"You can wait inside the carriage. I won't be long, I promise."
"The neighborhood—"
"The coachman and three footmen are there for your protection." Juliana took her aunt's arm and began easing her toward Emily. "You'll be safe. I'll be out in five minutes."
Her gaze no longer focused on James, Frances consulted the little watch pinned to her dress. "You'd better not take any more time. The Duke of Castleton is calling at half past two."
Following a short negotiation, Juliana finally shut the door behind Aunt Frances, Emily, Herman, and several children who refused to stay inside when there was a snake outside to admire. "Now, if I could have just a few moments of your time, Lord Stafford—"
"James," he interrupted.
"James." She looked around. "Is there someplace private we could speak?"
THIRTEEN
WONDERING WHAT Juliana wanted of him, James led her to an empty treatment room. He also wondered why the thought of Castleton calling on her was so annoying. It must be because Castleton was so very wrong for her. The duke was a prig; she was much too lively for such a stuffy fellow.
Not to mention the prig wanted her only because she came with a celebrated racehorse.
The treatment room held nothing but a chair and a table with the necessary implements, but Juliana glanced around as though she found it interesting. She was wearing a dress with a very tiny bodice.
Well, in truth it wasn't any tinier than the bodices other young ladies of her class wore—high-waisted dresses with low necklines were in fashion, after all—but James wasn't used to seeing women in fashionable dresses at the Institute. The women who came to the Institute generally wore very frumpy clothes. He wouldn't have noticed Juliana's tiny bodice at a ball, but here at the Institute it made him suddenly—uncomfortably—aware that he was alone in a room with an eligible young lady.
An eligible young lady he found entirely too attractive.
He left the door open.
"That child doesn't sound happy," she said, referring to the sobbing girl in the next room.
"Dr. Hanley will give her a sugar stick."
Sure enough, the sobbing stopped. Juliana smiled. "I love sweets." She handed him the small basket she was carrying. "I brought you these."
He lifted the number 36 on top and peered underneath. Appetizing scents of cinnamon and raspberry wafted out.
"They're Shrewsbury cakes," she said. "Chase ladies always bring sweets when we pay calls."
"People don't generally call at the Institute."
"It's not in a very nice neighborhood," she allowed. "Why is that?"
"Those who live in nice neighborhoods are vaccinated by their own doctors. The patients we serve cannot afford to take a hackney coach to Mayfair."
"Oh," she said, looking abashed. "That does make perfect sense."
He offered her an amiable smile. "Have you been vaccinated?"
She glanced warily toward the instruments. "Actually, I was variolated as a small child, before Dr. Jenner invented vaccination."
Variolation was an older procedure, a method of taking pus from the pocks of someone suffering from smallpox and inoculating healthy people with it. James was both surprised and impressed that she knew the difference. Perhaps she wasn't quite as frivolous as he'd thought. "Where did you learn about Edward Jenner?"
"I do read newspapers and magazines, and not just to see the latest fashions. It was quite brilliant of him to figure out that giving people cowpox could keep them from getting smallpox." She glanced toward the instruments again. "I don't need a vaccination, do I?"
"Not if you were variolated. Smallpox variolation grants lifelong immunity. You're lucky you lived through it, though." Variolation usually caused only a mild case of smallpox, but about two patients in a hundred developed a severe case and died. Because those odds were much better than when one caught smallpox naturally—which carried a thirty percent risk of death—many well-informed upper-class parents did have their children variolated throughout most of the eighteenth century. But vaccination with cowpox was much safer.
Juliana looked relieved. "Were you variolated as a child?"
"No, but I was vaccinated while in the army. My commanding officer didn't want his men dying of smallpox." He set the basket on the table. "Can you enlighten me as to the nature of this unexpected call?"
"Try a Shrewsbury cake." She waited while he chose one and took a bite. "I was wondering what you thought of Lady Amanda."
He hadn't thought of Lady Amanda even once since Saturday's ball. "She's lovely," he said tactfully.
Juliana beamed. "I'm so glad you think so."
She was much more interesting than Lady Amanda. "That was delicious," he said, polishing off her cake.
"Have another." She reached into the basket and put one into his hand. "Do you expect you might wish to marry Lady Amanda?"
He nearly choked but managed to cover it with a cough. "I've only danced with her once," he pointed out.
"Quite true," she admitted. "I expect you'll want to court her for a while before making such a decision."
He didn't want to court Lady Amanda at all. But it wouldn't be very seemly to say that out loud, so instead he said, "Yes, one doesn't come to such a decision lightly."
The yes was a mistake. Juliana's lips curved in a delighted smile. "I'm so happy to hear that. I've been wondering, though…since you spend so much time here at the Institute, have you much practice at wooing ladies?"
"Practice?" What man needed practice at such a thing?
"I just thought that since you've been too busy to court many women, it might help if I give you a few lessons."
Lessons? "What sort of lessons?"
"Have another Shrewsbury cake, will you?" She shoved the basket toward him. "The lessons wouldn't be very strenuous, I assure you. I'm thinking you could simply accompany me on a few occasions, such as to the theater. I could show you the proper seats to purchase and what sort of refreshments to fetch for Lady Amanda during the intermission. And if we went riding in Hyde Park, I
