Page 27 of Her Charming Duke (Regency Roses #3)

CHAPTER 27

J udith and Graham exited the box at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, where they had just enjoyed a performance of Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s The School for Scandal . The theater was a bustling hive of excitement, the air filled with the buzz of conversations as patrons discussed the play. The scent of perfume and cigars mingled with the faint aroma of greasepaint from the stage.

The streets outside the theater were lit by flickering gas lamps, casting a warm, golden glow on the cobblestone streets. Carriages lined up to collect the theatergoers, and the sounds of hoofbeats and murmured voices filled the night air.

As they walked toward Graham’s carriage, he kept close to her side. Judith could smell his cologne, a subtle blend of sandalwood and citrus, pleasant and refined. It was a scent that matched his personality perfectly—for he was always pleasant.

She had enjoyed the performance and his company, but as they strolled along, she couldn’t help but reflect on the past four weeks since they had begun courting. Everything had been very… pleasant. And that was the word that seemed to define her feelings for Graham. Pleasant.

Nothing more, nothing less. Her stomach did not flutter when she thought of him, she didn’t feverishly anticipate their reunions once they had parted, nor did she sit and imagine her future with him. Their courtship simply was what it was. A part of her life. No more or less exciting than her daily dressing routine or dinner.

“Did you enjoy the play?” Graham asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Yes, very much,” Judith replied with a smile. “The wit and humor were delightful, and the actors did a splendid job.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Sheridan’s plays always have a way of bringing out the best in both performers and audiences,” Graham commented. “I’ve always admired his work.”

Judith nodded in agreement, though her thoughts were elsewhere. As much as she tried to focus on the enjoyable evening, her mind kept wandering back to Aaron and the confusing emotions he stirred within her.

She had been determined to move on, to give her attention to Graham, but despite his many admirable qualities, she felt no spark, no excitement. Not the way she’d felt with Aaron before his unkind words had extinguished that spark. Well, mostly. There were still nights when she lay in her bed and looked out the window, wondering what he was doing.

She hadn’t seen him aside from by happenstance at an outing, but she’d not spoken to him if she could avoid it. A forced “good day,” or civil whiskers, that had been all. She’d noted the way he’d looked at her, sad and sullen. But why that was, she didn’t know.

She expected he’d soon leave again for faraway lands. Good. She did not want to continue running into him by chance. It made it much harder to forget the feelings she’d harbored for him.

“There is our carriage,” Graham said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He was about to open the door for her when he snapped his fingers. “Lady Judith, I’ve forgotten my gloves in the box. I would not normally bother retrieving them, but I bought them in Italy, and they are expensive.”

“Please, go get them. I can wait here. Or I can join you if you want,” she offered.

He shook his head. “I’ll just be a moment. Please wait here,” he said, before hurrying back to the theater entrance.

Judith watched him go, then turned to look around. The night was cool but not uncomfortable, and the open air was a welcome change from the stuffy confines of the carriage. She stepped onto the pavement to stretch her legs and take in the sights of Drury Lane.

The street was alive with people, the theater patrons mingling with street vendors and the occasional late-night reveler. She could hear the distant strains of music from a nearby tavern, adding to the lively atmosphere.

As she stood there, enjoying the scene, her gaze was drawn to a couple walking toward her. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized they were no couple at all but instead Lady Lundgren and her brother, Thomas Cornell. They were approaching her, and she felt a sudden urge to flee but found herself rooted to the spot.

Lady Lundgren’s eyes widened with recognition as they drew nearer. “I know you,” she muttered, stopping before her. “You were with Aaron at Almack’s,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Thomas Cornell, whose stern expression mirrored his sister’s disdain, added, “Lady Judith, isn’t it? Indeed, it is you.”

Judith’s heart pounded in her chest. She remembered all too well how Thomas had forced himself on her, and now here he was again, with his haughty sister.

“Yes, it is,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

She looked at the theater’s entrance, wishing Graham would hurry up and get out. She calculated how long it would take him to get back inside, past the stragglers and up the stairs to his box, then down again. He might be gone a little while longer.

Lady Lundgren looked her up and down, her lips curling into a faint, disapproving smile. “I hope you’re not still keeping company with that arrogant man.”

Judith felt a surge of anger and a desire to defend Aaron, but she caught herself. Why should she feel any loyalty toward a man who had kissed her and then dismissed her as nothing but trouble?

“I am here with Lord Leeds,” she stated, lifting her chin slightly. “We were just leaving the theater.”

