"Julia, no! Absolutely not!" Phoebe, Julia's petite blond
sister-in-law, jumped to her feet at Julia's words, her
hand flying to her chest as if to keep her heart from
leaping right out of it. "You cannot. You must not. You
don't know what you are saying!"
Julia sighed. She had known that Phoebe would react like
this to the announcement of her new plan. Seduction was
simply not something a well-bred young lady of 1811 set
out to accomplish. "I do know what I'm saying. And I don't
intend to actually sleep with the man."
Phoebe let out a strangled cry and sank back into her
chair. "Julia!"
"I should think that would please you," Julia stated
practically.
"Well, of course I don't want you to — to — you know —
but, Julia, dear, you show such a want of propriety! To
even speak of such a thing!" Her cheeks flamed at the
thought.
"How else can I explain it to you?" Julia had little use
for many of the conventions of Society. Because of her
mother's long illness, she had not made her debut when she
should have, and then there had been the tremendous
scandal around her brother, after which she and Phoebe had
been ostracized by the ton. So she had never lived through
a stifling London Season, her every word and action
examined and criticized by the leading lights of the
fashionable world. That, Phoebe was sure, was to blame for
Julia's lack of conventionality.
Julia knew that it went much further back. Her mother,
like Phoebe, had tried to instill ladylike behavior in her
daughter, but her sweet nature had never had the iron
necessary to win in a battle of wills with Julia. Both her
father and brother had doted on Julia, and they had found
her bright wit amusing and her courageous spirit
admirable. She had been allowed to express herself freely,
to study where her curious mind led her, and to attempt
whatever physical feat intrigued her. As a result, she had
a quick mind and an even quicker tongue, could ride as if
one with her horse, could hit a bull's-eye with both
firearm and arrow, and brimmed with a confidence that few
women of her age had. The best that her mother had managed
to do was to teach her manners, dancing and the
obligations of a lady. In public she had learned to curb
her tongue and control her actions, primarily so that she
would not cause her mother or Phoebe distress.
Phoebe moaned and sank her head in her hands. "Julia, you
cannot do this. Selby would be furious with me if he knew!
I shouldn't have let you come to London. I shouldn't have
agreed to any of this. Your first plan was bad enough —
kidnapping Stonehaven and forcing him to confess! But
this…!"
"Phoebe, don't fail me now." Julia crossed the room and
knelt in front of the other woman's chair, taking Phoebe's
hands in hers. Phoebe was as dear and sweet as a woman
could be, and Julia understood why her brother had loved
her so much, but there were times when Julia wished that
her timid sister-in-law had a little more fire in
her. "You mentioned the first plan. Remember how you
worried and fretted over it? You were afraid that I would
get hurt if I went along with Nunnelly and Jasper. You
were afraid my reputation would be ruined."
Phoebe nodded. "Yes. I was cast into despair every time
you went out!"
"But nothing happened, did it?" Julia continued. "I came
back safely every time, even tonight, and Lord Stonehaven
never had the least clue that the lad atop the coach was
I."
"I know, and I thank the Lord for it."
"Then believe me when I tell you that nothing bad will
come of this, either. I told you, I'm not about to let the
man have his way with me. I'm simply talking about meeting
him, flirting with him, leading him on a little.
Encouraging him to talk about what he's done."
Phoebe gazed at her doubtfully. "Do you think that will
work on a man like Lord Stonehaven?"
"I am certain of it. Look —" she sat down on the floor
beside Phoebe's chair and eagerly explained
" — there are two things I learned from following Lord
Stonehaven these past three weeks. One was that taking him
by force simply will not work. I did not know the man. I
assumed that someone who did as foul a thing as he did to
Selby would be too cowardly to even resist us. But
physically he is strong and, I must admit, quite brave. He
did not run from two men, instead he stayed and defeated
them!" She could not keep a tinge of admiration from
seeping into her voice. "Even tonight, when we were in the
carriage and running away, he came after us — knowing that
there were three of us. But —" she paused significantly " —
the other thing that I discovered about him is that Lord
Stonehaven is very fond of women."
"A roué?"
Julia shrugged. "I don't know that I would go as far as
that. He doesn't seem to pursue innocent maidens. I have
only seen him with sophisticated ladies and, uh, well,
women of a certain sort."
"Oh, Julia…" Phoebe moaned.
"But don't you see? That will work to our advantage!"
Julia cried. "The man has a weakness, and it is women.
That is why I realized that if I could get close to him,
talk to him, I could worm the truth out of him. Why, you
yourself have told me that it is when a man is pursuing a
woman that he is most vulnerable, the most eager to
please. Doesn't it follow that that is when he will be the
most likely to tell me what I want to know?"
"I don't know." Phoebe looked uncertain. It seemed to her
that Selby had been at his most vulnerable after they had
made love, but she certainly could not reveal something
like that to his sister!
"I have found with my suitors that they are amazingly
eager to talk, especially about themselves and how clever
they are and what great things they have done. They want
to impress me. I suspect that Lord Stone-haven is the same
way."
"Perhaps so, but, Julia, I think that you are getting in
over your head. You haven't even made your debut, and Lord
Stonehaven is a wealthy man who has been on the town for
some years. I am sure he is in his thirties."
