The Secret Life of Lady Julia by Lecia Cornwall Page A

it?”
    Thomas sighed. It would never be his problem now. “See to the trunks, Donovan, and try to look like a servant for the next ten minutes, will you?”
    Donovan pulled his forelock sarcastically. “Aye, milord. And what shall I call you?”
    Thomas considered. “Viscount Merritton should do.”
    “Until someone who knows you remembers you aren’t a viscount anymore.”
    “I doubt my brother will be here to tell, and we won’t be mixing with the British ambassador and his friends,” Thomas said coldly, pulling on calfskin gloves and straightening his coat.
    “You would still be a viscount, wouldn’t you, if you’d spoken up properly, or let me do it.”
    Thomas tightened his lips. “We’ve had this discussion,” he said in a bored tone.
    “A lady’s honor,” Donovan sneered. “As if she deserved your regard.” He growled. “She’s a lying bill o’ goods, that one, for all she’s a countess.”
    Thomas ignored Donovan’s indignation. It was too late for regrets. He’d made his choice. Even if he hadn’t been guilty then, he was guilty of other seductions, other sins, both before and after Joanna.
    “Let’s go in,” he said, dismissing the matter from his mind. From somewhere nearby, one of the grand bells in a grand Viennese church tolled the hour.

 
    Chapter 9

    T he palace on the Minoritenplatz had been chosen especially by the British ambassador for its strategic location in proximity to the residences of the other great powers. It was an elegant, sober edifice with a gray facade that brooked no nonsense from the more impressive palaces nearby. The offices of Prince Metternich, the Austrian foreign minister, were in the nearby Hofburg Palace, where Tsar Alexander had an entire floor at his disposal, as did the kings of France and Denmark. The king of Bavaria had taken over the Reichskanzlei, and the French ambassador, the wily Prince de Talleyrand, was directing French interests from the Kaunitz Palace. Their host, the Austrian emperor, presided over everything from the magnificent Schonbrunn Palace, located on the outskirts of the city and set in hundreds of acres of parkland. In fact, the entire city seemed to be set in a park, with trees and gardens everywhere.
    “Isn’t it beautiful?” Julia asked Dorothea as they explored the high-ceilinged rooms they would occupy on the palace’s second floor. Plaster cherubs watched their arrival from the corners of the rooms with mischievous smiles, their chubby cheeks shining with gold leaf. Dorothea glanced up at them as she tested the mattress. “Far less intimidating than the gargoyles in Paris, at least.” She made a face anyway. “They call this the Yellow Room. It is one of my least favorite colors.”
    “We can change the counterpane on the bed,” Julia replied. “What color would you like?”
    “Blue,” Dorothea said. “My husband loved it.” She smoothed her hand over the blue traveling dress she wore, as far from the half-mourning colors of gray and mauve as she ever strayed. “Best have the draperies changed as well. Where are your rooms, Julia? Close by, I hope.”
    “Of course. There is a sitting room between us, and a small dining room where we shall take our meals, but my bedroom is just along the hall.”
    Her room was done in soft shades of green, with a connected dressing room that would serve as nursery for Jamie.
    She crossed to the windows in Dorothea’s suite and opened them to let in the early fall breeze. There was a lovely view over the tiled roofs of the houses that squatted beneath the walls of the city’s great palaces and churches, and the lovely parks beyond that. There were trees everywhere, making the city fresh and green. In a few weeks, if they were still here, the fall colors would be glorious.
    She closed her eyes and took a breath. Vienna had a crisp, dry scent, with a hint of old roses and sugar, an elegant fragrance that suited the lovely city.
    She turned at a knock on the door and crossed