A Scandalous Charade

Ava Stone

Copyright © 2011 by Ava Stone

Cover Design by Lily Smith

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information: ava@avastoneauthor.com

www.avastoneauthor.com

Dedication

For Brandt, my inspiration for Edmund St. Claire, the nine-year-old Duke of Prestwick.

~ 1 ~

February 1812 - London

This truly is a den of iniquity, Lucas Beckford thought to himself. One sleeping, naked woman was draped across his lower torso, while another slept soundlessly, her head resting on his left shoulder. However, Luke was not sleeping. He was wide awake in the wee hours of the morning, staring at the crushed red velvet walls and what was left of some flickering candles.

Something in his life was most definitely missing. Unfortunately that same thought seemed to creep into his mind at the most inopportune times over the last month or so. Not that he should complain. Many men would love to be in his position—especially the one he found himself in right now. But somewhere along the line, this had become mundane for him. After many years of cheerful sinning in one capacity or another, he’d started to tire of this existence that was his life. Fast-paced hazard tables, fast-paced whores, and a never ending supply of money and whiskey. No, most men wouldn’t complain.

Yet, he wasn’t satisfied. So, there had to be something he was missing. Something…more.

The woman in his arms stirred and he took the opportunity to shift her to a pillow beside him. However, the one draped across his middle didn’t seem likely to move for quite some time, and he hated to wake her. She had been quite accommodating.

“Luke!” came a panicked voice on the other side of the door.

What the devil? He sat up with a start, waking the poor girl that had been atop him. “Sorry, love.” He smiled at her.

The panicked voice continued, “Lu—ke!” Then the interloper banged wildly on the door.

“For God’s sakes!” he growled. What in Lucifer’s name was the problem? Luke wrenched the door open, not a stitch on him, and glared at the intruder. His glower lightened a bit when he recognized his young friend William, Lord Haywood, standing in the corridor, a horrified expression plastered on his boyish face. Will knew better than to interrupt a man here. Something truly terrible must have happened.

Will pushed his way into the room and noticed the two girls now scrambling for clothes. He grinned bashfully at the younger of the two. “Oh, Sarah.”

“Lord Haywood.” The girl blushed, which was strange in Luke’s mind, as he didn’t remember ever seeing a whore do so before.

After he pulled his trousers up over his hips and started to button himself in, Luke glanced up and was annoyed that Haywood was still making moon eyes at the girl. “Sweet Lucifer, Will, what are you doing here?”

Will tore his eyes away from Sarah. “You have to help me, Luke. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but nothing’s worked. And tonight she told me I was a featherbrained dolt whose thoughts wouldn’t fill a thimble.”

At the moment, Luke was inclined to agree with whoever she was. He had a hard time believing that the young baron had tracked him down here in the middle of the night to discuss some female. Certainly this could wait until morning…or afternoon, or whenever Luke chose to finally wake up. “Who are we speaking about, Will?”

Haywood looked exasperated and frowned at him. “The Ice Princess, Luke—Lady Juliet.  That damned haughty chit.”

Luke’s head began to ache. This was hardly the sort of thing a man wanted to think about at—he checked his pocket watch—three-thirty in the morning. Then he pulled on his shirt and waived the girls out of the room.

Will smiled at the pretty young whore one last time. “Bye, Sarah.”

To her credit, Sarah quietly nodded and shut the door behind her. Luke scowled at his friend. “Sarah?” he asked incredulously.

“What?” Will shrugged.

“Just surprised you know her name, Will.” Calling a whore by her first name was not something Luke had ever done. In fact, he didn’t know any of their first names and planned to keep it that way.

“Oh, well,” Will began as he sank into a high-backed velvet chair, “she’s a real sweetheart. Wants to be an actress.”

Luke couldn’t care less, and his gaze darkened on his friend. “Perhaps instead of chatting up career goals with Madam Palmer’s girls you could be charming Lady Juliet.”

Will snorted and let his head fall into his hands. “I could spend all day trying to charm her and it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. Honestly, Luke, a more frigid woman doesn’t exist.” Then his head shot upward. “That’s why I need your help.”

Luke didn’t like the sound of that and he shook his head slowly. “If she’s so prickly, Will, then just pick someone else. It’s not as if she’s the only heiress in England.”

“No, she’s just the wealthiest. If I have to sell my soul in marriage, I want to get the most out of it.”

Luke pulled on his Hessians and chuckled. It was no wonder the Ice Princess wasn’t charmed by Haywood. “What a romantic notion,” he remarked sardonically.

“That’s just the problem. I don’t have a clue what to say around her. You’ve got to go with me to the Ridgemont’s tomorrow…er, technically I suppose it’s tonight.”

“No!” Luke barked emphatically. He’d successfully avoided Louisa Ridgemont for the last fortnight and he wasn’t about to go traipsing into the she-devil’s den.

“Please,” Will begged. “You’ve got to watch me interact with her, tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Luke was bone tired and he shook his head at his pitiful friend. “Not even to save your pathetic life, Haywood. Do you know how long it took me to end things with Louisa?”

Haywood actually blanched. “Oh, sorry. I hadn’t thought about that. The thing is, Luke, Lady Juliet’s unpredictable, and avoids functions for the most part. But I know she’ll be at the Ridgemont ball, and I desperately need your sage advice.”

Luke cursed under his breath. If it had been anyone else that was asking this of him, he’d have told them to go jump in the Thames…But he felt responsible for Haywood. He always had. “I ought to be checked into Bedlam for agreeing to this, and you’ll owe me for the rest of your life.”

Will’s solemn face broke into a wide grin. “You’re the best.”

“Yes, yes.” Luke frowned, opened the door of the small bedroom, and stepped into the corridor—directly into the path of Alexander Everett, the Duke of Kelfield.

An amused grin tugged at the corners of the wicked duke’s mouth. “Very interesting. I had no idea,” he smirked as he glanced inside the empty bedroom, then back at Luke and Will.

Luke scowled at Kelfield, as he pushed past him. “Bugger off.” Then as an afterthought he added, “Your Grace.”

***

“Dear God, she’s here.” Will gulped nervously, his boyish face drawn up tight. He quickly downed the remainder of the wine in his goblet.

They’d been waiting for nearly an hour at the Ridgemont’s and Luke had been certain the Ice Princess wouldn’t show up. She’d leave him to flounder in Louisa’s ballroom, paying a penance he had no desire to pay. But, apparently, he’d been wrong.

Will raked his free hand through his dark hair, as if the process would help him think of the right thing to say this time. Luke had never seen the lad so anxious. This was serious indeed.

“Courage, Will,” he drawled next to his anguished friend. Then Luke lazily pushed himself away from the large, white pillar he’d spent the last half hour leaning against, to focus his attention on the Ridgemonts’ newest arrival.

The reason he was here.

Lady Juliet St. Claire.

The last time he’d laid eyes on her had to be ten years ago, at a wedding or something. She must have been nine or ten at the time, a bony girl with knobby knees and big brown eyes.

She had changed.

She was lovely.

Lady Juliet was adorned in an expensive, yet tasteful silk rose gown that shimmered like diamonds as she glided across the floor. Her chestnut colored hair was piled high on her head, and dainty tendrils framed her heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes were still big, though apparently deceiving, as he’d heard tales of her ability to instantly chill a man to his bones with just her gaze.

So this was the chit Haywood had decided on. God have mercy on his soul.

Luke watched Lady Juliet with methodical eyes. She was instantly swooped down upon by a fortune-hunting viscount, who was quickly followed by other suitors, all light in the pockets, each of them. Without a doubt Will had competition for the heiress’ hand…er…make that fortune. “Do you see how they’ve swarmed around her? You definitely do not want to be part of that pack.”

Will frowned and focused his attention on the lady. “But if I’m not near her you can’t tell me what I’m doing wrong, and I won’t have a chance at catching her.”

With a beleaguered sigh, Luke turned to his protégé. “You won’t have a chance if you join their ranks. Trust me, Will, ladies like Juliet St. Claire are accustomed to gentlemen showering them with attention. Up ‘til now you’ve been chasing her so hard that she takes your affection for granted. But if you suddenly turn your attentions elsewhere… Well, that she’ll notice. She won’t want to lose one of her many accessories, and she’ll scramble to get you back.”

Will didn’t look convinced, and Luke grinned to himself. Haywood was still such a green lad, though over all a pretty good fellow. It wasn’t his fault he’d inherited his father’s massive debts along with his title.  The young baron was simply trying to put his estates to rights, and he was in over his head.

A few years back Luke had taken pity on Will—fresh from the country with not an ounce of Town polish. The boy had been a complete innocent. Since that time, Luke had tutored Haywood in many things: gambling, whoring, drinking. But helping him with the unenviable task of snaring a wealthy bride wasn’t something he was anxious to do. The very idea sent chills down Luke’s spine, but he had seen the baron’s accounts himself. Marriage seemed the best way to keep the Haywood estates afloat.

Across the room, Lady Juliet dismissed her entourage, one at a time. Two of her penniless suitors fought to retrieve the Ice Princess some refreshment. And it appeared that she dismissed the rest with a flick of her wrist and a cool scowl.

Now she was all alone, and Luke studied her delicate frame. If one had to marry an heiress, they’d be hard pressed to find a more attractive one.

Haywood started to move toward the icy heiress, but Luke halted him with a hand on his arm. “She’ll just turn you away, Will. Don’t be rash. Don’t act without thinking. Just watch her. Study her.”

Will snorted. “What’s the point? She never joins any group. She just stands there looking down her nose at everyone.”

But at the moment, she wasn’t looking down her nose at anyone. She was actually smiling at someone who had just entered the ballroom. Both Luke and Will glanced across the sea of people to see who had caught Lady Juliet’s attention. If Haywood had serious competition, it would behoove them to know just who it was.

But when Luke’s eyes landed on Georgina, Lady Teynham, he grinned wolfishly as luck, once again, smiled upon him. This was going to be like a walk in the park. Lady Teynham, a widowed marchioness, was Lady Juliet’s older sister. She also just so happened to be one of his sister Caroline’s dearest friends. But most importantly, Georgie had always had a soft spot in her heart for Luke.

He glanced at Haywood and winked. “Do not approach Lady Juliet. In five minutes, join me as I talk with Lady Teynham. Then we’ll all end up with the Ice Princess together and Lady Teynham will ease the way for us.”

Anxiously, Will looked from Luke to Juliet and back again. With an uncertain nod, he finally agreed. Then after one last look of warning, Luke stepped away from his young friend and toward Lady Teynham. This whole thing would be much easier if Will could just relax and listen to his guidance.

Luke stepped in Georgie’s path, with a rakish bow and an outstretched hand. “Well, if it isn’t the loveliest widow in all of England.”

Georgie smiled radiantly, her blue eyes twinkling. “My dear Lucas, whatever are you doing at Louisa’s ball? I mean, the marriage mart is the last place in the world I’d expect to find you.”

Luke chuckled and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Perhaps times change.”

Georgie giggled at that and tapped his chest with her fan. “And perhaps house cats pull Prinny’s carriage. Darling, if you were seriously considering finding yourself a wife, news would be all over Town.”

“I hardly think I’m that noteworthy,” he remarked with a lazy smile.

“On the contrary,” Georgie insisted, “Caroline would be shouting the news from the rafters and scoping out any and all eligible candidates for the position.”

He chuckled at the image she painted in his mind. Georgie knew Caroline well indeed. If he was searching for a wife, his younger sister would make a complete nuisance of herself— of that there was no doubt. “Well, for God’s sakes, Georgie, don’t tell her whatever you do. I can manage without her assistance. But what, may I ask, are you doing at a marriage mart ball? You’re not replacing Teynham?”

Georgie’s marriage had not been a pleasant one and everyone knew it. She’d been married off at the tender age of seventeen to a man that was old enough to be her grandfather and who had the reported temperament of Attila the Hun. Luke would be surprised if she ever replaced the crusty old marquess. Widowhood had saved Georgie from a miserable existence. She wouldn’t give up that status lightly.

They were slowly creeping toward Lady Juliet, and Luke surreptitiously glanced around the room. Where the devil was Haywood? He was supposed to have joined them before they reached the Ice Princess’ side.

“I’m here with my sister, Juliet. You remember her?”

Luke nodded. “Of course.”

Georgie leaned in closely to him and whispered, as if they were conspirators. “Actually, Lucas, I’m hoping someone will strike her interest. Unlike Caroline or myself, Juliet has the luxury of actually picking her own husband.”

This was perfect. He could get Georgie to tell him everything. “Oh? And who is the gentleman that’s caught her attention?”

With an unladylike grimace, Georgie shook her head and sighed. “No one yet. She’s being very obstinate about the entire thing.”

Well, that was good to know. Now he just needed to learn what the Ice Princess was looking for in a husband and then help Will discover those traits in himself. “How so?” he asked casually.

But the time for confidences had abruptly come to an end. The Ice Princess herself had stopped before them and kissed Georgie’s cheek in greeting. “I was starting to worry about you.”

Georgie pulled an unpleasant face and motioned toward the main entranceway, which was adorned in white tulips, where their hostess still stood greeting her guests. “Louisa cornered me and was-” She stopped in mid-sentence, glanced briefly at Luke, and then she cleared her throat. “Jules, you do remember Mr. Beckford don’t you?”

***

Juliet swallowed. Hard. She could never forget Mr. Beckford, and it had taken some amount of courage to approach her sister in his presence.  After all, the last time she’d seen him, she’d made a complete ninny out of herself, though she’d only been ten years old at the time. But she could still remember the mortification she felt when he’d overheard her gushing to Georgie about how ‘beautiful’ he was. He’d chuckled and patted her head in a very patronizing manner, crushing her little heart in the process.

From time to time, Juliet had thought about him over the years, but their paths had never crossed again. Though they both lived in London, they traveled in vastly different circles. Occasionally, she would hear about one of his wicked exploits and wonder what had happened to the beautiful young man he’d been.

What she saw was that he’d grown into an exceedingly striking man. Honestly, no man had the right to be that devilishly handsome. He was slightly taller than she remembered and his golden-blond hair fell rakishly across his brow. But it was his eyes that she found most captivating—just looking into them she felt lost, vulnerable, and fluttery in places she’d sooner die than speak of.

And now he was looking at her, focusing those heart-stopping, green eyes on her. Just like when she was ten, Juliet’s mouth went dry in his presence and she didn’t think she could speak. But Georgie was staring at her with wide eyes, and she felt certain she was making a cake of herself. So, she stiffly nodded her head and managed to choke out, “Of course.”

Luke Beckford took her gloved fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips. Shivers raced down Juliet’s spine, and her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t think straight or clearly hear what was going on about her. Truly, it was difficult to function as normal when a Greek God was paying her his complete attention.

But the magic between them came to an abrupt end, when without any warning at all, Lord Haywood joined their group, and grinned at her like the idiot he was. She’d been trying to shake his interest for the better part of the last month. “What a surprise to see you, Lady Juliet. And might I say you’re simply stunning this evening?”

He was such a toady! A surprise? He’d kept his eyes glued to her ever since she’d entered the room. Did the dolt think she was too featherbrained to have noticed?

After favoring the young baron with a cool expression, Juliet looked back at Mr. Beckford and caught a speaking glance that was obviously meant for Haywood.

Drat!

Realization hit her hard. The two of them were friends. She should have known better.

Lucas Beckford was not the sort to pay her any attention. She wasn’t a member of the demimonde, or someone else’s wife, or some beautiful widow. However, the reprobate probably would assist his friend Haywood in his untenable quest for her hand. How silly she’d been to think that the handsome devil could possibly find something of interest in her for himself. She felt like that awkward ten-year-old girl all over again.

Juliet found herself frowning at her own foolishness and silently swore not to fall victim to her sensibilities in the future, at least not where he was concerned.

It suddenly became much easier to look at the handsome scoundrel. And since he’d decided to interfere in her life, there were a few things she’d like to say to him. To that end, she turned an icy glare on the penniless, toad-eating baron. “Lord Haywood, would you please fetch me a glass of ratafia?”

“I’d be delighted,” Haywood squeaked. Then he scooted off toward the refreshment table, beaming with pride. The fool.

Juliet then focused her attention on her sister. She would have to get rid of Georgie too. As much as her sister loved her, she just didn’t understand the situation Juliet was in. Georgie was an incurable optimist and didn’t clearly see the dangers that surrounded wealthy heiresses. Georgie honestly believed that all of Juliet’s suitors were besotted with her, but Juliet knew better. Her suitors were besotted all right, but with her fortune not her dull, mud-colored eyes.

With a sweet smile, Juliet gestured back to the main entranceway with a delicate flick of her wrist. “Georgie, Lady Ridgemont was just trying to signal you from across the room.”

Georgie glanced across the sea of people until she spotted her old friend—who was indeed looking their direction—and rolled her eyes heavenward. “I just finished speaking with her. I can’t imagine what Louisa could possibly want now.” Then with a sigh of resignation, Georgie made her way through the crowd toward Lady Ridgemont.

When her sister was safely out of earshot, Juliet braved a glance at the striking devil at her side, only to find his green eyes dancing with merriment.

“And just what do you wish to speak with me about, Lady Juliet?”

He knew? Blast him! Her face warmed and she stiffened her back in response as she met his amused gaze. “Take a turn about the room with me, will you, Mr. Beckford?”

He stared deeply into her eyes, and Juliet felt as if he was trying to see straight into her soul. “Wouldn’t you prefer to dance?” he asked smoothly.

The first strings of a waltz began, and, fool that she was, Juliet would have preferred to dance with him. But that was not an option so she shook her head. “I never dance, sir.” Then she waived her hand airily toward her bevy of suitors and furrowed her brow. “Those dogs would hound me until I danced with every single one of them, and I have no intention of indulging even one of them in that regard.”

To her delight, the dashing scoundrel threw back his head and laughed. Then he offered her his arm with a roguish grin. “A turn about the room it is then, my lady.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and her fingertips tingled from just this simple contact with him. When he smiled down at her, Juliet thought she might faint, which was completely unacceptable—especially for her. So she took a deep breath, steadied her shoulders, and blurted out, “You are tutoring Lord Haywood in how to court me.”

The rogue nearly stumbled, but to his credit, he quickly righted himself and glanced down at her in surprise. “That obvious, is it?”

Juliet frowned her answer. She had suspected it, knew it in her mind, but hearing it confirmed was still disheartening. The tiny bit of her that hoped he’d had some interest in her died. “I want you to end it. In fact, I’d like you to convince him to find some other heiress to hound altogether.” She began to tick off the names with her fingers. “There’s Marian Hampton or Alice Kelston. Oh, Susan Clarke—her father is anxious for her to marry into a title and he’s quite plump in the pockets.”

One dark golden eyebrow shot up mockingly. “Well, you’re certainly mercenary, aren’t you?”

Juliet let go a beleaguered sigh as they passed couples who were dancing the waltz nearby. “Better one of them than me. Besides, Mr. Beckford, I’ll never marry. So your friend is simply wasting his time—Time that could be spent in courting Lucy Turnbridge perhaps?” she asked hopefully.

Luke grimaced and shook his head. “Isn’t she the one with a mustache?”

True, poor Lucy wasn’t the prettiest of girls, but physical attributes didn’t appear to matter at all to the group of fortune hunting scavengers that were preying on London’s wealthy females. “Yes, and isn’t Haywood the one with debts to pay?” she asked tartly. “Miss Turnbridge’s father has made a fortune in shipping. I’m sure your friend’s estates could be set to rights in no time.”

Her handsome companion looked skeptical. Juliet had to catch her breath when he towed her a bit closer to him and whispered, “Come now, Haywood’s a good fellow. He—”

“Is a gambling, rakish ne’er-do-well—just like you. Only he lacks your easy charm.”

He laughed again and he squeezed her fingers with his free hand. “You have a saucy tongue, Lady Juliet.”

She shrugged in response. “I can afford it. Do you have any idea how much I’m worth?” Juliet figured that, as Haywood’s confidant, Luke would have a fairly accurate guess as to her value. But would he admit to such a thing?

“Hardly an appropriate topic of conversation,” he replied with a feigned reproach.

This time Juliet laughed. “Considering your usual conversations are reputed to be highly inappropriate, Mr. Beckford, I’m certain we’re in acceptable territory. But I’ll save you the trouble of actually answering my question, as we both know that I’m one of the wealthiest women in all of England. The only St. Claire to have more than two farthings to rub together.”

There was no point in denying the truth, and thankfully he didn’t. Everyone else knew it anyway—the St. Claire coffers were completely empty, except for when Juliet replenished them. She was the only one who had any money to speak of, as her fortune had come from her mother’s family.

The history of the St. Claires was a fairly unpleasant one. Much in the same way Henry VIII wanted a son, Juliet’s father, the late Duke of Prestwick, had been obsessed with having an heir of his own. And though the duke only had four wives as compared to the six of King Henry, the unfortunate Duchesses of Prestwick hadn’t fared any better. Though none of them were beheaded, not one of them had lived past childbirth. The duke had three daughters from three different wives before he finally had the male heir he sought.

Juliet had witnessed two of these unhappy unions, and had no intention of going down that path herself. “I’ve seen many marriages, Mr. Beckford, from my father’s numerous wives, to Georgie’s unhappy turn as Marchioness of Teynham. I’m determined never follow in their footsteps. And, thankfully, I don’t have a need to. The fortune my grandfather left me will allow me to maintain my independence throughout my life and still repair the Prestwick estates for my brother. My freedom is too important to ever risk falling prey to the parson’s noose.”

***

Luke was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Ice Princess was simply enchanting—much more so than his usual companions. And he found himself smiling at her, completely amused. In fact, he was beginning to realize that he’d seriously misjudged Juliet from the onset. For one thing, he now didn’t think that she’d care at all if she lost Will’s interest. On the contrary she’d probably be elated. But most importantly, cold and frigid weren’t apt descriptions of the charming woman on his arm. Smoldering was a more accurate term, and he began to think of ways he could convince Will to give up the chase, and leave Juliet to him.

And that, in itself, should have been a most alarming thought.

Innocent, young, virginal girls were too dangerous to dally with. He’d learned that lesson years ago, when he’d nearly been forced to marry a chit, who wasn’t even as innocent as she’d led on. Quite honestly, until now, he thought he’d lost the taste for such creatures, generally preferring much more experienced women of one sort or another.

He should bow and take his leave from her. He should walk away and forget that their paths had ever crossed. Yes, he really should do all those things. “Would you like to join me in the garden, Lady Juliet?” he asked instead.

She focused her intelligent brown eyes upon him and her delicate pink lips upturned to a knowing grin, as if she could read the devilish thoughts in his mind. “Just because I have no desire to marry doesn’t mean I wish to have my reputation ruined, Mr. Beckford.”

Luke couldn’t help but smirk at that. Lady Juliet truly did have a fiery spirit, and he was becoming more intoxicated by her every moment he spent in her company. He dipped his head down toward hers.

“Finally!” came a shrill voice from behind them. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” Luke knew that voice and nearly winced when he turned around to face the unwanted interloper—Louisa, Lady Ridgemont. Their hostess wore a dark red dress and a forced smile, though she frowned when her eyes fell upon Juliet.

Damn! Things had been going so well. He’d been able to breeze past Louisa when he’d arrived, since she was clinging to her ancient husband’s arm. Somehow she’d gotten free, and Luke’s stomach churned.

“Lady Ridgemont,” he nodded curtly, and prayed in vain that his one-time paramour would leave him in peace to continue his talk with the much more intriguing Lady Juliet.

But that was not to be.

Louisa edged closer to him, with what she must have thought was a seductive look in her crystal blue eyes. “My dear Mr. Beckford, it’s a bit stifling in here, don’t you agree? Can I persuade you to follow me outside for a breath of fresh air?”

Lady Juliet slid her hand from Luke’s arm and stepped away from him. He turned instinctively to meet her big brown eyes. She smiled knowingly up at him and took another step away. “Thank you for the walk, Mr. Beckford, it was most enjoyable.”

And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd like an apparition. Luke scanned the room with his eyes, but his princess was nowhere to be found. Damn! He’d much rather have spent the evening matching wits with Juliet than dealing with Louisa.

Louisa—who was now tugging hard on his arm, and trying to steer him thorough the veranda doors to the crisp outside air. Luke wrenched his arm free from her grasp and hissed, “Sweet Lucifer, Louisa, do you want Ridgemont to see you behaving like this?”

She took a deep breath and puffed out her ample chest in his direction. “I don’t care what Ridgemont knows, darling. Please follow me outside.” Then she whispered, “It’s been far too long since I’ve enjoyed your company.”

And she’d still be waiting until the end of time, if Luke had anything to say about the matter. He took a step toward her, hoping to keep anyone else from overhearing them. “Louisa, you have guests to attend to. Pray do so.”

Then he turned on his heel and started back toward the crowd of people. He spotted Will immediately, now holding a glass of ratafia at the edge of the room and scanning the throng of guests like an expectant puppy.

However, Will and his problems were the last things on Luke’s mind at the moment as he looked the room over himself. But still he couldn’t locate Lady Juliet. She was simply gone.

Blast and damn!

~ 2 ~

Georgie sat, fuming, with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at Juliet from the other side of the carriage. “Would you care to tell me why we left Louisa’s in such haste, as if the watch were chasing after us?”

Not in a million years. Nothing she could possibly say would make sense to Georgie anyway. She’d never felt her entire body tingle with awareness before. Heavens, all she’d done was walk around the ballroom with the rogue. Prolonged contact with Mr. Beckford was to be avoided, particularly as nothing could be gained from such an acquaintance.

Besides, she hadn’t even wanted to attend the ridiculous ball in the first place, but Georgie had insisted, as Lady Ridgemont was an old friend. Then when they’d first arrived, Louisa Ridgemont tearfully pulled Georgie aside and monopolized her, leaving Juliet alone to fend off the pack of scavengers that shadowed her every move. “You didn’t have to leave,” she replied with a shrug.

“I was just supposed to let you go gallivanting off by yourself across London?”

Juliet tried not to smirk. As if she ever gallivanted anywhere. “I hardly think my returning home alone would cause a fuss. Besides, who am I trying to impress, Georgie? Certainly none of those snakes or vultures, that’s for sure.”

They continued in silence, as Juliet knew they would. Whenever she cast her suitors in an unfavorable light, Georgie would just pretend she hadn’t heard the insulting remark. And that suited Juliet just fine. She didn’t want to argue with Georgie, she just wanted to climb into bed and forget that the night had ever happened—at least most of it. She doubted she could ever forget the warmth that shot through her as she circled the room on Luke Beckford’s arm. Fool that she still apparently was.

Though Georgie frowned at her from across the darkened coach, Juliet could see her sister’s countenance drop even further. “I don’t want to drag you from event to event and make you miserable, Jules. Why don’t you consider going home to the District for a while? It’s been forever since either of us have been home.”

Juliet narrowed her eyes on her sister. Georgie knew that was not an option. And it was annoying that her sister would bring it up. So, she feigned a sickly sweet voice and replied, “That’s a wonderful idea, Georgie. After you’ve kicked out those beggars, I’ll be more than happy to return to Prestwick Chase, but not until then.”

They’d had this argument many times, and apparently they were about to have it again. Though Juliet didn’t relish the fight, she would also never agree to return to Derbyshire until their ancestral home was vacant of their vermin relations who had taken up residence there.

Georgie sighed and leaned her head against the back of the velvet squabs. “I assume by ‘those beggars’ you mean Uncle Albert and our cousins?”

Actually, Juliet had thought ‘those beggars’ was a fairly complementary term. At least it was the most complementary she could think of. It certainly hadn’t been what she’d wanted to say. “I don’t know how you can even consider seeing them after they tried to wrestle Edmund from you after Papa died. I can’t see how you can even let them stay in The Chase.”

“Jules,” Georgie began, her voice sounding weary, “what would you have me do? Send them packing? They have nowhere else to go.”

Where they went wasn’t Juliet’s concern. They were despicable people and she would prefer never to see them again. Up until her brother, Edmund, was born, her uncle, Lord Albert St. Claire, had been the next in line for the dukedom. And he hadn’t been happy to be replaced by a drooling infant. Therefore, he’d planted all sorts of nonsensical ideas in the old duke’s mind about the child. Uncle Albert had insisted that Edmund’s deceased mother was unfaithful and the boy was a by-blow. He also suggested that Edmund was a simpleton, since he couldn’t speak at the ripe old age of six months. Uncle Albert never resisted an opportunity to say something dreadful or derogatory about the young, defenseless boy.

