Juliette straightened and tilted her head. They were obviously talking about Florian Lowell, the physician Raphe had sent for when she’d been sick with the measles the previous year. News of his recent change in status had been the subject of great discussion at Huntley House the previous evening when Raphe had returned home with the announcement.
Juliette still wasn’t sure she understood how the title or the inheritance had come about, but it did look as though Florian would one day outrank his older brother, Mr. Lowell, who was set to become Viscount Armswell one day.
“Either way, I could easily get used to the idea of marrying Florian,” one of the women was saying. “He’s ever so handsome.”
Both women burst into giggles. Muted whispers followed and then the sound of the door opening and closing plunged the room into silence. Juliette looked at Vivien and grinned. “Well, I wish them luck. In truth I don’t believe I’ve ever met a man more unapproachable than Florian.”
“He does look rather starched,” Vivien muttered. She stood and adjusted her gown. “Mind you, I’ve only seen him once or twice, so I could be wrong.”
“No. I don’t believe you are. In fact, my impression of him is not much different. He’s an excellent physician who seems to take his work very seriously. One cannot fault him for that, though I do wonder what it might be like to see him smile.”
“Do you now?” Vivien asked with a smirk as the two returned to the hallway and started making their way back toward the ballroom.
Juliette nudged her friend with her shoulder. “Oh, you know what I mean, Viv!”
“All I know is that you wondering what it might be like to see him smile will likely pester you until you find a way to make it happen.” They entered the ballroom. “Of all the people I have ever known, none are as determined as you when you set your mind to something.”
“Well I—” A wave of chatter cut Juliette’s thought process short. She glanced around, aware of the agitation rolling through the ballroom like tremors threatening to toss all the guests up into the air. “What on earth is going on?”
“Look,” someone said as Juliette pushed her way between a few people, pulling Vivien along by her hand.
“There he is,” another voice muttered.
Shouldering her way past a cluster of women who craned their heads and stared toward the ballroom entrance, Juliette caught a sudden and very unexpected glimpse of the man she and Vivien had just been discussing.
Florian.
Her breath caught and her heart slammed hard against her chest. Because there he was and dear God if he didn’t look superb! Dressed in evening black, his copper streaked hair was neatly combed, though a single stray lock slashed roguishly across his brow. She’d never seen him like this before. The last time they’d met at a ball he’d been wearing an unremarkable suit cut from brown wool, if memory served. Now, however, he looked like the dukely title would fit him as well as the perfectly tailored jacket and trousers he wore. They seemed to accentuate his masculine physique in a way she’d never considered. It was almost as if his shoulders were broader, his build a little taller and...
Juliette blinked.No. She would not be like all the other silly girls swarming toward him and vying for his attention. He was just a man, after all, even if he was capable of saving the sick and putting a broken body back together again, which was admittedly something to be admired. But that didn’t mean she would ever be able to look past his stern demeanor or want anything from him besides medical advice and possibly friendship.
And yet, while she thought of all this, Florian’s head turned in her direction and his gaze locked with hers. Juliette’s pulse leapt and an unfamiliar flutter filled her stomach.
She sucked in a breath and deliberately turned away. Fresh air was what she needed, that was all. The stuffy heat in the ballroom had obviously affected her senses. So with this in mind, she maneuvered her way toward the French doors and slipped out onto the terrace, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool night air cleared her head.
Florian stared at the spot where Lady Juliette had just been. A strange sense of relief had driven its way through his limbs the moment he’d seen her. Because she’d been a welcome excuse, a means for him to escape the clamoring attention he’d faced when he’d entered the ballroom. But rather than come and greet him, she’d turned away, leaving him to his attackers.
“My daughter would love to dance the waltz with you,” an overeager mama insisted while shoving a dance card under his nose.
“Would she really?” He frowned at the woman who merely returned an expectant stare. “I do not waltz, Madam.”
His dry tone had little effect. “The cotillion then?”
Florian knew thathewould be labeled inconsiderate if he denied her request. So he reached for the pencil and reluctantly scribbled his name, which only encouraged others to be equally persistent.
“Would you like me to save you?” his brother, Henry, popularly known as Mr. Lowell, asked as he sidled up next to him.
Florian cut him a look. “I doubt even you can accomplish such a feat.”
“Nonsense. All you need is a little charm, which I happen to have in ample supply.” He waggled his brows which prompted a lady or two to snicker while Florian himself rolled his eyes. “Ladies,” Henry proceeded, “my brother has had such a trying day. Please take pity on him and allow him a moment to get his bearings. The Season has only just begun, after all, so there will be ample opportunity for all of you to secure the dances you want.”
Florian gave his brother a scowl. He wanted to nip this developing disaster in the bud before one of them started expecting more than he was prepared to deliver.
And yet, his brother’s words must have struck some feminine chord, because the sea of expectant faces waiting before him became one of sympathetic understanding. Miraculously, they even began dispersing, allowing Florian the freedom to move further into the ballroom. He turned to Henry. “I have to admit I underestimated your skills.”
Henry shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? It’s just a natural way I have with the ladies.”
Florian snorted and snatched a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
