Julia fought to keep every iota of that smile on her face as she realised that four pairs of eyes were trained, not on them as a couple, but on Will. The earl, Lord Fallon, had that focused look she had learned to recognise in men who were on their mettle, even spoiling for a fight. The earl was on tenterhooks to see how Will reacted to Miss Fletcher, and how she behaved in her turn. Lord and Lady Adamson, she saw in an instant, were on edge, no doubt catching the tension emanating from Lord Fallon in the presence of the man who should have been their son-in-law by now.
And Miss Fletcher? Julia had met her several times before Will’s return and knew her a little, but not well enough to sense whether her instinctive dislike was simple prejudice because Caroline had not fought to stay with Will when he had thought himself to be dying, or whether she would have found her uncongenial under any circumstances.
There was an infinitesimal pause, then Will stepped forwards to greet their guests and Julia lost the ability to detect anything but conventional social greetings and the exclamations of pleasure at Will’s safe return.
Will was not looking at Caroline. Caroline was carefully not looking at Will and Lord Fallon was watching both of them like a hawk. Julia stepped between the two men. ‘I am so pleased you could come, Lord Fallon. Will you be staying long at Heathfield Hall?’ She turned a little as she spoke and he had, out of simple politeness, to follow her.
‘For several weeks, Lady Dereham. We are making wedding preparations, as you know, and that takes a great deal of planning.’
He began to prose on about the guest list. Julia fixed a smile on her lips. At least she had succeeded in creating space for Caroline’s parents to talk to Will and, as she suspected, there was long acquaintance and considerable liking between them.
‘Mr and Mrs Pendleton. Mrs Hadfield, Mr Hadfield.’
Delia, unconsciously doing the tactful thing, swooped on Miss Fletcher and began to interrogate her about her trousseau. Henry, who had met Lord Fallon on the hunting field, came up with a question about a horse and, with a sigh of relief at the thought of another awkward confrontation averted, Julia was able to slip away and greet the vicar and his wife.
The big salon filled up quickly and Julia relaxed. Will had hardly so much as glanced in Caroline’s direction and both he and Lord Fallon appeared to have decided there was no need to bristle at each other. Will had even spoken civilly to Henry and the younger man had relaxed from an all-too-obvious tension into his usual cheerful self.
* * *
By the time she walked through to the dining room with the Marquess of Tranton, Julia realised that she was actually enjoying herself.
‘I hear that you are expecting a positive herd of horses shortly,’ the marquess remarked as the soup was served.
‘Indeed, yes. Lord Dereham purchased some very fine animals while he was in Spain and North Africa. We have had to extend the stables to accommodate them all. I will let you know when they arrive, if you are interested, my lord.’
‘That would be a pleasure, thank you.’ He passed her the pepper, then remarked, ‘My steward tells me that you have been managing the estate here in Dereham’s absence with remarkable success.’
‘It is kind of him to say so.’ The Tranton farms were famous—praise from that quarter was praise indeed.
Julia had been having qualms about entertaining a marquess and what topics of conversation might interest him. She had not been expecting him to show so much approving interest in her agricultural endeavours and the meal seemed to fly past in a highly satisfactory sequence of courses and a lively buzz of conversation.
* * *
Julia’s other big fear had been that she would forget to rise and take the ladies out at the appropriate moment, but even that went smoothly without Delia having to shoot dagger-glances down the table to remind her. Will caught her eye and nodded and she felt the warmth of his approval.
The ladies settled in the salon to gossip and await the tea tray. Julia relaxed, then tensed in surprise as Caroline Fletcher settled beside her.
‘I was amazed that Lord Tranton should have chosen to talk so much about farming.’ She gave an artistic shudder. ‘Why, he hardly spoke of anything else and I am sure he has all the Court gossip at his fingertips. You must have hoped to forget such tiresome things as cows and corn at dinner, Lady Dereham.’
‘Not at all, Miss Fletcher. I was flattered by his interest. He is very knowledgeable.’
‘I have never understood why you had to be involved with it at all. Could you not have hired a man instead of labouring over something so...unfeminine?’
‘If I was both ignorant, and idle,’ Julia riposted with a smile, ‘I would have done. As it happened I knew what I was doing and I find it of great interest. Beside which, I considered it my duty to look after King’s Acre until Lord Dereham returned.’
‘You expected this miracle cure, then?’ Caroline enquired, making no effort to hide her scepticism.
‘I never gave up hope.’
To anyone knowing the history it would seem an implied criticism and Caroline certainly took it as one. Her eyes widened and her lips tightened as the colour slashed across her cheekbones. ‘You must be congratulated upon having no imagination, Lady Dereham,’ she riposted. ‘To marry under the circumstances must have required the most ruthless control of whatever sensibility you possess.’ Her smile indicated that she thought Julia had none.
‘My sensibility goes with refined taste in all matters, I believe,’ Caroline continued with staggering complacency. ‘I cannot tell you what a pleasure it was to be in London the past few weeks. One may find the very best shops there.’ Her gaze slid over the bodice and sleeves of Julia’s gown. ‘I could not bear to have to rely on provincial dressmakers. Do let me know if there is anything I may purchase for you when I return, dear Lady Dereham. Skin creams, for example.’
‘That is so kind of you,’ Julia said warmly. ‘I am sure you must have experience of a very wide range of cosmetic aids. Do excuse me, there is something I have remembered I need to tell Mrs Frazer.’
If she did not remove herself she was going to say something she would regret. Anyone would think that she was some sort of threat to Caroline’s position as reigning local beauty.
The men entered the room as she was crossing it. Mrs Frazer was deep in conversation with Lady Tranton but, having told Caroline she intended to speak with her, she could hardly walk away. Julia sat down beside them and sought some composure for Caroline’s little barbs were beginning to get under her skin. Will had married her for her knowledge of estate management—he had never expected to have to live with her or for her to be the mother of his children. Did he now see her as some sort of rural bumpkin he was ashamed to come home to?
Julia swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. Is that why Will had seemed mysteriously remote since the incident in the milking parlour? He had been swept into thoroughly unseemly passion—was he now regretting it and despising her for her enjoyment? Had she seemed like nothing but an ill-bred romp foolish enough not to be able to manage Henry’s youthful affections? Was his generosity with clothes and jewels an attempt to make her more comme il fait?
Imagination, just foolish imagination, she told herself and looked around for Will. There was no sign of him, or of Caroline Fletcher.
The room was full now and conversation was lively and general. It was doubtful that anyone had noticed who was missing, but that could not last for long. Instinct told her it was not coincidence and that she had to get one or other of them back into the salon as soon as possible.
What were they doing? No, don’t think about it, just find them. Julia slipped out of the room and began to search. There were servants clearing in the dining room, the breakfast parlour was empty, the hall and billiards room were quiet.
Please not the bedrooms. The thought was so strong