Then after the duke’s death, Uncle Albert had sought custody of Edmund, which would have been a travesty. However, Lord Albert had miscalculated the Marquess of Teynham’s greed for power as well. Though Juliet had never cared for her unpleasant brother-in-law, she was relieved when Edmund had been awarded to Teynham and Georgie, along with herself and their sister, Felicity. Taking in the three orphans was the only decent thing the marquess had ever done, not that it was out of the goodness of his heart. However, a few years later, Teynham passed away himself, before he could do any real damage to Edmund.

Thankfully, life had been fairly peaceful since, and Juliet couldn’t understand why Georgie would even consider seeing that despicable side of their family. It brought up too many awful memories.

“Uncle Albert writes every few weeks inviting us to The Chase,” Georgie replied softly.

Juliet snorted. Loudly. “How kind of him to invite us to Edmund’s home. Georgie, I don’t want to stand in your way. If you want to go to Derbyshire, please do so. Edmund and Carraway will be leaving within the fortnight and I am perfectly willing to stay in London by myself.”

That was the end of the conversation, as Juliet knew it would be. Georgie would never leave her in London alone. This argument would be revisited in a month or so, and then they would rehash it again.

For the rest of the ride they sat in silence, staring at each other.

When Juliet and Georgie finally arrived back at Prestwick House on Upper Brook Street, they discovered Edmund, the nine-year-old Duke of Prestwick, sleeping across the main staircase, snoring lightly. His head was resting on one arm, while the rest of him was scrunched up on the stair below. There was no way in the world the child was comfortable. He’d wake in the morning with a stiff back and neck for sure. Georgie rolled her eyes at the sight, but Juliet smiled indulgently. Edmund was the greatest joy in her life, as she’d cared for him since his mother died in childbirth.

Crawford, their grey-haired butler, who had devoted his life to the two previous Dukes of Prestwick, stood at Georgie’s side with a beleaguered grimace. “His Grace insisted on waiting for you here.”

Juliet carefully walked up the stairs, dropped onto the step below her brother, and caressed his curly brown hair. “Edmund,” she whispered soothingly.

The little duke stirred and blinked his blue-green eyes open. “Jules!” Then he sat up straight and threw his arms around her neck. “You’re back?”

Juliet giggled and pulled Edmund onto her lap. “You should be in bed, Edmund.”

“But I wanted to hear about the party.”

Georgie placed her hands on her hips and tsked. “Young man, dukes do not sleep on staircases.”

Edmund snuggled more securely in Juliet’s lap and sighed. “But, Georgie, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to wait up is all.”

Juliet ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. “Come on, Edmund, you can hear all about the ball in the morning. Nothing much to tell anyway.”

He stumbled to his feet and took Juliet’s hand in his. “Did you have to put any of those scavengers in their place again?”

Juliet couldn’t help but laugh, though Georgie shook her head in obvious disapproval. “Edmund! That’s a terrible thing to say about Juliet’s suitors.”

“She says it,” the small duke replied stubbornly.

“She shouldn’t say it either. Now off to bed with you.”

Edmund hung his head and climbed the remainder of the stairs. Juliet threw Georgie a mild look of irritation, then followed their brother, taking his little hand in hers. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll tuck you in.”

Edmund’s countenance lifted as they ascended the stairs. When they rounded the corner, out of Georgie’s sight, Edmund exuberantly bounced down the hall on his toes. “Did you have fun tonight, Jules?”

Strangely enough she did, though she couldn’t admit that to her precocious younger brother—or anyone else for that matter. Still, she smiled as she thought about Luke Beckford and the tingly way he’d made her feel. Though, if she was honest with herself, most rakes probably had that effect on women, or they wouldn’t be rakes in the first place. Were some men simply born to be scoundrels? She had definitely remembered feeling fluttery when she’d first seen him a decade earlier. And it seemed…

“Juliet?” Edmund asked again, a note of concern marking his voice.

She wiped the silly grin from her face and shook her head. “It was terribly boring, Edmund, just like all the others Georgie makes me go to. Just wait until it’s your turn. Girls will swoon whenever you walk in the room.” Juliet adopted a giggly voice to imitate the featherbrained chits that filled the balls she went to, “Oh, Your Grace, you’re so clever. And your fashion sense is simply unparalleled. Why you’re the most interesting man in all of London. In all of England. In the entire world!”

Edmund was giggling now as well, and they stopped in front of his bedroom door. With his fingers on the handle, he tipped his face up to look at her. “Does no one tell the truth?”

Juliet heaved a sigh. She didn’t want to pass her cynical view of life to her sweet little brother. There was plenty of time for him to acquire that all on his own, when he was older. “Some people tell the truth, Edmund. It’ll be your job to figure out which ones they are.”

“And none of those scavengers that plague you tell the truth?” he asked innocently.

Juliet ruffled her brother’s hair. “No, I’m afraid they don’t.”

Edmund nodded his head, with a childlike understanding. “Well, I think you’re the most amazing and beautiful woman in all the world.”

She loved her brother more than anything. He had an innocent sweetness about him, a trait he inherited from his mother and certainly not their father. “Thank you, Edmund. That means more coming from you than anyone else.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his brown curls.

“Someday, Jules, you’ll find the perfect man. One who cares about you, not your money. When he tells you that you’re the most amazing and beautiful woman in the whole world, he’ll mean it.”

Forcing a smile to her lips, Juliet nodded indulgently. “I’m certain you’re right, sweetheart.” Though she was certain of no such thing.

***

Edmund lay in his bed looking up at the dark canopy above, while thoughts of Juliet flittered about in his mind. She was the most amazing and beautiful woman in the whole world. Surely someone else saw it. All the men in London couldn’t be blind.

He’d make a note to ask his Uncle Fin about what to do. Because more than anything, he wanted Juliet to be happy. She deserved nothing less. Georgie was convinced that the men always visiting Juliet truly liked her, and Juliet was equally convinced they only liked her fortune. How to tell which one of them was right?

Edmund would have to take a more active role, pay a bit more attention to her suitors. He was the Duke of Prestwick, after all.

***

Luke had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning thinking about Lady Juliet, and the erotic images of her that floated in and out of his mind were mesmerizing indeed. She was simply fascinating, and it had been a long time since someone or something had fascinated him.

Most of his life he’d dedicated himself to wine, women, and song, without a thought to much of anything else, though in the last few years he’d become quite successful at playing with his investments. If he’d known sooner the sort of trouble Haywood was in, he would have advised his friend differently—but there wasn’t time for that anymore. Will needed to marry and he needed to marry well. But he would never convince Juliet in that regard. So that would leave Luke free to further his own acquaintance with the delightful girl. She did appear to be the perfect distraction to counter his ennui.

Usually, he dallied with married women who were unhappy with their lot in life or high-priced whores who excelled in their trade. Occasionally, he spent time with a merry widow or two, though they tended to be needy. But never, well not since Lydia, did he play with young misses—for they were truly the most dangerous of all creatures.

However in this case, Juliet had an aversion to marriage that appeared to match his own. It spoke well for her that she recognized the failings of the institution at the tender age of twenty. This must be why he found her so intriguing—and deliciously tempting.

The lady had such a fiery spirit, she would make a truly delectable conquest. However she was an innocent miss, and he needed to figure out the best way—no, the perfect way—to capture her. After all, it seemed like such a waste for a creature as luscious and spirited as Lady Juliet to miss out on the magic of life, simply because she chose not to marry.

Actually, now that he thought about it, by seducing her, he was doing her a favor. Broadening her horizons. Opening her eyes to a new world. He grinned at the thought.

Ideas of how to proceed began to rattle around in his head. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, though she did seem to appreciate blunt honesty. He’d keep that in mind.

But first he needed more information about the girl. Haywood was the obvious candidate for such, but, well, that would be awkward since he hadn’t yet convinced the young baron to give up on Juliet. He most certainly needed to do so as soon as possible. Besides, Will was mainly enamored by Juliet’s fortune, and Luke didn’t care a whit about any of that. So, if not Will, then who?

The answer came to him in a flash—Caroline!  Of course!

Luke smiled wickedly to himself. He could get all the information he needed from his sister, but he’d have to tread lightly. If Caroline had even the teeniest inkling of what he was truly after, she’d strangle him on the spot. But he could manipulate her into getting what he needed. After all, he’d had years of practice.

***

Luke grinned as he quietly entered his sister’s white parlor unannounced. Caroline, Viscountess Staveley, sat with her slippered feet tucked up under her, reading what could only be described as a trashy novel. Her golden brown curls were loosely pulled back from her face, and her pretty brow was furrowed. Apparently things weren’t going well for the characters in her book. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked in a loud, booming voice.

Caroline shot off the ground nearly a mile and landed back on her gold-and-white settee, with a look of annoyance in her hazel eyes.

“Lucas! You despicable scoundrel,” she soundly chastised him, as she scrambled to her feet and dropped the book to the settee. “What are you doing here? Staveley won’t be happy if he learns you’ve visited while he’s gone.”

Staveley could go straight to hell, for all Luke cared. He wasn’t at all fond of his brother-in-law. The viscount was a stuffy, self-important prig in Luke’s opinion—his only redeeming quality was that he treated Caroline and their children well. “Well, honestly, Caro, don’t tell the stick. I certainly won’t be discussing it with him.”

Caroline frowned her response to that, and her golden brown curls bobbed as she shook her head with feigned annoyance. Then her pretty face lightened and she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t say such awful things about David, darling, I do love him so.”

In Luke’s mind there wasn’t a more mismatched pair in his acquaintance. Caroline was warm and vivacious, generally the life of any party, and David was stiff, boring, and spent the majority of his time combing through old tomes, looking for only God knows what. In fact, Luke had waited until Staveley had already left for his club before knocking on his sister’s Curzon Street door. There was no point in running into the old curmudgeon. But since he hadn’t come to discuss his brother-in-law, Luke simply shrugged and hoped his sister would drop the subject all together. He had more important things to discuss.

Caroline pushed him into an over-stuffed chair by the grate and smiled deviously. “I’ve just had the best idea, Luke. Quite interesting, really.”

Interesting was generally a dangerous word where Caroline was concerned, so Luke looked at her skeptically. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Well, I’ve been feeling so under the weather the last week—a terrible cold. First Rachel and now me. So I’ve had plenty of time to think, and—”

“You mean you’ve had plenty of time to plot something wicked.”

She narrowed her eyes on him just as she sneezed into a handkerchief. “As I’m not feeling up to arguing with you, I’ll just pretend you didn’t say that. Anyway, darling, do you remember Grace?”

Grace Benton was David’s youngest sister and an incorrigible flirt. The girl had thrown herself at Luke on more than one occasion. He couldn’t imagine where his sister was going with this line of questioning. “She’s fairly hard to forget.”

Then Caroline blushed, apparently remembering one of the earlier episodes between himself and the little tart. “Of course, I nearly forgot. But, darling, don’t you think she would make a splendid match for your friend Haywood?”

Not unless she’d somehow inherited the crown jewels. “Caroline, you know how I feel about matchmaking. Besides, Will has his eye on someone else at the moment.” At least until Luke could talk him out of it.

Caroline slumped back in her seat and pouted. “Drat. But you must admit they would make a striking pair.”

The easiest way to end this conversation was to simply agree with her, so he did with a nod of his head. “Yes, striking. But like I said, Will’s nearly spoken for.”

“Oh, very well.” Then Caroline sat up straight. “Well, darling, do tell me, what has brought you to my door so early in the day? I don’t know when I last saw you venture out during sunlight.”

He needed to proceed carefully or Caroline would see right through him. “I saw Lady Teynham and her sister last night…” His sister scowled at him, but Luke pressed on. “Anyway, I was hoping you could—”

“Lucas, you are such a lout!” Caroline snapped waspishly.

That might very well be true, but there was no way she could possibly know what he was after, so he narrowed his eyes on his sister. “I beg your pardon.”

“It wasn’t enough that you had to carry on some illicit affair with Louisa in front of all the world, but now you’ve got your eye on Georgie! I’m telling you, my dear brother, I won’t stand for it. At this rate I won’t have any friends left. Besides, Georgie is much more fragile than crazy Louisa. The last thing she needs is you in her life.”

Luke tried to keep from laughing. “For God’s sake, Caro, I’m not interested in Georgie.” Thank Lucifer his sister had jumped to the wrong conclusion. The distraction could serve to help him if he played his cards right.

Caroline pursed her lips, clearly agitated. “Well, why not? She’s simply lovely.”

For the love of God! He’d forgotten how tiresome his sister could be at times and he started to remember why it had been a while since his last visit to the Staveley household. “So, now you want me to carry on an illicit affair with Lady Teynham? Make up your mind, will you? You’re always so bloody difficult to talk to when you get like this.”

She pouted again and shot him a murderous look. “I want you to stay far away from Georgie, but I’d also like for you to agree with me that she is quite a pretty little thing.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I think I now pity Staveley for the first time. How does the man put up with you?”

Caroline folded her arms across her chest with the dramatic flair that she had mastered years earlier as a spoiled child. “It’s such a shame you don’t visit more often, Lucas. Now, if you’re not interested in Georgie what do you want?”

This was it. He just had to keep Caroline from figuring out the truth. He slid toward the edge of his seat with his shoulders slumped forward. “Haywood is courting Lady Juliet and he’s asked for my advice.”

Caroline’s arms fell into a more relaxed looking position and the devilish twinkle once again sparkled in her hazel eyes. “Oh, that is wonderful! Georgie will be so happy. She desperately wants Juliet to make a good match for herself. What is it you want to know, darling?”

“Well, what sort of things does she like? Roses? The opera? Anything you can offer will be of great help.”

In her matchmaking element, Caroline was unparalleled and there was nothing she liked better than interfering, er, helping two people come together. Looking heavenward, she tapped her finger against her chin in contemplation. Then her face lit up. “Orchids. Juliet has expensive tastes. Can Haywood afford her? I think I remember hearing that his father left the family near destitute, and…” Caroline leapt from her seat with a darkening scowl and thumped his chest. Hard. “You awful bastard! You truly are terrible. He’s after her money and you’re helping him! Out. Get out.” She pointed to the door.

But before Luke could even hope to respond to his sister, the parlor doors flew open and Caroline’s five-year-old daughter, Emma, raced inside, nearly hysterical with wild, brown curls in disarray and a smudge of some sort covering her skirts. Then the sobbing child threw herself against her mother’s legs in such a dramatic fashion that Luke knew exactly which parent’s traits his niece had inherited. “Mama, Adam has a sn-snake and he was ch-chasing me.”

Caroline wrapped her arms around her crying daughter and glared at Luke. “Brothers are awful creatures, aren’t they, darling? And unfortunately, they never get any better.”

Emma raised her little tear-stained face to look at her mother, and noticed Luke when he stood up a second later. “Uncle Luke!” Her bottom lip was trembling. “M—make Adam get rid of that awful thing.”

Luke met Caroline’s glare and then nodded to his niece. “Of course, sweetheart. Where is the blackguard?”

A few moments later, he found himself hunched over and peering into the frightened and beady little eyes of a tiny garter snake that his eight-year-old nephew was holding. Adam shuffled his feet anxiously and stared at Luke with an uneasy expression.

Small boys with snakes and little teary-eyed girls were domestic issues Luke was glad he didn’t have to face on a regular basis. “I’m afraid to ask just where you came across this little fellow,” he remarked as he took in Adam Benton’s disheveled appearance. The boy had mud caked on his knees and his hands were covered in dirt.

Adam grinned widely. “I found him in the garden, Uncle Luke. And he’s a slippery one. It took me almost an hour to catch him.”

Luke raised one eyebrow and stood up straight. “You do know that your mother will never allow you to keep him.”

The boy’s face fell and shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t know why. He won’t hurt anybody. I swear it.”

“It’s not a matter of hurting anyone, Adam. I’m sure Slimy or whatever his name is—”

“Strangles,” Adam informed him proudly.

Luke couldn’t help but grin at that. The little snake couldn’t strangle a lady bug if it tried. “Well, I’m sure Strangles is a pleasant fellow, but not a proper pet for a dignified boy living in Mayfair. You’ll have to let him go.”

Adam frowned. “Everybody gets a pet but me.”

Luke hadn’t signed up for this, and he barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Domestic issues weren’t his forte. He just wanted to be done with this entire situation as soon as possible. “I’m sure your mother will get you a proper pet if you ask her.” After all, Caroline spoiled her children completely rotten.

But Adam just shook his head. “She says I can have a cat. I hate cats. Rachel and Emmie both have them and they’re no fun at all. They never come when you call them and they cough up hairballs. I wanted a dog, but Mama says I can’t have one.”

The poor boy looked so forlorn, and Luke suddenly remembered being a boy himself and how much he’d wanted a dog. His older brother Robert, who was already Earl of Masten by then, had believed Luke wasn’t mature enough to handle the responsibility and so he never got one. Now Luke realized with a frown, he was two-and-thirty and still dog-less. “That doesn’t sound like your mother at all.”

Adam shrugged. “Dogs make papa sick. He can’t stop sneezing when he’s around them.”

Luke had to fight the urge to smile. That was the best information he’d received all day. Well, that and the fact that Juliet liked orchids. He pointed to the French doors that led to the Staveley gardens. “Return Strangles to the wilds of Staveley’s garden, Adam. Then if you refrain from procuring anymore inappropriate pets and are nice to your sisters for the next month, I’ll get you a dog myself.”

His nephew’s eyes lit up and he grinned widely. “But what about Papa?”

He tousled Adam’s brown hair and winked at him. “Let me worry about your papa. And not a word of our deal to anyone, Adam.”

Adam nodded happily and bolted toward the outside doors, little Strangles’ tail swinging back and forth as he went. Luke smirked to himself. A dog was the perfect thing to drive Staveley stark-raving mad.

He could hardly wait to deliver the little flea-bitten bundle to his nephew. Hopefully the boy could keep up his end of the deal.

~ 3 ~

The Prestwick sitting room was aglow with warm afternoon light. While Georgie sat reading correspondence from her late husband’s family, Edmund and Juliet sat across from each other, finally finishing a very long, drawn-out game of chess. They’d started the game two weeks earlier, and the young duke was just about to lose.

Edmund scrunched up his face and studied the chess board. His last move had been a mistake and she could tell he was processing that at this very moment. “I’ve lost,” he finally admitted with a sound of defeat and toppled his onyx queen over with the flick of his hand.

Georgie looked up briefly from her letter and admonished the boy, “I hope that piece fell over by accident, Edmund. Poor sportsmanship is so ugly.”

Juliet winked at Edmund, and he hung his head as he righted the queen. “Sorry, Georgie. It’s just that it’s so much easier to beat Miss Mitford.”

“Yes, well—” Georgie began, but was interrupted with a light scratching at the door.

“Enter,” Edmund called so quickly that Juliet was certain he was trying to wriggle out of another one of Georgie’s lectures.

The large, oak door opened and Crawford stepped inside, carrying a silver salver. The old butler immediately met Juliet’s eyes. “You have another visitor, milady.”

She groaned aloud. Wonderful! Who was it now? Lord Hawley? Or Mr. Waring? Or perhaps Lord Brookfield again? Although she was praying it wasn’t the latter, as she had begged the penniless viscount to please leave her in peace yesterday afternoon when he’d called on her for the third time that day. “I assume you’ve led my guest to the pink parlor?”

A devilish twinkle crossed the old butler’s grey eyes as he nodded his head. The pink parlor was a newly refurbished room that was decidedly anti-male. The furniture was all lavish and very dainty, as comfort had not been taken into consideration—or rather discomfort had been Juliet’s prime goal when she had decided to redecorate the parlor. Although, to be perfectly honest, the idea was actually Edmund’s, but Juliet had adopted it as her own. The theory was if unwanted visitors were uncomfortable in their surroundings, they wouldn’t stay as long. Thus far, however, the room had been a complete failure, as one fortune hunter after another had firmly planted themselves upon the uncomfortable settee and seemed determined to stay there as long as it took to get a ‘yes’ from Juliet.

“Who is it this time?” she asked as she crossed the floor to where Crawford stood.

“A new one, milady.”

A new one? Juliet retrieved the calling card from the salver and her heart skipped a beat when she read The Honorable Lucas Beckford on the front of the heavy velum card. She swallowed. “My goodness.”

“Who is it?” Edmund raced to her side.

But Juliet pocketed the card and spun around to face Georgie. “It’s Mr. Beckford.”

“Luke?” Georgie asked in awe, then she smiled widely. “He was asking me quite a bit about you at the Ridgemont’s Ball the other night.”

He was? Then Juliet’s memory began to clear. Of course he’d asked about her. He had been set to help Lord Haywood in his quest.

But Georgie continued, “I am quite fond of the scoundrel, but you really must be careful, Jules. Wait just a moment and I’ll follow you. A chaperone is a necessity in his presence.”

Juliet snorted. As if Luke Beckford had designs on her. He’d probably come to discuss Lord Haywood, and she’d rather do that without Georgie witnessing the event. “Don’t be silly. I’ll send him on his way and be back in a trice. Finish your letters.”

“But, Juliet,” Georgie started.

However, Juliet silenced her sister with the wave of her hand. “I can handle Mr. Beckford.”

As she left the room, she heard Edmund ask Georgie just who Mr. Beckford was and why she’d called him a scoundrel. And while Juliet would have loved to hear her very proper sister try to explain about the handsome rake, she figured she’d better hurry while Georgie was distracted.

Her heart was racing as she opened the door to the parlor, and when her eyes landed on Luke, she stifled a smile. He looked positively ridiculous and out of place. His large frame was scrunched up to sit on the tiny pink and gold brocade settee, with his knees nearly hitting his chin. His arms were folded across his broad chest. When he saw her he stood at once, nearly knocking over a delicate, intricately-carved table in the process.

Juliet covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing. She’d never envisioned the charismatic Lucas Beckford sitting in her pink parlor, looking like an overgrown schoolboy. “Mr. Beckford, what a surprise.”

He stood tall above her now, and Juliet had to tilt her head back to see that his roguish grin was firmly back in place. She warily offered the scoundrel her hand, which he took at once and brought to his lips. “You are radiant, Lady Juliet.”

She arched one brow at him and managed to retrieve her hand from his grasp. Radiant was not a word that anyone used to describe her, not unless they wanted something from her—which meant he was, indeed, here to press Haywood’s case. Juliet gestured for Luke to have a seat and she slid into a dainty chintz chair across from the settee. “Mr. Beckford, I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear the other night. Please don’t waste your time on Lord Haywood’s behalf. I will not change my mind.”

“I’m not here to talk about Will. I wanted to see you.” His green eyes twinkled mischievously and the corners of his handsome mouth upturned into a seductive smile. He looked every inch the wickedly fabled seducer he was rumored to be.

As his gaze raked her up and down, Juliet suddenly wished she’d worn something other than her simple sage muslin day dress. How unfortunately drab. “I don’t have time for games, sir. So, cut bait. What are you after?”

He studied her for a moment before boldly answering, “I’m determined to have you, princess.”

The smoldering look in his green eyes should have terrified her, but she ignored it—certainly he was up to something else. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Beckford,” she began with a frown, “I was unaware that you’d lost all your funds, however—”

He chuckled, and Juliet wondered if the settee would falter as it shook it beneath his muscular frame. “I’m not after your fortune. Is it so hard to believe that I might want to spend time with you simply because I enjoy your company?”

Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. For as long as she could remember, men were interested only in her inheritance. And now this Greek God, with enchanting eyes and more charm than all other men of her acquaintance combined, wanted her to believe that he enjoyed her company? A foolish girl might fall for such a thing. But Juliet was no fool—at least not most of the time. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

“No?” Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Then I’ll just have to convince you,” he drawled. With a crooked grin, Luke rose from the uncomfortable settee and offered Juliet his hand.

Though she had no idea what he had planned and was certain it was the exact wrong thing to do, Juliet tentatively took his hand, all the while staring into the devilish green depths of his eyes. Before she knew what had happened, he’d pulled her against the wall of his chest and encircled her waist with his hands. Juliet’s heart was pounding so hard, she was certain he could hear it. No one had ever done such a thing to her! “Mr. Beck—”

“Shh,” he whispered across her lips, just before he covered them with his own.

It was a soft kiss, pleasant and not demanding. His warm lips roamed over hers as his sinful fingers traced lazy circles across her back. Juliet felt giddy, almost drunk, as her body begged to melt against his glorious frame.

She felt spectacular, beautiful, desirable…then reality began to slowly creep its way back into her mind. Men didn’t see her that way. They never had. She managed to pull herself out of his grasp and step away. “What are you doing?”

Luke closed the small gap between them and tugged on one of her loose curls. “If you have to ask, princess, I must be out of practice.”

That was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard, as if this sensuous man who was rumored to have slept with half the married women in London could possibly be out of practice. Juliet couldn’t help but laugh, which apparently Luke hadn’t anticipated, because he instantly released his hold on her.

“Women don’t usually laugh when I kiss them,” he muttered with a frown.

At that Juliet laughed even harder and fell back into her seat, holding her side—which was most unladylike, but she just couldn’t help it. And when his handsome features drew up in an unpleasant scowl, she tried to bring her levity back under control. “Please, sit, Mr. Beckford.”

“I think I’d prefer to stand,” he coolly responded.

After a long, staggering sigh, Juliet rose from her seat too, but she still kept a good distance and the back of her seat between them. “What was your nefarious scheme, sir? Did you plan to compromise me, so that Lord Haywood could rush to my rescue? I assure you, it won’t work. I don’t need a hero to save me.”

“Women don’t ask to be rescued from me either,” he growled back. “And I already told you this has nothing to do with Haywood.”

Juliet was completely sober now and she furrowed her brow as she stared at him. He looked a bit deflated, as if she’d wounded him. “What does this have to do with, then?” she asked quietly.

His green eyes soften just a bit, though his scowl remained in place. “I’ve already told you, princess. I enjoyed your company the other night and I wanted to further our acquaintance.”

Was he serious? If even half the rumors about him were true, she was not the sort of woman whose company he usually enjoyed. And yet, the kiss they’d shared still warmed her belly. Perhaps she was just too jaded for her own good. “To what end, Mr. Beckford?”

He finally quirked a smile and tingles raced across Juliet’s skin. “Well, to friendship, of course.”

“You want to be friends?”

“They very best of friends,” he assured her.

She knew deep down that friends was a euphemism, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it even to herself. The idea of being friends with Luke Beckford was a dangerous one indeed. Proper, unmarried ladies didn’t associate with rakes such as him, not unless they wanted to be ruined—which Juliet most certainly did not. Yet, the proposition was thrilling and adventurous…and surprisingly quite tempting. She braved a glance into his heart-stopping emerald eyes and swallowed. “And Lord Haywood?”

“Will not hound you any longer.”

“Oh?” she asked innocently. “And which lucky heiress has he turned his attention to then?”

Luke paused with pursed lips, and Juliet narrowed her eyes on him. Clearly, the scoundrel had not been successful in focusing Lord Haywood’s attention on anyone else. And yet he’d almost guaranteed that the baron wouldn’t plague her any longer.

“I haven’t yet spoken to Haywood, but you won’t need to worry about him,” he finally answered.

“Really?” she questioned him with a raised brow. “You seem quite certain for a man who has yet to have a conversation with his lordship.”

Luke sighed. Loudly. “The fact remains, princess, that Haywood does need to marry well. Since you’re not agreeable, which of your previous suggestions do you think would make the best match for him?”

Juliet was taken aback. When she’d originally listed candidates for the position, she hadn’t expected to be taken seriously. But she could tell, or at least thought she could tell, that Luke seemed sincere. “Very well. Tell me about your friend. I have my own opinion, of course—”

“That he’s a gambling, rakish ne’er-do-well who lacks charm?” Luke interrupted with a roguish grin.

She almost smiled in return. Almost. It just wouldn’t do to let this—this man—know how he affected her. “I’m interested in your take on Lord Haywood, assuming it is different from mine. He must have some interests.”

Luke took a moment, apparently to ponder the question, and then finally answered, “He enjoys the theatre.”

The theatre? She wouldn’t have pegged the baron as a lover of the arts. On the other hand… “The theatre? Or actresses?”

To his credit, Luke had the good sense not to lie. His lips quirked upward. “He’s been an avid patron of both.”

She tried not to blush at his candor, and found it hard to meet his eyes. “I see. Well, then…” She ran over the candidates in her mind as her hand toyed with one of the green satin ties on her dress. Who would be the best match for William Haywood? “I believe he might suit Susan Clarke.”

Luke gestured for her to continue.

“I told you her father is anxious for her to marry a title, and though with the fortune he’s amassed he could do much better than a mere baron for his daughter, Mr. Clarke is most interested in her happiness. A novel idea in these enlightened times.”

“And you think she would suit Will?”

“Obviously she would suit Haywood,” Juliet answered tartly. “She’s an heiress. But if he can make her happy, then he would suit Miss Clarke and her father. She is quite fond of the theatre, if I’m not mistaken. It may not be much, but it is something. Best to have common interests, if nothing else.”

