A Gentleman for Lady Juniper (Clairvoir Castle #6)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

FEbrUARY 4, 1822

L ady Juniper Amberton woke to a maid politely standing at her bedside with a lamp in hand, whispering, “My lady? Lady Juniper? It is time to dress for dinner.”

Perhaps taking a nap immediately after arriving at her brother-in-law’s townhouse hadn’t been a perfect plan. Though she had executed it without the slightest guilt, Juniper woke completely disoriented.

Blinking groggily, Juniper sat up and her novel tumbled from her bedding to the floor. The maid picked it up and handed it back to her, not even glancing at the novel’s spine for the title.

“Oh, thank you. How—how much time do I have until dinner?”

“Half an hour, my lady.” The maid bustled away and turned up a gas lamp, then went about lighting a few candles, too. February in London was a gloomy, dark month.

Juniper slid out of the sheets, peering after the young woman in the lessening darkness. “I’m sorry—what was your name?

“Hettie, my lady. I will be attending to both Lady Betony and you during your stay. My mother is the cook here, and my brother, Henry, is one of the footmen.”

Juniper nodded blearily and made her way to the dressing table. “Hettie. Hettie.”

When she’d finally walked through the doors to her brother-in-law’s London townhouse, she’d felt like falling to her knees in gratitude. They’d traveled several days from Ireland’s coast to London’s bustling streets: coach to ferry, then a coach again, and stops along the way to London, with five other people in the same vehicle as herself.

No one had been demanding or annoying, but the complete lack of privacy for a week of travel had made her itch, body and soul. Although her brother-in-law Teague Frost, Lord Dunmore, had ensured they stopped at the most comfortable inns and houses of friends, she’d shared a room with at least her younger sister every evening.

Thoughts of her sister prompted Juniper to ask, “Is my sister ready?”

“Indeed, my lady. The baroness instructed me to allow you to sleep as long as possible.” Hettie looked over Juniper and gave a slow nod. “Your hair is dark, which means it will be forgiving, but it’s also slightly mussed from your sleep. We will smooth out the rough bits. The baroness also wished me to inform you that tonight is informal, so you ought to dress comfortably. Your trunks arrived yesterday, so I have already prepared a few gowns for you.”

“Whichever you think best will be fine,” Juniper said as she yawned. “Goodness. One would think I hadn’t slept at all—but it’s been hours.”

“Indeed, my lady. Travel will do that to a person.” Hettie bustled about the room, retrieving things from the wardrobe and helping Juniper with a gentle efficiency the lady immediately liked. As promised, the maid smoothed out the rough places in Juniper’s coiffeur after settling a simple blue evening gown upon her frame.

“I haven’t the slightest idea where I am supposed to go.” Juniper met the maid’s eyes in the looking glass.

“Lady Betony is waiting, and I believe she has already had a tour of the house.”

Nodding, she completely submitted herself to the maid’s ministrations. Hettie had her ready for dinner in quick order and promised to be waiting when Juniper returned for the evening. As always, Juniper plucked a novel from her stack of favorite stories to carry with her. Her brother’s wife, Fanny, had disapproved of such things, but Teague and Ivy never minded in the least.

Betony was indeed waiting, right outside of Juniper’s door, and wore her large smile and sparkling eyes beautifully. Fiona, the eleven-year-old sister of the baron, stood with her dressed for bed, it appeared, with a robe over her nightgown.

Betony, the youngest of the three Amberton sisters, was speaking with animation to the girl. “Your tour was wonderful, Fi, but I absolutely insist on you giving me all the best secrets of the house later. You will know all the best corners and hidden places, I think, and the sneakiest routes to the pantry and garden.”

Fiona, a sprightly girl with a particularly impish view of the world, tossed her head of dark curls. “You needn’t be sneaky in the slightest. Our cook here adores giving out sweets. I will introduce you first thing tomorrow, and once she knows your favorite treats she will make certain to have them on hand.” The girl beamed up at Juniper. “You missed my first tour during your nap. Was your rest nice, at least?”

“It was lovely, yes. And it sounds as though I must be part of tomorrow’s expedition, if you will have me.”

“Of course,” Fiona said with wide eyes. “You both are practically my sisters now. I will show you everything.” She wrinkled her nose. “I have to go to bed now. I really don’t think it’s fair. Our first dinner back ought to be a family dinner. Not a grown-ups-only dinner.”

