A Gentleman for Lady Juniper (Clairvoir Castle #6)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

T he last day of February experienced a creeping dawn, yet the winter-gloomed skies did nothing to dampen Juniper’s spirits. She was going to the Tower of London today, with Mr. Sterling. And his sister. And her sister.

“Are you certain you do not need me to accompany you?” Teague asked as he sat in the front room with Juniper and Betony, watching for the Benwaith carriage to arrive. “It seems a tall order, having Sterling shepherd three unmarried ladies around all on his own.”

“We will be perfectly behaved,” Betony said with a toss of her head. “You really needn’t worry so much about us, Teague.”

“I am afraid that is what brothers do,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Fiona is a handful, true, but I worry about all of you. I would gladly forgo my time in Lords today to escort you both. The items on the docket are of little interest to anyone but the people discussing them.”

“You would shirk your duty for us?” Juniper asked, feigning a gasp. “You are indeed a splendid brother. We will be certain to bring you home a gift—but Betony is correct. We will do well enough without you today. ”

“Mm. Well. When they come to the part in the tour where they show off the weapons taken from the Irish, remember that there are two sides to every story, and the Irish side is quite different than what you will hear at the Tower.”

Betony gave him a serious nod. “We will forever be more partial to the Irish side, you have our word.”

He chuckled and looked out the window. “Here they are at last. Do not rush with your bonnets, I must have a word with Sterling before you go.”

“Oh, Teague,” Betony protested. “Must you, really? He has to be the most trustworthy man in the realm, given his former post.”

“Most trusted man in the realm?” Teague’s tone danced with amusement. “Yet here I am, declared the best of brothers. I think it my duty to ensure you are well looked after. Juniper? What think you?”

She shook her head at him, but took his arm so he could escort them both outside. “If you must, you must. Though do remember that he has copious experience of being overly protective of those in his charge, more than most gentlemen.”

Jack—surely, there was no harm in thinking of him thus in her own thoughts—stood outside of the carriage, ready to assist them into the vehicle, and his sister looked out the window at them with a wide smile. Teague stopped before the carriage, and Juniper met Jack’s quizzical look with a little shrug.

Teague adorned his brow with a frown. “Here are two people who mean the world to me, Sterling. Can you assure me they will be safe in your care today?”

“As safe as my own kin, Dunmore,” Jack said with a slight bow.

Juniper immediately frowned. Own kin? Oh. That did not sit well with her. Sadly it seemed to satisfy Teague, who—after a few more friendly remarks—handed both Juniper and Betony into the carriage…depriving Juniper of the chance of even to uching her gloved hands to Jack’s. Which was a rather silly thing to feel disappointed about, and yet here she was, disappointed.

Perhaps she had finally read too many novels with ridiculous heroines.

“Have you been to the Tower of London before?” Emily asked, eyes bright with excitement. “Of course, every child knows the stories of the ghosts, the horrible things that happened there, the histories—but to actually go, I admit I never entertained the idea.”

“Why are children always so interested in the bleak parts of history?” Betony asked, her tone musing. “We told Fiona—our brother-in-law’s youngest sister—that we planned to visit the Tower today, and she begged and pleaded to come too.”

“You make her sound bloodthirsty.” Juniper had to laugh as she thought on Fiona’s wide-eyed begging. “I think she is simply eager to leave the house.”

Emily picked up a small pamphlet from the carriage bench with an illustration of the Tower on its front. “Visiting a medieval castle sounds adventurous. What child wouldn’t wish to go on an adventure?”

Mr. Sterling chuckled. “Miss Fiona Dunmore’s opinions on castles are well known to any who have spent a few moments in her company. She has visited many in Ireland and Scotland, and she will happily tell you how superior both are to those on English soil.”

Juniper looked at him in some surprise. “You remember that about Fiona?” Was there anything this man hadn’t noticed in his days as an employee of the duke?

“Repetition of her opinions within my hearing ensured I would never forget them.” Though he did not smile, there was a pleasantness to his expression that made her relax. “Miss Dunmore was always an entertaining guest at Castle Clairvoir.”

“Oh, do let’s not talk too much about that,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “I cannot think it is a good thing to bring up your time in service so often. Of course Juniper and Betony do not mind, but what if I should slip and say something in company? People will surely look down on us.”

“Emily, people already know—and if they do not, the gossip and rumors will eventually reach them,” Jack said, his tone gentle. “It is less shameful for it to be in my past than it would be for us to humiliate ourselves by misbehaving in the present.”