“Like delirious desire?” Luke chuckled as he took a step toward her.

Juliet took a step away from him. Her heart beat faster whenever he was around, and she wasn’t at all sure that was a good thing. She’d told Georgie she could handle him, but now she wasn’t certain that was true. She eyed him warily.

With an earth-stopping smile, he gazed at her as if he could knock away all her defenses with a simple wave of his hand. “I have a proposition for you, princess.”

She should probably turn tail and leave. There wasn’t anything proper he would suggest—she could see that in his eyes. “And what is that?”

“In exchange for your continued help with Miss Clarke, I’ll personally keep Haywood and all of your other suitors away from you.”

Impossible. No one could do that. “How?”

His wicked green eyes twinkled. “I’ll court you and keep the rest of them at bay. Mark my words. If you hang on my arm, princess, they won’t bother you anymore.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was he serious? “Court me?” she sputtered. “I—I mean I hardly see the point, as I have no plans to marry you or anyone else.”

He was chuckling again and took another step toward her. “Princess, marriage isn’t for me either, but no one else has to know that. It can be our little secret.”

He side-stepped the chair and closed the gap between them. Juliet stared up into his green eyes, trying to formulate something intelligent to say, which became increasingly more difficult with each step he took. “So you’ll keep all of those scavengers away from me? I don’t see what you’ll get out of all this.”

With his long, tapered fingers, Luke gently caressed the side of her cheek. “I get to spend time with you.” Then he dipped his head and once again captured her mouth.

Juliet lost herself in the kiss, feeling more drawn to him each moment he held her. He was addictive and she wanted more and more of him. But a moment later, she broke off the kiss when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Then in the next instant, the parlor door was thrown open and Edmund bounded inside.

***

Edmund felt he was fairly worldly for nine, and when he walked into the pink parlor, it did not escape his notice that his sister had nearly leapt across the room and a deep blush settled on her cheeks. Therefore, the young duke turned his attention immediately to The Scoundrel Georgie had just been discussing. Although his oldest sister had simply given him the general brushstrokes, he knew there were many things she’d left unsaid.

So, this man was a rake, according to Georgie. How interesting. He’d never met one before. Though looking at Luke Beckford, Edmund couldn’t tell what would make this man so much more appealing to women than another. He honestly just looked like any other man, but apparently Juliet found him quite pleasing because her blush deepened when The Scoundrel looked at her. Women. Edmund wasn’t sure he’d ever understand them. “I’m Prestwick,” he announced, when it seemed no one else was going to speak.

The Scoundrel bowed grandly. “Lucas Beckford, Your Grace.”

Juliet stepped toward him and managed to find her voice. “I believe Mr. Beckford was just leaving, Edmund.”

“Not on my account, I hope.” And he sincerely meant it. Edmund would have been happy to study the man for a bit longer.  Find out what he was about.

“No,” his sister answered with a smile. “He has an errand to attend to. A meeting with Lord Haywood, I believe.”

Edmund looked The Scoundrel over with assessing eyes. Juliet liked him. It was plain as day on her face. How interesting. She certainly didn’t like any of the others. But did The Scoundrel like her? Edmund was determined to find out. “I’ll see you out, Mr. Beckford.”

The Scoundrel nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace.” Then he looked back over his shoulder at Juliet. “If you get the chance, I’ve got to attend my Aunt Jane Danbury’s fete tonight.”

Juliet tilted her head to the side with a smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule, Mr. Beckford.”

He smiled back. “I’ll call on you soon, princess…after I’ve dealt with Haywood.”

Finally alone in the corridor with the scoundrel, Edmund looked up at him with curious eyes. He’d never seen Juliet blush before. Who was this man? “You like my sister.” It was a bold statement, but he wanted to see how Beckford responded to it.

Without hesitation, The Scoundrel nodded in agreement. “Very much so. Are you trying to protect her from me, Your Grace?”

Edmund liked that The Scoundrel didn’t talk down to him or treat him like a child. He hated it when Georgie did so. “That depends. Are you a fortune hunter?”

Beckford’s deep, warm chuckle filled the corridor, and Edmund decided almost immediately that he liked him. “My income is secure, Your Grace.”

“Well, in that case, you may call me Edmund.”

“I’m Luke,” he responded with an amused grin and a raised brow.

Edmund was now completely certain that he liked this man. There was just something about him. “Luke, do you know my sister, Lady Teynham?”

Luke nodded his head. “I’ve known Georgie for quite some time. She went to a girls’ school with my sister, Lady Staveley.”

Edmund made a mental note of that. He knew Lady Staveley fairly well. “She says you’re a scoundrel. Is that true?”

Again Luke chuckled as he took in Edmund’s expression. “She wouldn’t be the first to think so.”

“But you won’t hurt Juliet, will you?” This, Edmund desperately wanted to know. No matter how much he liked Luke, he couldn’t let Juliet go unprotected. He was only nine—but he was the Duke of Prestwick.

“I have no intention of hurting your sister. I’m quite fond of her.”

Luke did seem sincere, and Edmund believed him. He breathed a sigh of relief. All in all, this had been fairly easy. He should have taken more of an interest in Juliet’s suitors a long time ago. “Good.” He smiled. “Then I’ll help keep Georgie distracted, if you need me to.”

They had reached the large mahogany front door and Luke offered his hand to Edmund, a twinkle in his green eyes. “I think you’ll make a spectacular scoundrel yourself someday, Edmund.”

Edmund like the sound of that and he grinned. Perhaps Georgie had it all wrong. It seemed quite the thing to be called a scoundrel.

***

Luke and Edmund had barely left the pink parlor when a shocked squeal from outside the doorway. Juliet rushed to the door to find Georgie standing in the corridor clutching a letter to her chest and looking quite horrified.

She was never happy to deal with Teynham’s family, but Juliet couldn’t imagine what had happened that would make Georgie look so distraught. “Heavens, Georgie, what’s wrong?”

Georgie thrust the letter into Juliet’s hands. “It’s Felicity.”

Felicity, their younger sister, was spending time abroad with her American cousins in Boston. When she heard her sweet little sister’s name, Juliet anxiously straightened the foolscap to read the letter.

Dear Georgie and Juliet,

I hope this letter finds you both well. I have the most wonderful news to share with you, and so much has happened. Firstly, I will not be returning home to England, as much as I miss you. However, I have decided to remain here in Massachusetts. Last week I married the most wonderful man, Captain Aaron Pierce of Boston, and I find that my place is here with him. I am certain that you will understand. Please be happy for me, as I am the most happy I have ever been. I shall write when I am able. Give my love to Edmund.

Your devoted sister,

Mrs. Felicity Pierce.

Juliet read and then re-read the letter at least a dozen times. She blinked up at Georgie in disbelief, just as Edmund rounded the corner toward the parlor. “Has she lost her mind?”

“Has who lost her mind?” Edmund asked innocently, though he was promptly ignored by his two older sisters.

Georgie was shaking her head. “I should never have let her go to America with those people.”

“They are her family,” Juliet offered quietly.

Georgie snorted. “Hardly. We’re her family.”

“Not anymore,” Juliet frowned. “She a Pierce now, of Boston—whoever they are.”

Edmund was now bouncing up and down on his toes, turning a hideous shade of red. “Bugger it all, Jules, who are you talking about?”

Georgie’s attention instantly snapped to the boy. “Young man, I don’t want to ever hear that sort of language from you again.”

Edmund pouted and furrowed his brow. “Well, if either of you would just answer me I wouldn’t have to use that sort of language.”

“That’s no excuse, Edmund. You are the Duke of Prestwick, and I’ll not have you sounding like some sort of gutter trash,” Georgie insisted, with her hands firmly on her hips.

Georgie’s criticism always left Edmund a little fractured. It wasn’t his fault she was brittle—it was just the shocking news from Felicity. Juliet ruffled her brother’s hair comfortingly and handed the letter to him. “It’s Felicity, sweetheart.”

Edmund’s little face scrunched up as he read the note. Then he frowned and handed the letter back to Juliet. “She could’ve at least written me as well. She didn’t even think about me until the very end. I am the duke.”

Juliet laughed. It was either that or cry, and truthfully she felt more like doing the latter. “Edmund darling, you know she’s flighty. She did send her love.”

“For heaven’s sakes, Edmund,” Georgie chastised, “you’re missing the important part of the letter. The little fool has run off and gotten married.”

Edmund retrieved the letter from Juliet’s hand and scanned it again. “Mrs. Felicity Pierce? Shouldn’t she still be Lady Felicity?”

“Americans,” Georgie explained. “They have no sense of propriety.”

“Captain Pierce?” he continued with a frown. “Like an army captain? Or a sea captain? Or naval captain? Do you know which?”

Juliet sighed. “That’s all she said. We don’t know anything about Captain Pierce. She certainly didn’t mention him in her last letter.” Not that any of them should have been surprised by that. Felicity was by far the most impetuous member of their little family.

Her mother, Violet, a native Bostonian, had simply been visiting London when she met and then quickly married the previous Duke of Prestwick. Therefore it was only fitting that her daughter should visit America and follow in her impulsive footsteps.

To Juliet the most upsetting thing about the entire situation was Felicity’s young age. She was only fifteen. And this husband of hers was already a captain of some sort? How old was this man? And what sort of man took advantage of a young, starry-eyed miss?

~ 4 ~

Luke was more determined than ever to have Juliet. She was truly one of the most delightful women he’d ever met, and he’d met many. She had already captured his interest and intrigued him with her beauty and spirit, but now, after having held her in his arms and kissed her, he could hardly wait to take the next step.

Before he could concentrate on that, he had to take care of something else. William Haywood needed to be dealt with.

So, after acquiring all the pertinent information about the Clarkes and their finances, Luke wasted no time in trying to track down Will. The sooner he got this thing over with, the sooner he could refocus his attentions where he wanted them—on Juliet. Since the young baron wasn’t at his apartments, Luke began a methodical search across Town. He started with the brothels that Will frequented, but to no avail. Not even Sarah had seen him. So, he moved on to the gaming hells. At his second stop, he got lucky and stumbled across Haywood playing hazard in a small establishment right off of King Street.

Unfortunately, Will had not been so lucky and seemed to be down a few dozen quid. Luke lazily draped his arm across his friend’s shoulders and shook his head. “Sweet Lucifer, Will, what are you doing here?”

Will looked at him as if the reason was as plain as the nose on his face. “Trying to win a fortune. What does it look like?”

“It looks like your down, mon ami. And you don’t have much else to lose,” Luke added quietly.

Will shrugged. “If worse comes to worst I can still sell off my stables and get by another few months. I was hoping to get them up and running, but…”

It was pointless to try and talk sense into Haywood. They’d had this discussion more than once. Will was always convinced that his luck was just about to turn around, and he could save everything without having to sell his soul in marriage. However, luck was perennially elusive for the baron, always winning just enough to keep his head above water, but never enough to pull himself out of the hole completely.

“Look, Will, we need to have a talk.”

They fell into two seats at the back of the small gaming room and ordered a couple glasses of whiskey. As the amber liquid flowed smoothly down his throat, Luke sat back in his chair. “About Lady Juliet…” he slowly began, hoping his friend wouldn’t make this more difficult than it had to be.

Will sat forward, expectantly. “Have you figured out what I need to do?”

In a manner of speaking. Luke nodded. “Indeed. You need to focus your attentions on Miss Susan Clarke, instead.”

“Susan who?” Will asked in confusion, his boyish face scrunched up in a scowl. “But Lady Juliet—”

“Will not have you, and you’re wasting valuable time on her. Miss Clarke is a better prospect for you.”

Luke went on to explain in detail about Miss Clarke. She was the only child of Thomas Clarke, a self-made man in trade. Her mother was the daughter of a viscount and at the time had married well beneath her station. For years, Mr. Clarke had been trying to prove himself worthy of his wife’s family. The true feather in his cap would be a marriage for his daughter into the peerage.

Will listened to everything Luke had to say, though honestly, he looked a bit dumbfounded by the whole thing. Finally he spoke. “But I don’t even know Miss Clarke.”

At that, Luke grinned. “My dear William, that is easily rectified. I have it on the highest authority that Miss Clarke will be attending the Danbury Fete tonight, and I’ve acquired invitations for both of us. My cousin, Livvie, can arrange for an introduction. She knows everyone. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Miss Clarke is a great lover of the theatre. Best to have common interests, if nothing else—or so I’m told.”

“Why?” Will asked with a furrowed his brow. Then he tipped his glass back and downed the rest of his whiskey.

Luke tried not to laugh. “Because, you dolt, if you marry the girl you’ll be living with her for the rest of your life. You may as well get a companion out of the deal.”

With a deflated shrug, Will glanced back toward the hazard table. “If she has all the money you say she does, I don’t know why I’d have to live with her at all.”

And he’d thought Juliet was mercenary? “William, there is one more important note I forgot to mention about Miss Clarke.”

“Oh? And what’s that? Has she only got one leg, or a third eye, or something?”

Luke shook his head and pushed his empty glass to the middle of the table. “Her father wants her to have a happy marriage. So, if I were you, I would lose the smug attitude and try to figure out how to be as charming as possible. She’s not as cool as Lady Juliet, but your title alone won’t snare the chit—or her father.”

Will looked aghast at the happy marriage comment and fell back into his seat with a thud. His luck had gone from bad to worse.

***

Across town in her father’s rented townhouse, chills raced across Susan Clarke’s body and she shuddered involuntarily. “How strange.”

“What is, darling?” her mother asked as she gracefully entered the parlor.

Susan wished that she could do anything gracefully, but she was a far cry from her mother. Though she had her mother’s slender form, black hair, and aristocratic nose, their similarities were only skin deep. Susan was her father’s daughter and, like her father, she was struggling hard to fit into a world in which she didn’t belong.

“Nothing, Mama. Just a feeling.”

“You and your feelings, Susan,” her mother remarked with a dismissive shake of her head. “I hope you’re not going to try and wriggle out of another social event. Your father is expecting you to attend the Danbury Fete tonight with no complaints.”

Susan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The Danbury Fete. That meant the pretty and sophisticated Olivia Danbury and her perfect friends would be present, and Susan had no wish to be compared to them. Besides… “But, Mama, you said that we could go to Drury Lane tonight.”

Her mother sighed, folded her arms across her chest, and narrowed her icy blue eyes on Susan. “We are going to the Danbury Fete, and I wouldn’t push your father were I you.”

Susan cringed. She’d so had her heart set on Drury Lane, and now she’d have to rub shoulders with Olivia Danbury, Cordelia Avery, and Henrietta Babbitt. That was sure to be complete torture. Susan would be surprised if a more silly trio existed in all of England. She was certain that the men normally swarming around them didn’t have pound-signs floating in their minds.

She hung her shoulders in defeat. Once her parents had their minds set on something, there was no convincing them otherwise. She’d just have to make do and find some solitary corner to hide in.

***

The Danbury Fete was, indeed, a crush. There simply wasn’t another word for the event. Members of society were stuffed into every conceivable corner of the townhouse. Luke was certain his Aunt Jane would be thrilled with the success of her little gala.

After depositing Will in the game room, Luke went in search of his cousin, Olivia, all the while keeping an eye out for Juliet. How he would love to bump into her here, perhaps steal another kiss—but so far no luck.

He fared better in his search for Livvie. His young cousin, adorned in a sparkling white dress, was entertaining several friends near the refreshment table in the drawing room. Livvie was a clever girl, and Luke had always enjoyed her quick wit, which apparently those in her party also appreciated, as they were laughing at something his cousin had just uttered. Though Luke generally avoided the marriage mart like the plague, even he had heard mention of Livvie in his clubs. Though it was just her debut season, she apparently was taking London by storm.

Olivia’s thick, auburn hair was knotted and curled over one shoulder and her intelligent, hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, just like Caroline’s did whenever she was up to no good. This was not the first time Luke had thought how similar Olivia was to Caroline—the men of London should proceed with caution in her presence. But he was family, and therefore immune to Livvie’s charms.

With a lazy saunter, Luke approached Livvie’s group and easily caught her attention. Olivia smiled broadly, revealing a charming dimple in her left cheek. “Lucas! Whatever are you doing here?”

He greeted her with a wink and then a quick peck on the cheek. “Aunt Jane does invite me to these sorts of things, Olivia.”

“Of course she does. Mama just never expects you to attend.” She grinned devilishly at him. “I believe she is under the impression that you’re always off doing something a bit more wicked.”

Luke smirked at that. Leave it to Livvie to cut to the chase. “Wicked? You’ve deeply wounded me, cousin. I am the picture of propriety.”

With an engaging laugh, Livvie squeezed his hand. “Oh, I am so glad to hear that you’ve turned over a new leaf, Luke.”

The little minx.

“Livvie, may I pull you away from your guests for a moment?”

Olivia glanced at her friends and then nodded her head, following Luke into the adjacent music room. “This must be important, for you to actually attend Mama’s fete.”

There was no use in beating around the bush with Olivia. It was best to just ask for exactly what he wanted. “I need an introduction, Livvie, and I’d prefer not to bring it to the attention of Aunt Jane.” His aunt would only tell Caroline, and then everything would be much more difficult.

Livvie nodded in understanding. It was so good to have relations that were helpful. “Who do you want to meet, Luke?”

“I need you to introduce Lord Haywood to Miss Susan Clarke. I don’t know the young lady myself.”

“Well, I should think not,” Livvie remarked as she bit her lip. “Miss Clarke is a bit shy, not your usual sort. She’s a wallflower, for lack of a better term. What is it Lord Haywood wants with her? Love you as I do, even I’m not up to throwing young virgins to the wolves.”

Luke couldn’t help but grin. Olivia always sounded older than her years would indicate. “You’d best watch your tongue, Livvie, just in case Aunt Jane is about. But if you must know, if things go as planned, I believe his lordship will offer to marry Miss Clarke. Does that ease your troubled mind?”

She winked at him. “I believe that will do. Gather Lord Haywood and meet me back in the drawing room in ten minutes.”

Luke started back toward the gaming room, only to find Haywood glued to his seat and absorbed in a game of piquet opposite the notoriously lucky Marquess of Astwick, a large, hulking giant of a man who never lost at cards. Haywood really did have the worst sort of luck when in it came to gambling. No one played against the affable marquess—no one sober, anyway.

“Chet.” Luke nodded to Haywood’s opponent in greeting. As an old friend of the family, he had known Astwick most of his life.

The large marquess leaned back in his seat and smirked at him. “Lucas Beckford! As I live and breathe. Didn’t know you were still alive.”

“Alive and well. Sorry to disappoint you, old man,” Luke replied evenly.

Astwick’s light green eyes danced with merriment and he chuckled loudly—Astwick did everything loudly. “So I see. I’m sure Masten will be relieved.”

At the mention of his older brother, Luke grimaced. He generally preferred not to talk to or about Robert, as such conversations tended to leave him a headache. Besides he needed to extract Haywood from Astwick’s clutches to meet Miss Clarke. Time was of the essence. “Chet, I need to steal your opponent, as he’s needed in the drawing room.”

Astwick furrowed his brow. “You can have him when I’m finished with him.”

“Come now. He’ll write you a marker for whatever he owes you, and you can settle up later.” It wasn’t even possible that Will had been winning.

Astwick guffawed. “It’s not the settling, Luke, it’s the challenge of winning.”

Luke sighed and leaned toward the large marquess. “Truly, there’s no challenge here. Take the young whelp’s vowels and find yourself a more worthy opponent.”

With a suspicious grin, Astwick sat back in his seat, his arms folded across his massive chest. “What are you up to? Knowing you it can’t be good.”

Exasperated, Luke dropped into an empty seat at the table and rubbed his brow. “You’re so tiring, Astwick. If you must know…”

“Oh, I must,” the marquess insisted cheerfully.

“I’ve arranged for Haywood to be introduced to a young lady.”

Will groaned to his left. Though Luke ignored the sound, Astwick did not. With raised eyebrows, the marquess smirked at Haywood. “You sound as excited about the prospect as I would be. So what’s it to be, Haywood? Piquet or women?”

Luke turned his attention to his young friend and remarked meaningfully, “Miss Clarke awaits, Will.”

Will nodded, unenthusiastically. “Duty calls, I’m afraid, Astwick.”

Luke was certain the marquess’ booming laugh could be heard five miles away. Astwick motioned for Will to stand. “Go on then. Meet your fate, Haywood. Perhaps the young lady will have more mercy on you than I would have.” Though to let Will leave the table unscathed had been merciful enough.

Will scrambled to his feet, while Luke slowly stood. “Until next time, Chet.”

Astwick pushed his cards to the middle of the table and grinned at Luke. “Arranging for introductions to young ladies? And I thought Caroline was the matchmaker in your family.”

Luke shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

***

These sorts of events were exceedingly painful, at least in Susan’s mind. The upper crust of London’s society sitting together, drinking together, and trying to determine which of them was the cleverest. She couldn’t care at all about any of it. They were all false and disingenuous in her opinion, but Papa was determined that she make a good match for herself. And if he got his way, she could look forward to evenings like this for the rest of her days. What a depressing thought, indeed.

As she was bumped into and nearly knocked to the floor by one esteemed member of the ton or another, Susan tried to find a safe place to stay out of the way until her parents were ready to return home. She had just managed to find a nice, quiet chair in the library when the sickeningly perfect Olivia Danbury happened upon her.

“Miss Clarke!” Olivia smiled at her. “You can’t be off hiding in the library. You must come with me instead. There’s a group of us in the drawing room.”

Susan couldn’t imagine what would make this year’s Incomparable suddenly wish to be her friend. It wasn’t that Olivia was ever unkind to her, on the contrary she was always quite friendly. But Olivia, in Susan’s opinion, was silly and associated with silly people. Though a part of her wished she could be more like the popular Miss Danbury and her friends—more self-assured and confident. Carefree.

Susan was none of those things.

“It’s a bit loud in there, Miss Danbury,” Susan responded with a slight frown that she hoped would scare off the other debutant.

But Olivia easily pulled Susan out of the chair and onto her feet. “It’s supposed to be loud. It’s a party.” Then she linked her arm with Susan’s, smiled, and began to direct her toward the drawing room. “I hope you haven’t been sitting all alone for too long.”

In no time, they’d reached a group near the refreshment table in the drawing room. Susan recognized many of the faces. There, of course, were Olivia’s two perfect best friends—Henrietta Babbitt and Cordelia Avery. There were also several young men, some Susan recognized but more that she did not. Her face began to flush with embarrassment, as she discovered that all eyes were on her. She did not fit in with this group, and she wished that Olivia Danbury had left her to rot in the library alone.

“Miss Clarke,” Cordelia Avery smiled warmly, “how wonderful to see you. Do you know everyone?”

Susan couldn’t quite find her voice to speak, so she shook her head instead, barely managing to meet Miss Avery’s eyes.

“Let me do the honors, then, Miss Clarke,” Olivia remarked gracefully. Then she began to rattle off names of one gentleman, then another, and another. “And finally, this is my dear cousin, Mr. Beckford, and Lord Haywood.”

The last two gentlemen were quite striking, indeed, especially as they looked so different from each other. They were by far the most handsome in the bunch.  But while Mr. Beckford was golden-haired and had a reckless air about him, Lord Haywood was younger, more boyish with dark locks that nearly matched hers. She curtseyed and smiled at the gentlemen. “Pleasure.”

Lord Haywood hesitated, only briefly, before he offered Susan his arm. “Miss Clarke, would you care to take a turn about the room with me?”

Susan’s heartbeat quickened, but she managed to nod her head. She only hoped that she could find her voice and not make a cake out of herself.

It then took less than two minutes for Susan to completely lose her heart to Lord Haywood. He wasn’t like any of the usual gentlemen she associated with. He seemed so confident and self-assured.

“Beckford had to drag me here tonight,” the handsome baron admitted after they’d left the large and boisterous group.

He hadn’t wanted to attend either? Susan found his honesty most refreshing. How many times had she listened to society’s darlings simply say what was expected of them?

Lord Haywood continued softly, “I’d been set for an evening at the theatre, but now…”

“The theatre?” Susan asked in awe and her eyes flew to his. “I was supposed to attend Drury Lane this evening before my plans changed.”

The handsome Lord Haywood’s dark eyes twinkled. “Much Ado About Nothing? That’s where I was headed. Perhaps, Miss Clarke, we were destined to meet in one place or another.”

Could that possibly be true? What a happy thought. “Do you like Shakespeare, my lord?”

“Indeed,” he responded with an easy smile. “Though I do prefer his tragedies. Much more true to life, don’t you think?”

She smiled at that. “That must be why I prefer his comedies—they’re an escape from real life.”

***

Luke watched Will and Miss Clarke stroll around the Danbury drawing room, heads tilted together in what appeared to be a deep conversation. He felt quite satisfied with his effort so far, and he was surprisingly pleased with Miss Clarke, though she seemed shy. She was a pretty little thing. Besides, Will was an abysmal actor and, despite his reluctance to meet the girl, he did appear to be enjoying his conversation with Miss Clarke. So, perhaps this match was all for the best.

Truthfully, the entire situation couldn’t have worked out any better than he’d hoped. Well, he could have stumbled upon Juliet before now, but…

Where was Juliet?

Certainly, she’d been invited, and he had told her he’d be in attendance. She should be here. He’d so looked forward to beating off her bevy of suitors, starting with his aunt’s fete.

“Livvie,” he said, interrupting his cousin in the middle of giggling at something a young army major had said. “Have you seen either Lady Juliet St. Claire or Lady Teynham this evening?”

Olivia’s intelligent hazel eyes focused on him. “You need another introduction, Lucas?”

With a raised brow, he looked his cousin up and down. “I am perfectly well acquainted with both ladies. Thank you very much.”

She cocked her head and grinned, as though she knew exactly how well acquainted he’d like to be with one or both ladies. Damn! He had nearly forgotten that Livvie was as perceptive as Caroline. He now needed to be careful around her as well.

“Lucas is intimately familiar with most of London’s beautiful women, aren’t you, darling?” came a voice from behind him—a voice he could go forever without hearing ever again.

Luke turned around to face Louisa Ridgemont with a darkening scowl. “My lady, I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation…especially in front of my young cousin.”

But Louisa merely smirked. “Then perhaps we should have it somewhere in private.”

Over his dead body. “Perhaps I should have it with Ridgemont instead,” he bit out.

She didn’t even flinch, just quirked up her dainty little eyebrow mockingly. “I don’t know why you’d want to involve him now, darling. Or have your perversions changed since we last met?”

He was going to kill her. How dare she say such a thing in front of Olivia and her friends? Louisa was getting more and more out of control. He grabbed her arm in his hand and dragged her roughly through the drawing room, down the main hallway, and out the front door. He didn’t stop until they were far from view of the Danbury entrance. She had giggled the entire way, and the sound made his hair stand on end.

“Where are we going, Lucas?”

Luke bent his head down, to look her directly in the eyes. “We are not going anywhere, Louisa.” He shook his finger at her. “This has got to end. I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear.”

She pouted and tried to snuggle up to him, entwining her fingers in his hair. “Darling, why must you be so harsh? I only want to make you happy, just like I used to.”

“Lady Ridgemont,” he spat out angrily, “I was never happy with you. Go back to your husband.”

Louisa backed away from him, and for the first time, her pretty face was furrowed. “We are through when I say and not before. Do keep that in mind.” Then with an angry swish of her skirts, Louisa turned on her heel and stormed back inside the Danbury townhouse.

Luke looked heavenward, hoping for some sort of divine intervention—though honestly he would be the last person deserving of such help.

~ 5 ~

Orchids first arrived at 10:00 in the morning. The next batch arrived at 10:30, and continued every half hour after that. Each one had the same note: Until I see you, Princess.

Juliet didn’t think she’d ever blushed so much in her life, especially when Georgie had raised her brows after the sixth set of flowers were placed on the table in the sitting room. “Jules, is there something you’d like to tell me? Like whom these are from, for instance?”

Juliet looked toward the large picture window on the other side of the room. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t just tell Georgie that the flowers were from Luke. If she believed the notes he’d sent, he’d be making an appearance…and then Georgie would know anyway. But for the meantime, it felt amazing to have this little secret—just something between her and her devilish scoundrel.

And how exactly did the man know that orchids were her favorite flower? She was smiling so wide thinking about it—thinking of him thinking about her—that her cheeks were starting to hurt.

She crossed the room to look out the window. From where she stood, she had a good view of Upper Brook Street below, and she leaned her head against the pane. As she thought about Luke—and he’d made sure he was never far from her thoughts, with a new set of flowers delivered every half hour—he materialized beneath her window, stepping out of his carriage with yet another bouquet of orchids in his hands. Juliet’s heart was racing a mile a minute.

