He wasn’t the only man who noticed her either. As they moved through the foyer and up the stairs to the ballroom, Neil noted men’s heads turning. If Lady Juliana noticed, she gave no indication. In fact, her eyes were slightly unfocused as though she were deep in thought.
“Is your father here already?” he asked her.
“Pardon? Oh, Papa? Yes, I am certain he came early and then sent the carriage for me. He would have wanted to discuss politics with Sterling.” They paused to allow the couple in front of them to be announced. “I hope the boys are in bed asleep,” she said.
So that was what occupied her mind. “I’m certain they are. I kept them busy today, and I imagine they are more fatigued than usual.”
“And your friend is completely trustworthy?”
“As I said, I’d trust him with my life.”
They moved forward, and Neil handed both of their cards to the butler. “Lady Juliana St. Maur and Mr. Neil Wraxall.”
Neil felt his cheeks heat. He hated having all eyes on him like this, especially the eyes of the ton, men and women who thought they were above him simply because of an accident of birth. He never felt more like a bastard than at moments like these. Lady Juliana, on the other hand, glided into the room as though she had been born to do this. And, of course, she had. But what surprised Neil was the ease with which she transitioned from the orphanage to the ballroom. Was there anywhere she felt out of place?
A few minutes later, he had the answer. St. Maur intercepted them as they made a circuit of the ballroom. “Step outside with me, darling,” he said, taking his daughter’s arm. “You too, Wraxall.”
Neil followed the man. He was only an inch or two taller than his daughter but walked with a regal bearing. At one time he’d had bright-red hair, but most of it had faded to white. His green eyes were still sharp and alert, and as soon as they were outside, he turned them on his daughter. “What is this nonsense I hear about not coming home?” Before Juliana could answer, he pointed to Neil. “And you, your father said you would have her home within the hour. It has been much longer than an hour, sir.”
“Yes, my lord.” Neil stood straight. St. Maur was right to chastise him. He had failed in the mission.
“Papa, I’m hardly a child to be called home on your whim. The orphans need me.”
“Well, they shall have to get on without you. I let you play at this game because I know how devastated you were at your sister’s death.” His voice softened, and Neil caught a glimpse of the man who had indulged his daughter. “But the time for all that is over.”
Lady Juliana raised her chin. “We had an agreement, Papa. I attend events during the Season and you leave me alone to do my work at Sunnybrooke.”
“I want to change our agreement. It’s past time you married. If something were to happen to me, you would be all alone in the world.”
“I’d rather be all alone than stuck with a husband.” She said the last word as though it were a curse. “As I told you before, I will never marry.”
“Yes, you will. Not all men are like Lainesborough.”
Her gaze bored into her father. “No. Some are like you.”
“Excuse me, but I see a friend of mine—” Neil began, thinking now would be a very good time to escape this family feud.
“Mr. Wraxall, won’t you dance with me?” Lady Juliana said suddenly, turning to face him.
“I don’t—”
But she took his arm and steered him to the end of a line of dancers.
“I will see you at the Darlington musicale!” her father called after them.
On the dance floor, Neil panicked. He would rather face a line of French infantry than this line of dancers. He knew the steps well enough to avoid making a complete fool of himself, but that did not mean everyone would not discuss him. He had heard it all over the years.
Just like his tart of a mother.
He conducts himself well…for a bastard.
Has his father no shame? Flaunting his by-blows in public!
Neil avoided the ton and their social events religiously. Even after he’d returned from the war a hero and everyone wanted to throw fetes in his honor, he declined. As far as Neil was concerned, Rafe could represent them all.
But here he was, in full view of his critics, about to dance with one of the most beautiful ladies in the peerage. The two lines of dancers came together, and Lady Juliana pressed her hand to his and circled. “Why are you scowling?” she murmured. “You are supposed to be having fun.”
“Why are you scowling?” he shot back. “Aren’t you having fun?”
“No. I’d rather be back at Sunnybrooke, but I can’t leave until I’ve danced at least two sets. That is my father’s rule, although it seems the rules are changing. Where would you rather be?”
They parted, and Neil danced with a blushing blond girl, then he was beside Juliana again. “A pit of vipers? A French dungeon?”
“You hate it that much?”
“I’m a bastard. We are not supposed to show our faces in polite society.”
They parted again, and Lady Juliana stared at him intently across the path for the dancers. Then it was their turn to promenade. “I suppose you expect me to apologize.”
“You are not that predictable, Lady Juliana.”
“Good. Because I will not apologize. You are every inch the man any legitimate son is, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I am glad I asked you to dance.”
“That makes one of us.”
“We can show everyone what a gentleman you are.”
“I think all we will do is give everyone a new topic for gossip. The set is ending, my lady.” He bowed and kissed her gloved hand.
“We must take a turn about the room.”
“Forgive me if I do not take part in that spectacle.”
“I will not.” She linked her arm with his, and he was forced either to make a scene or promenade her about the ballroom. As much as he hated the attention he garnered and the false smiles and too-slight bows of the nobility, he could not pretend he did not like having her beside him. She smelled of fresh roses, and when the crowds swelled, she was pushed against him, giving him the impression of lush curves and round softness.
“My lady.” A young man stepped before them. To Neil he looked barely out of the schoolroom. “May I have the next dance?”
“No,” Neil said at the same time Juliana said, “Yes.” She glared at Neil, then looked back at the boy. “Lord Peter, have you met Mr. Wraxall?”
Peter bowed. “An honor, Mr. Wraxall. I studied your accomplishments on the Continent at university. You are a true hero.”
“Thank you,” Neil said, feeling like an old man.
“He is a hero,” Lady Juliana said. “In so many ways.” Her dark eyes met his, then she looked back at the boy lord. “Shall we, my lord?”
Lord Peter bowed again and took Lady Juliana’s arm, leading her back to the dancing. Neil wished he were on the battlefield. He would have shown Lord Peter a thing or two.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Neil turned to see Rafe sipping a glass of champagne. He raised it to Neil. “To what do we owe this honor?”
“To the fact that my latest mission is proving more difficult than I expected.”
“Ah, yes. The Lady Juliana. Since our conversation in the Billiards Room, I have done a bit of investigating.”
“Why?” Neil drawled, watching Juliana laugh and twirl with Lord Peter. Where had Rafe acquired that champagne? Neil needed a bucket.
“Because I am curious by nature. Aren’t you the least curious as to what Society says of Lady Juliana?”
“No.” It was a lie, but he knew Rafe would tell him anyway.
“She is stubborn and willful, but those qualities can be forgiven because she is so generous and kindhearted. Some say too kindhearted. It is difficult for her to see the bad in anyone. That is a boon for you, is it not?”
Neil cut Rafe a look. “Isn’t there some chit looking to toss her skirts up for you?”
“Definitely, but this is vastly more entertaining. I have never seen you jealous.”
Neil stiffened. “I am not jealous.”