“Teague wanted Ivy to practice right away,” Betony said with a good-natured shrug. “You know how the two of them are about each other.”

The three of them exchanged grins.

The happy couple had been married since September and their small acts of affection had become a normal sight. It seemed every time the two stood near one another, Teague found one reason or another to show his wife his adoration. Anyone watching could easily see his love for her, whether it was when he wrapped his arm around her waist or brushed a kiss to her temple.

Juniper cleared her throat, a smile on her lips. “I am certain we will have an informal family dinner soon and you will join us then—if only to give you the practice you need, Fi.”

“I know.” Fiona rolled her eyes, then gave a curtsy. “Good night then, sisters. Enjoy your evening.”

As Fiona left, Betony turned her full attention to Juniper. “Is this not a lovely house? Though I suppose you have only seen your room. And what did you think of Hettie? She is so quiet, I felt almost like a ghost waited upon me.”

“I rather like her.” Juniper reached out to straighten the clasp of Betony’s necklace. “She has a calming way about her.”

“You two will get along then.” Betony glanced at the book in Juniper’s hand. “And which companion do you have with you this evening? That is a rather familiar purple cover.”

Juniper held the spine of the book toward her sister. The Bandit of Bleakhollow was a favorite of hers. She owned every book written by the author, who had revealed his true name but a few years ago. Erasmus Grey was more popular now than he’d been even five years before, one of the few gentlemen authors in the genre that Juniper liked .

Betony shivered. “Why you insist on reading stories with bandits and ghosts, I will never know. There must be pleasanter books.”

“I like the anticipation of things going horribly wrong,” Juniper said with a grin, “and then turning out all right in the end.”

Her sister rolled her eyes before she took Juniper’s arm and tugged her down the corridor. “You would not like it if such was your lot in life.”

She started chatting away at once, telling Juniper all about the house, her favorite rooms, where she hoped they would spend their time, all about the music room, the garden, the kitchens, and more things that Juniper couldn’t possibly remember until she saw it all for herself. Still, she didn’t regret her nap. She had ages to get to know the house, but her mind had needed to reestablish some semblance of calm.

Joining the others in the drawing room, the sisters realized they were the last to enter, yet no one seemed in any great hurry to go through to the dining room. The dowager baroness sat near the fire, speaking to her son, while their sister Ivy sorted through letters at a small writing desk. She looked up as they entered and grinned at them both.

“It seems I mistook the time for dinner. We are all early.” Ivy appeared completely at ease over a mistake that once would have rattled her to the point of being over apologetic. “You both look livelier than when we all parted.”

“I am completely refreshed,” Betony said as she stepped to the hearth. “Lady Dunmore, Fiona gives the most enthusiastic tours. I felt I was on an adventure this afternoon.”

“She has a delightful imagination, doesn’t she?” Lady Dunmore seemed particularly pleased.

“Oh, heavens.” Ivy’s quiet exclamation drew Juniper’s attention away from their third sister’s conversation. “The duchess’s letter is full of surprises. ”

“Is something wrong?” Juniper leaned closer. “There isn’t anything the matter with Isleen? Or the baby?”

“No, nothing like that. They are still waiting for the babe to enter the world. Everything is fine there,” Ivy hastily reassured Juniper. “There is some wholly unexpected news, and it is surprising. Quite surprising.” Ivy looked up at Juniper with wide eyes. When she spoke again, she raised her voice for everyone to hear. “Her Grace writes to update us on Isleen’s health, gives a list of events she hopes we will attend in her stead, and shares the most interesting turn of events. Do any of you remember that footman, Sterling? He was often assigned to look after the young ladies or the children at the castle. A well-mannered fellow.”

Warmth instantly flushed into Juniper’s cheeks. With all eyes on Ivy, however, she doubted anyone noticed. At least, she hoped not.

“Oh, yes.” Betony perked up brightly. “We painted him. Remember, Juniper?”

She remembered Sterling quite well. She’d kept the watercolor portrait she’d done of him, too, even though it wasn’t her best work. Every time she looked at it, Juniper imagined she could hear his deep voice, sense the aura of protection that he bore, feel the security his mere presence offered.