She turned quickly and faced Georgie, as if she could keep her sister from learning the truth by shielding the window from Georgie’s view.

***

Luke noted, with some degree of satisfaction, that Crawford almost quirked a smile when he admitted him into Prestwick House, glancing at the orchids in his hands. The elderly butler did raise his brow when he asked, “Lady Juliet, I presume?”

“If the Lady is in,” Luke responded.

Crawford nodded his head curtly. “She asked to have you sent to the sitting room, if you made an appearance.”

Luke followed the butler down the opulent hallway, adorned with portraits of the last three Dukes of Prestwick. The previous duke was not a spectacular looking man, by any stretch of one’s imagination. He had a large nose, icy blue eyes, and receding ginger-colored hair. It appeared obvious that his attractive offspring must have acquired their good looks from each of their respective mothers.

Crawford opened the sitting room doors and announced, “Mr. Beckford has arrived.”

When Luke entered the soft, blue room, he was happy to note that this room appeared to be much more comfortable than the atrocious pink parlor he’d been subjected to on his first visit. Juliet was standing guard against the large window on the other side of the room, looking positively delicious, while Georgie, with knitting needles in her hands, looked at him over the rim of wire spectacles that were half-way down her nose.

To his complete enjoyment, Juliet blushed delightfully when he stared at her. And blush she should, if she had even a clue of the plans he had for her.

“Mr. Beckford, I would say it’s a surprise, but…” She gestured to the six other grand displays of orchids adorning the room.

Georgie cleared her throat. “Well, you’ve certainly surprised me, Lucas.”

Luke tore his attention from Juliet to focus on her older sister and grinned. She was studying him, and her dark blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. He could only imagine what must be going through Georgie’s mind. “I had so hoped to see you both at the Danbury’s last night.”

“Did you, indeed? I had no idea,” Georgie replied evenly, still assessing him.

He honestly hadn’t thought he’d have a hard time getting around Georgie. She’d always been so fond of him. Though he hadn’t really thought to take Edmund up on his offer to distract the marchioness seriously, he was starting to reconsider that idea. Seeing Juliet silhouetted against the large sitting room window, he wanted so badly to hold her in his arms again. If he could just get rid of Georgie for five minutes, though he’d prefer an hour or two, he could assuage the burning need he felt when looking at his princess.

“Indeed,” he replied, though his eyes had once again found Juliet. She smiled at him, and something stirred deep inside him.

“Mr. Beckford,” Juliet stepped toward him and gestured to the settee, “please do have a seat.”

He sat and was disappointed when she chose a seat in one of the chairs opposite him. But he met her eyes as he stated, “It truly is a shame you missed the event. I had the good fortune to meet Miss Susan Clarke—quite a remarkable young woman.”

“The tea merchant’s daughter?” Georgie asked with an elitist frown.

“Precisely,” he answered, refocusing his attention on Juliet. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn that Lord Haywood found her most engaging.”

Juliet’s dark eyes sparkled, and Luke’s jaded heart leapt. Unfortunately, the next hour was uncommonly painful. His body literally ached to touch Juliet, but he had to listen to Georgie drone on and on from one inane topic to another. By the time Edmund had entered the room, lifting Luke’s hopes by tenfold, he’d had to endure hearing all about Mrs. Wilcox’s gout and Mrs. Langtry’s new ear horn. In short, the young Duke of Prestwick was the answer to Luke’s prayers.

Edmund looked from one face to another, and Luke thought he detected a devilish smile in the young duke’s blue-green eyes. “Ah, Luke, brilliant!” Edmund gushed and rushed to his side. “I do hope you haven’t been here too long.”

Too long listening to Georgie, but not long enough touching Juliet. “Afternoon, Edmund, I’ve just been enjoying your sisters’ company.”

“First names already? I had no idea the two of you were so well acquainted,” Georgie remarked softly, though she kept her cool, blue eyes focused on Edmund.

The young duke flopped down on the settee next to Luke and grinned at his oldest sister. “Oh, we get along famously. By the way, Georgie, Miss Mitford wants a word with you.”

Though Luke didn’t know who Miss Mitford was, he vowed to kiss her feet if Georgie left the room in search of her. Georgie dropped the knitting needles to a basket at her feet, scooted to the edge of the settee, and narrowed her eyes on her brother. “Miss Mitford wants a word with me? Whatever for, Edmund?”

The boy shrugged and scrunched up his face. “I don’t think she’s very happy with me.”

Georgie furrowed her brow. “Edmund.”

“I just don’t think I should have to learn history,” he pouted. “It doesn’t mean anything at all. Memorizing names and dates. I mean what’s the bloody point?”

Luke thought Georgie was going to swallow her own tongue. Her face had turned a deep shade of purple when ‘bloody’ flew out of the boy’s mouth.

She sputtered for a moment, then hardened her features and jumped to her feet. “Follow me, young man,” she said in the calmest voice she could muster—which wasn’t all that calm—and held out her hand for him.

Edmund slid off the settee and hung his head, placing his hand in Georgie’s. She towed the young duke from the room, but just before they vanished around the corner, Edmund winked at Luke with a sly grin.

Luke nearly choked. Had the young duke really sacrificed himself up so that he could have a minute alone with Juliet? Edmund had just earned the top spot on Luke’s Christmas list.

“Did my brother just wink at you?” Juliet asked in surprised awe.

Luke couldn’t help but smile at her. “He’s a brave little lad. Best not let him suffer for nothing.” He patted the empty space on the settee next to him. “Come on over, princess.”

After a quick glance toward the door Georgie and Edmund had vanished through, Juliet tilted her head coyly and smiled. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Mr. Beckford.”

Luke chuckled. She was simply adorable. For the first time that afternoon, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid, Juliet.”

She tried to suppress a smile. “Shouldn’t I be? If even half the stories about you are true, you’re a very dangerous man to be alone with, Mr. Beckford.”

“Luke,” he prompted with a grin. “Everyone else in your family calls me that, and you’re the only one I’ve sent flowers to.”

At that Juliet blushed, much to his enjoyment. How far did that delightful pink color extend? He was dying to find out. Luke patted the empty space beside him again. “Come on, princess, I promise not to bite. At least not yet.”

Juliet bit her bottom lip, as if the fate of the world depended on her decision. Then she smiled at him, left her seat, and gracefully slid into the spot next to him. “Is this where you want me?”

He wanted her a lot bloody closer than that. “It’ll do for now.” He took her hands in his, all the while keeping focus on her big brown eyes. There was just something magical about her, and being in her presence—touching her—filled him with a giddy joy.

“Thank you, Luke…for the orchids. They’re lovely,” she whispered.

Not half as lovely as she was. “I’m so glad you like them.”

“You shouldn’t have done it though.” She looked away from him. “I’ve never seen Georgie like that. She’s…” A gurgled laugh escaped Juliet’s throat. “I mean Mrs. Wilcox’s gout, for heaven’s sakes.”

Her laugh was delightful, musical to his ears. He laughed right along with her. Then he couldn’t resist touching her any longer, and he brushed his thumb against the side of her cheek. She turned at his touch to stare into his eyes, and he almost kissed her. He’d been thinking about doing such a thing, ever since his last visit to Prestwick House, but something held him back.

They sat there quietly, gazing at each other, and Luke found himself completely mesmerized by her innocent eyes and angelic smile. She was truly like no other woman he’d ever known. When she licked her lips, his eyes followed the movement and he felt like a man dying of thirst—a thirst only she could satisfy.

Very gently, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted like honey, delicious and sinfully sweet. Pure heaven. Luke groaned from the pleasure of her, and carefully trailed his hand along her side, feeling the delectable curves of her body. She sighed against his mouth and he plunged inside, tasting every inch of her.

Then he felt her hands on his chest, pushing him away. Reluctantly, he let her go. They were both breathing deeply and it took all the strength he had not to haul her onto his lap so he could plunder her some more.

But Juliet was frowning. “Why are you doing this?”

Because it was touch her or go mad from wanting it. “I can’t seem to help myself,” he replied softly as he stroked the side of her slender neck. Her skin was softer than the finest silk he’d ever touched, and he’d touched his fair share of silk. “Certainly you feel this connection that’s between us.”

She swallowed and closed her eyes. “A connection I’m certain you’ve felt with hundreds of others before I even crossed your path.”

But it wasn’t the same. This magic, this pull, this need to be with her was different than any he’d experienced before. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across the sweet softness of her neck, tasting her skin. A jolt of desire raced through him, stronger than he’d ever felt.

“Princess,” he whispered, “you’re not like anyone else.” Then he rested his forehead against hers and gazed into the chocolaty depths of her eyes. “I see who you really are, you know. The beautiful, warm woman you are inside, not the cool, indifferent one you show the rest of the world. And I’m going to take you places you’ve never dreamed of.”

A slight smile crossed her lips. “You are a dangerous man.”

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Not to you. Which event are you attending tonight?”

“The Strickland Ball.”

Perfect. He grinned wolfishly and curled a strand of her chestnut colored hair around his index finger. “I’ll escort you and Georgie.”

“I don’t know that she’ll allow that.” Juliet once again glanced toward the open doorway.

“Of course, she will. I’m courting you and she’s my sister’s dearest friend. Georgie won’t even think about saying no.”

***

“No!” Georgie stated emphatically as she paced around Juliet’s bedroom. “Absolutely not. Have you completely lost your mind, Juliet?”

Her mind? Perhaps. Her heart? Most definitely. Juliet suppressed a grin, as she stepped into the ice blue gown Ellie, her maid, had just handed her. Georgie would not appreciate the grin. Instead, she took a steadying breath while Ellie pulled the gown up to her shoulders and began buttoning the back of the dress.

“It’s nothing to get worked up about, Georgie.”

Her sister pursed her lips, making herself look quite a bit older than her twenty-seven years. “Jules,” she said in that motherly tone she adopted whenever her younger siblings did something she didn’t agree with. “We cannot attend the Strickland Ball with Lucas Beckford as an escort. People will think—”

“That he’s courting me. Which is precisely what he’s doing.”

Ellie had finished the buttons on the back of the dress and was now leading Juliet to her dressing table. The maid softly inquired, “You want your hair high, again, my lady?”

With an appreciative nod, Juliet smiled at the girl. “Yes, please.” Then she refocused her attention on her sister. “Georgie, do try to be happy for me. Let me enjoy this. He’s the first suitor I actually want to spend time with.”

“Only because you never gave any of the others a proper chance,” Georgie replied sourly as she sank onto Juliet’s mattress and rested her head against the bed post.

“Because none of the others deserved one. Much as you choose to ignore it, they weren’t after me, but obsessed with my fortune.”

Georgie muttered something unintelligible under her breath, and though Juliet didn’t hear all the words, the meaning was clear. Her sister didn’t think that Luke’s intentions were honorable. Which of course they weren’t, but she couldn’t admit such a thing to her sister, and she certainly couldn’t confide that the last thing she wanted was Luke’s honorable intentions.

Despite the fact that just being in the rogue’s presence made her heart skip a beat, she had no desire to marry him. Her feelings on that subject wouldn’t change. Not ever. There was no man on earth that could tempt her to give up her freedom, not even Lucas Beckford. How fortunate that he understood that about her, and felt the same way even.

All she wanted was to enjoy spending time with him. No worries about the future. No concerns over propriety. Just take pleasure in his company. But Georgie could never understand that, and Juliet could never explain it to her.

So, she acted as if she hadn’t heard the derisive comment and instead looked at her reflection in the mirror. Ellie had done a wonderful job. Her chestnut locks were piled high on her head, held in place by dainty pearl pins that matched the edging of her gown’s bodice. She wasn’t vain, but smiled at her image in the mirror; hoping that Luke would be pleased with her appearance.

***

Luke helped himself to a glass of brandy in the blue Prestwick parlor. Just as the beveled glass had touched his lips, the door quietly opened. Movement out of the corner of his eye, caught Luke’s attention, and turned to find Edmund standing before him with a very satisfied grin plastered across his young face. “Told you I could distract Georgie.”

With a raised brow, Luke suppressed a grin. As much as he’d appreciated Edmund’s interference earlier in the day, he had no desire for the boy to get himself into trouble. It was best not to encourage him. “I hope she wasn’t too angry with you.”

Edmund shrugged. “She’s angry with me all the time.”

Luke swallowed the brandy in his glass. “I can relate to that. My older brother was never happy with me either.”

“Really?” Edmund asked. His blue-green eyes grew round. “When did he come around?”

“Never did,” Luke answered and dropped onto the settee, Edmund right next to him. “We still don’t see eye to eye, and I doubt seriously we ever will. I wouldn’t wish that on you, Edmund. Georgie cares a great deal about you. Don’t make her angry on my behalf—though I appreciate the effort.”

Edmund seemed to think about those words for a moment, and he furrowed his brow. “I always wanted a brother. But I’ve been saddled with three sisters instead.”

Luke chuckled and patted Edmund’s back in commiseration. “My condolences. I only have but one sister, and I cannot imagine having to live with three of them.”

At that moment, the parlor doors opened and Juliet and Georgie strode inside. Luke’s mouth went dry as he rose to his feet and caught Juliet’s eye.

She was stunning. Slender shoulders peeking out of a cool, blue gown adorned in tiny pearls. Her warm, brown eyes glowed as she stared back at him, and heat spread all over his body.

Georgie politely cleared her throat, and Luke snapped out of his trance to smile at the marchioness. “Evening, Lady Teynham, Lady Juliet. Are you ready?”

~ 6 ~

Just as the trio was about to enter the Strickland’s ballroom, a stoic footman announced them. “Lady Teynham, Lady Juliet St. Claire, and Mr. Lucas Beckford.”

Juliet felt her breath catch as Luke led her into the brightly lit ballroom, her hand hooked in the crook of his arm. Not all eyes were on them, but more than enough to make her completely uncomfortable with the amount of attention. Adding to Juliet’s anxiety, Georgie had been stopped by an old friend. She found herself being towed to the middle of the dance floor where a waltz was just beginning.

She frowned up at the handsome scoundrel. “Luke, you know I never dance.”

Luke squeezed her fingers and his devilish, green eyes twinkled at her. “And I fully support that policy…with everyone except me.”

“But the others—” she started, and glanced over his shoulder at some of her usual, penniless suitors who were already waiting off to the side, their eyes glued to her.

“The others will have to go through me first, princess, and I’m not about to relinquish you.” He stopped in the middle of the room and slid his arm around her back, pulling her into the waltz, though perhaps a bit closer than was proper. But then nothing about him was proper in anyway. Not the way he looked at her. Not the way he touched her. Not the way he made her feel. She was either the luckiest girl in the room, or the biggest fool. Juliet so hoped it was the former.

Luke peered into her eyes, and Juliet’s insides melted. “You look amazing. Good enough to eat.”

“Shh,” she whispered as she felt a blush start to creep up her neck. “What if someone hears you? Are you trying to ruin me?”

Then he chuckled and towed her a bit closer to him on the turn. “Ruin you? Not quite yet, princess. Though I am looking forward to it.”

Her heart really shouldn’t have leapt at such a bold threat, and she was determined to keep such information from him. “You are quite presumptuous, Mr. Beckford. Has no one ever told you ‘no’?”

He glanced up at the ceiling, as if trying to recall if such an event had ever occurred. Then he looked down at her with a crooked grin. “Perhaps my governess, though I was just a boy. But now I’ve perfected my seduction skills, and all I’ve heard since, is, ‘Yes, Luke.’ Usually repeated over and over—breathlessly.”

Juliet giggled at that. It was highly inappropriate to do so—it was such a ribald statement. But heaven help her, she enjoyed behaving inappropriately with Luke. He made her feel completely free.

They turned again on the floor and Luke’s breath warmed her cheek and his legs brushed against the skirts of her dress. She was certain they were making a complete spectacle of themselves, and she would never hear the end of it from Georgie. If that was the case, then so be it. There was no place else Juliet wished to be.

When the last strings of the waltz ended, Luke’s fingers moved on her back and she stared up into his eyes. The desire she saw in them made her breath catch. “Come, princess.” He offered her his arm, and she allowed him to lead her back to the side of the room.

As she’d predicted, the scavengers who spent their time chasing after her started in their direction. Juliet frowned at the thought of having to converse with the pack of fortune hunters, but was surprised when Luke stroked her arm with his free hand.

“What’s wrong?”

She softened her features. “Nothing. I was just dreading the onslaught that is fast approaching us.”

Luke glanced up over her shoulder and apparently recognized the frothing pack. He immediately hardened his gaze upon the group. She’d never seen his handsome face look so cold, and she nearly shivered. “There’s nothing to worry about, princess,” he whispered so softly that she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.

Possessively, Luke tucked her closer against him and stood tall to meet the approaching men. Though he smiled at the group, no one could miss the lack of warmth in the gesture. “Gentlemen,” he drawled coolly.

“Lady Juliet,” Lord Brookfield began with his oily voice. “You look so radiant this evening. I was hoping you might honor me with a—”

“A request for refreshment?” Luke interrupted the viscount. “How thoughtful, Brookfield.” Then he looked down into Juliet’s upturned face. “My darling, would you like the viscount to fetch you a drink?”

Stunned, Brookfield’s eyes flashed to Juliet and he stuttered, “M—my lady?”

Juliet suppressed a grin as Luke possessively stroked her fingers with his free hand, making sure the four hapless gentlemen surrounding her witnessed the intimacy. She inclined her head to Brookfield. “How kind of you to offer, my lord, but I am content for the moment.”

Relief swept over Juliet as she watched Brookfield, Lord Hawley, Lord Rupert Watson, and Mr. Christopher Waring all blink in astonishment—first at Luke then at her. Quite honestly, she was a little astonished herself. Luke had promised to keep her scavengers at bay, but she never thought he’d make it quite so clear that there was something between them. And though she wasn’t quite sure her reputation could handle the insinuation, she wasn’t certain she cared at the moment.

Lord Hawley cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked across the room. “I say, there’s someone I really must speak with.” Then the penniless earl fought his way somewhere through the crowd.

The other three fortune hunters made similarly vague statements and were soon quick on his tail. Juliet turned an amused look up at Luke. “You do realize they all think there is an agreement between us now?”

Luke bent his head down and whispered in her ear, “There is an agreement between us, princess. I’ll be expecting a reward from you soon enough.”

A tingle raced across her skin in anticipation, but before she could reply to the seductive scoundrel, they were joined by two more guests.

Juliet was happy to note that Miss Clarke seemed quite content to be holding on to Lord Haywood’s arm. Though she, herself, found the foppish baron to be most annoying, it was nice that Miss Clarke enjoyed his company—it was good that someone did.

Luke smiled charmingly at the shy, black-haired beauty. “It’s so nice to see you again, Miss Clarke.”

“Luke.” Haywood acknowledged his friend with a nod and a speaking glance that Juliet couldn’t quite interpret. “What a surprise.”

“Indeed,” Luke drawled as he looked at his friend. “I was just remarking to Lady Juliet that it had been too long since you and I have had a chance to chat, Will.”

Juliet smiled coyly at the handsome devil and took a step away from him. “In that case, I’m sure Miss Clarke and I can busy ourselves.” She reached her hand toward the black-haired miss. “Come along, Miss Clarke. Let’s allow these gentleman time to catch up on their gossip.”

Miss Clarke’s light blue eyes grew round as she looked at Juliet’s proffered arm. But she shyly nodded and linked her arm with Juliet’s.

***

As Luke watched Juliet stride away from him, he was entranced by the delicate swish of her hips. He’d like nothing more than to leap on her right here. She had no idea the affect she had on him, and that was intoxicating in and of itself.

Will cleared his throat, and Luke turned his attention to his friend. “How do you like Miss Clarke?”

Both of Will’s brows were raised high in question. “You want to discuss Miss Clarke? What are you doing in polite society, Luke? And with Lady Juliet?”

Luke glanced back at Juliet, only to discover her vanishing figure slipping quickly through a side door with Miss Clarke in tow. He frowned at the sight. “I asked you first.”

Will shrugged, though he kept his eyes focused on Luke. “She’ll do. A bit common, but pleasant enough. Now answer my question.”

“A bit common?” Luke asked with a note of annoyance. Miss Clarke seemed perfectly lovely, if a bit quiet. “This from the man who knows the first names of the whores he takes to bed?”

“What are you doing with Lady Juliet?” Haywood’s voice was unwavering.

“Helping you,” Luke finally answered and kept his eyes leveled on his young friend. “In exchange for my keeping her other suitors at bay, the Ice Princess has agreed to help you secure Miss Clarke’s affections. No need to thank me.”

“Oh.” Will breathed a sigh of relief. “You had me worried. You looked like you wanted to devour her out there during your waltz. I thought maybe…”

“Well, it is supposed to look like that, isn’t it?” Luke growled, hoping his friend wouldn’t see through his façade. He had no desire to impugn Juliet’s name. After he finally had her in his bed and their friendship had run its course, he intended to leave her with her reputation intact. No one could know, not even Haywood.

Will grinned. “You truly are a good friend, Luke. I personally wouldn’t spend one more moment in the Ice Princess’ company than was absolutely necessary.”

***

Juliet led Miss Clarke toward one of the retiring rooms. The poor girl had stepped on her own dress and ripped a seam, and though it was a simple repair, she seemed nearly hysterical over the event. Miss Clarke was red-faced and holding back tears, making Juliet’s heart go out to her. She’d never seen a creature so upset over such a little thing before—not even Felicity who was notoriously emotional. “It’s all right, dear, we’ll get it fixed in a trice.”

Miss Clarke nodded sullenly, as one rebellious tear escaped her eye and trailed its way down her cheek. “What would Lord Haywood think if he saw me like this?” She swiped at the tear and increased her pace down the corridor.

Juliet would be surprised if the dolt was capable of rubbing two thoughts together, though she kept that to herself. “I’m certain he wouldn’t give it a second thought, Miss Clarke. Don’t fret. We’ll take care of it, and your dress will be good as new in no time.”

The girl nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you. I must seem so silly to you. It’s just that… Well, many of the gentlemen that pay court to me are mostly interested in my father’s money.” Then she flushed a bright red. “I shouldn’t have said that. My mother would kill me.”

Juliet smiled warmly. “Probably better than anyone else, I understand perfectly, Miss Clarke.”

“Susan,” the girl prompted.

“Fortune hunters have been treating me in just such a fashion since I was sixteen, Susan. I was probably your age when I decided that I could never settle on anyone who cared more about my inheritance than they did me.”

Susan looked aghast at such a sentiment, and her light blue eyes grew round. “What did your father say about that?”

Juliet snorted. “Papa was already long in his grave by then, and I don’t think my brother-in-law, who was my guardian, cared terribly much what I did as long as I stayed out of his way.” She suppressed the urge to refer to Teynham as a nasty old goat

When Juliet opened the door to the retiring room, she was glad to note it was empty. Susan could use some time alone to pull herself together, so she left her behind a changing screen and went in search of a servant to fetch a needle and thread.

In the end, the chore ended up taking a bit longer than she had anticipated. When Juliet finally returned to the retiring room, loud feminine voices filtered down the corridor. Unfortunately, the room was no longer empty.

“But did you see her?” came one snide voice.

“Stop it, Hen,” came a softer one.

“She can’t honestly think that Haywood is interested in her, but the way she looks at him…”

Juliet opened the door to find Olivia Danbury’s pretty face flushed with anger and scowling at Henrietta Babbitt. Both girls gasped when Juliet entered the small retiring room, and guilty expressions settled on both of their faces. The changing screen had been dislodged, resting haphazardly on its side against the wall.

Susan Clarke was nowhere to be seen.

Looking at the obvious signs of distress in the room, Juliet’s blood began to boil. What unkind things had these two girls said to poor, insecure Susan? And where had she run to? She smiled at them, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. She didn’t feel like being pleasant. “Where is Miss Clarke?” she demanded in a tone that befitted her station.

Olivia Danbury’s head fell forward, in what seemed like embarrassment. “We didn’t know she was there.”

“What was she hiding for, anyway? Just to eavesdrop on conversations that weren’t any of her business?” Henrietta Babbitt asked tightly.

Juliet narrowed her eyes on the infuriating chit and curtly replied, “She was obviously trying to avoid vicious harpies. How unfortunate for her that you stumbled across her anyway.” Then she turned on her heel and started back down the corridor.

She had just turned the corner when Olivia Danbury’s voice called after her. “Lady Juliet, please wait.”

Still fuming, Juliet stopped in her tracks and glared at the pretty young girl. “Yes, Miss Danbury?”

To her credit, Olivia blanched under Juliet’s disdainful eye. “Honestly, we didn’t know she was there.”

“And that is supposed to make it better?” Juliet asked tartly.

Olivia shook her head. “Of course not. Hen…Henrietta fancied Haywood herself, is all, and—”

“It’s certainly not Miss Clarke’s fault that Haywood has sought out her company.” Actually, it was Juliet’s fault. She was the one who had suggested the girl in the first place. She hated to feel guilty, and she was currently awash in the emotion.

She was surprised when Olivia met her eyes, concern etched in hers. “Of course not. It’s my fault. I introduced them. Come on, sometimes she hides in libraries.”

And the library was precisely where they found her, in a secluded corner, mopping her tears with a fairly damp lace handkerchief. Juliet and Olivia exchanged concerned looks as they settled into seats on either side of Susan.

With red, puffy eyes, Susan avoided looking at Olivia and focused on Juliet. “Did you know that Lord Haywood was a fortune hunter?”

Juliet glanced at Olivia who cringed and shrugged uncomfortably. Then she met Susan’s eyes and nodded sincerely. “Yes.”

Susan frowned and looked back down at her hands. “I thought he liked me. Foolish, aren’t I?”

That was a feeling Juliet was all too familiar with, and her heart ached for poor Susan. She had been just a girl herself when she’d first come to terms with the fact that she only represented monetary security to men, that they felt her only purpose in life was to fill their coffers. Even so, her desire to never marry was fairly unorthodox and not for everyone. “I don’t think you’re foolish in the least. And forget about what he likes or wants. What do you want, Susan? Do you want to be a wife?”

Susan dabbed at her eyes again and nodded her head. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”

With a wistful smile, Juliet chose to treat that question as if it were rhetorical. “Very well. You would like to get married. I’m just going to speak plainly, Susan. Try not to take offense.” After the girl nodded solemnly, Juliet continued. “Your father is in trade. That is a fact that is unchangeable. My understanding is that he wishes for you to marry a man with a title.” Again, Susan nodded. “Men of the peerage are not going to marry a tradesman’s daughter if their funds are in order. They don’t have to. But men like Lord Haywood who need an injection of money will clamor at your doorstep. In addition to being an heiress, Susan, you are quite beautiful.”

“Th—thank you.”

Juliet patted her hand. The girl was so naïve, and playing a game intended for wolves. She needed some advice. “Speaking from the experience of those around me, marriage is not something to be taken lightly. It lasts forever, or at least until one of you dies. So choose wisely. If you like Lord Haywood, I am certain that he is preparing to offer for you. He can be yours, if you want him. But that is something you will have to decide on your own.”

Susan shook her head and chanced a glance at Olivia. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never be accepted.”

Juliet scoffed and took Susan’s slender hand in hers. “Don’t waste any time or energy on women like Miss Babbitt. They’re not worth it. Someday, probably sooner rather than later, you’ll be a baroness or a countess or whatever you decide, and you’ll have much more important things to worry about than the opinions of the Miss Babbitts of the world.”

Olivia scooted to the edge of her seat and smiled weakly at Susan. “I am so terribly sorry for what you overheard. I feel just awful. I do hope you don’t think I believe any of those things.”

***

Luke had just gone in search of Juliet. She’d been gone far too long for his comfort. But as soon as he stepped through the doorway he’d seen her disappear through more than an hour earlier, she rounded the corner and he spotted her.

She looked tired.

Luke reached her side and settled his arm around her waist. “What’s wrong, princess? Where’ve you been? I’ve actually had to chat with my Aunt Jane.” He made a sour face.

Juliet shook her head and then stared up at him. “Would you find Georgie? It’s been a very trying night. I’d very much like to go home.”

Of course,” he replied and his hand slid gently up her spine. “If that’s what you want.” She seemed exhausted and he wrapped his arms around her, offering his strength.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she muttered into his cravat, though she didn’t push him away. “What if someone were to see?”

He brushed his lips across the top of her forehead. “I’d tell them to mind their own bloody business.”

Luke was relieved when she giggled at that. “It’s amazing you’re received anywhere, you know.”

Gently he touched the side of her jaw, never removing his eyes from hers. “Go and collect yours and Georgie’s wraps, princess. I’ll gather her up and meet you out front.”