“Which will not happen,” Betony assured them. She bounced a little in her seat. “We are going to show everyone what lovely people you are. Today, anyone else visiting the Tower will see you both and remark on how mannerly you are, and how sophisticated it is to take an interest in our nation’s great history.”

“Staring at the executioner’s ax which took the life of Anne Boleyn is ‘sophisticated’?” Jack asked, plucking the pamphlet from his sister and opening to the page dedicated to that particular entry in the booklet. He cleared his throat and read aloud, “‘The ax with which Queen Anne Boleyn was beheaded, on the 19th of May, 1536. She was wife to Henry VIII and mother to Queen Elizabeth; and at the age of nine-and-twenty fell sacrifice to the mutable temper and the impetuous violence of a jealous Prince, and to the malicious calumnies of the enemies of the reformed religion.’” He turned the page. “And then, after another several sentences about her ‘protestations of her innocence,’ it says, ‘The Earl of Essex was afterwards beheaded with the same ax.’ Yes. Absolute sophistication.”

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Juniper turned her attention to the strings of her reticule.

Emily gaped at her brother. “Jack, are you—teasing us? You never tease!”

Behind her hand, Betony snickered.

“I am merely saying that our touring a place that puts such things on display hardly seems something which should be universally approved of by the same people who insist on entering a dining room in a specific rigid order. I understand the need for all of it, of course, but there are moments when even I tire of the shallow show.” He handed her the pamphlet again. “My apologies, ladies. I am looking forward to our outing—I simply find certain aspects of it more telling of human nature than actual history.”

“I suppose there is something of that childhood interest in such things in all of us,” Juniper ventured with a little smile. He didn’t truly seem upset, and his pointing out the ridiculousness of it all charmed her. “Fiona loves ghost stories and tales of Irish fairies. I am quite partial to Gothic novels with their mysteries and shadows. All of England knows the stories of the worst moments in our history, and we retell the tales in our warm houses tucked up next to our hearths with arguably far too much gusto—and relish.”

Jack met her gaze with the slightest upturn of his lips. “As I said, human nature.”

“You both strike me as somewhat morbid today,” Betony ventured. “Emily, we must ignore them. Let them be grim if they wish, but I choose to focus on the enjoyment of seeing Queen Elizabeth’s suit of armor. Oh, and we ought to look at the Regalia.”

“Oh, the Crown Jewels?” Emily opened her pamphlet. “I do wish to see everything, especially given how recently it was used for our king’s coronation. I read all about it in the newspapers last year.”

It did not take long to arrive at the Tower of London, the name now given to everything within its sturdy outer walls. The castle itself was at the center, but there was a veritable little village within, consisting of offices, homes, a church, and barracks.

As they left the carriage and approached the tower entrance on foot, Emily looked upward at the structure. “Jack, would the Tower be of any use if London were attacked today?”

“None whatsoever,” he said immediately. “It would not hold out even an hour, is my guess. Our modern cannons would tear through the stone. Its walls could be scaled easily.” He shook his head. “Though I am certain it was formidable on the day it was completed. William the Conqueror knew what he was doing, building towers and fortresses along the coast and in principal cities like London.”

Juniper shuddered when they passed through the portcullis, and it was on the other side that they were greeted by a Yeoman of the Guard, wearing the same uniform they had in the time of Henry VIII.

“I feel suddenly as though we have stepped back in time,” Emily murmured to Juniper. “What funny clothing.”

“Welcome,” the Yeoman said, his bearing soldier-straight-and-stiff. “If you have come to view the Tower, I will happily provide you with a tour of the grounds.”

“It’s an honor to be chosen for this position,” Jack murmured to the ladies, bending down near Juniper’s ear. “One must be a decorated officer to even be considered.”

Soon they were collected, along with a few other ladies and gentlemen who stood near the gated entrance, and shown about the Tower grounds. The Yeoman seemed to take his job quite seriously, and as it had been several years since Juniper’s last visit, she paid intense attention to all he said. He spoke of the history, showed them where it was believed Anne Boleyn and others were executed, spoke of the church, the guards, and Traitor’s Gate.

“There are twelve acres of land that compromise the inside of the tower, and the circuit wall is more than three-thousand feet in length,” he continued. “All who live on site are the officers and servants of the public, and their families.” He marched them along a small rise and pointed out the ravens hopping along the grass. “Who here knows the legend of the Tower Ravens?”

