“I’m so glad our invitation took precedence,” said Ash with more than a hint of sarcasm.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Only by the merest whisker.”
Thankfully Simon stepped into the fray, no doubt sensing some discord. “We have music, Juliet! Some of the local players have agreed to entertain us this evening. My mother’s idea.”
“How wonderful,” Juliet turned to him and away from Ash, her smile genuine now. “And you are looking so much better, Simon. London must agree with you.”
He flushed, which surprised her, but a moment later the musicians he had just mentioned struck up, and the evening had begun.
After the shaky start, Juliet found she was enjoying herself far more than she’d expected. Once they had eaten so much that they could eat no more, there was dancing and games. Some of the younger guests gravitated to Juliet, finding someone young at heart who would not shoo them away. She found herself laughing more than she had for ages.
It was a pity, she thought, that her own family was so sparse and scattered. Of her close relatives her mother was the only one still living, and despite what Ash had said in the summerhouse, she had no expectation of seeing her again. She spent far more time with Doctor Knowles and his wife than she did with anyone else. They had been more like family than her real family ever was, and she was very fond of them.
Simon introduced Juliet to his intended, Miss Beales, and she found her a pleasant sort of girl, with a sweet smile, and perfectly suited to the man Simon had become.
Several times she caught Ash’s moody gaze on her from across the room. He didn’t want her here, she could tell, but that only compelled her, stubbornly, to enjoy herself more.
At one point in the evening she looked up, and finding his gaze on her again, refused to look away. For long moments they stared at each other through the candle light. The distance between them was too great for her to see his expression, and to know what he was thinking. If she was so inclined she could pretend he was looking at her because he loved her. That he was remembering the kisses they had shared the other day and longing for more.
“Monkstead has some unusual traditions too.” Miss Beales’ voice interrupted her, speaking with Simon. “I mean, like your Midsummer celebrations.”
“Monkstead?” Juliet asked, looking between them.
“Christina is related to the Earl of Monkstead,” Simon explained. “We are neighbours, in a way. Our London town house is in Mockingbird Square, and the earl’s town house is opposite us.”
Miss Beales was speaking in a breathless little voice. “Monkstead House is closed now, and it has been a long time since the earl has presided over any family gatherings, large or small. But I believe they were once much anticipated. When his wife was there with him.”
She looked guilty, as if she shouldn’t have made mention of Monkstead’s wife. Before Juliet could ask her why the earl’s wife was off limits, the children were back, pressing her to come with them, and she allowed them to tug her to her feet.
It was late when Lady Linholm finally declared herself ready for bed. Juliet had never intended to remain so long, and she blamed Ash for it. If he hadn’t been so nasty to her she would have left long ago. Now, when she peered out of the windows, she saw that the rain was heavier than ever. The grounds were saturated and water lay in puddles. She imagined that the lake, which she would have to pass on her way home, would be dark and swollen. Even so she would still have set out, if Lady Linholm had not intervened.
“You really must stay, my dear!”
“Oh no, there is no need. I will wait a little while,” she said. “I’m sure I will be able to leave soon.”
But her hostess would not hear of it.
“There is plenty of room for guests, Juliet,” she said. “I’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere. Besides, we haven’t spoken about the hospital yet. You know I would very much like to help with the costs.”
Blackmail, thought Juliet darkly. For some reason Felicity wanted her to stay. “Very well. If you’re certain . . .”
“Yes, I am certain,” Lady Linholm patted her hand. “Please stay. We will talk in the morning. Only,” and she gave a wan smile, “not too early. I am not as young as I was. Just as well Simon and Christina will be here after they marry and can help me with next year’s Midsummer celebrations.” Then she did a strange thing. She gave a furtive glance over her shoulder in the direction of Ash, who was conversing with another guest.
“It is a pity my eldest son hasn’t found a wife yet,” she said. “I think he is like one of the swans on the lake, Juliet.”
“One of the swans?”
“Surely you know the story?” Lady Linholm was staring at her intently now. “Once they have made their choice of partner, swans mate for life.”
Juliet opened her mouth, perhaps to refute that Ash was anything like a swan, but Lady Linholm didn’t give her time to reply. She was moving toward the staircase that led to the upper rooms. The great hall was part of the old castle at Crevitch, but little else remained. Successive generations had made additions, and although some of the building was a little higgledy-piggledy, it was charming in its own way.
Swans mate for life.
What had Lady Linholm meant? That Ash had chosen her as his lifelong partner? Impossible! As this evening had progressed Juliet had given up on her plan to tell him she loved him. How could she when he avoided her, and on the few occasions when he spoke to her it was in that chilly Lord of the Manor voice? Now all she wanted to do was to slip away and lick her wounds.
She looked again toward the front door, a little longingly, but at that moment a servant arrived to take her in hand, and she was led away to the room allotted to her.
As Juliet climbed the stairs she wondered how she would ever sleep. She had come here with such hope in her heart, only to feel it slowly trickling away. She couldn’t bear to be hurt. Not again. And yet there was that long look he had given her through the candlelight . . . and Lady Linholm’s words.