~ 7 ~

As soon as her ancient butler informed her that Lady Teynham was awaiting her in the white parlor, Caroline Staveley made her way to the room. She hated being sick, and she’d felt completely deprived of the glitz and glamour she was normally accustomed to.

It soon became apparent that this was not any normal social call. Caroline didn’t think she’d ever seen Georgie look so distraught. Of course she also hadn’t seen Georgie during the years of her unhappy marriage to Teynham, so it was possible she had been more distraught then than she was at this moment, but Caroline would never know. “Darling, sit down. Whatever it is can’t be all that bad.”

At this command, Georgie fell onto the plush chaise, sighed heavily, and frowned. “Oh, Caroline, I don’t know what to do.”

Caroline took the spot next to Georgie and clasped her hands in her own. It was about time she had something to do other than laying around with the sniffles, and nothing pleased her more than of being of service to those she loved. “Start at the beginning, darling. We’ll sort it out, whatever it is.”

Georgie’s pained look only intensified. “We heard from Felicity a few days ago.”

That should have been good news. Georgie had been worried about her youngest sister visiting her American cousins, and the young girl was far from a regular correspondent. Several months had gone by without word from the girl. “That must have put your mind at ease, somewhat.”

But Georgie shook her head. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

As she tended to do when things were quiet, Caroline filled the empty space with her own words. “You mustn’t spend too much time worrying about the possibility of war with the Americans. Staveley says it would be a mistake to engage them, as we’re so heavily involved with the French.”

Georgie’s expression flashed to horror. “Heavens, Caro, I hadn’t even considered war with America.”

Oh, dear. She probably shouldn’t have mentioned it then. Caroline winced at her own stupidity. Being ill had left her sadly out of practice. “Pay me no attention then. I’m sure I don’t know what I’m talking about.” She was determined not to make that mistake again. Best to find out what the problem was before she opened her big mouth. “What did Felicity say?” she asked cheerfully.

Georgie sagged against the back of the chaise hopelessly. “She’s gotten married.”

“Married?” Caroline asked in surprise. The girl was quite young. “How old is she? Thirteen?”

“Fifteen,” Georgie answered on a sigh.

“Well, that’s not unheard of,” Caroline supplied helpfully. After all, she had been a bride when she was barely sixteen. “It’s a bit young, but…”

Georgie shook her head. “She’s an immature fifteen. Certainly not ready for marriage. I can’t believe those people let her do this.”

Caroline knew that those people meant the American cousins Felicity was supposed to be staying with. Georgie had had reservations about letting her youngest sister cross the Atlantic, but Felicity had begged for the opportunity to get to know the other side of her family.

Caroline said nothing in response and just squeezed Georgie’s hand.

“And that’s had me rethinking the whole Carraway thing for Edmund.”

Lord Carraway was Edmund’s uncle, on his mother’s side. Recently he’d been asked to make an excursion to India on behalf of the British government. Caroline didn’t know the exact details of the assignment, but she did know that Lord Carraway had asked to take Edmund with him on the trip and that Georgie had supported the idea. But the situation wasn’t the same as Felicity’s. Besides, Caroline was fairly certain Lord Carraway would never do anything to upset Georgie. “Well, darling, I seriously doubt that Carraway would let his nine-year-old nephew marry an Indian princess or something like that.”

That brought a ghost of a smile to Georgie’s pained face. “Of course not. I desperately think Edmund would grow from the experience. The poor boy has had nothing but abysmal male role models in the form of our father and then Teynham, and he lives in a house full of sisters. Juliet babies him terribly. I was so hoping the experience with Carraway would help him mature a little.”

Caroline smiled warmly at her friend. Georgie had never been blessed with children of her own, and she was much more of a mother to her siblings than a sister. “Well, if you think the experience would be good for him and you trust Carraway, I think you should let him go.”

“Well, thank you.” Georgie smiled back. “But that’s actually not why I came to see you.”

“Oh?” Caroline raised her brow.

Georgie’s expression hardened a bit. She took a deep breath, and then words began to fly from her mouth. “He’s your brother and you love him. I understand that. You know I’ve always been fond of him myself, but Juliet’s my sister and—”

“Dear heavens, Georgie, what has Luke done?” Caroline’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t even imagine what would have Georgie so upset. It must be truly awful. Blast her reprobate of a brother.

Her friend stared at her incredulously. “He’s courting her.”

Courting her? Caroline tried not to laugh. That was the most preposterous thing she’d heard of in…well, in a very long time. Especially, since she knew that the lout was conspiring to help Lord Haywood win Juliet’s hand and fortune. “Perhaps you’ve just misunderstood.”

A gurgled laugh escaped Georgie’s throat. “I sincerely doubt that. He called on her a few days ago. And then yesterday, Prestwick House was overrun with orchids, and—”

“Orchids?” Caroline echoed softly. Memories of the last conversation she had with her brother rang in her mind.

“Yes. Every half hour another arrangement arrived, and she wouldn’t tell me who they were from. Which, by the way, isn’t like her at all. I’ve never known her to keep secrets. And then finally Luke arrived himself, with yet another bouquet of orchids in hand. Then he returned later in the evening to escort us to the Stricklands’.”

“Did he really?” Caroline couldn’t remember ever being so elated. The lout. Did he really think she wouldn’t find out about this? That she wouldn’t be able to put two and two together? She was nearly bursting at the seams she was so excited. Lucas was courting a proper girl—the first one ever, as far as she knew. And he’d come to her for inside information not for Haywood, but for himself. She should have been put out that he didn’t trust her, but she was just too excited to be angry with him

“You don’t have to look so happy about it,” Georgie muttered sourly.

Caroline wiped the smile off her face. “Does she welcome his suit?” It would be God’s cruel irony if the one proper girl Luke was interested in rebuffed his attentions.

Georgie pursed her lips. “What do you think? She’s floating around Prestwick House in a daze. Caroline, you need to put an end to this. I don’t know how, but…”

This was perfect. Juliet welcomed his suit. Caroline’s heart was pounding happily. She’d long ago given up hope that her rogue of a brother would find a proper girl. Domestic bliss was in reach for Luke, of all people! She had to refrain herself from leaping off the chaise and dancing for joy. She turned exuberant eyes on her friend. “Georgie, this is a very good thing.”

Georgie furrowed her brow and sat bolt upright. “I don’t know how you can sit there and say that. I know he’s your brother, Caroline, but, well, do you have any idea of the path of destruction he’s left in his wake? Louisa has been sobbing on my shoulder for the last fortnight over him.”

Caroline tried to suppress a snort, but failed miserably. At Georgie’s astonished look, Caroline shrugged. “Hardly the same thing, darling. Louisa is a married woman who knew exactly what she was getting herself into.”

Precisely my point. Juliet is naïve about this sort of thing. She can’t handle Lucas. There are only so many conversations I can have about my sister-in-law’s gout.”

That made exactly no sense to Caroline whatsoever, and she scrunched up her face, thinking she must have misheard her friend. “Your sister-in-law’s gout?”

Georgie actually blushed. “Well, I couldn’t let the blackguard be alone with her, could I? So I sat there with them for close to two hours, chattering away like a ninny about the most inane topics I could think of.”

“Like Mrs. Wilcox’s gout?” Caroline asked with a giggle. Poor Luke. He must truly be enamored with Juliet to sit through such a thing.

“Well, it’s hardly a laughing matter. I couldn’t think up what else to talk about that might make him leave.”

Caroline frowned. For this whole Luke-living-in-domestic-bliss thing to work out, she’d need Georgie’s support. So would he for that matter. “Darling, listen to me. Never, in his life has Lucas ever even thought about courting a nice girl. Now, just listen,” she pleaded when Georgie started to scowl. “If Juliet has turned his head, and she welcomes his attention in return, we should support this. How many times have you complained to me about Juliet’s coolness toward her suitors? So, without judging Luke’s past, just forget all of that for the moment. The question you should be asking yourself is, ‘Can he make her happy?’”

“Of course he can.” Georgie’s frown deepened. “The question is for how long? And that’s not even half the problem…”

***

After a rather eventful morning, Caroline arrived at Luke’s rooms in Piccadilly, determined to get a read on her brother. If he was in any way serious about Juliet, she would do everything in her power to help him out—even if he didn’t ask for or want her help. She found that men, her two brothers most definitely included, didn’t know what was best for them, which was interesting, as she always knew what they needed. Therefore, she felt it was her duty to help them find their way. Very obliging of her really.

She pounded loudly on Luke’s door. It was after four in the afternoon. Hopefully the man was home. Actually, he should have some help to answer the door, she thought as she looked around the hallway. Though Luke’s rooms were well-appointed and in proportion to those lived in by other affluent gentlemen, she made a mental note to have Juliet insist he purchase a townhouse in Mayfair—after they were married, of course.

Finally, the door opened and Luke stood before her, wearing only a red silk robe and a scowl. “Why the devil are you pounding on my door?”

She raked her gaze over him, and quirked up one amused eyebrow. “I have no idea how the women of London can find you charming. I’ve never seen any evidence of it myself. Now are you going to invite me in? Or do you already have company?”

***

The very last thing Luke wanted today was to deal with Caroline. He’d spent a restless night with images of Juliet floating through his head, which was fine. He rather enjoyed that actually, but since he hadn’t slept well all night, he was trying to make up for it during daylight hours.

Besides, seeing Caroline on his threshold couldn’t mean anything good. One thing was certain, however. He couldn’t leave his little sister standing outside his rooms. So, he turned to the side and gestured for her to enter his sanctuary. “Lady Staveley.”

She made a harrumphing sound as she stepped past him into his abode. “Lucas, what are you doing at this time of day dressed like that?”

Little sisters truly were the most aggravating of all living creatures. “What do you want, Caroline?”

“I want to know,” she began as she flounced down in one of his overstuffed leather chairs, “how big a fool you think I am.”

There were a million different ways he wanted to answer that question, but couldn’t think of any that wouldn’t get him castrated. He smirked to himself and lazily leaned against the nearest wall. “That’s a dangerous question to answer.”

Her eyebrows shot up haughtily. “Did you think that because I was under the weather, I wouldn’t find out what you were doing? Did you honestly think that people wouldn’t tell me? I’ve been bombarded by visitors all morning long, Lucas, starting with Georgie and ending with Lady Strickland.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Truthfully, he should have been expecting this interview, prepared for it. For a brief moment he considered telling Caroline everything—that Juliet made his pulse race; that he was completely enamored with her in every way; that he was anxiously biding his time until he could seduce her, make her his. Well, he considered telling his sister everything except for that last part. Caroline wouldn’t appreciate that, and for the second time that day images of castration at the hands of his sister entered his mind—never the best way to start the day.

Instead, he decided to stick with the same line he had told Haywood. He’d learned early on, if you’re going to be untruthful, it’s best to keep to the same story as it makes life less complicated. “I presume you’re asking me in a rather roundabout way about Lady Juliet?”

“Of course I am.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “I’ve heard tales from Georgie about Prestwick House being overrun with orchids. Aunt Jane reported that you were in an altogether foul mood after you’d misplaced Juliet—though how you managed that I have no idea. And Lady Strickland was appalled with your incredibly scandalous waltz last night.” She narrowed her eyes on him even more, and he knew she was trying to get a reaction from him. “I assured her that your actions could be attributed to not spending enough time in polite society over the last few years and not a lack of breeding on your part. Honestly, darling, your ill-mannered behavior reflects poorly on me, you know.”

It seemed as if her tirade had come to an end. Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “Tell them what you wish, Caroline. I really couldn’t care less. I’ve made a bargain with Lady Juliet and I intend to keep it.”

Caroline’s eyes widened in surprise, and Luke resisted the urge to grin. She obviously hadn’t expected that, and he’d always loved to throw her off balance.

“What do you mean, bargain?” she asked warily.

Luke raked a hand through his hair and pushed himself away from the wall, then dropped into the room’s other leather chair across from his sister. “I promised her that I’d get rid of her fortune hunting suitors, Haywood included. So, it’s got to look like I’m courting her. I expect you to keep this a secret, since Juliet doesn’t want Georgie to know.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

He couldn’t help but smirk. It was the same question that Juliet had asked him. Caroline would get a different answer. “She’s promised to help Haywood win Miss Susan Clarke’s affections.”

“The tea merchant’s daughter?” Caroline asked, suspicion evident in her voice.

“Indeed. Juliet thought they might suit.”

She was studying him again, and Luke squirmed in his seat against his will. He expected Caroline to say something, not just stare at him with those inquisitive, hazel eyes of hers. Finally, she sat tall and furrowed her brow. “And this bargain of yours, did it include completely ruining Juliet’s reputation?”

Luke felt all of his muscles tense at her words. “Of course not.”

Then you might want to pull back a bit, darling. All morning long, Prestwick House has been under siege from every rake and lothario within a five mile radius of Mayfair. Apparently, they all think that if Lady Juliet’s caught your eye, then she must have attributes they hadn’t noticed before—including indiscriminate taste. By the way, Georgie is very unhappy with this new crop of suitors.”

It took every bit of self-control Luke had not to fly out of his chair, throw on the first set of clothes he saw, and storm over to Prestwick House. The idea that London’s rakes had targeted Juliet because of him made his stomach turn. She was to be his. But he sat rigid, and managed to shrug. Showing a weakness in front of Caroline was tantamount to surrender. “Juliet is certainly capable of dismissing them as she sees fit.” He was going to personally strangle any man that touched her.

Without any warning, Caroline stood up and started for the door. “Very well, Lucas. Do try to behave a bit better in public and play nice. I’d hate for you to end up breaking the poor girl’s heart.”

Then his sister let herself out and left him alone, quietly seething.

***

Caroline smiled all the way to her coach. Who did he think he was fooling? She’d known him all her life. He was besotted with the girl and just didn’t want her interfering. But she loved him enough to do so anyway. It was a good thing she was now feeling so much better, because she wouldn’t miss another social event if she was on her death bed. Hearing tales from others was one thing. She needed to see what was going on firsthand.

~ 8 ~

Atop his high-perch phaeton, Luke rushed over to Upper Brook Street as fast as he could with his horses’ hooves pounding against the street and adrenaline pumping in his veins. Though he was confident that Juliet could fend off fortune hunters by the droves, the rakes of London were a different breed of man altogether and his princess wasn’t accustomed to dealing with them. The only thing that made him breathe the teensiest bit easier was Georgie. She would keep the wolves of London at bay. In fact, she was turning into quite the dragon.

When Luke reached Prestwick House, his anxiety reached a new level. Flowers of one sort or another were crammed into every conceivable space in the hallway—and he couldn’t locate even one of his orchids in the bunch. Then Crawford admitted to him, under his breath, that Lady Juliet had sent nearly two dozen suitors to her pink parlor so far that day. Therefore Luke felt very fortunate that the butler was leaving him in the blue parlor.

But that relief lasted only momentarily. Before Crawford shut the door behind him, Luke noticed an impeccably dressed man standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. When the door clicked shut, the man turned around and Luke recognized him immediately.

Tall, dark haired, and handsome—Phineas Granard, Viscount Carraway, was neither a fortune hunter nor a rake. Instead, he was a well-respected politician—not Luke’s usual sort of compatriot.

What the devil was he doing here? “Carraway.” Luke nodded curtly.

“Beckford,” the viscount returned in kind.

Luke racked his mind for something to say to the nobleman that he was certain he had absolutely nothing in common with—except, perhaps, the same taste in women. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” What an incredibly trite comment to make.

Carraway quirked one dark eyebrow mockingly. “I assume you’re here to see Juliet as well.”

Juliet? Not Lady Juliet? What made Carraway think he could speak so nonchalantly about her? Luke frowned and was just about to ask, when the parlor door opened and Edmund rushed inside. He was quickly followed by a slender woman with a tight bun of dark hair streaked with grey.

“Luke, I didn’t know you were here!” Edmund exclaimed, his blue-green eyes twinkling mischievously. Then the young duke started toward him, but he stopped short when his eyes fell on Carraway and he lost his boyish exuberance. “Oh, sorry, Uncle Fin.”

Uncle Fin? Luke watched the interaction closely.

Carraway stepped forward and ruffled Edmund’s hair. “How are you today, my boy?”

Edmund smiled widely. “It’s been a madhouse here, Uncle. Unsavory men, that’s what Georgie calls them, have been pouring in all day looking for Juliet.”

Carraway flicked a quick glance at Luke before responding to his nephew. “So I noticed.” Then he turned his attention to the older woman, still standing by the door. “Miss Mitford, please let Lady Teynham know I’ll have His Grace back before dinner.”

“Of course, my lord.” The woman smiled tightly before leaving the room.

“Shall we, Edmund,” Carraway asked and motioned toward the door.

The duke smiled at his uncle and nodded. Then he turned back for one last word with Luke. “She’s prickly today. Best of luck.”

Before the boy could say more, Carraway ushered him out of the room, leaving Luke staring after them.

But he didn’t have to wait long for Juliet to appear. When she breezed into the room and shut the door firmly behind her, Luke was most relieved. His heart expanded in his chest just from seeing her. “Afternoon, princess.”

Juliet furrowed her brow as she leaned her back against the closed door. “It’s about time you got here.”

“Oh?” he stepped toward her, closing the gap between them. Then he took her hand and tugged her back toward the settee. “Did you miss me?”

She shot him an annoyed look. “I’ve been under siege all morning long. I thought you were supposed to be keeping my suitors away from me.”

Her eyes crinkled in the most delightful way, and Luke couldn’t help but smile at her. Then he dropped onto the settee and quickly pulled Juliet onto his lap. Her eyes grew round in surprise, but she didn’t attempt to remove herself, much to Luke’s delight. “I’ve been remiss, princess. Forgive me. I won’t let it happen again. But couldn’t you just have had Crawford tell them you were out?” He entwined his fingers with hers and nuzzled against her neck, inhaling her sweet, honeyed scent.

With a beleaguered sigh, Juliet leaned against him. “Poor Crawford couldn’t keep a strong wind out. And the fellow is so earnest and loyal, I can’t bring myself to replace him.”

“I’ll have a talk with him then. It would probably make Georgie rest easier.”

Juliet stared at their interlaced fingers and then tentatively caressed them with her free hand. “Georgie would rest easier if you stopped calling on me altogether.” Then she raised her gaze to his eyes. “Luke, I don’t know about all of this. I’ve been feeling incredibly guilty all day about Miss Clarke and the position that I put her in. I’m afraid that—”

“Which position is that?” he asked. Juliet’s pretty, brown eyes dropped again to their hands, and Luke couldn’t help but pull her more securely against him. He hated seeing her worried expression, and he brushed a gentle kiss against her temple. What had upset her? If he but knew, he would do whatever was in his power to fix it.

She didn’t even know Haywood was a fortune hunter. The poor girl was completely devastated last night when she found out.” Then Juliet sat up straight to meet Luke’s eyes. “But how did she not know? Why did her father not have Haywood investigated? It doesn’t make any sense at all…”

“Most likely Clarke knew about Haywood’s situation but opted not to tell his daughter.”

She furrowed her brow even more at that remark, and Luke wanted to smooth out the unhappy lines with his fingers.

“So that she’d be led to believe that the scoundrel was interested in something other than her dowry? Men!”

“Men?” he echoed with a chuckle. “We’re not all the enemy, you know.”

Juliet only responded with a raised brow, which made Luke laugh even harder. She was simply adorable, every cynical bone in her luscious body that was, at the moment, so wonderfully lounged across him. “That can’t be all. What else is bothering you, princess?”

“I suppose I’m worried about Edmund.”

“He just left with Carraway. I didn’t realize you were related.”

“We’re not. Just Edmund—his mother was Carraway’s sister, and he has always been fond of my brother. He usually dines with us most evenings. Fin even plans to take Edmund with him when he leaves for India in a little over a week.”

“India?” Luke echoed in surprise.

Juliet nodded. “Which is the cause of my worry. Edmund has never been on his own before, and he’s so young. Georgie says it will be good for him, but—”

“You disagree.”

“It’s so far away, and he’s just a boy.”

“Who also happens to be a duke, with duties and responsibilities. Georgie is most likely right.”

“You’re supposed to take my side, Luke.” She playfully smacked his chest, and he felt his pulse race from the contact.

“My mistake.” He humorously adopted a dark scowl. “I can’t believe Georgie would be so heartless. She’s obviously deranged.”

“That’s better.” Juliet giggled, and she once again rested her head against his shoulder. “And did I mention my sister got married?”

Unconsciously, Luke began to trace the edge of her bodice with his forefinger, though he kept his attention on her.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly.

Luke stilled his hand and grinned at her. “Touching you. Do go on. You said something about Georgie getting married.” He must have misheard her though. That didn’t sound right at all, but at the moment he was too preoccupied to care.

“Not Georgie. Felicity. And I certainly can’t go on while you’re touching me like that. I—it’s quite distracting.”

“Indeed?” She had no idea how distracted he could make her then. Luke moved his hand from the edge of her bodice and cupped one breast, kneading it gently with his fingers. “Is this better?” he asked with feigned innocence.

She stared at him wide-eyed and he could feel all of her muscles tense. “I…um…Luke!”

“Georgie isn’t going to burst in here on us, is she? I don’t think I could explain our current positions.” He quirked one eyebrow upward with a rakish grin.

Her breathing quickened and Luke intensified his ministrations. “N—no. She’s gone to a Charity Tea with Lady Carteret. Besides, I asked Crawford not to tell her when you visit, and as I said, he’s loyal.”

The old butler had just moved up in Luke’s estimation. HIs face broke out into a wide smile. She was already going behind Georgie’s back. It was just a matter of time before he had her in his bed. “Relax, princess,” he cooed softly. “Let me take your worries away.”

She whimpered slightly when he found her nipple though the soft fabric and her chemise, and he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

“I think you cause more worries than you take away,” she whispered.

“Then I’ll have to work on that,” he whispered back. Luke dipped his head and claimed her mouth, while his hand continued to caress her breast that so perfectly filled his hand. How he wished it wasn’t hiding behind yellow muslin and he could taste it.

***

Still basking in the glow of a stolen afternoon spent with Luke, Juliet sat in the blue parlor grinning to herself. She was supposed to be reading a book while Georgie went through her correspondence, but focusing on anything other than Luke’s heavenly lips proved to be impossible.

The door flew open and Edmund burst inside with Lord Carraway quick on his tail. Her little brother was grinning from ear-to-ear and threw himself onto the settee next to her. His blue-green eyes were wide with excitement. “Jules! We had such a great day! Uncle Fin let me sit next to Prinny. And I got to have melted chocolate to drink. And—”

He was so adorable with his childish exuberance. Juliet ruffled his dark brown curls. “I’m so glad you had fun, Edmund.”

Lord Carraway cleared his throat, and Juliet turned her attention to the handsome viscount. She smiled at him gratefully. It was so nice that he took such an interest in Edmund.

“Lady Teynham.” Carraway nodded politely at Georgie. “May I have a word with you?”

“Of course,” Georgie replied as she dropped her letters to a nearby table.

Once in the hallway, Georgie smiled up at Fin. “Edmund didn’t create some sort of political scandal, did he?” But her smile faltered when she noticed that the viscount was frowning. “Good Heavens, Fin! What did he do?”

“Edmund was fine, Georgina.” Then he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm led her into a small salon. “But I’ve been worried about you all day, sweetheart.”

“Me?” Georgie asked in surprise. “Whatever for?”

His frown deepened and he sighed. “When I arrived earlier, this place was bursting at the seams with nearly every scoundrel in Town.”

Georgie echoed his sigh. “I know, and it’s all Luke Beckford’s fault.”

Fin’s frown deepened. “He did seem fairly smug this afternoon.”

“Who did?”

“Beckford. He was waiting here for Juliet when Edmund and I left for Carlton House.”

Georgie thought her head might explode. No one had mentioned that the lout had made an appearance. Not even the staff. This whole situation was worse than she’d thought. But she knew better than to go into the details with Fin. He’d just try to control everything, like he always did. “Of course. Sorry. I’m just a bit distracted.”

Fin scoffed, disappointment etched across his aristocratic brow. “Bathurst couldn’t have picked a worse time to send me away. Listen, sweetheart, I still have that special license. We wouldn’t have to wait for the banns…”

Georgie shook her head. He had promised not to do this again.

“Marry me, Georgina. Come with me to India. We’ll bring Edmund and Juliet. You won’t have to worry about the scourge of London filling Prestwick House.” He then smiled charmingly. “Say ‘yes,’ Georgie. Let me give you the world.”

She was a fool. Of that there was no doubt. Any woman with more than a thimble’s full worth of sense would accept Fin on the spot. He was honorable. He was intelligent. He was kind. He made her heart race. But he was overbearing and, after Teynham, that was still a bit frightening. “Phineas Granard, you promised!”

He softly caressed her cheek with his hand. “I’m a politician, sweetheart. We break promises all the time in order to get what we want.”

She smiled despite herself. She really shouldn’t encourage him. “Fin, I still need more time. We’ve discussed this.”

“I’m not Teynham, Georgie.”

She knew that in heart, but still he had promised not to pressure her. “I’ll have an answer for you when you get back from your trip.”

When Fin lowered his head and gently kissed her, Georgie could swear the world was spinning. He was heavenly.

Fin ran his hand down her arm and grinned wolfishly. “Will you be furious with me, if I come to your room tonight and try to convince you otherwise?”

“Fin!”

He chuckled at her indignation. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d visited her there, though no one else in the world knew that. “Have a heart, Georgie. I’ll be away for a year.”

“And you’re worried about Juliet’s suitors? What, my darling Phineas, would people say if they knew you made a habit of visiting my room?”

“Well…” he kissed her forehead… “they’d probably…” he kissed the tip of her nose… “think I was the luckiest…” he kissed the base of her neck… “fellow in all of…” he ran his tongue along the hollow of her neck… “England.”

Georgie tried to stifle a groan, but he heard it and pulled her against him as he plundered her mouth again. “Say ‘yes,’ Georgina. You know I love you.”

“And I love you, Fin. But I still need more time.”

~ 9 ~

In the days that followed, Luke made certain that Juliet was never far from his sight. Slowly, the number of unsavory men that visited Prestwick House had dwindled to only himself. Honestly, Georgie should have been grateful to Luke for his efforts in this regard, but she only intensified her ever watchful eye on him. She seemed to have developed some sort of sixth sense and always knew when he was around, determined not to allow him one un-chaperoned moment with Juliet.

Luke started to feel a bit like a schoolboy, a stolen kiss here or there, one or two lingering touches…but overall he’d been stopped in his tracks by the widowed marchioness on all fronts. He began to think of Georgie as his arch nemesis—which should have been humorous, as no one really had arch nemeses. Or did they?

He would just have to get more creative.

***

Juliet smiled to herself as the Prestwick coach rambled toward London’s west side docks. At her side, Edmund chatted excitedly about his upcoming journey with his uncle, and across the coach Georgie pursed her lips with a worried expression. Just like everything else that involved Luke over the last little while, Georgie had to be cajoled and badgered before she finally agreed to the excursion. But today’s adventure was to be on board Luke’s yacht, and Juliet could hardly wait.

It was a beautiful spring day with puffy white clouds scattered across the cerulean sky. It was the sort of day that felt magical—at least it did whenever Juliet thought about spending it with Luke. And honestly it was hard to think about anything else.

He had become such a part of her life. Always there. Always watching her with those devilish, green eyes. Always waiting to steal a kiss if Georgie happened to turn her back. And as the days progressed, she’d started to suspect that she had fallen in love with the scoundrel. She wasn’t certain, as she’d never fallen in love before. How did one know for sure? She couldn’t ask her sister for advice. In the first place, she didn’t believe Georgie had ever been in love. And secondly, she knew that if she expressed such a question to her sister, Georgie would barricade Prestwick House against the scandalous rogue all together.

Slowly, the coach rolled to a stop. Then the door opened, but instead of a footman lowering the steps, Luke did the honors with a rakish grin that sent flutters straight to Juliet’s belly.

“Your Grace. Lady Teynham,” Luke greeted them and helped Edmund and Georgie from the coach. Then he offered his hand to Juliet. “Princess.” His simple touch made tingles race across her skin, like it always did.

“Luke!” Edmund gushed and gestured to the large, white ship that floated proudly before them. There were two rows of portholes and three large masts towering above. “This is brilliant.”

“I do hope you’ll enjoy yourself, Edmund. Escort your sister, will you? And watch your step.”

Edmund grabbed Georgie’s hand in his and anxiously towed her up the gangplank. Her brother’s excitement was contagious, and even Georgie laughed as she stumbled onto the deck.

Juliet smiled as she watched her siblings. It had been too long since they’d all had fun together. She found that Luke’s love for life was simply addictive.

“What are you thinking, Juliet?” Luke whispered.