A woman on the arm of her husband delicately raised a gloved hand, and the Yeoman bowed slightly to her as she offered, “Isn’t it said that London Tower, and with it the Crown, will fall if the ravens ever leave the Tower?”

“Indeed. We know that ravens have been bred and kept at the Tower since the time of Charles II. Imagine, if you will, the number of historical events that have occurred here with ravens in attendance.” He cleared his throat. “From the deaths of queens and traitors to the best moments of our nation.”

There were murmurs of interest, then the tour continued on. The woman who had spoken of the legend, walking before Juniper and Emily at the moment, said quietly to her husband, “I do think ravens rather supernatural creatures, as it was one such bird that brought me to you.”

The gentleman chuckled and gave her a look of such fondness that Juniper nearly sighed aloud.

When he spoke, though his voice was soft, she heard every word. “I am f-f-forever grateful to that bird and everything else that f-f-followed, my dear.”

Emily’s head jerked toward the man, her eyebrows raised with sudden interest as she glanced at Juniper, though she could not think why her friend would appear so intrigued.

As they slowed their steps, she leaned closer. “Is something the matter, Emily?”

“Did you hear that man’s speech?” she asked in a whisper. “He reminded me of Mr. Eastwood.” Emily glanced forward again. “He and his wife seem rather fond of each other, do they not?”

Betony stood ahead of them, speaking with another young lady in the group between the Yeoman’s explanations for the things around them. They were nearly to the stairs that led up into the fortress, so the outdoor tour was nearly spent.

Jack came along Juniper’s other side. “The outdoors are as grimly connected to death as what we will find inside, it would seem.”

She gave him a glance from the corner of her eye. “Should I not admit to enjoying myself? As you are so troubled by the gruesome history of the White Tower, perhaps it would diminish your opinion of me if I did so.”

His eyes flicked from her down to the cobblestoned ground. When he spoke his voice was soft, and did not carry far or disturb the others around them. “I do not think anything would accomplish that, Lady Juniper. My high opinion of you is rather fixed.”

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks warmed, despite the cold February air. “And here it was that my sister-in-law, Fanny, was so certain my Gothic fixation would be the end of my respectability.”

The woman in front of them, the same who had credited a raven with meeting her husband, glanced over her shoulder at that moment. Her eyes met Juniper’s, and a quick look of interest showed in her eyes.

“As I am yet new to Society, I’m not certain my opinion matters one way or the other,” Jack said.

It was then she ought to have said that all his opinions mattered, to her at least, but the Yeoman urged them to climb the stairs in front of them, offering his services as guide inside the Tower, too, if they were desired—but their group was given leave, when they entered the fortress, to wander about in the public areas as they wished. There were signs here and there which gave more information about each display.

Betony and Emily had linked arms and gone forward at once, looking over suits of armor that shone as though they had been polished that very morning .

The lady with her husband turned to Juniper, though, before she and Jack could join the other two. “I beg your pardon, but did you say you enjoy reading Gothic novels?”

Her husband winced. “Louisa,” he said softly. “You c-c-cannot do this to every reader we meet.” He turned an apologetic smile to Juniper and Jack.

His wife did not seem to give him any heed, aside from her smile growing wider. Instead she waited with an expectant gaze on Juniper.

Juniper stepped a little closer to Jack, her cheeks burning, and he looked down at her with raised eyebrows. She prepared herself for censure as she answered, “I did say that, yes. I am an avid reader of the genre.”

“Oh, as am I,” the woman said, face shining with delight. Before Juniper could find relief in this revelation, the woman asked, “Have you read the new book by Mr. E. Grey?”

“Indeed, I have. It so delighted me, I immediately found my copy of his first novel to read it again. I quite enjoy how he depicts his heroines—I never feel as though they come into trouble due to stupidity, as so often is the case in other novels.” Juniper bit her lip and then offered an apologetic, “Excuse my enthusiasm. He is one of the few masculine writers I enjoy, and for that very reason.”

The woman beamed as though Juniper had praised her directly, then prodded her husband’s side. “You see? What I’ve told you is true. Intelligent young ladies need you to keep writing your novels precisely in the manner you do, my darling.” Then she looked proudly at Juniper. “I am Mrs. Erasmus Grey, and this is my husband, the author himself.”