“Good,” Lady Lundgren uttered with a nod of approval. “You shouldn’t waste yourself on an aloof, arrogant duke when you can have a decent earl.”

“Indeed, Lady Judith. I am glad you escaped the situation unscathed,” Thomas said.

“Not thanks to you,” Judith snapped.

He blinked at her as if wounded. “Anything I did, I did to protect you,” he said quickly while his sister looked at him with surprise.

Lady Lundgren didn’t know, did she? How did she think he ended up with a split lip that night?

“You attempted to ruin me because you did not like my being with Aaron—I would not call that helping,” Judith countered in as snippy a tone as she could muster.

“You did what?” Lady Lundgren gasped.

“You did not tell her? You forced yourself on me, and if not for Aaron, you would have ruined my reputation,” Judith hissed.

Thomas gulped before turning to his sister. “Nonsense,” he huffed. “Let us go.”

“You told me he attacked you at random,” Lady Lundgren said as her brother dragged her away from the scene.

Judith watched them walk away, a knot forming in her stomach. She felt dreadful, though she couldn’t quite understand why. Was it because of the disdain in Amelia’s voice? Or perhaps it was the reminder of how Aaron had treated her, dismissing her so easily after that kiss.

She was still lost in her thoughts when Graham returned, gloves in hand.

“Shall we?” he asked with a warm smile, extending his arm to her.

Judith forced a smile and took his arm, allowing him to help her into the carriage. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice something was amiss. As they settled into their seats, the carriage began to move, and Graham struck up a conversation about the play. Judith responded politely, but her mind was elsewhere.

The carriage ride back to her home was uneventful and filled with more pleasant conversation. Graham was charming and considerate as always, making her laugh with a few anecdotes about his childhood. But beneath the surface, Judith’s thoughts churned with confusion and doubt.

When they finally arrived at her home, Graham helped her out of the carriage.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Lady Judith,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I hope we can do this again soon. Perhaps on Sunday?”

“Yes, that would be lovely. Oliver will be back on Monday, by the way. I had a letter from him this morning,” she revealed, having forgotten all about it.

“Ah, very well.” Graham smiled. “Then I shall be sure to call on him. Now, I will collect you after church on Sunday, and we can go to Hyde Park with my sister and mother, yes?”

She’d met his mother and sister twice, and they were nice enough, though she was in no rush to see them again. Alas, she had no good reason to say no and thus nodded.

“Of course,” Judith replied with a smile, though her heart wasn’t in it.

She watched as the carriage drove away, then turned around and walked slowly toward her front door.

Inside, the house was quiet, the servants having retired for the night. Judith made her way to her chamber, feeling a strange mix of emotions. She was grateful for Graham’s attention and kindness, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. Her thoughts drifted back to her encounter with Lady Lundgren and her brother. She felt a pang of anger at how they had spoken about Aaron. But even more than that, she felt a sense of loss.

Judith crossed the room to her dressing table and sat down, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She could see the confusion in her eyes, the uncertainty about her feelings. Why did she still care for this man? Why did she miss him? It made no sense. She should be happy and focus on the future. As Lady Leeds, she could have a good life. She’d have childrenand a grand home to live in… Yet, it all felt empty.

Oliver would be back soon. Graham would want to see him, and no doubt he’d make an offer. He’d hinted at it for a few days now. Judith ought to be delighted, but she wasn’t. A part of her wanted to decline, to embrace Matilda’s offer to take her into the dower house, but she knew she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

Judith stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the quiet street below. The moon cast a soft glow over the cobblestones, and she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She knew she couldn’t rush this decision, that she needed to take her time and really think about what she wanted.

As she stood there, lost in thought, she made a silent promise to herself. She would make the best of this. If Graham proposed, she’d accept. She’d have a grand wedding at St. George’s of Hanover in London, she’d move into his beautiful, big house in Mayfair, and she’d have children. The sound of laughing children would fill their home, and she’d grow old at Graham’s side. They’d be grandparents. Maybe even great-grandparents. They’d go to dinners, balls, the opera. They might travel. It would be a good life. A pleasant life.

“Oh!” she gasped when she felt wetness roll down her cheeks. Had she been crying?

I cry when imagining the ideal life. What is wrong with me?

But of course, she knew what was wrong. She might be imagining the perfect life, but it wasn’t with the man she had fallen in love with.

Curse that Aaron Fitzwilliam, for he’d put a spell on her heart, one she found impossible to break—but one she knew she had to break anyhow, or else her life, picture perfect as it might be, would be miserable indeed.