His breath warmed her neck and she shuddered. The sweet smell of his citric shaving lotion invaded her senses and made her sigh. “I was just thinking how glad I am to know you.”

“Indeed?” He grinned and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “I can hardly wait for you to get to know me even better. As they started up the narrow gangplank, Luke slid his hand along her back and quietly admitted, “Actually, princess, I’ve invited others to join us today. Normally, I wouldn’t ask for my sister’s company, but I think she’ll do marvelously in keeping Georgie occupied for a while.”

Juliet was thrilled to see that not only Caroline was on board Luke’s yacht, but her son and daughters as well. Edmund and the three Staveley children were already laughing gaily and racing each other across the deck. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

She then spotted Susan Clarke and her parents off to one side, talking with Lord Haywood. She must have groaned aloud, because Luke followed her eyes and replied, “Come now, Juliet, we had a bargain…and you’re supposed to be helping Will woo the shy Miss Clarke.”

Juliet grimaced at the thought and whined, “What do I get again?”

“Me,” Luke answered with a low growl that she felt all the way down to her toes. Then he had the audacity to actually squeeze her bottom.

Juliet stifled a gasp and hoped that no one had noticed the inappropriate touch that caused an instant blush to stain her cheeks. But luckily no one had paid them any attention. Georgie and Caroline occupied each other, talking quite animatedly as they kept their eyes on the four children. Meanwhile Haywood and the Clarkes were intently focused on each other. She and Luke could have vanished and no one would have been the wiser.

Though just as that thought entered Juliet’s mind, Caroline turned her bright smile on her brother. “Darling, when did you acquire this vessel? Staveley would be quite impressed with it.”

Luke looked up at one of the masts with some degree of pride. “I won it from Haversham last month in a wager.”

Georgie’s face went white at mention of one of London’s most dissolute noblemen. This did not go unnoticed by Caroline, who narrowed her hazel eyes as she scolded him. “Honestly, darling, the company you keep.”

Luke merely chuckled at this and led Juliet closer to the group. “He’s not nearly as bad as everyone seems to think.”

“Hmm,” Caroline responded tartly. “That’s what I always seem to be saying about you, Lucas.”

As the yacht floated down the Thames, everyone went to one side or the other to watch London lazily pass before their eyes. To Juliet, the city somehow seemed to look different as one drifted down the river. Much more peaceful.

She was so caught up in watching the Tower come into view that she almost jumped out of her skin when Luke startled her by laying his hand on her back. But then she felt his warm breath on her neck and was quickly put at ease.

“Follow me.”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. Giddy anticipation washed over Juliet as she slid her hand in Luke’s, followed him to the back of the yacht, and then down a narrow staircase.

“The children are playing some hiding game,” he told her quietly. “Will is trying to impress the Clarkes, and Caroline and Georgie appear to be enthralled in some deep conversation about Lord Carraway.”

In virtually no time at all, Luke led her down a darkened hallway and opened a narrow door at the very end. Juliet caught her breath as she entered and looked around at the spacious room with expensive furniture and glossy mahogany walls.

There were orchids everywhere. Exotic arrangements of flowers were in vases on tables and single orchids were littered about the cabin floor and even scattered across a large four-poster bed in the corner.

Juliet heard a key turn in a lock behind her. Then before she could even turn around, Luke’s soft lips were pressed to her neck. Instinctively, she tilted her head to one side, giving him better access. One could get accustomed to being lavished with his attention.

She did audibly gasp, however, when the bodice of her dress sagged and spring air washed over her now loosened back. “Luke!” She spun around to face him, clutching her dress to her breastbone.

Luke’s crooked grin and mischievous, emerald eyes made Juliet’s toes curl in her slippers, though she’d never let him know that. He was dangerous enough as it was. Instead, she tightened her grasp on her dress, trying to look her most stern.

He simply chuckled. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, princess.”

She didn’t necessarily agree with his estimation. Where Luke was concerned, there was plenty to be afraid of. He made her pulse race and her breathing catch. Whenever he was near, she had an overwhelming urge to throw caution to the wind and do whatever he wanted of her. That wouldn’t do at all, or at least she didn’t think it would.

She let him back her up against the wall and slide his warm hands over her shoulders, knowing full well she shouldn’t allow such a thing. Then he intimately pressed himself against her as his soft lips once again claimed her neck. Juliet thought she might swoon, though she wasn’t at all the swooning sort.

“Mmm,” he groaned softly. Then he whispered in her ear, “You taste like the sweetest honey.”

“L—Luke,” she choked out, “I don’t think this is at all wise.”

She could feel him smile against her neck, as one of his hands covered hers where she held her dress in place. “Passion rarely is.” He continued to nibble at her neck, and urged her hand away from her bodice.

“B-b-but…” she stammered as he tugged the dress down to her hips. Unfortunately, her silk chemise couldn’t hide her peaked nipples, which were aching for his touch.

“Juliet.” Her name was a caress on his lips and the green flames of his eyes calmed her rapid breathing. “I would never let anything happen to you. No one will ever know what transpires between us. I would never see you hurt in that way. You have my word.”

As she stared into his eyes, her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She so wanted what he was offering. Just being held by him was dangerous and exciting, but good girls didn’t do such things. She had always been a good girl. So she thought to reason with him. “We should get back. Georgie will know that I’m missing.”

He growled and it reverberated completely through her. “She hasn’t even given me five minutes alone with you.”

Juliet suppressed a giggle as she looked at his body pressed against her almost naked one. It was no wonder Georgie was so careful.

“We’ll go back soon enough, princess. I just want to see you.”

“Y—you—” she took a staggering breath— “can see me on deck.”

He began to untie the ribbon straps of her chemise. “I want to see all of you, princess. And touch you. And taste you.”

She swallowed nervously. She really shouldn’t allow this. She should straighten her back and demand that he release her, but she found she just didn’t have the will for that. Women dreamed of this man. She had dreamed of this man, and the reality of him was much more intoxicating than her fantasies had ever been.

When Luke released the ribbon ties, the soft silk of her chemise slid down to Juliet’s waist. His smile deepened as he looked at her. “Dear God, you’re beautiful.”

She’d never thought of herself that way—especially like this. She wouldn’t even look at herself in the mirror without clothes on, for Heaven’s sake! Yet, the reverent look in Luke’s eyes made her feel beautiful and she sighed.

Her nipples tightened even more, though she wasn’t certain if it was the cool, spring air or Luke’s heated gaze that did the trick. He seemed mesmerized as he pulled back just a bit to see her. Then he licked his forefinger and touched it gently to the tip of one of her breasts. And though the contact was as light as a feather, she was certain her legs were going to buckle beneath her. She swayed.

Luke steadied her with one hand at her waist. Then he captured one entire breast with his free hand and bent his head to taste the other one, which sent searing heat straight to her core. Juliet couldn’t help but whimper.

She was certain that no woman had ever felt so wicked or wonderful, and then…

Then the world stopped completely when giggle of a child came from inside the room.

***

Sweet Lucifer!

Luke spun around in the blink of an eye, shielding Juliet’s nearly naked body with his fully clothed one. His eleven-year-old niece, Rachel, was peering out from under the four-poster bed—giggling. He was going to murder her. “Rachel Benton!” he barked. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

Rachel scrambled to her feet, twirling a discarded orchid in her hands. “Hiding. We’re playing a game. Uncle Luke, are you going to marry Lady Juliet?”

Luke simply growled at the child. He could feel Juliet struggling to pull her chemise and dress back up, which he knew was made more difficult with his current position, but there was no way he was moving from this spot and leaving her unguarded.

“Because Mama says,” Rachel continued, “that only married people are allowed to kiss without clothes on.”

Juliet whimpered behind him.

“And she is right!” Luke nodded stiffly—not wanting to know how Caroline and Rachel had ever stumbled upon this uncomfortable topic. “But Lady Juliet and I weren’t kissing. She spilled something on her very pretty dress and I was helping her take it off—so that we could clean it.”

Rachel’s skeptical smirk grew wider as he spoke. Obviously she didn’t believe one word of his clearly contrived excuse. “Uncle Luke, surely you can do better than that,” she finally responded with a disappointed shake of her head.

Damn! Couldn’t one of the children have taken after Staveley? Did they all have to be miniature versions of Caroline in one form or another? Dramatic. Manipulative. Blackmailing, the lot of them. “All right, Rachel, what’s it going to cost me to keep this quiet?”

“Luke!” Juliet hissed in his ear, but he shushed her with a raised hand. He knew how to deal with his nieces and nephew. He’d been dealing with them for years, after all. Never a situation like this before, but certainly a bribe would work.

Rachel didn’t even have the good manners to look ashamed at his suggestion. Instead his enterprising niece tapped one finger against her chin in contemplation. “I think I’d like a pony.”

“Done,” he answered sharply. “Now, out with you.”

“From Uncle Robert’s stables. Papa says he has the best horses in the country.”

Damn! He didn’t want to have to deal with Robert. But at the moment he would have promised her the mythical, winged horse Pegasus, for her silence. “Is that it, Rachel?” he asked with a frown. She could get a lot more than a horse from him. But did she know it? And did she dare ask for it?

“You do know that Mama would like for you to marry Lady Juliet?” she asked, and her hazel eyes appeared to be assessing the situation.

“Rachel!” he growled.

Then she quirked a satisfied grin at him and nodded. “A horse will do.”

Luke narrowed his eyes on his niece. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, my dear. If you tell one soul, not only will I not get you one of Uncle Robert’s horses, but I’ll instead get horses for both Adam and Emma as retribution. Understood?”

Again she nodded. Luke carefully moved Juliet away from the door, then opened it, and unceremoniously pushed his niece into the hallway. Then he let his head fall backward against the dark, mahogany wall and groaned miserably as Juliet tried to finish pulling herself together.

An enchanting blush covered every inch of skin he could see. She was magnificently lovely. He stepped toward her, but she backed away skittishly. “Just stay where you are.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Closing the gap between them, he pulled her back into his arms.

“You have a very difficult time following orders,” she remarked to his cravat.

Luke’s smile grew and he tipped her chin back so that she had to look at him. “Indeed. Especially when those orders don’t allow me to touch you.”

“Luke!” She furrowed her pretty brow. “How can you just stand there so calmly?”

He was the farthest thing from that emotion, and he hardened once again. Apparently, she noticed it too, because her blush deepened even more. “I’m not calm, princess. I’ve just run out of time.”

He didn’t trust himself to kiss her, as that would lead to something he definitely didn’t have time for. Juliet had tasted magnificent. Just the memory of that delicious nipple made him even harder. He needed to bury himself inside her so badly it hurt. Not now. But soon.

Damn his manipulative, horse-loving, little blackmailing niece!

~ 10 ~

The widowed Marchioness of Astwick was a dragon by anyone’s standards, but she always threw a magnificent soiree, and it was always well attended. Standing in the receiving line and holding Luke’s arm, Juliet patiently waited to be welcomed by the dragon and her notoriously gregarious son. There was something different about tonight. Something was in the air, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Ah, Beckford!” Lord Astwick nearly bellowed when he spotted them. “And my dear Lady Juliet.” Then he grinned charmingly at her. “I had so hoped you’d be in attendance this evening, my lady.”

Juliet smiled in return. “Well, thank you, my lord.”

Astwick leaned in close and winked at her. “My darling girl, however did you civilize him? His poor family has been trying, unsuccessfully, for decades.”

“Always good to see you, Chet,” Luke retorted wryly and then led Juliet past the marquess into the grand ballroom, decorated in swaths of peach silk and white hothouse roses. Soft music filled the air and dancing had already begun.

Just like at the Strickland Ball, most eyes were focused on them after the footman intoned their names. But it didn’t bother Juliet as much this time. She felt more confident as Luke escorted her about the room. Let people look at them!

And look they did.

She felt warm and tingly when Luke whispered in her ear, “They can’t help but stare at you, princess.”

“I don’t think it’s me they’re staring at,” she replied quietly.

“Of course it is,” he answered with a smirk. “Just like Astwick, they all want to see the enchanting lady that has actually tamed me.”

Juliet giggled at that, squeezed his arm, and then whispered back, “Are you tame? I would never have known it with the way you behave in private.” Though she wasn’t about to admit that she adored that about him—their time together had been truly and wonderfully wicked. No, she wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not even him.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and Juliet looked up to see Lady Ridgemont standing directly in front of them, arms across her ample chest, looking most annoyed. Luke’s muscles tensed instantly, so Juliet squeezed his arm supportively.

“Mr. Beckford, how surprising to keep running into you. I would have thought—” she sent Juliet a scathing look— “that you would have tired of your present company by now.”

“Then you would have been mistaken, Lady Ridgemont. Please excuse us.”

Luke started to tow Juliet away from the now sputtering baroness, but was stopped when the baroness snatched his arm. “Luke, I need to speak with you. It is urgent.”

He shook his head and attempted to reclaim his arm from her grasp. “If it is urgent, then I suggest you discuss it with Ridgemont.”

The baroness’ grasp tightened even more on Luke’s arm. This wasn’t the first time she’d accosted the two of them together, and Juliet knew the besotted woman wouldn’t take a simple no for an answer. It would be best if he just dealt with her now so they could enjoy the rest of their evening later.

Then Juliet spotted the famous portrait artist, Daniel Bennett, speaking with another gentleman on the other side of the room. Years earlier, Mr. Bennett and his American wife had stayed at Teynham’s for a few weeks when the late marquess had commissioned a portrait of Georgie. At the time, Felicity had been enthralled to talk to Mrs. Bennett, and devoured all the information the matron could tell her about America.

Certainly, she could wait out the time that Lady Ridgemont required of Luke by renewing her acquaintance with the artist. She’d always found that Mr. Bennett was quite engaging. “Luke, I actually see someone I would like to speak to.”

He frowned at her as she stepped away from him.

“Find me when you’ve finished your conversation.”

Though she’d turned her back on them, Juliet could hear them exchange heated words in sotto voce. And she found herself wondering why Lady Ridgemont continued to make such a fool out of herself. It was quite sad, really.

Determined to put distance between herself and the baroness, whom she could feel glaring at her back, Juliet started toward the artist and his companion. It would be good to speak to Mr. Bennett again, and she wondered if his pretty wife was somewhere in the throng of people.

Before she could reach the two men, Lord Haywood intercepted her, Susan Clarke on his arm. Juliet was glad to note that Susan was smiling again. Apparently, she’d come to terms with the fact that Haywood was a fortune hunter and decided that she didn’t care. Juliet wished her luck.

Lord Haywood bowed and smiled coolly. “Lady Juliet, how wonderful to see you.”

She had to stop herself from grimacing. Though Juliet felt a companionship with Miss Clarke, she could go forever without ever having to speak to the inept baron. “Thank you, my lord. I was just on my way to speak with Mr. Bennett. If you’ll—”

Haywood turned up his nose and looked thoroughly disgusted as he glanced briefly at the artist and his handsome companion. “You might want to reconsider that, my lady. Bennett and his half-brother, Weatherton, are generally considered bad ton.”

And he was good ton? Though Juliet kept that question to herself. “Oh? Do you know the gentlemen?”

Haywood nodded his head, though he kept his back to the man in question. “Their family is neighbors of mine in Sussex. Bad breeding. The Dowager Lady Weatherton is an American.” He made an unpleasant face.

Juliet narrowed her eyes on the baron. “Allow me to remind you that my sister Felicity’s mother was an American. I’m certain you don’t consider my sister to be the result of ‘bad breeding’.”

To his credit, Haywood blanched and quickly tried to recover. “N—no, my lady. B—but Lady Weatherton was not from an upstanding family like your step-mother was. Not a drop of blue blood in her insignificant veins.”

Susan Clarke seemed to turn a bit white at that last comment, and Juliet shook her head at the baron in complete irritation. “Honestly, my lord, every time you open your mouth something ridiculous escapes. Pray endeavor to keep it closed in my presence. Do excuse me.” And then she started, once again, toward the artist and the man she now knew to be his brother.

However as Juliet got closer, it became apparent that the two gentlemen were having a private conversation about one of their sisters and she didn’t want to intrude. But Juliet also didn’t want to walk back toward Haywood and Susan Clarke, so she stood alone and quietly waited for Luke to finish with Lady Ridgemont.

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, truly she didn’t…but she was so close to Mr. Bennett and Lord Weatherton, and the two men weren’t whispering.

“For God’s sakes, Danny,” Lord Weatherton frowned. “You know Ella’s marital state is the last thing I want to think about—ever.”

Daniel Bennett chuckled, a rich sound Juliet remembered from the time he’d spent at Teynham’s Essex estate. “Funny that’s the only thing that ever makes you squeamish.”

“Repulsed is a better term.” He shuddered. “Enough about her. Did you by chance notice that the exquisite Lady Masten’s left already?”

“She would be hard to miss. Gorgeous woman, an artist’s dream.”

“Can you forget your bloody paint brushes for five minutes?” Lord Weatherton sent his brother an incredulous look. “What exactly was Masten thinking, letting her come to Town without him? Incredible fool.”

Mr. Bennett shrugged and seemed bored by the conversation. “I doubt very seriously he’s even noticed that she’s gone.”

Lord Weatherton nearly choked on a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve got to be joking, Danny. Who wouldn’t notice that their stunning wife has left them?”

“Masten,” Mr. Bennett answered calmly. “The man is obsessed with his stables—always has been.”

The handsome lord slyly grinned. “There’s a bet on the books at White’s about who will be the first to cuckold the earl.”

“Drew!” the artist frowned reproachfully.

However, Lord Weatherton seemed completely unaffected by his brother’s quiet reprimand. “Placed a wager myself.”

“I’m embarrassed for you.”

“I’ve got five hundred quid on Beckford,” Lord Weatherton proudly answered the unasked question.

Mr. Bennett looked aghast. “What a reprehensible thought.”

But Lord Weatherton only smirked at his brother’s chiding. “Please. I’m certain Luke Beckford would take particular delight in making a fool out of Masten. Besides, he’s cuckolded everyone else.”

“Interesting theory. Remind me to keep you away from my wife.” Mr. Bennett grimaced at his brother.

While Lord Weatherton chuckled at this statement, Juliet frowned to herself. Who was Lord Masten? The name was an unfamiliar one. And had she heard these men correctly? Was there a bet on the books at White’s that Luke would cuckold this Masten, whoever he was? That was terrible. Men truly were dreadful creatures to contemplate such things. Was there any truth in the tale?

She was still mentally shaking her head when Luke appeared before her, wearing one of his earth-stopping grins. “I believe this dance is mine, princess.” He offered his hand and swept her out onto the dance floor.

Juliet was surprised that during this waltz, Luke didn’t attempt to pull her any closer to him than propriety expected, which was a bit disappointing. She’d grown accustomed to his brazen disregard of societal rules. She rather enjoyed that about him, actually. Apparently, he could read her thoughts because a roguish smirk settled on his lips. “I’d hold you against me, Juliet, but my sister has just finished threatening me within an inch of my life against doing that very thing.”

She quirked one eyebrow at him. “Indeed? I had no idea Lady Staveley had such influence over you.”

With his head, Luke motioned to the side of the room where Caroline was watching them with apt attention. “Younger sisters are such pests, it’s best not to annoy them—particularly when their eyes are glued to you.” Luke led her into a turn. “So, we’ll just have to escape her notice.”

“And Georgie’s,” Juliet supplied with an anxious frown. Which was always more difficult.

“Actually, Carraway’s got her well occupied at the moment.” Luke remarked and looked to his left.

Carraway? He must be mistaken. The viscount never attended any societal functions. State dinners were one thing, but… Juliet followed his gaze, and was shocked to see that Luke indeed was correct—Carraway and Georgie were huddled together in a far corner of the room, engrossed in conversation.

How strange! But Carraway was leaving for India the next morning with Edmund. Perhaps they were just discussing the particulars of the trip again. Though one would think the man had better things to do the night before he left the country than attend the Astwick Soiree.

One thing, however, was certain—Georgie was indeed occupied. Whatever Carraway was saying, her sister was most interested and hadn’t even chanced a glance at the dance floor. Her heart beat in anticipation of stealing a few moments alone with Luke.

When the waltz finally came to an end, Luke quietly ushered Juliet through a set French doors that opened out onto a back terrace. Then he took her hand and guided her down a set of large, stone steps that led toward the Astwick gardens. The chilly evening air whipped over Juliet, and gooseflesh rippled across her skin. It was foolish to be out on a night like this without a wrap, but she was convinced that Luke would make her all warm and tingly in no time.

He finally came to a halt in a secluded area, hid by a hedgerow. Then without any warning, he pulled her against him. Juliet felt breathless as her breasts were pressed against the strong wall of his chest, and his legs entwined intimately with hers. She didn’t even have a chance to speak before he covered her mouth with his. And when she gasped, he drove inside her mouth. He tasted like sweet tobacco and sinful rake—a most deliciously wicked combination.

Luke finally lifted his head, but the roguish smile that usually settled on his lips was missing. He looked serious, firm lines etched across his beautiful brow. “Juliet, I need you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I need to be inside you.”

He’d asked for the same thing the day before, when he’d stolen a kiss in the corridor at Prestwick House. It hadn’t seemed as frightening then as it did now—in the deserted garden. Juliet pushed away from him and dropped onto a nearby stone bench. Things were moving too fast, and though it felt like heaven in his arms, she needed to have her wits about her.

***

Luke stared after her with a deepening frown. He’d been very patient up until now. But truly, a man could only endure so much.

Then Juliet looked up at him, her pretty brown eyes clouded with concern. “Luke, who is Lord Masten?”

At first he didn’t think he’d heard her correctly. What the devil did his brother have to do with this? But she seemed earnest in her question, so he answered honestly—though he could hear the irritation in his own voice. “My humorless and rigid brother. Why do you ask?”

She looked surprised by the answer, but then shook her head. “No reason.”

Now he had to know. She didn’t just come up with Masten’s name out of nowhere. If Robert had something to do with her turning away from him… “Juliet.” He narrowed his eyes on her.

She took a deep breath and then met his gaze. “I overheard some men talking about you and Masten’s wife.”

Luke felt the color drain from his face. Certainly, she didn’t know about Lydia. She couldn’t! After all, Robert had gone to great lengths to make sure that no one find out about his indiscretion with the little tart. “What did you hear?” he growled, though he hadn’t meant to.

When she blushed, Luke rubbed his brow roughly. Damn it! How was it possible?

So he breathed a sigh of relief when she quietly stated, “I don’t want to be made a fool of, Luke.” Then her eyes dropped to her clasped hands. “If there’s something between you and this Lady Masten then…”

God forbid! He shuddered at the thought. “I hardly know my sister-in-law.” That, at least, was true. He also preferred not to think about her. “She’s nothing for you to worry about, princess.” Then he sat next to Juliet, feeling relief wash over him, and covered her hands with his. “Trust me.”

She glanced wryly at him. “I’m not blind to Lady Ridgemont’s obsession with you. Or Baronesa Sandoval before her, and countless others I could name but…Luke, I don’t wish to follow in their footsteps.”

What did she want from him? What was she asking for? Some sort of promise or commitment? He frowned at her. “Juliet, I’m confused. One moment you’re kissing me and I know you enjoy my touch. And the next you’re berating me for my past, which pre-dates my involvement with you, I might add.”

She knocked his hands away and stood up, avoiding his eyes the entire time. “I’ve been gone for too long, Luke. I should get back before someone notices.”

“Juliet.” His frown deepened at her evasive tactics. Really, that didn’t seem like her. She faced things head on, never shied away.

But when she quickly started back toward the stone steps, Luke chased after her and easily snared her waist in his hands. She turned in his arms and finally looked up at him. “Let me go.” Her voice was soft but determined.

“What do you want from me, Juliet?”

“I—I don’t know, Luke. I just don’t want to end up like the others. I don’t want to be made a fool of.”

He’d never intended to make a fool out of anyone. Besides, Juliet was more clever than most. More enchanting too. His hand softly caressed her jaw. “I would never hurt you, princess. I won’t make a fool of you. I promise.”

Luke had barely managed to get one small kiss planted on Juliet’s cheek before she slipped from his grasp and escaped back inside the Astwick ballroom. He stared after her vanishing form with a heavy heart. Over the last few weeks, she’d come to mean so much to him, and he hated this—whatever this was.

Then he noticed the red tip of a cheroot glow in the darkened shadows of the terrace. For a moment his heart sped up, wondering if someone had seen them. Wondering if someone had seen Juliet’s face. He couldn’t allow his princess’ reputation besmirched—especially as he’d just promised not to make a fool out of her.

But then the smoker moved out of the shadows and started down the stone steps toward him—Haywood. Thank Lucifer! Luke had never been so relieved to see the young baron.

That relief was short lived.

“So are you planning on marrying her?” Will’s dark brow arched smugly.

“Who?” Luke feigned ignorance, as he slowly began to climb the steps toward his friend.

Will snorted and looked at him with a degree of displeasure. “I was at least going to give her my name.”

Luke frowned. Will couldn’t possibly still want to marry Juliet. Two less suited people didn’t exist. “There’s no point in being melodramatic, Will.”

“You truly are a bastard, you know?” Haywood now stood one step above Luke and looked down on him with a barely concealed contempt.

“You’re certainly not the first to think so.” In fact, unless he was mistaken, the lady in question thought the very same thing about him at the moment. But Luke would be damned if he was going to be chastised by a penniless whelp that made just as many problems for himself as he’d inherited. “Anyway, Haywood, I had nothing to do with her desire not to marry you. Susan Clarke is a much better prospect. I’m sure you see that now.”

Will’s scowl darkened. “Susan’s not even speaking to me now. All because of that acid-tongued witch of yours.”

Ah, so there’d been a lovers’ spat? He wasn’t sure how Juliet was involved, but that certainly explained Will’s nasty mood. Luke slapped a hand on his friend’s back. “Come on. Let’s get of here, Will. We’ll go to the Blue Crow, and—”

“You do realize she’s in love with you?”

“Miss Clarke?” Luke chuckled in surprise. “I hardly think so. I barely know the chit. Besides she only seems to have eyes for you. I’m sure tomorrow morning everything will blow over.”

“Lady Juliet,” Will growled, and it didn’t seem that he had any intention of moving from where he’d planted his feet on the steps.

Juliet in love with him? Luke nearly choked. That was so far from the truth, he didn’t even know where to begin. How did Will ever get such a featherbrained idea? Juliet didn’t believe in love, just like he didn’t. That was just one of the many reasons she was so perfect. Besides she was too smart for such a senseless emotion. “I’m certain you’re mistaken. She and I enjoy each other’s company, nothing more. I assure you.”

Will snorted. “Your assurances are worthless. I have a sister, Luke. And I know what a woman in love looks like. Clare was always a blithering idiot around that bastard, Daniel Bennett.”

“Juliet would not like to be compared to a blithering idiot.” Luke continued to grin. “Now, come on. Let’s go somewhere else. I detest Astwick’s constant scrutiny. I might as well have my damned brother hanging about.”

But Will paid him no attention and pressed on, “Her face lights up when you enter a room. She stares at you in awe. And she hangs on your every word. She’s an icy bitch to everyone but you. I just can’t believe I didn’t see it before now.”

Hangs on his every word? Hardly. She had a quick-witted retort for nearly everything he said. It was one of the things he adored about her. Will just wasn’t in his right mind. The quarrel with Miss Clarke must have taken its toll on the poor fellow. Perhaps he could distract his friend. “Well, I’m headed to the Blue Crow with or without you.”

~ 11 ~

Georgie cried for one full day after Edmund left for India, and then sulked the next few as well. This came as a bit of surprise to Juliet, as Georgie was normally so composed—never one to show emotion of any sort, not even during those awful years with Teynham.

Juliet was miserable as well. Prestwick House wasn’t the same without Edmund racing, un-duke-like, from one room to the next. The absence of his childish laughter cast a pall over the entire residence, as if they were all in some sort of mourning.

It didn’t help matters that Juliet hadn’t heard from Luke since their encounter in the Astwick gardens. He’d just vanished from her life without a word. Perhaps she’d been too harsh that night. She might do things differently if she had the chance.

Then again, she meant the words she’d said to him that night. She hadn’t even realized she’d felt those things until they’d flown out of her mouth. It would be terribly easy, she now realized, to follow in Lady Ridgemont’s unfortunate footsteps and make a complete fool out of herself over him time and time again. And that, she most certainly didn’t want. How humiliating to be a laughingstock for the entire ton. She would not go down that path.

So perhaps it was for the best that he’d simply disappeared. She only wished that her heart would stop aching during the day, and that he’d stop visiting her dreams at night. That things could go back to the way they were before Luke had blazed his way into her life.

