morning.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“I am bidding a lady friend goodbye. An appropriate gift is in order, I believe.”
Juliana blinked. “And what do you require of me, exactly, milord?”
The earl arched a brow, and she silently winced.
“To procure that gift.”
“And what should I get?”
The earl scowled. “That is why it is your task, Julian.”
Valets' duties extended beyond what she understood. Clearly, she was expected to know his preferences for gifts for his lady loves.
“I will make my way to the village as soon as possible, my lord.”
“There is a local jeweler. He is exceptionally good and designs pieces for some of the top London stores. Mr. Marcus Nelson.”
“Yes, my lord.” Julianna bowed and quickly closed the door behind her.
Returning below stairs, she did her best to avoid a scowling Thomas and a flirtatious Mary. Juliana went into the servants’ parlor where the cook had laid out breakfast on a side table. She quickly filled her plate with eggs, strips of bacon, and round yellow muffins that smelled like cinnamon.
She tried her best not to talk to any of the other servants and kept her head down while she ate. It was not an easy task to keep her voice low and husky. The less she spoke, the better to maintain her ruse. Laughter and chatter swirled around her as the staff of over twenty-five servants ate. A few aimed stares at her, but no one made the effort to involve her in their conversation.
Juliana was grateful for it, yet even as she listened to them, loneliness pierced her. The housekeeper, Mrs. McCauley, was like a mother hen, asking about their families and always steering the conversation to ensure it remained pleasant and jovial.
Juliana felt the last time her family had indulged in such warm happiness was when papa had been alive. Dinner was always informal with papa. He laughed and lived boisterously, having never given many thoughts to propriety. It wasn’t like that it the Viscount’s home at all. And while Juliana hadn’t hated it, there had been far less laughter and joy at the table.
Shrugging aside the memories that only created this deep ache in her heart, she finished her breakfast. Soon she would have to procure a gift for the earl’s mistress. No, his ex-mistress, that relationship would cease to exist. She wouldn’t examine too much why the notion cheered her, and Juliana finished her meal with a smile in her heart and on her lips.
Almost four hours later, Juliana hopped down from the earl’s carriage and walked up the gravel line driveway to the side door. There was another carriage in the driveway, and the horses attached were being led by the stable lad to the stable block.
Gripping the parcel, she hurried inside and made her way down the hallway to the earl’s study. Surely he would like to see the gifts she had procured on his behalf right away. She knocked on his door, and a very aggrieved voice bid her enter. Twisting the knob, Juliana opened the door and faltered.
An incredibly beautiful lady draped in a yellow gown reposed on the chaise longue, her position designed to tempt any man to admire her charms. The gown was expensive and more suited for an evening occasion, with the new lace-edged three quarter length sleeves, leaving her shoulders bared. The front of her skirt revealed a much ruffled and embroidered golden silk. Her waist had clearly been tightly corseted as she was breathing fast and shallow. Her décolletage was indecently lowered, and with a gasp, Juliana swore she saw the outline of the lady’s nipples.
She quickly averted her gaze to see the earl looking at her. His mouth twitched, and with a jolt of discomfiture, she realized he was amused, clearly at her. And of course, any red-blooded male would be ogling at the delightful display.
“Pardon me for interrupting my lord. I did not know you were occupied.”
“You interrupt nothing. Lady Wimpole was just about to leave.”
At that announcement, the lady started to cry prettily in her handkerchief.
For a moment, the earl looked entirely bemused.
“My good lad, do you have the gift?”
The lady perked up at that, delicately dabbing her eyes. “Oh, Wentworth!” she said breathlessly. “No gift will soothe my heart. It is not pretty baubles I want, but you!”
Juliana walked over and handed him the slim box wrapped in pastel-colored paper and ribbons.
“Sophia, you must stop crying,” the earl said, clearly exasperated.
“My darling, my nerves have been overset since I got your note,” she dramatically cried, pressing