writhing beneath him with both legs wrapped around his waist. Especially not then.
But his friend would not give up. “You need only use your instincts, Dare.”
That was the trouble. He couldn’t trust his instincts, for they had betrayed him once before. He was terrified they would do so again. Lucian was certainly right; his judgment of Julienne was clouded by the past. And his fierce urgency to claim her again only compounded the problem.
Lucian was right on another point, Dare knew. Whatever his feelings for her, he couldn’t let them interfere with his task. Too much was at stake. And if he expected his doubts regarding Julienne to be believed, he would need to show proof of her guilt. More critically, he needed to prove it to himself. One way or another, he needed to
know
.
Whether or not she was a traitor, however, his mind was made up. Had been the second he had laid eyes on her again.
He wanted Julienne back in his bed. And he intended to have her.
Chapter
----
Six
It was a large party that left London the following Friday. Julienne found herself surprised at the assortment of guests Dare had chosen. There were some two dozen of them, of varying ages and classes.
Of the females, she suspected at least three were demireps, including a noted actress who regularly performed at Covent Garden. But there were also some older ladies in addition to Madame Brogard, one of whom was a dowager countess. Most surprising were the two genteel wedded couples he had invited—to add respectability to the party, Julienne concluded.
As for the gentlemen, they were mostly members of the Quality. Several were high-ranking noblemen who seemed to be close acquaintances of Dare’s—doubtless some of his Hellfire colleagues—while Viscount Riddingham had brought two of his friends. Bringing up the rear of the parade of vehicles were three coaches full of servants.
Julienne had no maid of her own. Normally she shared an arrangement with several other actresses at Drury Lane, dividing the services of a woman who functioned as dresser, seamstress, laundress, and wardrobe mistress. But Solange had offered the use of her own lady’s maid during the house party.
The March day was crisp and clear and quite pleasant. Many of the gentlemen, including Dare, rode beside the carriages for the trip south, but Julienne was very glad not to be forced to endure his company in the intimate confines of a post chaise.
Instead she found herself enjoying the camaraderie of several of the ladies. Amazingly they seemed to accept her with little reservation, perhaps because of Solange’s distinguished reputation. Or perhaps because anyone who was on familiar terms with the scandalous Dare North wouldn’t recoil at knowing a mere actress.
They made the trip in easy stages, stopping frequently to change horses and partake of refreshments, and arrived in the late afternoon.
For the past ten miles, Julienne had admired the picturesque view of the rolling South Downs, but now they turned between iron entrance gates onto a rhododendron-lined drive and drove through an artfully landscaped park.
“C’est magnifique,”
Solange murmured, and Julienne had to agree: across a sweeping expanse of lawns stood a majestic mansion of mellow red brick, gleaming in the sunlight.
Seeing the splendor of Dare’s estate gave her a stark reminder of the vast difference in their stations—a rich nobleman who had inherited his family fortune and a barely respectable actress who’d always had to struggle for her living.
As the passengers disembarked, she was told by one of the ladies that beyond these cultivated grounds lay beautiful gardens. And one of the gentlemen spoke up, remarking on Dare’s superb racing stables.
“Racing stables?” Julienne asked Viscount Riddingham, who had appeared at her side to offer his arm.
“Wolverton breeds and raises racehorses,” he replied rather stiffly.
Dare’s friend Lord Peter Fulbrook added
But his friend would not give up. “You need only use your instincts, Dare.”
That was the trouble. He couldn’t trust his instincts, for they had betrayed him once before. He was terrified they would do so again. Lucian was certainly right; his judgment of Julienne was clouded by the past. And his fierce urgency to claim her again only compounded the problem.
Lucian was right on another point, Dare knew. Whatever his feelings for her, he couldn’t let them interfere with his task. Too much was at stake. And if he expected his doubts regarding Julienne to be believed, he would need to show proof of her guilt. More critically, he needed to prove it to himself. One way or another, he needed to
know
.
Whether or not she was a traitor, however, his mind was made up. Had been the second he had laid eyes on her again.
He wanted Julienne back in his bed. And he intended to have her.
Chapter
----
Six
It was a large party that left London the following Friday. Julienne found herself surprised at the assortment of guests Dare had chosen. There were some two dozen of them, of varying ages and classes.
Of the females, she suspected at least three were demireps, including a noted actress who regularly performed at Covent Garden. But there were also some older ladies in addition to Madame Brogard, one of whom was a dowager countess. Most surprising were the two genteel wedded couples he had invited—to add respectability to the party, Julienne concluded.
As for the gentlemen, they were mostly members of the Quality. Several were high-ranking noblemen who seemed to be close acquaintances of Dare’s—doubtless some of his Hellfire colleagues—while Viscount Riddingham had brought two of his friends. Bringing up the rear of the parade of vehicles were three coaches full of servants.
Julienne had no maid of her own. Normally she shared an arrangement with several other actresses at Drury Lane, dividing the services of a woman who functioned as dresser, seamstress, laundress, and wardrobe mistress. But Solange had offered the use of her own lady’s maid during the house party.
The March day was crisp and clear and quite pleasant. Many of the gentlemen, including Dare, rode beside the carriages for the trip south, but Julienne was very glad not to be forced to endure his company in the intimate confines of a post chaise.
Instead she found herself enjoying the camaraderie of several of the ladies. Amazingly they seemed to accept her with little reservation, perhaps because of Solange’s distinguished reputation. Or perhaps because anyone who was on familiar terms with the scandalous Dare North wouldn’t recoil at knowing a mere actress.
They made the trip in easy stages, stopping frequently to change horses and partake of refreshments, and arrived in the late afternoon.
For the past ten miles, Julienne had admired the picturesque view of the rolling South Downs, but now they turned between iron entrance gates onto a rhododendron-lined drive and drove through an artfully landscaped park.
“C’est magnifique,”
Solange murmured, and Julienne had to agree: across a sweeping expanse of lawns stood a majestic mansion of mellow red brick, gleaming in the sunlight.
Seeing the splendor of Dare’s estate gave her a stark reminder of the vast difference in their stations—a rich nobleman who had inherited his family fortune and a barely respectable actress who’d always had to struggle for her living.
As the passengers disembarked, she was told by one of the ladies that beyond these cultivated grounds lay beautiful gardens. And one of the gentlemen spoke up, remarking on Dare’s superb racing stables.
“Racing stables?” Julienne asked Viscount Riddingham, who had appeared at her side to offer his arm.
“Wolverton breeds and raises racehorses,” he replied rather stiffly.
Dare’s friend Lord Peter Fulbrook added
Similar Books
