Page 43 of The Rake and Lady Julia
"Were you caught by a gust of wind?" she queried, as she raised a hand to tuck a stray hair or two back in place.
"Er," Violet flushed deep red, and Charlotte gave a giggle, which she hastily disguised as a cough, as her husband cast her a curious glance.
"Undone hair is one of the hidden dangers of marriage," Charlotte whispered in Julia's ear, before they all took their seats at the table.
Vauxhall was famous for many things, but the food was not one of them. The wine was bitter, the meat so thin that when Orsino held it up by the fork before a candle, the light shone easily through—but none of this mattered, for Julia had never had such tremendous fun in her life.
With Charlotte and Violet acting as her "chaperones", Julia was free to behave as she pleased. Without her parents hovering over her shoulder, watching her every move, Julia was relaxed and carefree, and thoroughly happy, excepting when a certain marquess popped into her mind.
Which only occurred during the first, second, and third course, as well as dessert, and the cheese and wine plate.
What would it be like, Julia mused, to have Montague seated beside her? They would then be a trio of couples, rather than a quartet with Julia acting as the spare wheel.
Still, her friends did not make it so, and Charlotte and Violet were at pains to make certain that Julia enjoyed herself. Once they had finished eating, they traipsed outside to watch the orchestra play—On Richmond Hill, a popular new ballad—and dance and be merry.
"The fireworks should begin soon," Charlotte called over the din of the crowd.
"Oh, let us find a good spot to watch them!" Violet cried, and the two plunged into the masses.
Julia was just a second behind them, but her way was suddenly blocked by a rather large mass.
"Your Grace?" Julia queried of Orsino.
"Forgive me if I am overstepping the line," Orsino rumbled in response, as he looked down at Julia from his lofty height, "But we have a friend who wishes to speak with you."
We?
Julia turned and found Penrith behind her, as stiff and formal as ever.
"All is above board, my lady," he assured her, "Our friend merely wishes to speak with you. Orsino and I shall separate the wives, telling each one that you are with the other. No one shall know, and I assure you that our mutual acquaintance has promised us his best behaviour."
"Should he at all step out of line," Orsino added, with a slightly wistful look in his eye, "You just let me know. I owe him repayment for smashing my new curricle to smithereens during one of his races."
The confusion which had washed over Julia dissipated, as she realised what the two Upstarts were about. They had set up an assignation with Montague! A stroll with a rake along the moonlit walks of Vauxhall Gardens.
Well, really, the practical side of her bristled indignantly, who did they think they were?
"Where is he?" Julia asked in a rush, desperate to outrun her practical nature.
Orsino nodded toward The Grand Walk, and Julia spotted him at once, lounging by a Doric pillar.
"One hour," Penrith cautioned, with the look of a man who was half-inclined to halt the whole thing before it began.
"My word," Julia replied, but her voice was lost on the wind, for she was already rushing toward Lord Montague.
As she neared him, Montague stood to attention. He was filling out both jacket and breeches very nicely, Julia thought with a grin as she approached, though his silk waistcoat of tangerine was rather offending on the eye.
"You came," Montague said, as she reached him, a smile playing around his generous mouth, "Why?"
Love knows no reason. The words were on Julia's lips, but she was not spontaneous enough, or brave enough to utter them.
"His Graces said you wished a word," she offered in reply, opening her eyes wide in hope that he might see the apology in them for her cowardice.
"Not a word, no," Montague frowned, "I have someone I wish you to meet, and something I wish to show you."
Heavens, he was speaking in riddles, Julia thought, but when he held out his hand, she took it.
Montague led her quickly down The Grand Walk, darting off halfway down to a side path, which in turn led to the rear of the The Temple of Comus. Here, the gardens gave way to grass, and servants scuttled to and fro from the kitchens, with food and wine for the those in the supper-boxes beyond.
