Page 97 of The Earl Takes All
Juliahad known that once they arrived there would be no hasty leaving. This was one of the first balls of the Season. Much gossip was to be caught up on, news to be shared, debutantes to speculate over, matches to predict.
She managed to enjoy one dance with Edward before she was snagged by a trio of ladies whose first Season had been rather unremarkable and who were hoping for better with their second.
“I was so sorry to hear of Mr.Edward Alcott’s passing,” Lady Honoria said. “I wanted to attend the funeral but Mama said it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“I shall miss dancing with him,” Lady Angela offered.
“I shall miss his stories,” Lady Sarah murmured on a sigh, as though he’d recounted them just for her. “And his dashing good looks.”
“How can you miss his dashing good looks when you have only to look at his brother to see him again?” Lady Honoria asked.
“I suppose you have a point.”
“I nearly fainted dead away tonight when I first saw Lord Greyling,” Lady Angela admitted on a laugh that grated on Julia’s nerves. “Until I remembered they were twins. I thought he was a ghost for a moment there.”
“It must be so odd to have someone look exactly like you.” Lady Sarah gave Julia a pointed look. “Did you ever confuse them?”
“No,” she lied. “The more one was around them, the easier it was to tell them apart.”
“He was such a scalawag,” Lady Honoria said. She glanced around as though she expected that scalawag to jump out of the crowd at any moment. Then she leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “He gave me my first kiss.”
“No!” Lady Angela exclaimed.
“Yes. In a dark corner of a terrace at a ball.”
Julia did not want to hear this, did not want to hear the details of Edward’s exploits, although to be fair neither had she wanted to hear those of Albert. It wasn’t a bad thing for a man and wife to keep some mystery about them.
“I wish he’d kissed me,” Lady Sarah whined in a high-pitched voice that was rather like silver scraping over silver. It sent an awful skitter up Julia’s spine.
“He might have this Season,” Lady Honoria said. “He would only take you out if he knew you weren’t trying to trap him into marriage.”
“I would have tried to trap him,” Lady Regina confessed.
“Not I,” Lady Honoria told her. “He was jolly good fun and I enjoyed his company, but he wasn’t titled and I don’t think he was the sort to take his vows seriously.”
“He takes his vows very seriously,” Julia blurted before she could consider the ramification of her words. “I mean, he would have had he had the opportunity to marry.”
“I’m not sure,” Lady Honoria insisted.
“I’m absolutely positive,” Julia said, unable to bear the thought of these silly girls thinking the worst of Edward, of not truly comprehending the decent, good person that he was. “He was an honorable man. And as I am—was—his sister-by-marriage, I had the opportunity to know him far better and observe him in many more situations than you did.”
“There was certainly nothing honorable in his kiss. It was frightfully wicked. He promised me another one this Season and now I shan’t have it.” While the other two girls giggled, Lady Honoria produced an exaggerated pout.
Julia had an insane urge to pull that jutting lower lip down to the girl’s knees. “Yes, well, we certainly want to concentrate on how inconvenient his death was for you.”
“I meant no offense.”
Yet she’d taken offense. They were disparaging him, mocking him, and she hated it, hated that they didn’t know him as she did. They saw him as offering little more than kisses in the garden. “My apologies. We’re still mourning his passing.” Not that she thought she had anything for which to apologize. She simply wanted these girls gone from her presence before she said something rash, before she did something to threaten the new life she was striving to build.
“We just wanted to express our sorrow over your loss,” Lady Sarah said, before ushering the others away as though she were a mother hen and they were her chicks.
Thank God. She needed another dance with Edward to help settle her nerves. Or a glass of brandy. She wondered where she might find that. She’d been to the refreshment room earlier and there was only lemonade and sparkling wine to be found there. Still, wine was better than nothing.
“Julia.”
Turning, she smiled at the friendly and familiar face. “Ashebury.”
“Surely after all these years you can call me Ashe.”
