Page 9 of The Secret of the Dashing Detective
His nostrils flared slightly, and Juliana wondered if she was annoying him. “That’s different,” was all he said. “He is a client.”
“Very well,” she continued. “Are you from London?”
“Yes?”
“Whereabouts were you raised?”
“Holborn.”
“Oh, that is where Mrs. Stone lives!” When he eyed her, she added, “the woman we will be visiting later today.”
“I see.”
She could sense his growing frustration as they neared the house, although she had no idea what she had done to cause such ire.
“Have I offended you in some way?” she asked, stopping at the edge of the stairs leading up to the terrace.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“Finding answers from you is like pulling out the stubborn weeds in Emma’s gardens.”
He smiled slightly at that, and she was glad to see that there was some humor within him.
“There is nothing intriguing about me, Lady Juliana. I am simply a man, hired to do a job. I see no reason why my background would be of any interest to you.”
“Every person is of interest, Mr. Archibald.”
“I disagree.”
She started up the stairs. “I do not much care for having a guard, Mr. Archibald, but I would be amenable to a friend.”
“I would assume you have many friends already,” he countered, following her up.
“Not many of the human variety,” she said, a faint smile on her lips as she enjoyed the back-and-forth banter with him.
Juliana pushed through the garden doors which led into the ballroom, and it took her a few steps to realize that Mr. Archibald was no longer following her. She turned to find that he had stopped just in the entryway, his eyes studying the room. She followed his gaze, trying to see it through a stranger’s view. Greek gods and goddesses flew and danced across the ceiling, while painted ivy wrapped around the tops of the marble pillars. It was quite extravagant, especially since they so rarely used the room, although she was sure that was going to change now that Juliana’s father had passed and they were out of mourning. They had already hosted one successful ball – the very one when Emma and Giles had first determined an interest in one another.
“It is quite a room, isn’t it?” she asked, to which he nodded but said nothing.
He followed her in silence through the ballroom until they came to the doors leading out to the drawing room beyond.
Where her mother was waiting.
“Juliana,” she said, a smile crossing her face. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh?” she said, coming to a stop so quickly that she felt Mr. Archibald nearly run into her, although he stopped himself in time.
“Yes,” she said, her satisfied expression worrying Juliana, for it meant that she was up to something. “Lord Hemingway and his mother will be here shortly. You best get dressed. You can hardly greet them in that gown.”
She cast her gaze up and down Juliana’s now-soiled morning dress.
She could only look at her mother with unease as she tried to think of how to get out the day’s engagement. She could hardly tell her where she had planned to go.
“You didn’t tell me they were coming.”
“No, but it is not as though you have anywhere else to be.”
“Actually, I do,” Juliana said as her mind desperately raced for an excuse she could present without providing the truth.