Thinking of Sterling that way made her honestly wonder if she ought to put aside her Gothic novels for at least a few weeks and read something factual and dry. The man had fulfilled his duty, nothing more. For a lady of her birth to admire or fantasize about him in any way was unbecoming, inappropriate, and highly dishonorable. An earl’s daughter had no business daydreaming about a footman, even if he was part of the Duke of Montfort’s respected private militia.

Ivy tapped the letter on her writing desk. “The duchess says his family has inherited a title. His father is an earl now, and Sterling—Mr. John Sterling, I should say—is here in London with them.”

Juniper’s knees weakened, leaning her hip against the writing desk for at least some small measure of stability. Her mouth went dry and her heart hammered loudly in her ears.

What ? That couldn’t possibly be true. She’d slipped into a daydream. Her novels had finally overcome her soundness of mind.

She put The Bandit of Bleakhollow down .

“An interesting shift in fortune. I had a letter from the duke about it, I meant to tell all of you,” Teague said from across the room, sounding amused rather than shocked. “It is quite the change to go from servant to gentleman, soldier to noble.”

That was all he had to say on the matter? Juniper had questions. Dozens of them. She looked down at Ivy and her eyes darted to the letter, but despite the duchess’s neatness of hand, reading upside down was impossible with her thoughts swimming like deranged tadpoles.

“Quite.” Ivy lifted the letter closer and read aloud, “‘It is the wish of His Grace that our family and our closest friends make an effort to welcome Lord Benwaith—that’s Sterling’s father—and his family into their new position in Society.’ How interesting. Do you think it is for the guard’s sake that Their Graces wish for such a thing?”

“He has risked his life for their safety on several occasions,” Teague said, perhaps privy to more information than the rest of them due to his sister’s role as wife to the duke’s heir. “I liked him well enough. The duke’s letter mentioned the same desire. I see no trouble with following through on Her Grace’s suggestion—I will call on his father tomorrow, in fact. It will take but a moment to learn the address from one of the clubs.”

Ivy waved the letter in the air. “Oh, the duchess included it in the letter. When you pay your call, you must invite the whole family to dinner, as soon as possible. ”

Juniper found enough fortitude to speak, at last. “H-How kind of you, Ivy. That will be a lovely way to get to know them.”

The son of an earl. Sterling was now the son of an earl . And she, the daughter and sister of one. They were now equals in rank, if nothing else. The tall, handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed soldier who’d existed like a shadow on the edge of her awareness for an entire summer would enter her home as her social peer. And she could speak to him without worry of saying something that would cross an invisible line between their classes. He’d not need to confine his responses to those of a respectful and distant servant, either.

An actual conversation might occur.

She had to bite the insides of her cheek to keep from grinning at this change in his fortune—and hers.

“I wonder if they feel like they are living a fairy tale,” Betony remarked from where she sat, eyes glowing.

Teague’s mother shook her head and spoke in her thickly accented English. “Let us hope not, dearheart. For as much as we may enjoy the happy parts of such tales, there is always much darkness to pass through or villains to thwart before one finds their happy ending.”

“New blood in an old title is always looked on with suspicion.” Teague tapped his fingers along the mantel. “And it brings out the predators of the ton . There will be many who will seek to benefit from a stranger’s good fortune. I hope Sterling’s father is as level-headed and stoic as his son.”

For the sake of the former guardsman, Juniper hoped so, too. She’d been at the mercy of the nobility at home and in public. Her brother’s wife, Fanny, had come into their lives as a physical manifestation of snobbery and prejudice. If Fanny disapproved of a book, an event, a person, those things were kept far from the Amberton sisters—or ripped away from them. If Fanny saw opportunity for herself or the family’s reputation in obtaining an introduction or a fashionable item, she pursued it relentlessly. And as a countess, she had power and influence among a large circle of other women. Her likes and dislikes trickled through her network and came back to her, intensified and pricklier than before.

With people like Fanny in the upper classes, in the peerage, Sterling’s family navigated nothing short of a medieval gauntlet of harsh words, cutting opinions, and precarious reputations. The pitfalls of Society would be twice as dangerous for them as it was for someone like Juniper.

Her initial shock and excitement at the news of Sterling’s elevation transformed to worry. He and his family would need all the help they could find.

Perhaps even Juniper’s.