Page 20 of His Unforgettable Bride (Bride Ships: New Voyages #4)

Twenty

Be careful, unless you wish your name coupled

with his, how you dance too often with

the same gentleman.

N obody could have predicted that Juliet would mingle with high society at a fancy party, especially not her, even if she only worked at the tearoom’s grand opening.

But everyone who resided under the sisters’ roof had a job tonight. Tabitha and Livy were greeting the guests. Gray was busy assisting Icala with the food, and Cy was showing the new arrivals where to hang their overcoats and hats in the cloak area in the back corner. They were in agreement, determined to meet each guest’s needs and whims.

Juliet admired the crocheted snowflakes decorating the pink walls as she repeated her serving instructions in her head. Add the cool cream to the cup before the hot tea to avoid cracking the porcelain. Pour tea from the right, never the left. Always ask if the guest desires a lemon slice. And so on.

“More tea?” She stopped at a table of four ladies, all dressed in perhaps their Sunday best. A long-tapered candle served as the centerpiece atop a lace-trimmed tablecloth.

“Yes, please.” A young woman approximately Juliet’s age wore a light lavender satin wrap draped over her shoulders, glistening in the candlelight. Would she and her friends become regular customers in the tearoom? Juliet hoped so.

Tabitha approached to stand beside Juliet. A thin weave of gold thread trimmed her belted sage green dress at the high collar, cuffs, and hemline that swept the floorboards. “I’m uncertain if you’ve all met Juliet.” She made the introductions, and everyone smiled like a person might expect. “She’s not our niece or daughter, but that’s how we view her.”

Much like Livy’s flattering comment after church a few weeks ago, the surprising praise warmed Juliet’s heart. The sisters viewed her like family, like a niece, even a daughter. How was that possible?

She hadn’t been part of a family in a very long time, and the idea of being in this particular one was more than she could have anticipated or imagined.

Was this her goal—the dream she’d been too afraid to voice to Livy on the first day she arrived in Everly—that she’d have a home again and a family one day? Was it too much to hope that this place, these people, this life could really be hers?

A longing swelled in her chest, one she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years, one she’d stuffed deep. The desire to belong.

She hadn’t belonged anywhere or with anyone since her grandfather’s death. And she’d given up hope that she ever would. She’d failed to fully fit in wherever she’d lived since then—at the orphanage, with Molly, even with the Firths. What made her think she could belong here? In this lovely place?

Her hand shook, and she struggled not to spill what remained in her teapot, forcing herself to settle the container with two hands.

She finished serving the ladies, excused herself, and asked a fellow servant to offer a plate of sandwiches to the foursome. Then she wove around scattered tables to reach the sideboard in the bustling tearoom. Still trembly, she carefully lowered the empty teapot to the shelf built into the wall. The scents of tart lemon and smoky salmon eked a growl from her stomach, though she’d have to wait until later to sneak into the back room for samples.

The smile she’d pinned on her lips earlier in the evening had seldom faltered, but it slid away now. She took several deep breaths and tried to silence the qualms that were swirling inside, doubts that shouted she wasn’t good enough to belong anywhere. That no one wanted her, and that she’d end up disappointed again. She refused to think about all of that now. Not on this special evening for Tabitha and Livy. She had to focus on them.

Juliet paused to steal an extended peek at the room. She’d never seen Tabitha and Livy beam brighter than while hosting the open house. So far, everything was streaming perfectly.

A hired violinist performed in the corner, and chatter flowed in the room along with the music. Women in full-skirted dresses in every hue conversed with men in evening wear or military uniforms. The new cast-iron stove and fireplace pumped warmth into the space, and multiple lanterns added the perfect lighting. According to Cy, no expense was spared.

Gray was no longer helping Icala with the food. She didn’t see him anywhere in the room. Where had he gone?

They hadn’t conversed as often over the past week since the final preparations for the tearoom had taken so much time and energy. They’d even worked into the evenings instead of sitting together in the drawing room like before.

If completely honest, she missed him. She missed their bantering, their conversations, and the games. And she missed not talking to him more deeply about how he was doing, especially since learning he wasn’t Alex. Now that he’d had the past week to think about the startling news, how did he feel?

Maybe later, during the dancing, she’d spend time with him and learn the answer. How many dances would they share tonight? Was a dozen too many to hope for? Dare she forget her worries for one night and enjoy the celebration? Whether she embraced the evening or not, her concerns would undoubtedly greet her in the morning.

Tabitha approached as part of her rounds. “You look pensive.”

“Not at all, only full of thoughts. Your night is a success.”

“Indeed. Everyone appears sated for now. In about ten minutes, I’d like you to change out of your uniform while the room is prepared for dancing. Earlier, Livy and I left a surprise on your bed.”

