A Gentleman for Lady Juniper (Clairvoir Castle #6)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

H yde Park was at its liveliest during the fashionable hour, the lanes crowded with carriages, riders, and walkers, their bright clothes and cheerful voices filling the air. Jack rode beside Emily, keeping his gaze ahead, but his awareness stretched outward to every nod, glance, and murmur which came their way. The sun had come out to brighten the gray March day and glinted off the shining carriage wheels, but despite the cheerful setting, there was a distinct chill in the greetings they received.

A nod here, a faint smile there, but the warmth had waned since the last time they had taken a ride through the park. Emily had evidently noticed it, too; her expression grew more subdued as they made their way through the park and her posture, usually so upright and confident, seemed a touch less assured. Jack could sense her discouragement, even as she maintained her composure, her gloved hands holding the reins with a calmness that belied her true feelings.

“That was Lady Westcott and her daughter on our left,” Emily said quietly, her gaze flicking back to a pair of women they had just passed. “She looked as though she might speak, but then changed her mind.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Perhaps she was simply distracted,” he offered, though he knew that wasn’t the case. The coolness in the air had nothing to do with the weather or the distractions of others. He had noticed it in the way people stepped out of their path, their nods curt rather than cordial. It was subtle, but unmistakable—a shift from the polite curiosity that had greeted their family’s entry into Society, to something more dismissive.

Emily gave a small, resigned sigh. “It seems as though we are to be outcasts after all,” she said, attempting a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I suppose it was bound to happen eventually.”

Jack shook his head, a surge of frustration making him clench the reins. His horse snorted and shook his head and he patted the beast’s neck to reassure him. “Nonsense. They have no reason to look down on us. We’ve done nothing to merit it.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and his sister flinched slightly at the edge in his voice.

He gentled his tone, giving her a sidelong glance. “Let them have their airs. We belong here as much as anyone now.” Even as he spoke, the words felt hollow. His mind flashed back to the gossip Juniper had mentioned—the unfounded whispers about their family’s sudden rise. It stung to see Emily affected by it, even as she tried to hide her pained disappointment.

Yet this was what their lives were to be, it seemed; within the ton, but distant from it.

They continued along the path, and Jack noticed every sidelong glance. The fashionable hour had fully arrived and the park was as crowded as usual, the paths bustling with people. It was then, as Jack’s frustration simmered, that he felt a shift in Emily’s attention.

“Oh, thank heavens. Look, Jack.”

Jack glanced up and saw the cause of her good cheer; three women on horseback approached, weaving through carriages ahead of them. The leading rider, with her bright eyes and tall riding hat, was none other than Lady Juniper Amberton. Beside her rode Lady Dunmore, and the third woman, dressed in fine Italian silk, was the Contessa di Atella. The trio cut an elegant figure, their presence causing admiring glances to follow them along the path.

Jack’s pulse quickened, and he sat straighter in his saddle. Juniper, looking radiant atop her chestnut mare, drew his gaze as effortlessly as the sunlight drew the eye. He watched her approach, a sense of relief coming over him despite his promise to ignore his nascent feelings for her. The quiet longing he felt whenever she was near was becoming far too familiar.

As if in answer to his uncertain feelings, Juniper raised a gloved hand with a crop gripped in it, her face brightening as she drew nearer. She inclined her head in greeting, her smile warm and genuine, and for a moment the chill in the air faded.

As Juniper, Ivy, and the contessa drew nearer, the lively din of the park seemed to grow a little quieter, as all of Jack’s attention went to the woman at the center of the trio. Juniper, riding at the front, reined in her mare with an effortless grace, her cheeks slightly flushed from the exercise and her eyes glowing as they met his.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sterling, Lady Emily,” she called out warmly, her smile brightening as she inclined her head. A touch of cheerful familiarity in her tone seemed to defy the chill surrounding their afternoon thus far. “It is such a pleasure to see you both. What a lovely day for a ride.”

Emily’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the friendly greeting. “Good afternoon, Lady Juniper. It is indeed,” she replied, her own smile emerging with renewed confidence. “And you are in fine company, I see.” She nodded toward Lady Dunmore and Lady Atella, who rode alongside Juniper with easy smiles of their own .

