"Bloody hell," he gritted out and leapt off of Juliana. Muttering obscenities the likes of which she'd never heard, he stalked to the new Hepplewhite wardrobe and slammed the door open. And yanked out a red silk dressing gown. And shrugged into it so violently she feared he might rip it.
"James?" His mother knocked on the door.
"I'm coming, Mother."
Juliana had enjoyed seeing him without the dressing gown much more than with it. Looking furious, he tied the belt and tied it again, and knotted it with a jerk, and went to the door and opened it just enough to slip through—so his mother wouldn't see her inside, thank heavens—and shut it behind him.
And then Juliana lay there on the red damask, shaking, listening to their conversation.
"Oh, James, I thought I heard you. How are you feeling, dear?"
"Tired. I was sleeping."
"Poor dear." There was a pause, during which Juliana imagined Lady Stafford ruffling James's hair, even though he was much too old to have his hair ruffled. "I'm so sorry about everything that's happened. I so wanted you to marry Juliana."
"I know." She heard James sigh. "It may still happen."
"What do you mean?" Lady Stafford sounded very excited. "What do you mean, it may still happen?"
"I'm very tired, Mother, and I don't want to explain it now. Can we talk about this in the morning? How are you feeling?"
"Better. Much better. I think I'll be able to attend your wedding tomorrow."
"I'm hoping there won't be a wedding." His voice was getting fainter. "Let me take you back to bed, Mother. We'll talk in the morning."
"I really don't want to wait until morning to hear this, James," Juliana heard very faintly.
And then she heard nothing. He must have been walking his mother back to bed. It took him a very long time to return, and at first Juliana figured that was because it was a very long corridor, but when he took even longer, she figured he was probably explaining everything to his mother. Lady Stafford was rather persistent, after all. Most mothers were. Juliana figured she'd probably be a rather persistent mother herself. If she ever got to be a mother.
Dear heavens, what if everything didn't work out?
At last James hurried back into the room and shut the door behind him. His fingers went to the knot in his belt.
She sat up on the edge of the bed, pushing her skirts down and pulling her bodice back up. "What are you doing?"
"Getting out of this damned dressing gown." He seemed to be having trouble. Apparently he'd knotted the belt too tightly when he'd jerked it. "Getting back to what we were doing."
"We cannot do it, James."
"What?" He looked up, his fingers still working the knot. Or rather, not working it. It didn't look like it was going to budge. "Whyever would you say that? I realize you've probably cooled off some while I was talking to my mother, but I'll soon have you warm again, sweetheart. I'll have you moaning in no time—"
"What if everything doesn't work out?"
"What do you mean, what if everything doesn't work out?"
"I heard you, James. I heard you tell your mother it may still happen. I heard you tell her you're hoping there won't be a wedding tomorrow."
His fingers slipped on the knot, but he bent his head and resumed fighting with it. "I was just trying to get her back to bed. I didn't want to stop and explain everything. I didn't want to have a discussion. I wanted to get back to you."
"We cannot go back to doing that. What if everything doesn't work out? We cannot make love if you're going to marry Amanda."
He stopped working the knot and looked at her. "I'm not going to marry Lady Amanda. You read Castleton's note. Everyone is in agreement."
"Her father isn't."
"He isn't even her father!"
"That doesn't signify. He's legally her guardian. He might have another objection."
James plopped to sit on the bed beside her. "What could he possibly come up with now? Who could he possibly claim slept with whom in order to make Lady Amanda and Castleton's marriage impossible?"
"I don't know. All I know is we all thought he couldn't possibly have a valid objection before, and it turned out he did. So he could have another objection. Or someone else could have an objection. We don't know, James." She rubbed his back through the red silk, thinking he felt very tense and looked very frustrated. Well, she was frustrated, too, but that didn't change anything. "We're going to have to wait. It won't kill us. It won't be long."
"Damn right it won't be long. As soon as we straighten everything out, we'll be wed tomorrow. I was planning to get married tomorrow, anyway."
Despite her frustration, despite everything, she couldn't stop a soft laugh from escaping her throat. "Don't be ridiculous. We cannot get married tomorrow."
"Why not? It was ridiculously simple to get the special license to wed Lady Amanda—all it took was money. I can get another license with your name on it tomorrow with no trouble."
"We need more than a license, James. I need a wedding dress. And we have to deal with the whole mess regarding Amanda's parentage tomorrow, and I have to deliver the baby clothes. The Governors are expecting me at the Foundling Hospital tomorrow afternoon, with two hundred and forty items."
Thank heavens they were finished. The women James had hired had only needed to make twelve more. Everything was going to work out.
She hoped.
"All right," he said dourly. "We'll get married the Saturday after that. Can I kiss you now?"
"Yes, you can kiss me. And then we need to go let Amanda know what's happening."
He kissed her and he kissed her again, and all the while, all the time she had her arms around his neck and was kissing him, she was crossing her fingers and hoping everything would work out.
FIFTY
AND SO IT WAS that James arrived at
