"She's conversing with another woman—"
"Another sister. But Juliana is supposed to be meeting men. I despair of ever finding her a husband."
"Ah." Dropping the quizzing glass, James let it dangle on its long silver chain and focused on Cainewood, who'd been a boon companion in their days at Oxford. He hadn't seen the man in years, and he'd never met his family, but in an odd way he felt he still knew him. He couldn't help but smile at his old friend's consternation.
"Juliana is twenty-two," Cainewood added as though that explained everything.
"That doesn't sound particularly old." James himself was twenty-nine.
"I'll have to marry Corinna off after her." Cainewood gestured toward his other sister, a pretty girl with long, wavy brown hair. "I'd hoped to get them both settled this season, but Juliana isn't cooperating. And unfortunately, I believe she's already met everyone here, except…" His green gaze narrowed on James. "Perhaps you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you," Cainewood said with the easy smile that had won him so many women in their university years. "Will you at least suffer an introduction to Juliana? You're an earl now, aren't you? An earl needing a wife."
An earl needing a wife…the same exact words James's mother had used to describe him earlier this evening as she'd all but dragged him from the carriage into this house.
But although James had inherited the title nearly three years ago, he still had a hard time thinking of himself as an earl, let alone an earl needing a wife.
A second son raised in a close family, James had never thought he'd become the Earl of Stafford. That had been his older brother's future, not his. Following university, James's father had bought him a commission in the army. He hadn't ever minded being an officer. It was expected. He wasn't drawn toward the clergy, and many of his friends—Cainewood included—had embraced the military life. After less than two years, though, James had been wounded and sent home.
Thinking back to those days now, he shifted and flexed his left knee, which always ached in the sort of cold, wet weather London had seen this summer. On days like this he still walked with a slight limp, but he was profoundly grateful the army surgeons had managed to save his leg rather than amputating it. So grateful that, needing another profession after his recovery, he'd become a physician. He hadn't been long out of medical school before he'd realized he'd found his true calling. In the years following his return to England, James had been a man completely happy with his choice of work and his life, especially after he fell in love and married.
Then everything had fallen apart.
His brother had died first, leaving James reeling with the realization that he'd someday be the earl. He didn't want to be an earl—he liked being a physician. He liked helping people, and he liked feeling that he made a difference. Every day was unique and challenging, and there were always successes to balance the disappointments. Managing an earldom seemed such a tedious, thankless task in comparison.
Then, while he was still coping with the loss of his brother, his father's heart had stopped, and suddenly James was the earl, like it or not.
The first months after that had passed in a dark, painful blur, but his young wife had helped him through those days and weeks, until one morning James had awakened and realized he was happy. Perhaps a bit guiltily happy—he still mourned his brother and father, after all—but happy nonetheless. He'd found he quite liked sitting in the House of Lords—it was another chance to make a difference—and managing the earldom wasn't as thankless a task as he'd believed. And, in addition, his wife had convinced him that he could be a physician as well as an earl, regardless of the narrow views of society, and help more people than ever, now that he had no need of the income. Utilizing the vast fortune left to him, James had opened a facility in London where children whose families were too poor to pay for doctors could get smallpox vaccinations, an endeavor dear to his heart. Life had been good again. And he and his wife were expecting a baby, their first child.
What man wouldn't have been happy?
Then his wife had died in childbirth, and their baby, born too early, had died along with her. All the physicians, James included, hadn't made a bit of a difference. And James had wondered if he'd ever be happy again.
Now, two years later, he was still wondering. But his mother was pressuring him to remarry and sire some heirs, and although he didn't expect to find happiness or love again, he figured he might as well at least consider making her happy. She was a good, caring mother, after all, and perhaps a wife, even one not loved, would ease some of the loneliness he'd suffered these two years past. So he'd allowed himself to be dragged to this ball. And now he forced himself to smile and answer Cainewood.
"Yes, I'm an earl. And I'd be pleased to meet your sister."
Cainewood wasted no time marching him across the room and introducing him to both of his sisters. As James bowed over Juliana's hand, he caught himself gazing into dancing eyes that were full of life. He'd thought he'd be immune to Cainewood's sister, so he found himself surprised. Or perhaps shocked would be a better word.
And it felt wrong somehow.
But Cainewood's sister was a pretty thing, and he couldn't seem to wrench his gaze from those eyes. Green eyes. No, blue. He couldn't decide. They seemed to change as he watched.
"Will you honor me with a dance?" he asked, bemused.
"It would be my pleasure," she assured him.
He hadn't danced since his wife died. He wondered if he remembered how. But there was a waltz playing, and Juliana fairly melted into his arms.
He remembered.
"What color are your eyes?" he asked.
She laughed, a joyful, tinkling sound. "Hazel.
