Juliana let out a weary sigh. She must have looked desolate indeed, because she felt a soft touch on her arm and looked over to find Emilia’s brows drawn together with concern.
“Won’t you tell me a little about your niece, Lady Juliana?”
Juliana, who was more than happy to have the distraction, gave Emilia a grateful smile. “It’s so kind of you to ask. Grace is the dearest little thing you can imagine. So bright, so inquisitive. Naughty occasionally, as all children are, but with a tender, loving heart. I’m certain you’ll meet her yourself someday. Fitzwilliam is very fond of her, and will want you to know her.”
“Oh, I should like that more than anything. Does she look like you?”
“Not at all. She’s got dark hair and big dark eyes. My late brother Jonathan wasn’t as fair as I am. Grace resembles him, but she looks much more like her mother than anyone else. She’ll grow up to be a beauty, just as Emma was.” Juliana smiled, but it was tinged with the sadness she always felt whenever she spoke of Emma and Jonathan.
Emilia saw it, and quickly changed the subject. “What sorts of things does she like to do? Does she ride yet?”
“She does, indeed. She has her own mare at Graystone Court, and she’s fond of riding her. She likes the outdoors, so we spend a good deal of our time tramping about the grounds, studying plants and flowers. She adores fairy tales and stories. I read her a new one every night at bedtime, and then I tell her a story about her parents. I don’t want her to forget them, you see.”
“No. No, of course not.” Emilia hesitated, then said, “I can tell you love her very much.”
“I do. More than anything.”
Emilia patted her hand. “Fitzwilliam tells me this man—this Lord Cowden—isn’t a fit guardian for Grace. Is he as bad as all that?”
“He’s worse than unfit. He’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Emilia echoed, her hand going to her throat. “How?”
Even thinking of Benedict made Juliana’s heart race with fear. “He’s the sort of man driven to extremes by bitterness and jealousy.”
“W—what sort of extremes?”
Juliana sighed. “For as long as I’ve known him, he’s never been satisfied with what he has. He’s an earl, but he holds his own title in contempt. His fortune is substantial, but no amount of money is ever enough for Lord Cowden. He’s always envied Fitzwilliam. Despised him, even, because Fitzwilliam outranks him, and his fortune is much greater than Lord Cowden’s.”
Emilia recoiled. “He sounds dreadful.”
“He is, but he’s very good at hiding his true nature. He’s a handsome man, and extremely clever and charming. He recently married, and his wife is very young, enamored of him, and a great heiress. Last night Fitzwilliam said he pitied Lord Cowden’s bride, and I can’t help but feel the same. I haven’t the faintest doubt he’s after her fortune, and doesn’t care a fig for her.”
Emilia looked horrified. “But how could your father appoint such a man as his granddaughter’s guardian? It doesn’t make sense!”
A day didn’t go by Juliana didn’t have the same thought, but as angry as she was at her father, she still found herself leaping to his defense. “My father isn’t well, and hasn’t been for some time. You must understand, Fitzwilliam and I grew up with Lord Cowden. His father was a dear friend of my father’s, and we’ve known the family all our lives. Lord Cowden can be very charming when he wishes to be. My father is utterly taken in by him.”
Emilia’s face had gone pale. “Your niece, Grace. She’s an heiress as well, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” Juliana’s tone was grim. “Grace’s money is reserved for her in a trust. Legally, her guardian can’t touch a penny of it, but a man like Lord Cowden…well, I’ve no idea how he’d contrive to get his hands on it, but I’m sure he’d try. He doesn’t care a whit for Grace, that much is certain. I don’t want him anywhere near her.”
“No, of course you don’t! Why, nothing could be worse!”
Juliana stared down into her teacup, her stomach churning. No, nothing could be worse than Grace being left at Lord Cowden’s mercy. Not even marriage to Logan Blair.
It was a timely reminder.
Juliana set her teacup aside and rose to her feet. She was wasting precious time, sitting here chatting when she could be trying to persuade Mr. Blair to marry her.
Or failing that, threatening him into it.
“Have you seen Mr. Blair today?” Juliana asked, taking care to keep her voice casual. “I, ah…I have a question to ask him.”
“Not since this morning, no. Perhaps Mrs. Selkirk knows where he is.” Emilia rose to pull the bell, but paused as she passed the window. “There he is. It’s looks like he’s going for a ride.”
Juliana hurried to Emilia’s side. She peered through the window into the stable yard below, and there was Logan Blair, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. He was wearing tight-fitting buckskin breeches, and his thighs looked like tree trunks.
Not thatshehad any use for his thighs, but really, he was the most imposing man she’d ever seen. Dreadful too, of course, but imposing. His sheer size alone…
