had not had a chance to sit down and look at them closely. There had been an outbreak of illness in the village, and she had been asked to help at the cottage hospital. She was a healthy, competent woman, with no dependents, and Doctor Knowles considered her a far more suitable prospect than some of his other volunteers.
This morning, with all the patients sleeping peacefully, and Juliet dead on her feet, she had been sent home to rest. And to face her maid’s disapproval. Yvette had never served a lady who performed such menial tasks and she didn’t know what to make of it.
“We must burn your clothing, madam,” were her first words upon Juliet’s entry into the house.
“No, we must not, Yvette.”
“Yes, madam. It is the only way!”
“Nonsense. Fill my bath. I will wash myself, but leave my clothing be.”