It was interesting to see a grown man blush, but Mr. Grey did exactly that. He bowed to Juniper and then to Jack. “How do you do. P-P-Please, excuse my wife’s enthusiasm. She is p-proud of me, I am afraid, and must let everyone else know of it.”

Jack took over their introductions at once, quite properly. “I am Mr. John Sterling. Please, allow me to introduce Lady Juniper Amberton, sister to the Earl of Haverford, currently residing in London with her brother-in-law, Lord Dunmore of Ireland.”

Jack struck her as highly amused, if Juniper read the twinkle in his eye rightly, but she had nearly lost the ability to speak. She stared at Mr. Grey with wide-eyed wonder, a thousand questions rushing to her lips, and she finally had to give her head a slight shake to find any words at all. “Mr. Grey…it is an honor to meet you. I have read and enjoyed all your books, several times each. Thank you for writing such thrilling stories. They have made me laugh, cry, and wish dearly for one-page-more every time.”

His blush if possible darkened, and he bowed. “You are m-most welcome, Lady Juniper. I am gratified to hear that you enjoy my endeavors.”

She looked from him to his wife, and then up at Jack. It would be the height of rudeness to interrupt their outing to appease her curiosity and release her enthusiasm, she knew that. But the idea of simply ending the conversation at that moment, without any further opportunity for discussion, made her feel ill. In the moment reason failed her, and she knew not what to do.

But Jack gave her a reassuring smile—a real one this time—and gracefully withdrew a card from his pocket. “I do not wish to distract from your enjoyment of the Tower, Mr. Grey. But I would be honored if you would call upon me at my father’s home while you are in Town.”

Oh, her card. Of course! Juniper withdrew her own and handed it to Mrs. Grey. “And I should dearly love to have you for tea, Mrs. Grey. I think my sister, Lady Dunmore, would be pleased to meet you.”

The couple graciously accepted the cards and exchanged them for their own, then continued onward .

Juniper looked up at Jack and grinned. “I am so glad you were with me, I felt like a ninny for a moment.”

“You were merely a touch overwhelmed, as one would expect when unexpectedly meeting someone you admire. You recovered well.” He held his arm out to her. “Now, our sisters are about to leave this room for the next, and I must keep them in my sight, so we had better pick up our feet.”

She laid her hand on his arm and allowed him to whisk her into the next room.

The absolute delight Jack had seen on Juniper’s face when she met Mr. and Mrs. Grey had done a considerable job toward making the day brighter for him in turn. Her genuine compliments, delivered with enthusiasm, had made him wish to read the books by the gentleman—if only to better understand a thing that pleased her.

Truly, a foolish notion, and an impulse that his sisters-in-law would declare to be absolute proof of his interest in her…something which, he admitted to himself as he observed her studying a suit of armor said to belong to Queen Elizabeth, he couldn’t well deny to himself any longer.

Lady Juniper Amberton, a lady born and bred, had captured his curiosity the moment he’d first heard her speaking with her sisters at Clairvoir. She’d eagerly called the castle itself a perfect homage to Gothic architecture and wondered aloud if the duchess had hidden secret passageways throughout to better assist in that endeavor.

Curiosity had turned to admiration, and now admiration turned from interest to something more.

Affection.

An affection he had to tamp down upon severely, as he had absolutely no business in having any such feelings toward a lady befriending his sister as a favor to his former employer who undoubtedly saw him still in the role of servant. Juniper, delightful as she was, was still several rungs above him—at least, in his own mind. Out of his reach. Even if they both now existed as children to English lords, he’d been thrust unwillingly into the position; she embodied it quite beautifully.

“She was a tall woman, wasn’t she?” he heard Juniper remark as she examined the armor on its mannequin, with a face painted to resemble the most popular of the former queen’s portraits.

“I find it interesting that most of the suits of armor seem the size of an average man, rather than tall men,” Emily said in reply. “One thinks of knights as larger than life—or at least strapping enough to accomplish great heroic feats or look fearsome in battle.” She looked back at Jack. “My brother is rather tall, and he’s a former lieutenant.”

Jack approached and eyed the armor behind the chain-rope, looking it over with a critical eye. “Her Majesty certainly wasn’t meant to fight in this, merely make an appearance to rally her troops.”

“Encouraging them to rout Spain,” Juniper said with a quick nod. “Which the weather ended up doing on England’s behalf.”