Jack inclined his head, his gaze drifting between the three women. That was it, he could not merely look at one of them… “Lady Dunmore, Lady Atella,” he greeted them, his tone polite but carrying a hint of relief. “It is good to see all of you out enjoying the day.”

The baroness returned the greeting with a nod. “It is good to see you as well. The park is simply too beautiful to be tucked up indoors today,” she said, her voice full of affection as she glanced at Emily. “It has been too long since we last saw you, Lady Emily. I hope all is well?”

Emily offered a polite smile. “All is well, thank you. The fine weather has kept the park from being quiet today.”

Lady Atella laughed lightly. “Ah, but it is never truly quiet, is it? Not when so many come to see and be seen.” Her gaze flickered over some of the onlookers, who quickly turned their attention elsewhere. “It seems like the attention is always ready to find those who least wish for it.”

Juniper glanced at Jack, a subtle concern in her eyes as though she sensed the tension lingering in his heart. “I hope we are not intruding on your ride,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity that made Jack’s pulse quicken. “We happened to see you both, and I could not let the opportunity to greet you pass us by.”

Jack shook his head, managing a brief smile. “Not at all. Your company is always welcome.” He glanced at Emily, whose spirits were noticeably lifted by the arrival of familiar faces. “In fact, I believe you may have brightened our afternoon considerably.”

The words were light, but he meant them. The presence of these women—especially Juniper—pushed back against the chill which had followed them since they’d entered the park. He watched as Juniper and Emily exchanged a few more words, and his gratitude for her public kindness increased tenfold.

As the group continued to converse, Jack’s gaze drifted to the people around them. Though some still cast glances in their direction, there was a change in the air. It was subtle, but the cold stares were fewer and less certain, as if the open friendliness of the other respected ladies gave people reason to pause in their judgment and suppositions. Still, Jack felt the need to be on guard, sensing that the park held more than idle chatter.

For a moment his gaze met Juniper’s again, and he was struck by the warmth in her eyes. It wasn’t a casual expression in the least; it was a look which said, I see you, and I stand with you.

The conversation continued, and though the talk was light—weather, recent events, a concert last evening and plans for the coming week—there was an unspoken understanding that something was different. Jack could feel it in the way Emily’s smile softened, the way her spirits rallied with each passing moment in company with the other ladies. He was grateful for it, but he couldn’t entirely shake the underlying unease which still clung to him, like a shadow on a bright day.

As Lady Dunmore and Emily spoke of a new gallery exhibition opening in Mayfair, Juniper guided her mare a little closer to Jack’s. “You look as though you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she murmured, her tone low and meant for his ears alone. “Is something amiss, Atlas?”

Now it was her turn to tease him, it appeared; he did not miss the name of the Titan known to hold the entirety of the globe on his back.

Jack glanced at her, his pulse quickening at the concern in her voice. It took him a moment to find the right words, and they had to be the right words. “It is nothing,” he said quietly, though even as the words left his lips, he knew she would feel the lie in them. The cold nods and whispers of the past week weighed on him more than he cared to admit. “Or perhaps is only that—” He shook his head. “Some of the attention we have received of late has not been entirely welcoming. ”

Juniper’s brow furrowed slightly, her gaze flickering to the nearby riders who were keeping their distance. “I wondered if it would continue after the ball you told me of,” she said softly. “I am sorry you are going through this. The vagaries of Society are many and unpredictable, and universal approval from its quarters is rare and fleeting.”

A tightness gripped Jack’s chest, and he tried to brush it off with a faint, humorless smile. “It appears we have not found that illusive approval,” he replied, his voice betraying a hint of bitterness. “Perhaps we will regain some sort of notice, though likely it will not be positive, depending on how one views scandal.”

Her eyes widened. “Scandal?” she echoed, her tone incredulous. “But there is no scandal.”

“True,” Jack said with a nod, “but that has never stopped those who wish to find something to gossip about. And it seems that now we are the favored topic.”

