Page 53 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
Edward’s eyes followed his father’s panicked stare to see his mother, Amelia, in the game of charades. Those playing had fallen into natural partnerships to compete, and to Edward’s amazement, Amelia had partnered up with Lady Clarence.
Amelia was signing things to Lady Clarence, who apologized profusely as she struggled to guess the answers. The two ended up laughing a little together, much to the great amusement of those around them.
“This is absurd,” Philip muttered. “I declare, there’s something in the water here. Everyone being merry together.”
“Oh yes, such an awful thing, is it not?” Edward said with thick sarcasm. “I mean, people being happy? How dare they!”
Philip offered a dark look, but he said nothing.
“Father …” Edward decided it was time to push this matter a little further. He had observed from a distance how Lady Violet was seeking at least to reconcile their mothers together, something which she might now be making progress with, but as for their fathers, no progress was being made at all. It was time Edward said something. “Do you not think it’s time we let bygones be bygones?”
Philip glared forward at the room. It took Edward a few minutes to realize just where his father was looking. He was glaring at Lord Clarence, who had taken refuge with a few other gentlemen in the corner of the room. They looked over the race cards for the next day excitedly, making bets and writing notes on the cards. Lord Clarence appeared quite happy, even content with his lot in life.
“I am not sure I can,” Philip said slowly with a huff and stood to his feet. He approached Amelia, and Edward just prayed his father was not intending to break up the happy game of charades.
Something ached in Edward’s chest as he looked across the room at Juliet, where she played cards. He longed to be part of the jest as she laughed with others around the table. He wished to be alone with her again, as they had been that day.
Whatever was passing between them was now certainly much more than rebellion or even attraction. It coursed much deeper in Edward than that, like a canyon that had been carved with deep running water. He had to see her, had to find a way to be alone with her, no matter what.
He left the room for a minute, hoping others would think he had gone to the privy and headed to a room nearby to find some paper and ink. He entered a chamber that was quite empty, the curtains half drawn, the writing bureau easy to find tucked into the corner of the room.
Hurrying his movements, Edward sat at the bureau, constantly checking over his shoulder in case he was about to be disturbed. This would be the wrong moment, indeed, to be discovered alone writing a message to Juliet. Gathering a quill and ink together, he wrote a short note to Juliet. He hesitated for a minute, longing to say more, with the tip of the quill hovering in the air.
Briefly, he thought of all those men he’d known in his life who wrote love letters to their woman. He’d never been tempted by such an idea, not once, and had even thought the prospect quite mad.
What was the point in telling a woman in writing how much he cared when he could show her in person? Yet now … he was tempted. He could write within that note how much he missed her and how much he thought of what they had shared together on that blanket, how he thought it was impossible to stay away from her, but he did not write it.
He had to be smart. If there were a chance that someone by accident could find this note, then his professing that depth of what he felt for Juliet would not be wise if he did not wish to upset his parents. He finished the note, keeping it short, then tucked it folded neatly into the palm of his hand and stood.
He left the room quietly, returning to the parlour where people still played their games. He circled the space for a minute, considering how to give the note to Juliet without being seen. It was not easy to give it to her, and in the end, he walked to the card table under the pretext of talking to Jane.
“Have you come to advise me in my game, brother dear?” Jane asked with a hearty chuckle.
“You’ll find I am winning already and far from being in need of your help.” As others around the table laughed, Edward bent down under the pretext of looking at his sister’s cards. As he did so, he placed his hand on the table beside Juliet’s. When he stood straight again, he left the note behind and glanced at Juliet. Scarcely a second later, she surreptitiously took the note, and he turned away, smiling to himself.
If everything went according to plan, the next day, he would finally be able to be alone with Juliet again.
***
“A headache? It’s such a shame you cannot join us.” Cecily walked towards Juliet and where she sat curled up at the head of the bed. “Well, look after yourself, dear.” She kissed Juliet on the head. “I’m afraid we’ll be some time at the races, but I can stay behind if you wish?”
“There’s no need,” Juliet assured her. “It’s merely a headache, and I am sure some peace and quiet will help it to pass.
“Yes, yes of course.” Cecily stood, revealing Robert and Violet in the doorway, the latter of which shifted impatiently, clearly eager to get back to the racecourse at Ascot. “Ask a servant to send word for us if you need it.”
“Very well,” Juliet said with a soft smile. “Now go before Violet bursts into a run so as not to miss the carriage.”
“I’m running anyway.” Violet ran off rather comically, even drawing a laugh from Robert as she went. Cecily kissed Juliet on the forehead one last time, and then followed the others out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
The moment the door was closed, Juliet threw off the covers. She hurried towards the window and peered around the curtain, hiding her nightgown-clad body as she watched the driveway.
Still resting on her dresser was the note that Edward had given her the night before. It read,
Make an excuse tomorrow to stay behind. Let us spend the day together. Meet me in the parkland woods, where the path forks into three, and the statue of Venus watches over us.
Juliet smiled as she thought of meeting Edward again. It was a stolen opportunity of freedom to do as she truly wished to do, away from the prying eyes of her mother and father.
She watched the driveway now, waiting for the moment everyone would disappear to head to the races. Roughly five carriages had been prepared, along with a number of horses. Robert and the Duke of Lantham purposefully chose carriages as far away from each other as they possibly could get.