“Ah, here you are,” a voice said, far too loud in the quiet rooms of historical armor.

Jack and the ladies turned, wondering who was being addressed thus, and his eyes landed on the man quickly approaching their party as his heart sank.

Mr. Waldegrave. How had that ridiculous man found them at the Tower?

Emily made a somewhat choked sound as she whispered to Juniper, “One of my callers yesterday. Do you know him?”

“Not in the slightest.”

That spoke further against the man’s favor. If Juniper had never been introduced to him, by either her brother or brother-in-law, he likely wasn’t worth knowing. Jack’s stomach twisted; the thought was perhaps a bit harsh—after all, he himself had only recently joined Society—until the man opened his mouth.

“Lady Emily, Mr. Sterling, a true pleasure to finally join you both on this most prodigious outing. Ah, the history of our country on full display, in all its might. Wonderful, do you not think, Lady Emily?”

Presumptuous man, to come upon them and then attempt to join them without an invitation! Jack cleared his throat. “Lady Juniper, may I present to you Mr. Waldegrave. Mr. Waldegrave, this is Lady Juniper Amberton, and her sister Lady Betony, sisters to the Earl of Haverford. We are escorting them on their outing this afternoon.”

There. That was a clear, precise, polite boundary to offer. The party belonged to the sisters Amberton, and the gentleman could not simply invite himself along.

Except after making brief bows to them, the fool ignored them completely and turned his sights fully on Emily again. Making no move to excuse himself, Mr. Waldegrave continued loudly, “A dark-weather day like this makes it a fine time to stay indoors. I had no notion anyone, least of all a fine lady such as yourself, would venture out when the sky could open up at any moment in winter torrents. Lady Emily, I am pleased I could make haste to see you here when I found you not at home.”

Who the devil had told this man where they had gone? Jack had every intention of taking them to task at the first opportunity; no one in the duke’s home would have dared give the location of family away to someone not already an intimate acquaintance. Were servants of earls less competent than those of dukes?

Lady Juniper bent her head to receive a genteelly whispered remark from her sister, nodded sharply, and stepped forward with a graceful raise of her hand. “Oh, Mr. Waldegrave, have you visited the Tower before? You sound like you are well informed of its history.”

He blinked at her as his chest puffed out. “Oh, indeed! I have not been here since boyhood, but every man in England knows all about the Tower and its magnificent history. Have you not a pamphlet?” He held his hand out, and Betony slid her thin booklet into his hand, stepping slightly in front of Emily as she did so.

“Ah, yes. Here we are.” He opened it, and began to read loudly about Elizabeth, adding none of his own thoughts or conversation, merely posturing with one hand raised as though he delivered a sermon rather than read aloud from a common guidebook.

Jack took his sister’s arm and led her a few steps away, blocking her from Waldegrave’s sight. “You look decidedly uncomfortable. Shall I dismiss him?”

“Wouldn’t that be terribly rude?” Her cheeks were red and her eyes lowered as she looked around at the other people milling about the room, several of them sending confused glances toward Waldegrave. “We cannot give offense. He has important relatives, and he has mentioned them several times.”

“You have important friends, and it was rude of him to show himself here, uninvited.”

“Who do you think told him?—?”

“Whoever it is will be sacked.”

“Jack! You cannot!” She gaped at him. “Correct the behavior, but do not punish anyone for it. You needn’t be a tyrant.”

He glowered at her as a voice he recognized whispered guidance, not governance .

“What exactly was it like to work for the duke? Was he prone to throwing out good servants for small mistakes?”

“This would not be a small mistake in his household,” he said, voice lowered. “It is a matter of security—and your safety.”

Emily winced. “I sincerely doubt whoever told Mr. Waldegrave where we were thought it would lead to any harm.” She lifted her chin. “I can put up with him for a short time. We are nearly finished in the Tower anyway. After we see the Regalia, we can leave him behind and go home.”

Annoyed by both Waldegrave and his sister’s determination to let the man follow them about, Jack ensured to offer her his arm to keep the other man from doing so. He was therefore forced to grit his teeth when Juniper politely accepted Waldegrave’s escort through the rest of the Line of Kings.

The idiot kept reading aloud from the pamphlet every time they came upon a new display, and both Amberton sisters continued to listen to him as though fascinated by the words they had every ability to read for themselves. Every time he looked over his shoulder for Emily, either Betony or Juniper would claim his attention by asking him another question.