There was a pause as they both took in the implications of his words. Then, with a determined upward tilt of her chin, Juniper spoke. “It is not fair,” she said quietly, a touch of steel in her voice. “None of you deserve to be treated this way. Your family has done nothing but conduct itself with grace and dignity. If others cannot see that, then perhaps it is they who do not belong.”

Jack’s heart gave a faint, almost painful throb at her defense of his family. “You are very kind, Lady Juniper,” he said, his voice low. “I only hope you do not find your own name tangled in this mess simply for associating with us.”

Juniper’s lips curved into a small, defiant smile. “Let them talk,” she said, a quiet fire in her eyes. “If the worst they can say is half-truths and rumors, then I shall not lose any sleep. Your family members are all good people. Things will turn out all right.”

The simplicity of her words, the strength behind them, gave Jack a small measure of comfort. He had never sought to rely on others for reassurance. Reinforcement, yes. But not a soothing of his heart with gentle words. Something about Juniper’s presence made it easier to bear the weight of things far beyond his control. Her belief in his family—her belief in him—felt like the arrival of the calvary in a battlefield of uncertainty.

“Thank you,” he said, the sincerity of his gratitude saturating those two words as much as he could manage. “Your support means more than I can express.”

Juniper’s smile softened and she gave a slight nod, as though to say that there was no need for thanks. “You do not have to bear everything on your own, Jack,” she said gently. The way she said his name made a shiver of pleasure course down his spine, despite the vow he had made to put his feelings for her aside. “Even the strongest shoulders need a bit of help now and then. No one would expect you to face an enemy on the battlefield alone.”

Her words stayed with him as Lady Dunmore, Lady Atella, and Emily’s conversation drew to a natural close and the moment passed, but the warmth of it lingered. As he and Emily continued on with their ride, Jack was struck by a realization that had been slowly dawning over the past weeks—Juniper wasn’t merely a friend of the family or a kind acquaintance. She was someone he could see himself leaning on, someone he could trust with the deepest parts of himself.

And as the group rode on, Jack found that some of the weight pressing down on him had lifted. It was a small reprieve, but it was enough to let him breathe a little easier.

Juniper and Ivy stepped into the entry hall, their riding boots clicking softly against the marble floor .

Ivy took off her hat with a flourish and held it out to the maid waiting to collect their things. “I am marvelously glad that we went for a ride when we did. It was lovely to see Lady Emily and her brother, especially after our recent conversation about your interest in him.”

Hettie bustled into the entry hall, and Juniper handed her gloves and crop to the maid with a grateful smile, her thoughts still lingering on the ride in the park—on Jack’s steady voice and the way his gaze softened every time it rested on her.

She tucked her hand through the crook of her sister’s arm. “Do you think such little public meetings will be enough to quiet the gossip and unkind things others are saying about the family?”

“In time, yes—and when people have something newer or more scandalous to sink their fangs into.” Ivy patted her hand gently. “We will win them over in time. Once his family is more settled, I have no doubt Mr. Sterling will turn his attention to a formal courtship.”

A pleasant warmth remained in Juniper’s cheeks, even as she tried to push aside the foolish flutter in her chest. The air of the house, with its familiar scents of polished wood and fresh flowers, did nothing to pull her from her daydreams. She turned to make her way upstairs when a bright voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Ivy, Juniper! You’ve returned!” Fiona came skidding into the entry hall from the rear of the house, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide with excitement. She held a handful of skirts in one fist to keep from tripping as she ran toward them. “There’s a visitor waiting for Juniper in the front sitting room.”

Juniper’s eyebrows arched in surprise, and she cast a glance toward the closed door of the sitting room’s closed door. “A visitor? For me?” she echoed, amusement coloring her tone. “I hardly expected to have company today.”

“Oh, but you do.” Fiona nodded eagerly, her dark curls bouncing. “It’s a gentleman—or so he says. He’s been waiting for nearly half an hour.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “I think that he thinks he is important. I told him you were out riding, and that Teague wasn’t home, and?—”

“For goodness’ sake, Fi.” Ivy laughed and fondly rustled her young sister-in-law’s hair. “Who is it?”

“His name is Mr. Waldegrave.”

