Page 7 of Regency in Color

“Good evening, Lady Eleanor,” Colin responded to Eleanor, although his eyes never left Juliana. “Miss Drake.”

The deepening of his voice and the way his posture relaxed when he said her name, raised the hairs on the nape of Juliana’s neck. It was as if he were remembering the easy, uninhibited relationship they’d once shared. And moreover, enjoying every memory.

Eleanor’s questioning gaze flicked between Juliana and Colin. Their familiarity couldn’t be missed by anyone paying a modicum of attention. How much of their history should she tell her new friend?

“I hope you are well, Your Grace,” Eleanor continued, cutting through the tension surrounding their small circle.

Colin tore his eyes away from Juliana. “I am. Are you?” As soon as the polite platitude fell from his lips, his rapt attention centered on Juliana once again.

While the sting of being ignored had lost its bite for Juliana, it was probably a new, highly unpleasant experience for Eleanor. Juliana wanted to feel bad, but truthfully, she didn’t. It was nice being the object of a man’s desire of once—even if it was Colin’s.

Eleanor’s smile tightened. “Yes, I am very well, Your Grace.”

“And you, Ju . . .” Colin peered at Eleanor. The corners of his lips turned down. “Miss Drake. Are you well this evening?”

Could it be he wished they had a private moment? She must be going mad because, for a moment, she wanted to be alone with him as well.

What would he say to her?

What could he say?

There weren’t enough apologies in all of London to rectify the way he’d treated her.

“I . . .” She couldn’t do this—pretend as if a painful history didn’t exist between them. It did. And so did the tears, broken promises, and shattered dreams. Juliana moved to walk away, but Eleanor’s arm tightened around hers, holding her in place.

She studied the other woman, her brow creased in confusion. Eleanor stared straight ahead at Colin as if purposely avoiding eye contact with her. What was she up to?

“If I may be so bold as to speak on her behalf.” Eleanor beamed, her visage overly sweet. She patted Juliana’s arm a little too forcefully to be friendly. “Miss Drake was informing me of how grateful she was that I rescued her from the stern attention of her aunt. Lady Roxburrow doesn’t understand Juliana’s shyness and how it contributes to her desire to remain on the outskirts of fashion. Some women aren’t as confident in their appearance as others, and that is perfectly acceptable. Plenty of gentlemen love a more homely woman. Wouldn’t you agree, my lord?” She finally looked at Juliana. “Did I speak up enough for you, my dear? I’ve been informed you have a slight problem with your hearing.”

Eleanor’s voice was so loud that not only did Juliana hear her clearly, so did everyone around them. Juliana snatched her arm back, breaking Eleanor’s hold. The betraying remarks bludgeoned the little confidence she’d managed to muster at the start of the evening. So much for her hopes of having a friend with which to brave the perils of the season.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she kept them at bay.

“Though the duplicity of your words is not lost on me, I shall address you as if it was,” Colin growled, low and dangerous. “You are correct. I do think Miss Drake is a stinkingly beautiful woman, and I’m sure plenty of other men do as well. Now, if you will remove yourself from my presence, I would be much obliged.”

Eleanor’s mouth flopped open, then closed. If being ignored was a new concept for her, being put so thoroughly in her place was not something she’d thought within the realm of possibility. She thrust her chin in the air, spun on her heels, and stormed off without another word.

The urge to bolt and never show her face in public rode Juliana so hard she couldn’t enjoy Colin’s expertly executed rebuff. She moved to flee in the opposite direction from Eleanor, but Colin’s warm hand clasped onto her wrist, halting her retreat.

“Are you well?” he asked quietly, making sure to move his lips slowly for her to read them. Not that she needed him to. Juliana had long ago memorized every movement and shape his lips could form.

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t reply to him. He was her enemy. The man who had encouraged her affections, then trampled them beneath the hooves of his horse the day he’d ridden away from her. Se loathed him for having the audacity to show concern for her now. And why she was ashamed of herself for wanting leap into his arms and take the solace she hoped still awaited her in them.

Misunderstanding her silence, Colin released her, then held his hands up in front of his stomach and discreetly made the sign they’d made up a long time ago, to ask how she was feeling.

“Don’t do that,” Juliana hissed. “I heard your question. Release me at once. People are beginning to stare.”

Damn him.

Using their secret language. He had no right!

Colin obeyed her command and dropped his hands to his side. His voice gentled. “Pay no attention to what Lady Eleanor said. And never think you have to emulate her and her ilk. Their friendship is as false as their words are flattering.”

Juliana hugged her middle in a feeble attempt to protect herself from the emotional bruising she didn’t have the strength to take. A new wave of anger flared within her. At Eleanor, at society, at him, and at herself for longing to have his touch soothing her once again.

“You would know a lot about the falseness that can be found in flattering words.”

“Do not let our past keep you from heeding my warning. She is not to be trusted. I heard her gossiping with her friends about you the other night at the theater.”