Juliet blinked, her mind whirring. The sisters hadn’t purchased her a new dancing gown, had they? No. For heaven’s sake, they weren’t mind readers and couldn’t have guessed how much she desired something special for the dance. “Thank you kindly.”

“Our pleasure.” Tabitha nodded before turning and speaking to guests as she worked her way to her post near the front door.

The next several minutes buzzed past before Juliet returned to the empty house and raced up the back stairs. She burst into her bedroom and halted abruptly. Draped over her bed was a crimson tarlatan dress with a double skirt, the upper one looped up with delicate silver rosettes and velvet trim. A wide, almost off-the-shoulder neckline and capped sleeves added flair to the elegant gown.

Filled with awe, she approached the bed to ensure her imagination hadn’t stirred up the image. Her fingers explored the dress. Silky, soft fabric. Delicate, dainty trim. Perfect in every way. A new crinoline rested beside the garment and a pair of dyed matching satin slippers waited on the carpet next to the bed.

How had the sisters gone from strangers to almost family, or even fairy godmothers, in such a short time? Nobody had ever extended such kindness, except perhaps, her flesh and blood family long ago.

She drew an excited breath. Maybe all her fears about belonging again were unfounded and unnecessary. Possibly, she didn’t have to worry about being rejected again, left alone, or pushed aside. Maybe she really could believe everything would work out fine.

Was it possible to have more than friendship with Gray one day? Of course, life remained uncertain, even more so now that they had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. But that kiss had meant something, and neither of them could deny the attraction growing between them.

She wiggled out of her black uniform and into a pair of silk stockings and the dome-shaped, caged crinoline. With care, she gently donned the gown, then shuffled the dress into place with a shake of her hips. Satisfied, she slipped on the dainty slippers.

Almost ready to return to the celebration, she gazed into the full-length mirror, her long hair shimmering in the lantern light. The lonely orphan girl with a broken heart was gone. In her place stood a lady with dear, generous friends. “I wish you could see me now, Grandfather,” she whispered.

Blinking back a tear, she exited her room and descended the staircase at a stately pace. As she stepped out into the crisp evening air, the tinkling music from the tearoom beckoned to her. She strolled over the cobblestone path lined with lanterns and past the male guests clustered under the trees to smoke and wag tongues.

Bells mewed and threaded between her slippers, begging for attention. Although chilly without a shawl, Juliet bent and scratched the cat’s head. “As much as I would love to pick you up, little kitty, not tonight. I don’t want cat hair marring my dress. But I promise to cuddle you twice tomorrow.”

As she straightened, she glimpsed Reverend Channing sidling toward her through the nearby men. The glow of lanterns glinted off his tall black hat and revealed the eagerness on his face. After she’d started focusing during his Sunday sermons, she’d spotted stirring points each week. Next time he asked about her favorite part of his message, she’d offer a ready answer.

He halted in front of her with a wide smile. “Please allow me to tell you how stunning you look this evening, Miss Dash.”

“Thank you, Reverend. However, good manners prevent me from pointing out that it’s difficult to see clearly in this light.”

“And yet the darkness cannot hide your beauty.”

Oh my goodness. The reverend was a charmer too. She ought to be flattered, even flustered by his compliment, but she felt none of the same fluttering that had happened with Gray’s compliments.

“May I escort you to the festivities to avoid stumbling?” He extended his elbow to escort her.

She hesitated.

She’d learned he was a widower and childless. By all accounts, he was also a decent, God-fearing man. Once upon a time, she would have been thrilled to have a fellow like him interested in her, someone unattainable.

But he wasn’t Gray…

It wouldn’t be fair to the reverend—or anyone else, for that matter—to lead him on when the truth was that she wanted to spend the entire evening with only one man, and it wasn’t the fellow in front of her.

“Thank you, Reverend. However?—”

“Juliet, there you are.” Gray’s voice carried from behind her.

She turned to watch him draw closer. He’d donned a dark suit, and his white shirt and cravat added an elegant touch. Never had she seen clothing fit a man as it did now, the sole reason her stomach wildly spun. Of course, the lighting was poor, but she stood firm in her opinion.

“You promised me the first dance, if I recall.”

Had she promised him such a thing? She didn’t remember doing so. Still, she wouldn’t mind opening the evening in his solid arms and ending it there.

Juliet nodded to the reverend. “I will see you inside.”

“Most assuredly, you will.” He tipped his hat at Gray, then headed back toward the gathering of men under the trees.

Juliet looped her arm with the dashing man at her side, alone with him on the pathway.

He bent closer, and the fresh scent of soap with cinnamon filled the crisp air. “Finally, the man of the cloth makes his move.”

“What move? All Reverend Channing did was ask me to dance.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Are you angling for a compliment?”

Gray laughed and squeezed her fingers before growing serious. “Speaking of compliments, you are as pretty and elegant as a princess tonight.”

“Really? Have you seen a princess before?”