Juniper’s amusement shifted to alarm, a small jolt running through her. Mr. Waldegrave? The unpleasant gentleman who had been so persistent in his attentions toward Emily? What on earth could he want with her? She bit back a laugh at the absurdity of it. “Mr. Waldegrave, you say?” she asked, keeping her voice light as Fiona stared up at her. “Well, that is a surprise.”

Ivy’s brow furrowed. “He is the one who followed Emily about, is he not?”

“Yes.” Juniper shook her head and heaved a sigh. “What could he want with me?”

Fiona looked between the adult ladies with interest, clearly relishing her role as bearer of strange news. “He’s the grandson of an earl, you know. He told me so himself, and said that it is important that he speak with you. He must have a pressing matter to discuss.”

“Indeed,” Juniper murmured, her lips curving into a wry smile despite the flutter of unease in her chest. “Thank you for telling me, Fiona. I suppose I had best not keep Mr. Waldegrave waiting any longer—and you should be in the schoolroom.”

Pulling a face but clearly resigning herself to the end of enjoyment, Fiona skipped toward the stairs and ascended them.

“Would you like my company?” Ivy folded her hands in front of her with a serious expression. “I do not think you ought to see so unpleasant a gentleman on your own, whatever his reasons for visiting and asking for you may be.”

“I will leave the door open and keep one of the footmen in attendance. I know you have a meeting with Lady Jersey within the hour, you had best prepare for that. I think she is a more exacting companion than Mr. Waldegrave will be for me.”

Ivy chuckled and gave Juniper’s hand a squeeze before going toward the stairs where Fiona had disappeared.

As Juniper made her way toward the sitting room, she couldn’t help but feel a mixture of amusement and wariness. What could have prompted Mr. Waldegrave to turn his uninvited attentions toward her, after it had been made plain that Emily was not interested in him? She could hardly imagine anything good coming from his unanticipated visit.

Juniper paused at the doorway of the sitting room, her hand resting lightly on the latch as she took in the scene before her. The room was just as it always was; soft March sunlight peeping through lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floral wallpaper, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

Mr. Waldegrave stood as she entered, his back stiff, his hands clasped behind him with an air of self-importance. He offered a practiced smile, the kind that looked more self-satisfied than truly pleasant, his gaze sweeping over her with the kind of appraisal one might give an object of interest in a shop.

“Lady Juniper,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and polished. “A pleasure, as always. I do hope I am not intruding.”

Juniper inclined her head in a courteous nod, though a sense of unease stirred in her chest. “Not at all, Mr. Waldegrave,” she replied, keeping her tone light. “Though I admit, your visit is rather unexpected. Given that you have waited for me this past half hour, I must either suppose it either important in nature or that you have a particular fondness for our sitting room.”

“Ah, yes.” He gave a slight chuckle, which felt condescending rather than true amusement. “I suppose it is important. I have hoped for the opportunity to speak with you at greater length since the last time we were in company together.” His gaze flicked toward the open door where the footman stood, as though ensuring they were truly alone, before returning to her with a faintly conspiratorial air. “There has been much talk in Society recently—about the Sterlings.”

Juniper felt a small jolt of alarm, but kept her expression neutral as she sank into the nearest chair. “Yes, I am aware the family is often a topic of discussion,” she said cautiously. “I do not see why that should concern you, Mr. Waldegrave.”

His brows lifted ever so slightly and he leaned toward her a little, as though to impart a secret. “It is not myself that I am concerned for, Lady Juniper. It occurred to me that with all the unfortunate rumors surrounding that family, you might wish to reconsider your association with them.” He gave a slight shrug, as if to suggest it was merely a passing thought. “It is not unheard of for young ladies to find themselves inadvertently embroiled in a scandal simply by associating with the wrong people.”

Juniper’s fingers tightened around the arm of the chair, though she kept her tone steady. “I am aware of the rumors, Mr. Waldegrave,” she replied, her voice cool. “I see no reason to distance myself from my friends simply because others choose to gossip about inaccuracies. The Sterling family is intimate with my own, including Lord Dunmore and the Duke of Montfort, and they have done nothing to merit such treatment.”