Juliet was relieved when Caroline Staveley paid a surprise social call at Prestwick House. The viscountess was as lively as she was lovely, and brought with her a feeling of cheerfulness. “Darling!” Caroline gushed as she entered the blue parlor and kissed both of Georgie’s cheeks. Then she turned her attention to Juliet with a wide smile. “And aren’t you lovely, Juliet.”

“Thank you.” Juliet found herself smiling in return. It was hard to mope when Caroline was around. She was like a whirlwind of energy and excitement.

“You haven’t, by chance, spoken with Lucas have you?”

Juliet only slightly winced at the name and shook her head. “Not for several days.”

Caroline dramatically flounced onto the settee next to Juliet and frowned. “When I see him, I will strangle the life right out of the blackguard. Last week he promised Adam that he’d take him riding, but I haven’t laid eyes on him since the Astwick Soiree.”

Caroline hadn’t seen him since then either? Certainly nothing had happened to him! Juliet frowned at the sudden thought and her chest compressed.

But Caroline caught her look and softened her expression. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s gone off for a while without telling anyone.” Then she turned her pretty, hazel eyes on Georgie across the room. “Darling, I desperately need your help. My ball is in less than a fortnight, and all my wonderful plans have gone up in smoke—no pun intended.”

Georgie fought back a smile. “The fire breathers?”

“Precisely.” Caroline playfully pouted. “Staveley has forbidden it. Which is quite disheartening, as he never forbids anything. So, now I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you considered having just a simple affair this time?” Georgie asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

“A simple affair!” Caroline sputtered and turned to Juliet, her mouth agape. “You’d think she just met me.” Then Caroline refocused on her friend and shook her head. “Georgina, how could you even suggest such a thing? Perhaps Kelfield still has the direction of those acrobats he used to support. I don’t think Staveley would have a problem with them. Do you?”

Georgie actually giggled. “That depends, Caro, will they be wearing clothes? I don’t believe they did at the duke’s.”

Both of Caroline’s brows rose delightedly. “I’m daring, but not that daring. Honestly, darling, I’m running out of time, and I have so much riding on this event.”

Soon all three of them were spinning one outlandish idea after another for the upcoming Staveley Ball. When Juliet suggested that she only admit guests who came dressed as mythical gods and goddesses, Caroline shuddered. “Hordes of Bacchuses and Venuses I don’t need—especially since Masten will be in attendance.”

The name of Luke’s humorless and rigid brother captured Juliet’s immediate attention. “Masten?” she asked sweetly.

Caroline heaved a sigh. “Yes, my oldest brother is a bit stodgy. He and my sister-in-law have been…estranged for the last little while, and I plan to bring them together at my ball.”

Georgie smirked and continued to explain the situation to Juliet. “Though, neither Masten nor his wife know the other will be in attendance—or surely neither of them would show up.”

“True, true,” Caroline conceded. “And the last thing I need is scantily-clad men hovering over my brother’s wife. It would be enough to give him an apoplexy.”

Juliet giggled at the ridiculousness of the suggestion.

But Caroline looked quite serious. “Honestly, darling, I’m not jesting. He could expire on the spot. Not quite the splash I’m looking to make.”

After a while, Georgie was finally successful in convincing Caroline to forgo her usual creative flourish with this particular ball and to be just a bit more conservative. Then Caroline somehow extracted promises from both Georgie and Juliet to help her with the final preparations for the event. Juliet welcomed the distraction, especially as she admired Caroline Staveley’s cheerful disposition, determined spirit, and wicked tongue.

***

Luke was in an awful mood. He had been for days.

Somehow he had forgotten that he hated traveling with Haywood until it was too late. His friend had a terrible habit of heavily imbibing at night and then wailing and moaning the whole next day in the coach, all the while looking rather green about the gills. After a day’s worth of travel to Sussex, a couple of days spent at his friend’s small country estate, and a day of travel returning to London, Luke decided he could go a fortnight without seeing Will.

But a sennight earlier it had seemed like such a good idea to make the trip to Haywood’s stables. Will desperately needed money and Luke had need of a filly. Although Rachel had demanded a horse from the Masten stables, he figured his niece wouldn’t know the difference. Besides, if he could go a fortnight without seeing Haywood, he could go forever without seeing his brother. And the Haywood stables were perfectly fine. Even Robert had his eye on one of Will’s stallions.

Being on the road and away from the distractions of Town, Luke found that he had plenty of time to think. And his mind remained solely focused on Juliet. The longer he dwelled on her, the more it became clear that Will was right. As bizarre as it was, she had somehow fallen in love with him.

Damn her!

What was she thinking to fall prey to such a nonsensical emotion? He would have sworn that Juliet was too clever to do such a featherbrained thing, but the evidence proved otherwise. All this talk of not wanting to be made a fool, her willingness to deceive Georgie, and the girl had absolutely no defenses up against him. But for God’s sake! No one loved him. Everyone knew how foolish that was.

But there was nothing to be done about it, except he knew he had to give her up. Though the thought tore at his soul, he didn’t have a choice. If they continued down the path they were on, he’d end up hurting her for sure. He cared too much for her to do that. He’d promised Edmund he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d promised Caroline. Hell, he’d even promised Juliet.

Going on without her would be painful, but it would be worse to see pain reflected in her eyes. Why did she have to go and fall in love with him? He’d sulked the entire way from Sussex to London like a spoiled child who’d been denied his favorite play thing.

And speaking of spoiled children…

Upon arriving back in London, Luke sent Rachel’s new filly over to Staveley’s stables—where he was certain the horse would be loved and doted upon by his niece. But at the moment he had a more pressing problem—one that had just finished chewing on his new Hessians.

Picking up a beagle puppy for Adam in Sussex had seemed like the thing to do. When Luke had first laid eyes on the little pup, he’d thought the cuddly creature was adorable.

It didn’t take him long to change his mind.

The puppy, which Luke had since dubbed Demon Dog, had already destroyed one cane, an old pair of boots, and had relieved himself on Luke’s favorite midnight blue jacket. He needed to deposit the little fleabag on Staveley’s doorstep—sooner rather than later—and never look back.

The trick was going to be placing the puppy in Adam’s awaiting arms before Caroline discovered what he was about. And he thought he had a good plan. He’d hidden Demon Dog in a small hatbox and was soon standing before his sister’s Curzon Street home.

Merton, a decrepit old fellow who looked like he’d been born about the time William the Conqueror had first stepped foot in England, opened the grand front door. A frown settled on the old butler’s face when he recognized Luke. “Her ladyship is not in at the moment, sir.” Then the old butler actually tried to shut the door on him.

Like hell! Luke was not returning to his rooms in Piccadilly with this little yipping, drooling, boot-chewing, demon of a dog. He pushed against the large door and Merton nearly stumbled backward. “I’m here to see my nephew, Merton. No need to announce me, I know the way.”

Then Luke brushed past him, down the corridor, and up two flights of stairs to the schoolroom—his little hat box lightly growling the whole way. The schoolroom was brightly colored in yellows and greens, with a long, child-sized table in the middle. Standing in the doorway, Luke surveyed the cheery room. Little Emma sat at one end of the table, staring intently at a primer. Rachel stood near a row of windows, working on a watercolor of some sort. Adam sat quietly, reading an old book that looked nautical in nature.

Luke cleared his throat, and immediately three sets of eyes leapt to him. “Uncle Luke!” the children all squealed in unison. Then his nieces and nephew abandoned their work and raced across the room, flinging their arms around his legs and waist.

“What a reception,” he chuckled. He’d never known the children to be so thrilled to see him before.

“We thought we’d never see you again,” little Emma wailed.

Why the devil not? He’d gone more than a week without seeing them before—many times in fact.

Rachel answered his unasked question. “Mama has been ranting that she was going to strangle you for leaving without a word to anyone. You were supposed to take Adam riding days ago.”

Luke suppressed a grin. He’d been hearing such threats from his sister since she was in leading strings. Caroline was nothing if not melodramatic. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I had to make a trip to Dorset, didn’t I, my dear?” Dorset, Sussex. He was sure Rachel wouldn’t know the difference. He prayed Rachel wouldn’t know the difference.

His niece’s pretty face lit up and she started dancing on her tip toes. “Do you mean it, Uncle Luke?”

It was hard to be annoyed with her when she was so happy to see him. He nodded. “I had her delivered to your father’s stables this morning.”

Rachel pulled his head down toward her and planted a huge kiss on his cheek. “Oh, thank you, Uncle Luke. You’re the best.”

“Yes, yes. Just keep up your end of the bargain, sweetheart.” The hat box in his hand began to whimper and Luke coughed to cover up the sound. Then he dropped to his knees and ruffled Adam’s hair. “Speaking of bargains, Adam my boy, please tell me that you have been snake-free since our conversation on the subject.”

His nephew’s eyes grew wide with anticipation and he chanced a glance at the small hat box. “Uncle Luke, is that what I think it is?”

“Stay with me, Adam.” He winked at the boy. “You haven’t brought any more snakes into the house have you?”

Adam shook his head excitedly.

“And you’ve been nice to your sisters?”

Adam nodded his head so hard Luke thought it might fall off. So, he grinned and removed the top of the hat box. Demon Dog’s tiny, black nose twitched as he sniffed at the unfamiliar surroundings. His brown eyes looked from child to child and he wagged his little tail vigorously.

Adam snatched the beagle out of the box and cradled him against his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Uncle Luke. You’re the best uncle in the whole world.”

Rachel quickly seconded that thought. Luke chuckled to himself. The title of best uncle really wasn’t that difficult to earn, as their Uncle Robert rarely, if ever, laid eyes on the children.

Before Luke could respond, little Emma threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad Mama didn’t kill you.”

Guilt instantly flooded him. Rachel had blackmailed him for a horse, and he had bribed Adam with a dog, but he hadn’t brought a thing for poor, little Emma. He kissed one of her tiny rosy cheeks. “Emmie, is there something you want from Uncle Luke?”

She shook her head and smiled happily. “I just want you to visit more.”

Now he truly felt like a cad. He tapped her nose and winked at her. “Done, my little angel.”

He watched for a while as the three children gathered around Demon Dog, which Adam had promptly renamed Nelson. They giggled and squealed with delight as the puppy ran around the room, knocking over Rachel’s easel and crashing into a box of paints. They were delightful.

Perhaps domesticity wasn’t so bad.

Luke snorted at the thought and then pushed it away as quickly as it had entered his mind. He didn’t want domesticity; he just enjoyed watching it every now and then. He quietly left the children playing with the puppy, determined to go back to his rooms, fall across his bed, and sleep for a week.

Just as he approached the front door, Merton materialized at his side to open it for him. With a snort, Luke waived the old man off. He pulled open the door and his heart jumped to his throat. Emerging from a coach at the base of the steps was Caroline, Georgie, and Juliet.

Bloody hell!

He wasn’t prepared to see Juliet. Not yet. He needed more time to plan the perfect thing to say. He needed a good night’s rest, and he most certainly didn’t need an audience.

He knew his disappointment showed on his face, especially as Caroline angrily glared at him and sighed. Loudly. “Lucas, I don’t recall summoning you.”

His sister airily brushed past him into her entranceway, Georgie quick on her heels. Juliet followed the other women, though she held back a bit, meeting Luke’s eyes with a questioning look.

Reluctantly, Luke closed the door and met his sister’s fiery gaze. He couldn’t tell her he’d been to Sussex, because she might mention it to Rachel. Then he’d be in for it. And he couldn’t tell her that he’d been to Dorset, because Caroline would probably mention it in her regular correspondence with Robert—and he wouldn’t want to have to explain that. “I needed to make a trip that couldn’t be put off.”

“Well, heaven forbid you tell your sister when you’re going to just up and disappear. Instead, I think you should make her wonder endlessly about what happened to you, and where you are, and if you’re alive or dead.”

Luke’s head began to throb. Why must Caroline be so damned melodramatic? Why couldn’t she just thank him for stopping by and be a normal sister—and not the bloody harridan he saw before him? Before he could compose a question that wasn’t quite so offensive, Caroline turned her back on him without another word, and swept down the corridor and around a corner in a huff. As before, Georgie was right behind her.

Unfortunately, Juliet remained standing where she was. A worried frown had settled upon her pretty face and he cringed when he met her eyes. There was no other woman like her in the world, and he was going to regret this for the rest of his life—but he’d gone over this in his head countless times. No matter how much it killed him, he had to end things. It was for her own good and he would never again dally with a respectable girl. Those unions never turned out well.

***

“I missed you,” Juliet blurted out, and then blushed when he only stared at her.

Why was he just looking at her like that? It was some combination of sorrow, anger, and—strangely enough—desire. He looked tortured. “Luke?”

He took a small step toward her, and then seemed to think better of it and moved backward. He frowned and took a long breath. “I’ve been thinking, Juliet…”

“So have I,” she began and watched him fidget uncomfortably with his pocket watch.  Luke never fidgeted. He was always so carefree. What had happened to make him so anxious?

He shook his head, though he kept his green eyes focused on hers. “This isn’t going to work, princess. I can’t be the man you want. You must know that on some level.”

What has he talking about? He was exactly the man she wanted. There were no strings attached with Luke. She didn’t have to worry about marriage with him. She loved his unrepentant philosophy of life. She was always free to be herself around him. And she loved the way he made her feel. Juliet stepped toward him, a question in her eyes. “What do you think I want, Luke?”

His brow furrowed even more and he started to reach for her, but then drew his hand back. “More than I can give you. It’ll be best for everyone if we just go our separate ways before this goes any further.”

He was ending things between them?

Just like that?

A numbness spread across Juliet, though she managed to nod her head and force a fraudulent smile to her lips, determined not to follow Louisa Ridgemont’s example. “I see.” Though she didn’t. She willed herself to be strong. She would not cry, though tears began to pool in her eyes. She would not speak with a quivering voice, though a lump had lodged firmly in her throat. And she would not fall to pieces, though her heart was shattered. She would remain in control of her emotions—at least until she was alone. “I appreciate your honesty.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “I suppose this is goodbye.”

“Indeed,” he answered with a curt nod.

Juliet couldn’t meet his eyes. “Best of luck.”

Then she turned and walked away from him, down the corridor as smoothly as she could force herself—until she turned the corner. Juliet fell against the wall with a soft thud, as the first wave of tears began to stream down her face. She cried silently until she heard the large oak door shut—knowing that he was truly gone now.

Juliet stumbled into the first room she came to, which had to be the music room. Even through her pouring eyes, she could make out a pianoforte in the middle of the floor and a harpsichord in one corner.

She collapsed upon a small chaise, now not holding back any tears, but letting them fall freely. She no longer wondered if she loved the rogue. Her heart wouldn’t ache like this if she didn’t. How was she to go on without him?

Suddenly, a comforting hand touched her back, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned to lay eyes on the interloper.

Caroline Staveley had tears in her own eyes. “My darling girl, I am so sorry.” Then Caroline knelt beside her at the edge of the chaise and wrapped her arms around Juliet, crying with her, comforting her.

When Juliet managed to pull herself together, Caroline brushed away the last tears from her cheeks. “I think I really shall strangle him.”

A gurgled sob escaped Juliet’s throat, and Caroline squeezed her hand warmly. “No, don’t start that again—you’ll make me start and I won’t allow that lout to make my cheeks puffy. Listen, darling, I won’t claim to know what is going on in my brother’s mind.” She frowned and stared off toward the pianoforte. “But I do know that he cares about you.”

Juliet shook her head. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to go home, fall into bed, and never come out again.

Caroline unconsciously tapped two piano keys with her graceful fingers. She looked a million miles away, but softly spoke. “Our brother Robert has a theory about Lucas. Would you like to know it?”

Not unless it would make the pain in her chest go away. Juliet shrugged, noncommittally.

With a sweet smile, Caroline suddenly refocused on her and continued. “Robert says that Luke was very close to our mother. I never knew her, as she died the same way yours did, with my birth. Luke was five at the time, and Robert says that our mother doted on him. She adored him, and he was enamored with her. Apparently, he took her death very hard. More so than anyone else, our father included. Robert says that Luke curled up in a ball and wouldn’t speak to anyone for more than a month.”

That was terribly sad, though Juliet couldn’t imagine why Caroline was telling her this about Luke. It didn’t have anything to do with the situation at hand.

“Women love him, and he certainly enjoys them—but love, real affection… Well, that’s an entirely different matter. Robert has always contended that Luke is incapable of such emotions—that part of him is still that little boy, afraid to open his heart to anyone. But I’ve seen him, Juliet. I’ve seen him with you. There’s a glow about him when he’s with you. It’s as if he’s truly happy—not the carefree façade he hides behind.”

“I don’t think he’s terribly happy with me.” He could barely look at her during their last conversation.

Caroline walked back across the room and squeezed Juliet’s hand. “I think he’s just frightened but doesn’t know it. He’ll come to his senses, and—”

Juliet managed to shake her head at that. “He meant what he said.” She’d seen the resignation in his eyes. Whatever had happened to make him reject her, he was determined not to see her again.

“He thinks he does,” Caroline amended. “Do you truly care for him, darling?”

Did she care for Luke? Shattered heart and all, she still did—more than anything. She was certain she always would. “Yes,” she whispered.

Caroline embraced her again and rubbed her back, soothingly. “Then I’ll figure something out.”

Juliet sat back and shook her head vehemently. “You mustn’t. I won’t follow him around like a sad, little puppy. I don’t want to be like Lady Ridgemont, or—”

With a determined shake of her head, Caroline met her eyes. “Trust me, you are not even remotely similar to Louisa. And you can’t give up that easily, Juliet—not if you truly care for him. I know you’ve got some fight in you.”

Juliet simply blinked at Caroline Staveley. She’d never contemplated such a thing before. Did women fight for men? Did she have it in her to fight for Luke? Not if he didn’t want her. She would not make a fool of herself. But was Caroline right? Was he simply frightened?

Caroline grinned devilishly, and Juliet realized for the first time that she and Luke had the same smile. “He’ll come around. Trust me, I know my brother. Just don’t give up yet and promise to go along with whatever plan I come up with.”

She wasn’t sure why she found herself nodding to that, but Caroline seemed so certain. And she did want Luke.

~12 ~

Brothers were such bothersome creatures. Just as Caroline was certain that Luke had found the perfect woman for him, he’d gone and gotten cold feet. Though she supposed that might be natural for a man who had spent the majority of his life skirt chasing. Settling on only one could be a bit frightening—or so the Duke of Kelfield had once explained to her

In Caroline’s opinion, Luke just needed a little push. Unfortunately, until him, Juliet hadn’t shown any interest at all in any of the men that surrounded her. Therefore Luke probably felt secure that none of them could snatch her away from him. He was taking the girl’s affection for granted.

What she needed to do was put a little fear in him. A little jealousy would work nicely. The problem with that was Luke wouldn’t be jealous of just anyone. Her vain brother was confident his devastatingly handsome looks and his clever wit—few could compare to him. But surely there must be someone the scoundrel would be jealous of. Someone also devastatingly handsome. Someone also quite clever. Someone women adored, to their own detriment. Someone like Luke, only more dangerous.

Caroline smiled mischievously, and she sipped her tea. The answer was perfectly clear, especially as the perfect specimen had just walked into her parlor.

Alexander Everett, the Duke of Kelfield, stood in the open doorway with a quizzical look on his strikingly handsome face. He was tall, slender, and broad shouldered. His thick ebony hair and silvery grey eyes made him appear to be Lucifer himself, intent on sin and debauchery.

He was perfect.

Alexander looked back toward the corridor and gestured with a wave of his hand. “Caro, you really need to pension that man off. He’s a deaf as a door nail. I asked for Lord Staveley.”

He was obviously referring to poor Merton, who really was as old as Methuselah. But the old fellow resisted any talk of retirement, as did Staveley, who swore he’d be lost without the ancient butler. “I know, darling, but David is so fond of him.” With a slow grace, Caroline rose from her seat and crossed the room toward the devilish duke. “And you have missed Staveley. He has gone out with Carteret for the afternoon.”

“Well, that explains why James wasn’t at home either.”

Caroline grinned at him slyly. “Visiting all of your respectable friends today, are you?”

He winked at her. “Saucy tongued tart.”

“You’re such a flatterer, Alexander,” she cooed back. “David will hate that he missed you. But he’s out shopping.”

“Shopping?” He furrowed his brow. She enjoyed the look on his face. No one who knew David well could easily envision her reclusive husband shopping.

“Well, my birthday is just around the corner, darling, and Staveley always has such difficulty picking out just the right bauble. So it was kismet that I happened to mention the ruby tiara I so desperately want to Bethany Carteret last week.”

“What a coincidence,” Alexander remarked dryly as she hooked her arm in his and led him back toward the chaise. “Caroline, do the men in your life know you pull all the strings?”

She giggled. “I believe Masten is on to me. But you’ll keep my secret, won’t you, Alex?”

“Always, my dear,” he responded as they settled onto the chaise.

“How fortuitous for me that Staveley is out and Merton is deaf, because, Alexander darling, I was just thinking about you right before you walked in.”

His dark brows quirked upward and he grinned rakishly. “Indeed? Well, how terribly unfortunate for me, in that case. You haven’t once again decided that it’s time for me to marry, have you, Caro?”

On the contrary, it was quite past time for Alexander to settle down and find a proper wife. Though the devil had always avoided the swarms of nice girls she tried to push in his direction. “Alexander, what would you say if I told you I’d refrain from foisting anymore young ladies upon you?”

His handsome face looked quite serious, and he rubbed his brow as if to stave off a headache. “I’d say, my dear, that you have some nefarious plan you want my help with.”

How wonderful to associate with intelligent men, that one didn’t have to spell everything out for. “Indeed. Are you familiar with Lady Juliet St. Claire?”

He stared at her, half bemused. “No, and I can’t imagine where you’re going with this.”

Caroline smiled reassuringly as she grasped his hands in hers. “I’ve decided that she would make a splendid sister-in-law for me. Honestly, darling, she is the one for Luke. But alas my brother is as stubborn as you are. So, let me explain your role…”

***

Juliet had never met the infamous Duke of Kelfield, though she had heard of him. Then again, everyone had heard of him. He was rumored to be the most morally depraved man in all of England, perhaps all of Europe. It was said that he’d founded a social group fashioned after Dashwood’s Hell-Fire Club from half a century earlier. It was said that he had fathered more than two dozen children. It was said that he regularly debauched virgins, had installed a troop of female acrobats in his Mayfair townhouse, and had once even seduced the wife of a vicar.

He was quite a scandalous figure, to put it mildly.

Therefore, Juliet had been completely shocked when Caroline Staveley announced at tea that the duke had offered to escort them all to the Hollingsworth Ball that very evening. Georgie had bristled at the idea, but Juliet welcomed it. She wasn’t quite sure what Caroline was up to, but she was more than willing to give it a shot.

But the Duke of Kelfield? Juliet was surprised that Caroline even associated with a man of his reputation. Even still, she was surprised when he arrived with Caroline at the appointed hour to escort her and Georgie to the Hollingsworth Ball.

The room seemed to shrink in size when Kelfield stepped into the parlor. The wicked duke exuded sensuality and his steely grey gaze seemed to assess her immediately. It was the first time she ever felt naked, though she was fully clothed.

While Caroline and Georgie were chatting quietly in the corner, the duke made his way directly to Juliet’s side. “Lady Juliet, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed then smiled roguishly as he let his gaze roam across her figure.

“Your Grace.” She curtseyed in return.

Kelfield took her gloved hand in his and raised it to his lips and fixed his silvery eyes on hers. “So you are the one.”

“The one?” Juliet blinked up at him.

“Hmm,” the duke responded with a conspiratorial dip of his head. “Caroline has been trying to convince me for years that everyone has the one, their perfect match, waiting for them. She seems to believe that you are the one for Beckford.”

Juliet smiled at him. “Am I to take it that you disagree with her assessment?”

His silver eyes twinkled mischievously. “I don’t believe in such foolish romanticism. And Luke doesn’t either.”

She discovered she was chewing her lip and forced herself to stop. “You know him well?”

He responded with a slight incline of his head. “Better than even his sister realizes.”

Juliet considered all that she’d ever heard about the devilish duke. Exactly how well did he know Lucas? Then it hit her. “Your Hell-Fire Club?” she brazenly asked.

Kelfield’s eyes danced with delight. “A gentleman would never answer that—”

But of course he wasn’t one.

“And a proper Lady would never ask,” he continued as an appreciative smile spread across his face. “Tell me, sweetheart, is Beckford the one for you?”

She nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes.”

“My loss, then.” He winked at her. “Very well, my dear. I know precisely how to drive Beckford to a raging distraction. Just follow my lead, and no ‘Your Gracing’ me. I detest it. Besides, if you call me Alexander, with a soft little breathy thing to your voice, he’ll go positively mad and fall at your feet.”

Her eyes must be as round as saucers as she listened to him. “I don’t know that I want him at my feet.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s exactly where you want him.” Then Kelfield—er, Alexander roared with laughter as she tried to deduce the double meaning she was certain was there.

***

Luke sat alone, slumped in the far back table of The Blue Crow’s Social Club, but it was a gaming hell, irrespective of what they called it. Intermittent groans and cheers could be heard from the hazard tables while the card players sat quietly studying their opponents along the side walls of the club.

Thank God for the Scots and their whiskey, Luke thought to himself as he downed another glass of the heavenly amber substance. He lost track of how much he’d had, and was glad that numbness had started to spread across his body, blocking out feelings, unwanted thoughts, and painful images of Juliet’s pretty face as he had ended their acquaintance. She’d tried to hide her hurt, but he’d seen it and it had made the entire ordeal that much more painful. No matter how many times he told himself it was for her own good, his heart ached. His heart, the one muscle members of the ton were certain he lacked.

Just as he was motioning for a refill, an enormous ham-hock of a hand slapped him across the back. “Fancy meeting you here, Beckford,” came the booming baritone voice of the Marquess of Astwick.

The last thing Luke wanted now was to deal with the gregarious marquess. He was in a terrible mood, and he intended to stay that way and suffer alone. “Bugger off, Chet.”

Most people would have the decency to be offended by that or in the very least leave him in peace, but not Astwick, who laughed loudly and fell into the spot opposite Luke. “You charm is legendary, as always. Actually, old man, I’m surprised to see you here. Am I to take it that there’s trouble in paradise?”

“At the risk of repeating myself, go bugger off, Astwick.”

“Ah.” The marquess nodded understandingly. “If I was thrown over for Kelfield, I wouldn’t want to talk about it either. Don’t worry, Luke, I won’t say another word about it.”

Thrown over for Kelfield? What the devil was the fool talking about? Astwick usually made some sort of sense. Perhaps he’d had too much whiskey. “What about Kelfield?”

Astwick’s toothy grin did nothing but annoy Luke, so he tried to ignore it. “I just left the Hollingsworth ball. And your sweet Lady Juliet was hanging on Kelfield’s arm, looking all doe-eyed up at him. Then I see you here, deep in your cups. I just assumed—”

Luke jumped to his feet, which was a mistake, as he nearly stumbled backward. He grasped the table to steady himself and glared into Astwick’s shocked face. “Juliet St. Claire is on Kelfield’s arm?” he asked incredulously.

The smile vanished from Astwick’s face, and the marquess nodded with a frown. “Sorry, old man. I assumed you knew.”

The devil he did. Luke started toward the door. He stumbled at first, but the adrenaline that started pumping through his veins battled with the whiskey for control. By the time he’d reached the hell’s front doors and hailed a hack, he was as sober as a vicar on Sunday morning.

Kelfield? Kelfield! For God’s sake, had she completely lost her mind? And how could Georgie have let this happen? She shadowed Luke’s every move, but she let Kelfield near her sister? And how did he not know Juliet was acquainted with the most depraved man in London? Question after question flooded his mind while anxiety warred in his heart.

The Hollingsworth ball. Would she still be there when he arrived? Surely Kelfield wouldn’t attempt anything with a ballroom full of witnesses. Juliet had to be marginally safe—unless the blackguard had hauled her into a secluded room, or the back balcony, or God forbid his coach.

When the hack stopped near a large Mayfair home, the driver yelled down to him, “Close as I can git, Guv’nor. Unless ye want t’ wait fer some o’ this mess t’ clear up. Lot o’ swells o’er ‘ere.”

Wait? Like hell. Luke threw open the door, paid the driver and walked the last few blocks to his destination.

When he entered the Hollingsworth ballroom, Luke’s eyes scanned the room for any sign of Juliet—praying that Astwick had simply been mistaken. She could not be on Kelfield’s arm. But to his utter dismay, there on the dance floor, the wicked duke held Juliet in his arms, a bit closer than society deemed proper and much too close for Luke’s comfort. Though to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t at all comfortable with Kelfield being in the same room with Juliet, let alone waltzing with her or touching her.

