Page 8 of Juliet's Touch

Juliet made it to her chamber without anyone noticing her. At one point, she ducked around a corner, successfully evading their footman. Without a doubt, the refreshing stroll and her odd encounter with an alluring mystery man were worth almost being caught. She quickly changed into her nightdress and then tugged on her bellpull.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she struck an innocent pose, which included hands angelically clasped on her lap and an innocent I’ve-been-sitting-in-this-spot-woolgathering-forever stare into the corner.

A few minutes later, Betty entered the chamber and performed her courtesy bob. “Good morning, Miss Juliet.”

“Good morning, Betty. Are Mother and Father in the morning parlor yet?”

“They are, Miss.”

Her adventure seemed to have whetted her appetite because her mouth watered as she pictured coffee, jam, and fresh bread. “I shall wear my green dress with ivory trim this morning.”

“As you wish, Miss.” Betty promptly strolled to the wardrobe.

Not only did Juliet need to choose her day dress, but she also needed to decide on her evening wear, so she followed Betty,peering over her shoulder as her maid shuffled through the colorful frocks. Blues, greens, purples, pinks, reds, and florals. Silks, satins, taffetas, velvets, and muslin. Every single garment was adorned with delicate trims, embroidery, or lace.

“I want to wear something spectacular to the theatre tonight,” Juliet said.

“Miss, you would look lovely in a burlap sack.”

Juliet scoffed. “I most certainly would not. But thank you for saying so.” She ran her fingertips over her decadent gowns, lingering on the red silk. Tiny crystals adorned the bodice. “I shall wear this.”

“Excellent choice, Miss. I will be sure to have it ready. Now, let us get you into the green.”

Almost twenty minutes later, Juliet was suitably dressed, and her hair was pinned into place. Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, she turned her head from side to side, studying her reflection. Her cheeks were still flushed from her chilly excursion. Mother would faint dead away, assuming she had worn rouge to the morning meal. She could always apply powder, but that also might cause the woman to suffer an apoplexy. If only her sisters were here, so she didn’t have to deal with Mother’s drama on her own.

“Is something troubling you, Miss?” Betty asked.

“I suppose I miss Emily and Maria.”

“Me too. And soon you will marry and go away, leaving me alone until Miss Maria returns.” Betty sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes.

Juliet’s stomach soured. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave Briar House. She didn’t want to marry Charles. His hands were so tiny and entirely too soft, and he smelled like… She couldn't recall his scent, but it was not mouthwatering oranges. Maybe she could live with Emily. Betty could go with her. Then they could send for Maria. Now that Emily’s evil stepmother waslocked away at The West End Hospital and Asylum for Wayward Women, surely, they could live at Chesterhill Manor. While there, they could watch the sunrise together, have picnics, and take long walks. Maybe they would even encounter handsome pirates and masked guardian angels.

Juliet blinked, then shook herself. What in the blazes was wrong with her? Of course, she wanted to marry Charles. She must be having a panic attack. According to Mother, brides often suffered from the jitters.

She stood and smoothed her skirt. “Betty, I shall require your assistance around seven of the clock to dress for the theatre.”

Betty withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “Of course, Miss. Please forgive me for being so sentimental.” Her gaze bypassed Juliet and settled on a heap of blue fabric on the floor.

Blast! Juliet had forgotten to hang up her dress.

“I don’t remember you wearing this.” Betty picked up the garment and held it out in front of her. “My heavens, what happened to it?”

Mud covered the hem, and the skirt was torn. Juliet winced.Stupid loose cobblestones.

“I’ll have this fixed in no time,” Betty said as she inspected the damage. “You go on to the morning parlor.”

Luckily, Betty was a master seamstress. She was also so sweet that she was more concerned about fixing the dress than probing into how it had been damaged. For some inexplicable reason, Juliet was overcome by emotion. She pressed a kiss to Betty’s cheek.

“Oh, my, Miss.” Betty’s face pinkened, and her smile was so broad that it consumed her face.

Since it wouldn’t do to carry all of these strange emotions to breakfast, Juliet tucked her thoughts and feelings away. Shewould unpack and examine them after coffee. Plastering on a smile, she left Betty to attend to her wardrobe.

Juliet breezily strolled into the morning parlor, still wearing her smile. “Good morning,” she said in her sunshiny voice.

Mother tsked. “’Tis about time you joined us. When we are in London, we meet for our morning meal. You should know this by now.”

Juliet ignored the reprimand and pecked her on the cheek. She glided to her father and kissed the top of his head. “Good morning, Papa.”