“Of course, of course,” the unwelcome visitor said quickly, his smile widening, though the gleam in his eyes suggested he was unconvinced. “I meant no offense, my lady. I merely wished to express my concern for your well-being. It would be a shame if you were to be...tainted by association, shall we say?” He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Naturally, I would not presume to tell you who to befriend. I merely thought you might appreciate my friendly advice.”

Juniper’s amusement faded entirely, replaced by a cold resolve. Was this truly his intention—to cast doubt on her friendships in order to further his own interests? She drew herself up straighter, her gaze steady. “Your concern is noted,” she said, her tone edged with politeness. “However, I prefer to judge people by their character and conduct, rather than by the idle chatter of others ill-informed.”

Mr. Waldegrave’s expression flickered, a brief shadow crossing his features before he smoothed it over with another blatantly insincere smile. “A noble sentiment,” he murmured. “I can only hope that the Sterlings prove worthy of such loyalty.”

Juniper’s fingers tapped lightly against the arm of the chair, a small, irreverent impulse stirring within her. It was difficult not to find the situation rather absurd—Mr. Waldegrave, with his perfectly polished shoes and self-important air, standing there as though generously bestowing his great wisdom upon her. His tone was that of a tutor offering advice to a wayward pupil, and she was tempted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Did the man think she had no knowledge of such things?

But then he continued speaking, and the absurdity of the situation gave way to something else—a faint unease, like a shadow creeping across the floor.

“You see, Lady Juniper,” he said, settling himself onto a chair across from her without invitation, as though they were old friends, “a young lady of your standing must take care with whom she associates. A good name is swiftly lost, and though one might sympathize with the unfortunate circumstances that bring about a rise in social rank, there are those who would question whether it was truly deserved.” He gave a slight, dismissive wave of his hand, as though indicating the nebulous ‘those’ who held such opinions.

Juniper’s amusement dimmed further, and she straightened in her seat, tilting her head to regard him more closely. “Are you implying that the Sterlings did not earn their place?” she asked, her tone laced with polite skepticism. “I was under the impression that an inherited title is a matter of birth, not of merit. Their lineage was proven by the king’s own investigator to take up the Benwaith earldom. You wish to disagree with the king?”

Mr. Waldegrave gave a thin-lipped smile, and this time she saw the expression for what it was—one of triumph. “Oh, it was proven, my lady. But you must agree that not all families are equally prepared for the responsibilities that come with a title. It takes more than mere inheritance to maintain one’s standing among the true nobility.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Connections are paramount, you know. One must have the right sort of friends, the right sort of alliances, the right supporters. Our new Lord Benwaith had no such connections…though as you say, John Sterling was quite intimately connected with the Duke of Montfort’s family.”

“Indeed. I met him first when he was employed by them,” Juniper said boldly, chin lifted. This man was not going to cow her. “He was everything that was proper, as befitting a trusted servant to His Grace. I see no reason to hold that past against him, however. Many a man or woman has been elevated by chance in the past.”

“Do you not find it strange that the family has so many of the Duke of Montfort’s closest friends and acquaintances hovering around them, while His Grace himself remains in the countryside?”

“Not at all. We are in close contact with the family, given that my sister-in-law is due to produce a child for the family. You may not know this, Mr. Waldegrave, but I am well aware of why His Grace remains at Clairvoir Castle.” She curled her fingers tighter around the arm of the chair. She would not lose her temper. “His Grace sent letters of introduction to his friends and family in London on behalf of the Sterling family while he awaits his grandchild. Why should such a thing be a surprise to anyone?”

“A duke recommending his former footman to his friends and relations is rather odd.” Mr. Waldegrave shook his head. “ Especially given the number of mistakes they have made since coming. The laundry out the ladies’ windows, the way they choose which parties to attend, the sons of the new earl making spectacles of themselves in clubs by speaking about farming with such gusto—the way they have thrown the unmarried Lady Emily into Society yet allowed her to snub whomever she pleases.”

That comment gave away more than he likely knew, but the sneer on his lips clearly told Juniper more about his true motives than anything. He was upset he had been spurned by a lady he considered beneath him, by virtue of her upbringing. Was that all?