“Not that I recall, but anything is possible.”

Indeed, more flattery. Yet Gray’s praise touched her center, and his soulful eyes called to her like a beacon in a blizzard. “And you are very, very elegant yourself. Your jacket isn’t two sizes too big, and your britches cover your ankles.”

Gray’s chest rose and fell twice before he spoke. “If you look at me in the same fashion on the dance floor, I may forget every move of the dance and turn into a bumbling idiot.”

Her brow arched. “And incur the sisters’ wrath?”

“An excellent point. We could never cause a scandal at the grand opening.”

Of course, they would never hurt or embarrass the sisters. Not in a dozen decades. Which was why she’d worried all week about Ruby’s return. Yes, the sisters, Gray, and the constable were all aware of Ruby’s threats. But that didn’t mean anything. Ruby could still stir up problems. Hopefully, her old roommate’s absence meant she’d finally accepted that Juliet didn’t have the Firths’ stolen jewels and moved on to other endeavors, whatever they might be.

Arm in arm, Gray led her toward the tearoom door and inside. The crowd from earlier had diminished by half. Maybe thirty people remained, and the slimmed-down number suited her fine. In her opinion, the fewer bell-shaped skirts to maneuver while dancing, the better.

The long sideboard now displayed another round of refreshments for guests to help themselves as they mingled. The bright lighting from the previously scattered lanterns had dimmed, adding an air of romance to the setting.

At the sight of Juliet, Livy rushed forward, dragging Cy. Her shiny pink gown matched the walls, and her surplus of white feather adornments reminded Juliet of a downy swan.

“You are dazzling.” Livy puffed Juliet’s sleeves. “Against my instincts, I allowed Tabitha to choose your gown. Thankfully, she picked wisely.”

Heavens, if Livy had selected her dress, it might resemble the fancy French cream puffs once served at the Firth mansion. But Livy was Livy, and Juliet had grown to appreciate her style. All the same, she had no intention of copying it.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Juliet said. “I owe you a tremendous amount, and I fear I’ll never be able to repay you in full.”

Livy’s hand had moved to Juliet’s arm, which she patted. “That’s unnecessary. You’re a fine young lady, and I’m proud of you. And you are very dapper tonight, Gray.”

Gray bowed with a regal flourish. “You are too kind, my lady. You and Cy both look charming, as well.”

Cy smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “A first for me, but not Livy, who is always divine. Do you like my arm sling tonight?”

Juliet examined the white cloth harnessing his injured arm. Someone, and no doubt Livy, had embroidered red hearts near his wiggling fingers. “I do. I adore it.”

The pianist stroked the ivory keys, introducing a dance. The violinist and the cello player were primed to join in on the tune. After a moment, Livy smiled and grabbed Cy’s unhampered arm. “Shall we dance, Mr. Kelly? I fear our guests are bashful.”

“Dance? Even in my current state?”

“I’m quite certain we’ll manage.” Livy led him toward the room’s center, drawing every eye in their direction. Attendees fringed the open area, talking amongst themselves. Others had congregated on chairs lined up against the back wall.

Some guests might have never learned to dance, like Juliet, not long ago. After a half dozen lessons, she still fumbled with several steps. But what if she and Gray joined Livy and Cy? If she botched her movements once or twice, the guests might realize perfection wasn’t expected or required. She turned toward Gray, ready to ask him to dance as Livy had done with her partner.

“May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?” Gray held out a hand to her. She could admit her bias, but he was the most handsome man in the room. And she’d dare anyone to disagree with her.

“My pleasure, good sir.” She offered her best curtsy, low and exaggerated. Seconds later, a lively polka had her focusing on the quick steps. As she hoped, others soon joined in on the merriment, and happy laughter accompanied the music.

The jaunty song ended, and a romantic waltz took its place. Gray leaned forward. “Please dance one more number with me. Then I shall allow the eager swains to woo you.”

Juliet’s breath quivered. Dare she dance with him twice in a row? What if this was the night’s only waltz, and they would never have another chance? “Perhaps I don’t want to dance with any eager swains but you.”

Dark, swirling emotion filled his eyes before he touched her hip and took her hand. It was an emotion she couldn’t read or understand. Nonetheless, her insides trembled. After tripping over him in the woods, she’d kept falling for his charm every day since. And now, was she finally falling in love?

Her pulse skipped to a flourishing beat, but it was time to calm down. Better yet, they should have done it two minutes ago.

She reluctantly focused on anything and anyone but him. Livy and Cy had disappeared from the room. Tabitha stood near the door, nodding to the beat. Icala was transferring an empty dessert platter to the rear workroom.

As the song tapered to a halt, Gray seemed reluctant to release his hold on her as his eyes held hers captive. “Would you care for a breath of fresh air?”

Breath of fresh air? Or did he seek something more? Like a kiss? And was that what she wanted, too?