Page 24 of Gone With the Rogue
The muggy air was still. Gray skies didn’t dampen the enthusiastic hum of chatter or the melodious sounds coming from a violinist, a cellist, and a pianist.
“There you are at last, my dear Lady Kitson,” the countess said as Julia and Brina approached. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it after all. Delighted to hear you are back in Town. September is the perfect time to be in London, though few agree with me on that. And after the heat earlier in the week, who can blame them. Though it was simply dreadful to hear that the duke wasn’t feeling well enough to make the journey.”
“It’s good to be in London,” Julia responded when her hostess finally took a breath. “I’ll mention in my next letter to the duke that you asked about him. He’ll be pleased.”
“Oh, yes, do. It never hurts to have one’s name mentioned to a duke.”
She looked over at Brina. “Delighted to see you, too, Mrs. Feld. You’re looking lovely, as always. Perhaps you’ll play a score for us later in the afternoon. It’s wonderful to have a pianist, but someone who’s hired simply can’t play with the feeling of someone who plays only because it comes from her heart. Don’t you agree, Lady Kitson?”
Julia smiled at Brina. “Yes, few can play as beautifully as Brina.”
Lady Hallbury turned and motioned for a server to come over.
“Mr. Garrett Stockton is back in London, too. I know it’s rather brazen of me having him here, but he adds a touch of mystique to a gathering, don’t you think? Viscount Rumbly has been giving him the evil eye and hasn’t let his daughter anywhere near the man.”
Lady Hallbury gave them each a glass from the server’s tray. “Do enjoy yourselves,” she said and then walked away.
“I always feel as if I’ve been in a windstorm after talking with her,” Brina said.
“I think everyone does,” Julia agreed, thinking more of how she felt when she heard Lady Hallbury mention Mr. Stockton’s name. “Have you seen him yet?”
“Yes. I saw him before the countess mentioned him.”
Julia scanned the group of people over her champagne glass but couldn’t find him. It was impossible to see around some of the big urns filled with flowers, stuffed birds, and motionless butterflies. “What’s he wearing?”
“A deep green coat with a fawn-colored waistcoat. He’s talking with Miss Lavinia Etchingham and Miss Myrtle Jackson. She is standing very close to him but she won’t be for long. Her mother keeps scowling at her. Myrtle is oblivious to her mother’s warnings to get away from the man.”
Julia could understand Miss Jackson’s feelings. Mr. Stockton had made her feel as if she were an eager young miss wanting to feel her very first touch from a man. She didn’t want to admit it to Brina, but she was feeling more than a little apprehension and sheer anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. Julia hadn’t come to London looking to find a man to fill avoid in her life, but something had happened between the two of them their first meeting. She sensed he felt it, too.
He was different from all the gentlemen who’d let her know they’d be interested in courting her or having a secret encounter with her. But more importantly, she had felt differently about him almost from the first moment she saw him. Mr. Stockton was the first man who had her contemplating the possibility of going against the duke’s stated rules of what she should and should not do.
Julia liked how he’d made her feel so womanly again. How it made her feel to think about being alone with him. It intrigued her that he had the courage to give up the settled, envied life of a gentleman to become a voyager.
It was madness to consider it, but it didn’t stop Julia from wondering what he would say if she told him she’d like to be with him. Alone. In an intimate way. But how would she even say it to him if she mustered the courage? Maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe he would just know—by the way she looked at him that she wanted to be with him.
Thinking about it was all she could do. She believed the duke when he told her he would take Chatwyn and raise him if she wanted to be with a man. And she knew he could. The laws gave him complete power over her and her son. She would only have Chatwyn with her until he went to Eton. That was still four or five years away, and she couldn’t give up her time with him until then.
“Wait,” Brina said with a satisfied smile. “You don’t have to worry about Miss Jackson anymore. Her mother just walked over, took her by the arm and isleading her toward the arches. I assume they are heading home already.”
“Is he watching her leave?”
“No. Clearly he has no interest in her or he would. But Miss Etchingham will not have him all to herself. Miss Chesterfield just joined her and Mr. Stockton.”
Julia blew out a soft laugh. “I’m not surprised all the lovely misses are lining up to spend a few minutes with him. I’m sure I would be, too, if I thought I had a chance to—”
Julia’s voice trailed off. She’d caught sight of the sea adventurer from across the garden, and he saw her. It was as if a beam of sunshine had broken through the gray clouds. Everything in her vision seemed to sparkle. She felt as if he were pulling her toward him.
She didn’t know how or why but was certain in her heart that every time they saw each other more than their eyes had connected. An eagerness to indulge in what she was feeling for him seemed to dig its way into her soul. She felt he had the same experience. There was something about him that triggered emotions inside her that were far too raw and intense to consider—especially at a garden party where he was surrounded by young belles who were innocent, younger, more beautiful and didn’t have Julia’s troubles.
“Of course you have a chance with him,” Brina said, bursting into Julia’s thoughts. “Why would you even think such a thing? It’s all right for you to be cautious. You should be. It’s wise. You have to think of Chatwyn, but you can’t neglect yourself.”
“I know you are right.” Julia turned away from Mr. Stockton. She didn’t want to watch him chatting and smiling with the two adoring young ladies. “Whichis why I’m going to enjoy this glass of champagne and say hello to everyone who’s here.”
“Right,” Brina agreed. “Let’s start with Viscount Rumbly. Lady Hallbury said he’d been giving Mr. Stockton the evil eye since he arrived. Maybe he’ll tell us something about Mr. Stockton we don’t know.”
“If he does, it will only be gossip.”
Brina smiled. “I know.”