“They do not belong in London,” he said, viciousness entering his tone, “moving among the elite as they wish. They may not for another generation or two. Despite legally inheriting the title, they have no couth, no education, no refinement. They do not belong, and people are beginning to see it. They are not the right sort of connection for one such as yourself, Lady Juniper.”

“I wonder that you are issuing this warning directly to me in private, rather than speaking openly with my brother-in-law, Lord Dunmore, who is my legal guardian.” She forced a smile and lightness of tone to keep from giving offense, as a lady ought. “It seems like that would have been a more respectable course of action.”

He sat back in his chair, his expression relaxed again. “I will certainly speak to him on the matter at a future opportunity, but I am aware you have a certain fondness for Lady Emily. You deserve better friends and connections, my lady.”

His words hung in the air between them, and Juniper felt her faint unease deepen into something more definite. There was an underlying implication in Mr. Waldegrave’s tone which went beyond mere gossip about the Sterlings—as though he were threatening something, or positioning himself to offer something. What exactly, she could not say, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he thought he was being quite clever.

“I see,” she said slowly, allowing just a hint of dryness to seep into her voice. “And I suppose you would consider yourself among those ‘better’ connections?”

The man’s expression brightened, as though she granted him a tremendous compliment. “Why, yes.” He inclined his head with false modesty. “My family, as you may know, has long-standing ties to several prominent families, including the Howards and the Ardens. It is always prudent to align oneself with respectable connections, especially when newly navigating the intricacies of London society. Even for one so fortunate in birth as yourself.”

Juniper barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the sheer pomposity of his speech. Grandson of an earl, indeed. It seemed that Mr. Waldegrave was rather fond of his distant pedigree and fancied himself an expert on social maneuvering, but beneath his affected politeness there was an unmistakable undercurrent—a hint that he was offering himself as a more suitable acquaintance, one whose association would come without the taint of suspicion or questionable connections.

“I appreciate your concern,” she replied, her tone deceptively light. “But I have never been one to choose my friends based on their titles or family connections. I find that one’s character is far more important a thing than the state of birth, wouldn’t you agree?” She raised her eyebrows, her gaze steady as she regarded him.

Mr. Waldegrave’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. “Naturally, Lady Juniper,” he said, though there was a faint burr of irritation in his voice. “But you must admit that one’s character is often judged by the company one keeps.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, her own smile sharpening. “And I have always found Lady Emily Sterling to be excellent company, and so has my family. I am quite content with my friendships, Mr. Waldegrave. So while I will thank you for your advice, I must assure you it is most unnecessary.”

His expression tightened and there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes—displeasure, perhaps, or frustration at her refusal to be swayed. “Well,” he said, with a forced air of geniality, “I am glad we had the opportunity to speak. I only wished to ensure that you had considered all aspects of the matter.”

“I shall certainly reflect upon our conversation,” Juniper replied, standing and inclining her head graciously. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Waldegrave. I trust you will convey my regards to your family.”

The thinly veiled dismissal in her words did not go unnoticed, and his expression hardened slightly as he rose. “Of course,” he said with a stiff bow. “Good day, Lady Juniper.”

As he departed the sitting room Juniper let out a slow breath, though the tension in her shoulders did not ease until she heard the echo of the front door closing behind the unwanted visitor. She could not say what exactly Mr. Waldegrave had been hoping to accomplish, but his conversation left a sour taste in her mouth. There was something unsettling about the way he had spoken of alliances and respectable connections—as though he saw friendships as little more than chess pieces to be moved about for his own benefit.

She met the eyes of the footman who remained standing near the door, finding his concerned gaze on hers.

“Have you need of anything, my lady?” the young man asked.

“Not presently. But thank you, Henry.” She smiled at him, calm and collected, then rubbed at her forehead. “You may go about your other duties.”

For all Mr. Waldegrave’s attempts to plant seeds of doubt, he had only succeeded in strengthening her resolve. Whatever others might think or say, she would not abandon her friends to suit the whims of those who placed so much stock in naught but social status.

And she would certainly not let a man like Mr. Waldegrave convince her otherwise.