They acted as though they had distracted annoying suitors before, and such was their success that they had Mr. Waldegrave walking ten feet ahead of Jack and Emily on their way across the courtyard to where the Regalia was displayed in a dark room, called the jewel office.

Strong iron bars divided the room, stretching from ceiling to floor. There were no windows, no light, and the room walls were made of stone. An elderly woman on the other side of the bars stood from a chair, holding a candle as she gestured to each piece within. The display was splendid, the jewels set in gold, the crowns, diadems, scepters, and such glittering in the soft light.

“The imperial crown,” the woman said, holding her light to the crown itself. “It has been used for more than seven-hundred years, adorning the heads of the kings and queens of England upon their coronations.”

The crown consisted of a purple velvet cap, lined with ermine, richly adorned with pearls, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and diamonds. It was a dazzling sight .

“To think, so many of our kings and queens have worn those fine jewels,” Mr. Waldegrave said loudly as they stepped again into the gray light of day. “It makes one rather proud to be English, does it not?”

Lady Juniper casually took her hand from his arm. “Of course—excepting when one considers how horrid some of the things that happened here were. Did you not have a Yeoman’s tour? You simply must, Mr. Waldegrave. Look there—one is just beginning. Surely, someone as interested in English history as yourself would not pass up such an opportunity.”

Though Jack sensed that Juniper laid a trap for Mr. Waldegrave, the other gentleman seemed to have no idea the precariousness of his situation and blithely took her bait.

“Oh, of course, absolutely. One simply must take in the tour by the Yeomen. I had no notion of forgoing the pleasure today, in fact I am quite looking forward to it,” Waldegrave insisted with a grin.

Lady Betony put her hands behind her back and looked upward at the sky, and Jack caught a twitch at her lips.

His sister had caught on, too, and lent her voice to their efforts. “It is such a good thing, I think, when a gentleman shows interest in intellectual pursuits, expanding his knowledge of history and our culture. Truly, an admirable thing.” Emily’s modest smile was as much directed to Juniper as to Waldegrave, but the pompous man puffed up like a peacock on display.

“I would not dream of missing such a thing. Indeed, one must seize the moment at hand. This tour is exactly what we need, I think, to further shore up our minds for the day’s events.”

Jack had to cover his laugh by turning it into a cough, putting his gloved first to his mouth and turning away slightly.

“And we would not dream of depriving you of that pleasure,” Lady Juniper said as she took a step away. “I hope you enjoy yourself immensely. Until we meet again, Mr. Waldegrave.” She curtsied and Betony did the same beside her.

Watching the man come to understand Juniper’s maneuvering gave Jack more pleasure than it ought to have, and indeed it was the same sensation he had felt on the battlefield when a particularly clever plan came to fruition and routed the enemy.

First Waldegrave appeared confused, then surprised, and finally irritated. “You—you are not to take the tour yourselves? Lady Emily?” he asked, looking at all of them.

“We enjoyed the tour of the grounds before we entered the Tower,” Juniper said in a most controlled voice that sounded far too innocent to Jack’s ears.

“You will enjoy it, Mr. Waldegrave,” Betony said, linking arms with Juniper. “I am certain it will provide much to think upon. Good day.”

With the sisters having taken their leave, all Jack and Emily had to do was bow and follow them. A few steps ahead of them, Betony’s shoulders were shaking terribly. He heard Juniper whisper to her sister, “Do not laugh until we are over the bridge!”

He snorted, and Juniper cast him a disapproving look over her shoulder…or she tried to. Her own eyes twinkled far too merrily for him to take the correction seriously. When they finally crossed the little bridge that had once stretched over a moat, Jack allowed himself a chuckle, Betony burst into giggles, Emily heaved a huge sigh of relief, and Juniper shook her head at all of them—then had to cover her mouth when she snorted aloud.

It was an adorable little sound.

Jack cleared his throat as he led them to the waiting carriage. “Ladies, I believe this particular battle victory calls for a celebration. Is it too cold to get ices at Gunter’s?”

“It is never too cold for ices,” Betony said decidedly, and the other two swiftly agreed .

As Jack settled himself in the carriage, directly across from Juniper, he met her gaze, trying to show his full approval and gratitude with no more than a smile and his eyes.

Given the slight pinkening of her cheek and the way she nodded at him, once with deliberate slowness, he was quite certain she understood him. It was an exceedingly good feeling, to be understood by one as lovely as she.