Julia raised her eyebrows and stood up, putting a hurt
look on her face. "Are you saying that you do not think I
can attract a sophisticated man like Lord Stonehaven? That
only those who live in a little town like Whitley are
drawn to me?"
Her gentle sister-in-law looked horrified, as Julia had
known she would, and she forgot her questions for a moment
in a storm of anxiety. "Oh, no, I did not mean that!
Dearest Julia, you must know that I would never think you
could not attract any man you wish. You are the most
beautiful woman I know. Not just in Kent — I am sure that
if you had had a Season in London, you would have outshone
all the other debutantes."
Julia smiled. She had not really had any qualms about her
ability to attract a man, sophisticated or not. She had
merely wanted to distract Phoebe from her worries. Julia
Armiger had been assured that she was a beauty from the
time she was old enough to toddle. The eager pursuit of
her since she was sixteen by every gentleman within the
vicinity of their country house had done nothing to
disabuse her of the notion. Indeed, looking in the mirror
each day was reassurance enough of that. Her figure was
tall, slender and high-breasted, the perfect body for the
high-waisted, soft, flowing styles that were currently
popular. Her hair was a rich auburn, thick and inviting,
and her eyes were a vibrant blue, accented by thick
lashes. Everything about her face, from her creamy white
complexion to the narrow arch of her dark brown brows to
the sweet curve of her full lower lip, all combined to
create a perfection that would perhaps have been cold if
it had not been for the warmth of her smile and the pert
little dimple that often creased her cheek.
Julia was not vain about her beauty. She accepted it as a
fact, just as she accepted that she could handle a horse
or read a book. Her beauty, she had found, meant a great
deal more to others than it did to her. Indeed, there had
been times when it had been a trial, when she had wished
when conversing with a man that he could talk to her about
something more interesting than the quality of her skin or
the brightness of her eyes. It seemed to her that, in
choosing a wife, it would be more important to find a
pleasing personality such as Phoebe had than great beauty.
"Do you forgive me, dear Julia?" Phoebe asked with some
anxiety, and Julia bent to give her a reassuring hug.
"Of course. I was merely teasing you. You have paid me
compliments often enough to turn my head, I assure you."
Phoebe smiled and relaxed. "Good. What I meant to say was
that Lord Stonehaven has had far more experience than you.
I am sure that he will admire you the moment he sees you,
but it is what he might do that worries me. You intend
only to tease him, but he is a dangerous man. An
unscrupulous one! Think what he did to Selby, who had been
his friend for years. What if you arouse him, and he — he
does not behave like a gentleman? What if he —" She
lowered her voice. "What if he forces you?"
"I may not have made my Season, but I have had some
experience with men. I do not think the ones in Kent are
that different from other men. I have always been able to
handle my suitors, including the one or two who made less-
than-gentlemanly overtures to me."
Phoebe's eyes widened. "No! They did? Who?" Julia
chuckled. "Squire Buntwell, for one."
"Squire Buntwell! That old pudding!" Phoebe exclaimed
indignantly. "What would he think a woman like you would
want with him? Why, he's fifty if he's a day, and married,
besides."
"I don't think he was overly concerned with what I wanted,
only with what he wanted. Anyway, I made it clear to him
that he should look elsewhere for his satisfaction."
Julia's eyes twinkled with laughter as she recalled the
incident.
"What did you do?"
"I stamped hard on his instep and punched him in that fat
stomach. And while he was doubled over, trying to catch
his breath, I told him that if he ever tried it again, I
would tell his wife, the pastor and all the gossips in the
county. He would be a laughingstock. I think he saw my
point."
Phoebe giggled. "I am sure he did. But I don't think that
would necessarily work with a man like Stone-haven."
"Perhaps not. However, I can carry Selby's detonator with
me," Julia said, naming the small pocket-size pistol in
her brother's collection. "I would think that a man's
ardor decreases dramatically when he's staring down the
barrel of a firearm."
"Julia!" Phoebe looked shocked, but could not keep from
bursting into laughter.
At that moment they were interrupted by the tumultuous
entrance of a six-year-old boy.
"Mama! Mama! Oh, Auntie, there you are. I was looking
everywhere for you. Look what I got!" He held out one
grubby hand, palm up, to reveal a prize he knew would be
far more appreciated by his aunt than his loving, but
strangely squeamish, mother.
"A caterpillar!" Julia cried, echoed somewhat less
enthusiastically by Phoebe, and bent down to look at the
prize in the boy's hand. "Wonderful, Gilbert! You didn't
squash it a bit, either."
Gilbert nodded proudly. "I know. I 'membered what you
said, how the green juice was like blood to him, so I
didn't squeeze him."
"Good lad."
"Could I keep him?" He looked over at his mother.
"Please?"
Phoebe smiled at the boy. Sturdily built, he had an
angelic face, with her own light blue eyes and sweet
smile, but Selby's strong chin and jaw. A cloud of bright
red-gold curls added to the illusion of a cherub. Phoebe,
while she might not share her son's fondness for worms,
snakes and caterpillars, rarely could deny him anything.
"Of course you can, sweetheart. Just make sure to put him
in a container, though, or he might frighten the maids."