"I wouldn't know where to take Lady Amanda in Vauxhall Gardens," he told her, rolling his sleeves up a little more. "Perhaps you should come with me instead the first time, to show me the good places."
"I don't think—" Juliana's gaze was fastened on his arms. It wandered up to his open shirt. "The gardens are closed on Sundays. Shall we make it tomorrow night?"
"Parliament will be in session—"
"If you want a child, James," she said, finally looking him in the face, "you need to put courting ladies before the House of Lords."
Perhaps he should. Since he wasn't making any progress with his bill, perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to make progress with Juliana his priority. For a day, at least. Or a night.
"Very well," he said.
"Good." She glanced at his arms again, which he found somewhat encouraging. "I must get home before the guests arrive for my sewing party."
He nodded and started from the room. "I'll come by for you at seven o'clock Monday."
"I'll see that Aunt Frances is ready," she said as they walked through the library.
Tempting Juliana was difficult even without an audience. The last thing he wanted was her chaperone hovering nearby. "Do you suppose Lord Malmsey would like to accompany your aunt?"
"I'm sure he would." She went lightly down the stairs, her renewed good cheer lifting James's heart. She was such a delight. A treasure. "That's a wonderful idea," she said.
Yes, it was. Lord Malmsey seemed quite enamored with Lady Frances, which meant he'd have an eye to getting her alone, which in turn would leave James alone with Juliana. The plan was sounding better and better.
"Until tomorrow, then," he said. His butler opened the front door, revealing Griffin outside pacing around the Cainewood carriage.
"Until tomorrow," Juliana echoed, starting toward her brother. "Wait," she said, turning back. "I forgot to ask if you'd like me to volunteer this week at the Institute."
She would come again without her aunt, James thought. If he failed to kiss her at Vauxhall, maybe he could get her alone in one of the treatment rooms. "Absolutely," he told her with a smile. "How about Friday?"
"Friday will be fine." Returning his smile, she headed toward the carriage.
The butler shut the door behind her, but not before James heard Griffin's impatient huff. "Why in blazes did it take you so long to ask the man one simple question?"
TWENTY-NINE
DARK WAS falling.
Juliana had arrived at Vauxhall Gardens with James, Aunt Frances, and Lord Malmsey at about eight o'clock Monday night, while the sun was still gracing the summer sky. It was a fine July evening, perhaps a bit chillier than usual, but without the slightest hint of rain. The pleasure gardens had proved as lovely as she'd hoped, spacious and laid out in delightful walks, bordered with high hedges and towering trees, and paved with gravel that crunched beneath their shoes.
For the first half hour they'd strolled, finding something charming around every corner. Pavilions, grottoes, temples and cascades, porticos, colonnades and rotundas. Here was a striking pillar, there a wonderful statue, in the distance a series of large, picturesque murals. Throngs of visitors promenaded, showing off their finest clothing, their rowdy laughter and whispered endearments filling the night air.
Now, with the sun sinking low, they were seated at a table for four by the building that housed the orchestra, a structure that struck Juliana as Moorish or perhaps Gothic—she couldn't decide which, but regardless, it was magnificent. Its second story was open in the front so the musicians were visible inside.
While they listened to a pleasing variety of popular songs intermixed with serious compositions, they enjoyed a light supper of cold meats and bread and cheese accompanied by French claret. Aunt Frances was astounded at the exorbitant cost of the diminutive portions.
"My word," she said disapprovingly, "this Vauxhall ham is sliced so thin one could read a newspaper through it!"
Lord Malmsey laughed and motioned to a serving girl to order more. "Would you like some cheesecake, too, my dear?"
"It cannot be as good as Juliana's," James said, shooting her a warm smile.
So he'd eaten her Richmond Maids of Honour and enjoyed them. Feeling inordinately pleased about that, Juliana smiled back.
As the musicians played the last notes of a piece composed by Handel, a piercing whistle split the night. "What's that?" she asked.
Lord Malmsey cocked his balding head. "Have you never been here before, Lady Juliana?"
She was about to tell him she hadn't, but then she remembered James didn't know that. "Not at night," she said instead.
But a part of her wondered why she'd accepted James's invitation to show him around, knowing he should be escorting Amanda tonight. The two of them needed to spend more time together if he was to decide to marry her before her planned wedding in twelve days' time.
"Just watch, then," Lord Malmsey said.
And she stopped musing, sucking in a breath as a thousand oil lamps came to life, lit by myriad servants touching matches to their wicks in the same instant. The effect was nothing short of sensational, bathing the gardens in a warm light that must have been visible for miles around.
"Enchanting!" Aunt Frances exclaimed.
Lord Malmsey cocked his head again. "Have you never been here at night, either?"
"I've never been here at all," Frances said.
Shy, retiring Aunt Frances had missed out on a lot, Juliana thought as they finished their supper, but that was about to change. She'd never been happier to see one of her projects prove a success.
"Shall we walk again?" Lord Malmsey asked, rising from the table. "The gardens feel like a different place among the lanterns."
"A lovely idea." Frances rose, too, and pulled on her gloves.
Juliana reached for her own but found her lap empty. "Where are my gloves?" She was sure she'd placed them there when she took them off for supper—it was a lifelong habit, after all. She checked the ground on either side