He decided almost at once that he liked it much better in the days when she refused to dance at all. At least then she’d been safe.

Luke folded his arms across his chest, his gaze transfixed on his princess. She was simply breathtaking tonight, wearing a deep blue gown with her hair piled loosely on her head. Sapphire pins blinked at him from across the room. Images of removing those pins from her hair and running his fingers through her mane rushed into his mind.

Just as Luke’s thoughts were starting to get enjoyable, the duke threw back his head and laughed at some clever witticism Juliet had apparently made, and Luke’s blood began to boil all over again. What was she doing with him? Why did Kelfield get to enjoy her company? Why did Kelfield get to hold her too close for propriety? And why did Kelfield have a distinctly lascivious twinkle in his eyes?

Being noble was a goddamned bloody nuisance. He was well and through with emulating that ridiculous virtue. If he could just get her alone, he’d end this farce.

“You look like a storm cloud, Luke,” came Caroline’s soft voice from behind him.

He scowled as his sister placed her hand lightly on his arm. All he needed was Caroline to meddle in his life to make him completely miserable. “I warn you, my temper is not in check, Caro. Tread lightly.”

Caroline grinned at that, and Luke had a sinking feeling that despite his best efforts she knew everything that was going on. “You’re fortunate I’m even speaking to you after that little puppy incident. Poor Staveley has been sneezing left and right, and yet he refuses to let Adam give the little fellow up, since he adores him so. You are truly vindictive.”

Staveley and the puppy were the last things on Luke’s mind, as he kept his eyes glued to Juliet.

“Besides,” Caroline continued softly, “I don’t know why you’d be angry with me anyway, darling. I’ve been trying to help you.”

He snapped his head in his sister’s direction. No man ever wanted Caroline’s help, and he was no different. Just the idea made him shudder. “Oh, and just what have you been up to?”

“Well,” Caroline replied airily, “since you were tired of playing Juliet’s escort, I found you a replacement. No need to thank me. Alexander was more than willing to take your place. I mean, just because you broke the bargain with Juliet doesn’t mean she should be left unprotected, and—”

Luke’s eyes flew back across the ballroom where it appeared Kelfield had towed Juliet even closer to him, if that was possible. The duke’s hand splayed possessively across her back and his legs were completely hidden in her skirts. The lecherous bastard! Luke’s his face grew hot, and his jaw clenched. “Kelfield?” he bit out angrily. “You’ve thrown her into the arms of that blackguard?”

“Blackguard?” she echoed with a giggle. “Please! Alexander is simply charming. Besides, I don’t know why you’re overly concerned about it. Juliet seems happy and you’re off the hook. Isn’t that what you wanted, darling?”

As if on cue, he could hear his princess’ melodic laugh over the sea of people, and his insides shook with rage. What made things worse was the fact that he knew, in the pit of his stomach, that Caroline was somehow using Kelfield to manipulate him—and yet he was still powerless to do anything about it. “You think thrusting her into Kelfield’s path is keeping her safe? That lecher wouldn’t think twice about compromising her.”

Caroline frowned slightly at that. “Watch yourself, Lucas, I seem to recall that you seduced and ruined a girl much younger than Juliet, and then left Robert to find a solution to the problem.”

Luke narrowed his eyes on his sister. How dare she throw that at him? This wasn’t even remotely the same situation. In the first place, Lydia wasn’t at all what she seemed, and never in a million years would he have thought that his morally upstanding brother would have married the little tart in his stead. And secondly, in this case he was the one trying to protect Juliet from lecherous bastards, himself included. “You don’t know the first thing about it, Caroline. And my temper is getting worse, so I suggest you go find someone else to pester.”

The agonizing waltz had finally come to an end, much to Luke’s relief. But then his lungs seized when he realized Kelfield was leading Juliet out on to the balcony. He would kill the bastard with his bare hands. Without another word to his sister, he stormed off after the disappearing pair, his heart pounding viciously in his chest.

A cool, spring breeze blew lightly across the balcony and assaulted Luke when he first stepped outside. But the crisp air did nothing to dampen his temper as his eyes fell on Kelfield, his arm draped lazily over Juliet’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear.

Juliet was staring up at the duke with her big, innocent eyes. Awe-struck, it appeared. Luke felt the last shards of his temper snap. “Kelfield!” he barked, stalking toward the pair.

The wicked duke raised his head and one black eye brow arched upward. “Ah, Beckford. I was just asking after you.”

“Were you, indeed?” Luke replied. His eyes landed on Juliet, though she avoided his gaze altogether.

She attempted to wiggle out of Kelfield’s hold and finally the duke released her, though his gaze settled on Juliet’s low-cut bodice. She was nearly spilling out of the bloody dress. Truly, what had Caroline been thinking to put Juliet in this cur’s clutches?

Then Juliet smiled up at Kelfield, which made every muscle in Luke’s body tense. “Alexander,” she began softly, “would you mind giving me a moment with Mr. Beckford?”

Alexander? Luke’s hands twitched. He hadn’t known he could become more enraged, but when Juliet called the scoundrel by his first name, Luke thought he might strangle the life out of the lout right there on the Hollingsworth balcony. No doubt men across London would thank him for his troubles.

Apparently, the duke noticed the murderous look in his eyes, for he stared at Luke, as if assessing his demeanor or, perhaps, chances of survival. Finally, Kelfield’s lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Not at all, my dear. There’s someone I need to speak to anyway. But don’t keep me waiting long, love. I’m not a very patient man.”

After a regal bow in Juliet’s direction, Kelfield made his exit back into the ballroom, leaving Luke and Juliet staring at each other.

He was so furious, he didn’t know what to say or where to begin. So it was lucky that she started.

“I was under the impression that our paths wouldn’t cross anymore, Luke.”

He refused to be baited. “Just what do you think you’re doing out here with him?” Luke hissed and pointed toward the door Kelfield had just walked through.

Juliet turned her back on him and leaned against a stone pillar, looking out on the darkened night. “Getting a breath of fresh air and Alexander was kind enough to accompany me.”

“I’ll just bet he was.” Luke quickly closed the gap between them and unconsciously reached out to stroke her neck, which was the wrong thing to do. The spark that was between them had not diminished one bit, and as he touched her soft skin, all his resolve to keep his distance from her washed away. “Princess, you shouldn’t associate with depraved blackguards like Kelfield.”

She turned from her spot and stared up at him, the moonlight reflecting in her dark eyes. “I suppose I should only associate with depraved blackguards like you?”

His thoughts precisely.

When he lowered his head to capture her mouth, she melted against him. Luke wrapped his arms around her, molding her body to his. After his tongue danced across her lips, she opened for him and he surged inside, tasting her, devouring her.

“I’m not any good for you, Juliet,” he whispered as he gazed down at her, finally catching his breath. “If you were smart, you’d run the other way.”

When Juliet peered up into his eyes and smiled, he felt it all the way down to his toes. “I must not be very smart.” Then she slid her arms up his chest and wrapped them around his neck, pulling his lips back to meet hers.

He was instantly lost to her. His hands inched up her ribcage until her breasts filled his palms. She felt heavenly and he couldn’t help himself from rubbing his thumbs across her peaked nipples. He needed to taste her, to have her naked beneath him.

But the Hollingsworths’ balcony was the exact wrong place to do this—unless they wanted to be discovered and forced into a marriage that neither of them wanted. Besides, he wanted to make this first time special for her, something she’d always remember fondly.

Luke managed to pull himself away from her. She was breathing heavily and her heavenly breasts were rising and falling at a rate that made it difficult for him to maintain his composure. “I’ve tried to be noble, Juliet, but it’s just not in me. If I can’t have you, I think I will burst.” He then shifted uncomfortably, to keep that part of him that was aching to burst from her view.

She blushed very prettily as her eyes dropped demurely. Demurely. Juliet was never demure. That must mean she was weakening. Luke stepped forward, and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips. “Please, princess, let me have you,” he whispered. “Let me make love to you.”

Juliet’s eyes slowly rose to meet his and she swallowed. Apparently unable to speak, she simply nodded.

Relief washed over him and he stroked the nape of her neck with the pad of his thumb, feeling her heartbeat race at his touch. “I’ll be in the Prestwick courtyard in an hour. Meet me there, princess.”

***

It was the most reckless thing she’d ever contemplated, but as she stared into the depths of his tempting, green eyes, Juliet could not refuse him. In fact, she had no desire to refuse him whatsoever. She wanted this. She wanted him. The last week had made her certain of that. She slowly realized that she was grinning like a fool, so she nodded her head in agreement.

An assignation with Luke Beckford. How would she get home within the hour? She’d have to find Georgie and plead a headache, wait for the coach, and rush home.

Then with absolutely no warning at all, Luke leapt over the side of the balcony into the hedges below. Juliet’s heart lodged in her throat and she raced to the edge of the balcony, staring into the darkened bushes, hoping for a sign of the man she loved. “Lucas! Are you all right?”

The bushes were shaking and she heard him chuckling beneath her. Chuckling? He’d taken five years off her life when he’d gone over the edge. And he was chuckling? “Have you quite lost your mind?” she demanded.

Luke now stood beneath her in the moonlight, with one arm outstretched and the other on his hip in a very thespian pose. “‘What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East and Juliet is the sun!’”

Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet?

Juliet rolled her eyes heavenward. The man had lost his mind or he was deeply in his cups. Now that she thought of it, he did taste a bit like whiskey when he’d kissed her. Best not focus on that kiss or she’d never get to Prestwick House in time. “Really, Luke, quoting the Bard? I would expect something a bit more original from a seducer of your reputation.”

He grinned up at her with a boyish charm that melted her heart. “Sorry, princess. I couldn’t resist. How many times does one have one’s own personal Juliet up on a balcony?”

He really was very charismatic.

Juliet tried to suppress a smile, but failed miserably. Instead, she leaned over the balcony again and blew him a kiss. “One hour. Prestwick courtyard.”

Luke bowed elegantly with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “I’m your humble servant, my lady.” Then he disappeared into the darkness of the Hollingsworth gardens.

Juliet gulped and steadied her shoulders. Prestwick courtyard. One hour. She didn’t have much time.

***

Caroline watched as Juliet floated back in from the balcony with an enormous smile plastered on her face. Her plan had gone simply as—well, as planned. Turning to Alexander on her right, she grinned appreciatively. “Darling, you are a genius.”

Alexander pierced her with his silvery gaze. “And you, my dear, are a truly evil woman. I almost feel sorry for Beckford. Quite unfair what you did to him.”

Perhaps, but Caroline refused to feel any guilt over it at all. Luke needed help and she’d supplied it. She leaned closer to Alexander and tapped his chest with her fan. “What we did, darling. You played your role marvelously. How can I ever repay you?”

The duke looked back toward the balcony doors and grimaced. “By never doing that to me. As long as you keep your end of the deal and forgo foisting any more nice young girls upon me, I’ll consider us even.” Then he grinned down at her wolfishly. “I much prefer foisting them upon myself, and that they not be so nice.”

Caroline nodded her acceptance, though she knew her mind would search for a loophole to their agreement later—when she had more time. After all, Alexander would be much happier if he could just find he one for him. But…Well, she’d have to focus on that at another time. For the moment, her scoundrel of a brother was her top priority—being a blood relation and all that.

~13 ~

Juliet was glad that she was in a hurry. She was so focused on her goal that she didn’t have time to contemplate the decision she’d made about Luke. Surprisingly, she persuaded Georgie to remain at the Hollingsworth’s while she went home alone. It was easier than she’d expected, most likely aided by the fact that the Duke of Kelfield was not accompanying her. It took nearly half an hour for the duke’s coach to be brought around, and Juliet was on pins and needles the entire time, worried about what Luke would do or think if she were late.

But she wasn’t late.

After making her way past an unusually nosy Crawford and pretending to retire for the evening, Juliet snuck back into the courtyard. At first she didn’t see Luke, and she started to wonder if he’d changed his mind or had been delayed by something unforeseen. But then she spotted him in the shadows of the hedgerow—his snowy white cravat reflecting in the soft moonlight and the end of his cheroot a smoldering red.

She tried to calm her racing heart. Had she thought this through clearly? Really, what was she doing here at night with him? But the answer to that question echoed in her soul. She loved Luke Beckford, perhaps foolishly, but she loved him just the same. “Good evening,” she greeted him softly.

Luke stepped out from the shadows and dropped the cheroot to the ground. Juliet’s breath caught in her throat—the playful rogue from beneath the balcony was gone, replaced by a man with hungry eyes that held her gaze. He said nothing to her, but closed the gap between them and hauled her into his arms, ravishing her mouth.

All thoughts left Juliet’s mind. She could only feel—the way Luke stroked her back with his expert hands; the solid strength of his arms and chest; the way her body reacted to his, wanting much more than he’d given her thus far.

He raised his head and framed her face in his hands. “What is your desire, princess? Do you want to safely remain here? Or come with me? My coach is waiting on the other side of that gate.” He gestured toward the back of the courtyard with his head.

As if she wouldn’t go with him. She’d been waiting for this for too long. “Where are we going?”

His toothy grin reflected in the moonlight, and Juliet’s heart leapt as he draped his arm about her waist and began to tow her toward the courtyard gate. “It’s a surprise.”

Before she knew it, they were flying down Upper Brook Street toward her uncertain future. But she didn’t have long to contemplate the path she’d chosen, as Luke didn’t give her any time to think. He held her securely on his lap. Touching her. Kissing her.

One wicked hand slid up under her dress and found her ankle. Then he began to inch his way up her leg, sending searing heat and spirals of desire straight to the apex of her thighs. She had never felt so deliriously wanton in her entire life. She would happily go off to her own execution, if he’d just keep touching her.

And touch her he did.

His strong hand grasped one of her knees and he groaned into her mouth. His strength was seductive. Her skin burned where he touched her, and she lost her breath as his hand continued its journey up her thigh. She had never dreamed of anyone touching her here, and then he went even higher. Juliet thought she would expire on the spot when he untied the ribbon of her drawers and slid his hand inside the gaping material.

Luke kissed her softly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, at the same time his finger trailed through her springy curls and gently touched her there. Need surged through her, a need she didn’t quite understand, but knew that only he could assuage. She arched against his long finger as it delved inside her soft opening.

Dear God, she’d never felt anything like that before.

His finger twitched inside her, and Juliet thought she would come apart. “Luke!”

He chuckled against her lips and moved his finger out of her and then slid it back in with methodical procession, over and over, until her head was spinning and she found it difficult to breath.

“Do you like that, princess?”

She couldn’t speak, so she simply nodded and then gasped when he made his finger twitch again. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, tangling with her own. So many things were happening at once she couldn’t concentrate—she could only feel.

Then the coach came to a halt. Luke’s grin grew wide as he smoothed her skirts back in place. “We’re here.”

Juliet wasn’t certain where here was. And she must have looked frightened, because Luke softly kissed the corner of her jaw and whispered, “There’s nothing to worry about, princess. I’ve got you.”

Then he pushed open the door and lifted her in his arms. Juliet gasped from surprise, but quickly recovered her composure as Luke settled her on the ground near the docks where his yacht silently awaited them.

The night sky was reflected in the calm, dark waters of the Thames, and Juliet felt her racing heart start to slow back down toward its normal rhythm. Then Luke’s hand was on the small of her back, guiding her up the gangplank, and his warm, citrus-scented breath was on her cheek. “Just a few more steps, princess.”

A few more steps and her life would never be the same again. Though, honestly, it hadn’t been the same since he’d entered it. A moment later, Juliet found herself standing on the yacht’s massive deck, staring up at the crescent-shaped moon above them.  It looked different in the dead of night. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

From behind her, Luke encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her against his chest, resting his chin on her head. Everything felt perfect, the peaceful water, the cloudless sky, the powerfully seductive man at her back. Juliet covered his hands with hers and sighed.

“Are you cold?” Luke asked softly and pulled her more securely against him, the evidence of his desire pressing against her bottom.

Hardly! She didn’t think she’d ever been so warm, with his strong chest and arms surrounding her. A giggle escaped her throat at his suggestion.

“Nervous?” he asked and dropped a kiss behind her ear.

Now, nervous—that was more on the mark. She turned in his arms and ran her fingers up his chest, settling them on his broad shoulders. “Shouldn’t I be?”

His heart-stopping grin, the one she’d fallen in love with, spread across his face and his devilish, green eyes twinkled. “Do you trust me?” he countered.

Strangely, she did. She would trust him with her life, and hopes, and dreams. Juliet simply nodded her head.

Luke kissed the tip of her nose and then stepped away from her, taking her hand in his. He led her to the rear of the deck and down the darkened stairs they’d once traveled together before.

Below deck, it was darker than the night and Juliet couldn’t see a thing, but Luke’s warm hand continued to direct her down what seemed a long, narrow corridor. Then he stopped and pushed open a door. Still it was dark as pitch, and Juliet sucked in a surprised gulp of air when he released her hand and she was suddenly alone in the darkness.

But a moment later a candle came to life, warmly glowing in the corner of the room. And though it was still fairly dark, Juliet recognized that she was in the room he’d taken her to weeks earlier when Rachel Benton had discovered them. Luke tugged at his cravat as he crossed the floor, where Juliet still stood glued to her spot.

Apparently, she was more nervous than she’d thought. She swallowed anxiously.

But his lazy smiled was comforting and when he reached her, Juliet sighed. He was so magnificent. He ran a hand through his golden hair and arched one eyebrow. “My lady.” He offered her his hand.

Juliet followed him to the large, four-poster bed. This was it. The moment of truth. The end to her life as an innocent.  Juliet decided she didn’t much care about that. Being with Luke, making love to him was something she desperately wanted. Besides, no one would ever know. Just the two of them.

“You’re shaking, princess.” Luke ran his hands down her arms.

“I’m fine.” She smiled up at him, and was relieved when he gently caressed the side of her neck.

Then he pulled her into his embrace and simply held her against him. Luke started to gently run his hands down her sides, warming her from the inside out. Then he dipped his head and began to nuzzle her neck. Before she knew what was happening, her dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet.

She looked up into his green eyes and pulled the ribbon ties to her chemise, letting the silk drop to the ground and leaving her only in her drawers. It was a bold thing to do, but she wanted him to know that she, too, was eager. That she wanted this. That she wanted him.

His eyes dropped to her now bare breasts and he sucked in a breath. “Sweet Lucifer, you’re beautiful.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that, and she cupped his jaw in her hands. “Touch me, Luke.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. In the blink of an eye, Juliet found herself flat on her back and Luke hovering over her on his knees. He sucked one aching nipple into his mouth, and she moaned from the fire it stoked in her. His sinful tongue circled her and circled her before he nipped at her ruched peak. She thought she would expire on the spot.

Desire shot straight through to her core, the place he’d teased her in the coach. The place he was now rubbing through her drawers. “Lucas,” she panted, “you have entirely too many clothes on.”

He chuckled, though his mouth didn’t leave her breast. The he sucked her harder and harder, until she nearly arched off the bed. Finally, he lifted his head and grinned down at her. “I should have known that you’d be impatient, Juliet.”

Then he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it across the room. She’d never seen him in only shirtsleeves before, and she quite enjoyed the sight against the flickering candlelight. He looked strong and...

He slid his shirt over his head and tossed it over his shoulder, then placed his hands on his trouser buttons. He was all muscle and sinew, and a dusting of dark golden hair. His eyes bored into hers and she swallowed. She had been right to think he was Adonis. A more beautiful man didn’t exist.  She drank in the sight of him, but he was now staring at her with a very peculiar look in his eye.

“You first, princess.”

“Me first? She echoed in confusion.

Luke’s fingers left his waistband and untied the silk ribbon tie of her drawers. Then he settled next to her on the bed, and slid the one remaining article of clothing from her body. Her eyes flew to his, and he splayed his hand across her belly. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Juliet. I need you.”

Juliet ran her hand along his naked chest and felt his muscles contract with her touch. “What are you waiting for?”

He moved his fingers even lower across her body and slid them between her curls, that she was surprised felt damp against her legs. He dipped one long finger back inside her and her entire body tensed at the heavenly invasion. “To make it perfect,” he answered before nibbling on the hollow of her neck.

She was truly delectable and Luke was certain he was going to explode before he could ever bury himself inside her. When she clenched around his finger, it was his undoing. He’d tried to prepare her body for him. To make her as wet as possible, but she was doing her best to send him over the edge. And he still had his damned trousers on.

Slowly, he removed his finger from her softness, yanked his pants down, tugged his boots off, and stood at the foot of the bed just looking at her. He stroked himself as he stared at his princess, desire pushing him to the edge. She was heaven, waiting for him, lounged across his bed. Her beautiful breasts were rising and falling in a rhythm that captured him.

He knelt before her, his erection larger than he could recall it being before. But it had been waiting for her. For weeks. She stared at him in awe and swallowed. Hard. That was a reaction he enjoyed, and he could hardly wait to press himself into her over and over again.

Luke ran one hand up her leg, until it stopped on her knee. Then he spread her wide and gazed down at her. She was perfect. She was his. His free hand found her other knee and he held her open. Her scent was captivating.

He settled himself between her legs, and his straining cock twitched to be inside her. He pushed gently at her opening and she gasped, her nipples hardening even more. He murmured words of encouragement as he sank deeper into her, until his crown was completely embedded.

She was delightfully tight. And he had to hold back from losing complete control. But he continued pressing himself inside her, each inch more heavenly then the last. Then he came to her barrier, the evidence of her innocence.

Julie had never felt so stretched in her life. But his invasion of her body was more intense, more pleasurable, more… Dear God he was huge. Then he stopped, and looked down at her, love in his eyes.  “Kiss me, Juliet.”

He lowered his lips to hers, and then suddenly thrust deep inside her. Pain shot through her, though he captured her cry in his mouth. Then he softly kissed her, his tongue lightly caressing hers, and she started to relax.

He moved inside her, and waves of pleasure washed over Juliet’s body. There was no more pain. There was only Luke. He moaned in her ear as he thrust inside her again and again, until she was writhing beneath him, tears of joy streaming down her face. An urgency built inside her, growing stronger each time he pushed further and further into her. It was the most pleasurable, exciting… And then she reached a peak she hadn’t known she was looking for. All of her muscles tensed, and the most amazing release spread across her entire body, as if stars from the heavens had all rained down upon her.

Luke increased his speed, faster and faster he pushed into her, then he groaned and called out her name, just as he left her body.  He collapsed next to her, and cradled Juliet into the safety of his arms. She rested her head on his chest with a contended sigh. She had never felt more at one with the world.

***

Luke had never felt more lost than he did at this moment.

What in God’s name was wrong with him? He’d been a half second away from spilling himself inside her. Had he gone and lost his bloody mind? Getting Juliet with his child was the last thing he wanted. It was the last thing either of them wanted. He was the experienced one. It was his responsibility.

But she’d felt so damned amazing. Like no other woman he’d ever—he couldn’t even remember any other women. This was a problem. A complication he hadn’t anticipated.

Her lips were on his chest, and he hardened up again. God in heaven! How could he possibly be hard again? It had only been two bloody minutes. He slid out from under her and searched frantically for his pants. Where had he left the damned things?

“Luke, are you all right?”

Shouldn’t he be asking her that? He couldn’t look at her. If he did, he’d be back on that bed, back between her legs, and he didn’t know if he could control himself the next time. There couldn’t be a next time.  He didn’t trust himself.

What the devil was wrong with him?

“Luke?” she asked again. This time, concern laced in her voice.

“Get dressed,” he barked. He hadn’t meant to sound gruff, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He didn’t seem to be able to help anything.

He found his trousers and pulled them on. Then his boots. He couldn’t look at her.  God only knew what he’d see. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to see it. Pain. Confusion. Worry. He was dealing with enough of that of his own.

He nearly stumbled pulling on his boots, but he got them on. Then his shirt, and…to hell with the jacket. He could hear her fumbling around. “I’ll see you on deck.”

~14 ~

The world had stopped making sense to Juliet. How could things have been so perfect, so wonderful—just to end up like this? Luke had shuffled her off into his coach, with barely a word, and she’d rambled along the streets back to Prestwick House—alone and confused.

She just couldn’t understand what had happened. She went over the night in her mind countless times during the trip back home, but she could not figure out what had made him react hat way. Though it had something to do with their lovemaking, obviously. Had she done something wrong?  He seemed frightened, though she couldn’t understand what there was to be frightened about.

The carriage came to a stop at the back gate to the Prestwick courtyard. When Juliet stepped out of Luke’s coach, the chill from the night air enveloped her. She shivered and slipped, banging her shoulder and back against the side of the coach as she fell to the ground.

“Blast!” she whispered as she gingerly touched the back of her shoulder. That was sure to leave a mark.

“You all right, my lady?” the coachman asked, hoping down from his perch. Really, she should have waited for him to open the door in the first place, and she was starting to feel like a complete ninny.

Juliet forced a smiled to her lips. “Yes, thank you.” Then she turned away and raced through the gate. She thought she heard his voice mutter something about hair pins, but she paid it no attention and hurried inside the house.

The place was ominously quiet. Juliet silently climbed the stairs and swept down the hallway toward her room. Then her lungs seized.

Warm candle light flickered beneath her chamber door.

There shouldn’t be light in her room. She’d left it in darkness, so that no one would try to disturb her while she recovered from her headache.

“Juliet, is that you?” came Georgie’s soft voice from inside the chambers.

Juliet cringed. What was Georgie doing in her room? And how would she ever explain her absence? She took a deep, steadying breath. It was possible that her sister had just returned home from the Hollingsworth’s. It was best to act as if nothing untoward had happened. Tentatively, Juliet pushed open her door.

Still in her gown from that evening, Georgie sat on the edge of Juliet’s bed. The most sorrowful expression covered her face, which darkened when she took in Juliet’s appearance.

Why hadn’t she thought about her own appearance?

Her gown was rumpled where Luke had grasped it in his hands. She reached up to her hair, which was a tumbled mess. Half her sapphire pins were missing—that must have been what the coachman was trying to tell her. And her lips were bruised, still swollen from Luke’s kisses.

Georgie heaved a sigh, and it seemed that it only took her sister one look to know what had happened. “Oh, Jules!” Her anguished voice filled the silent air.

Tears Juliet didn’t know she was holding back, began to trail down her face and she dropped on the floor at the foot of her bed. She hadn’t meant for the night to turn out like this. She was completely lost where Luke was concerned, and now she’d lost the respect of her devoted sister. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so desolate.

Georgie scrambled over to her and placed a reassuring hand on her head, stroking her disheveled hair. “I’m so sorry that I failed you.”

That made exactly no sense to Juliet, so blinked up at Georgie. “Failed me?”

Her sister dropped on to the floor next to her and caressed the side of her face, wiping away tears with the pad of her thumb. “I was too late. After you left, I just had a feeling, and I rushed home as fast as I could.” She sighed. “If I’d just gotten here sooner. Oh, Juliet, why? He’ll never marry you. And now you’re—”

Georgie apparently couldn’t say ruined, but the unuttered word echoed around the room anyway. However Juliet couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment. She knew when she stepped in Luke’s coach that this would be the end result. But she hadn’t known that her heart would hurt, as it did now.  So she simply cried. For the man she would always love. For her heart that would never heal.

***

After traveling by hack and stumbling into Madam Palmer’s, Luke looked around from parlor to parlor. Pretty women, all shapes and sizes littered the place, but not one of them caught his interest. Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought.

“Anna!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, which apparently the other patrons didn’t appreciate, as they snarled and frowned at him.

He was just getting ready to yell again when a giant flash-man wrenched his arm nearly out its socket. “You best be headin’ home, guv’nor.”

“I’m a friend of Anna’s.” Luke shook the man’s hands off of him.

“Sure ya are.” When the flash-man smiled at him, Luke could only count three teeth in his whole head.  “Off wi’ ya now.”

“I need to see Anna,” Luke insisted, though it didn’t seem that the giant was going to let him pass. “Take me to her. If she tells you to throw me out, I’ll go willingly.”

The man frowned at him, but after a moment inclined his head. Then he led Luke down a wide corridor and opened the door to Anna Palmer’s private drawing room. Luke shook his head at himself. Why had he been yelling? He knew where Anna hid herself away. He just wasn’t in his right mind.

Immediately, his eyes fell on Mrs. Anna Palmer, lounging carelessly across a golden damask settee. He was struck, almost at once, that Anna no longer looked as young or vibrant as she had when Luke had first stumbled into her establishment, though she was still a lovely woman with a supple figure, inky, black hair, and soft, brown eyes. They’d known each other for years—years he could now see reflected in her no longer youthful face. Apparently, he’d been living this sort of life for too long. Certainly he could manage to get through one more night.

“Lucas.” She rose from her seat and started toward him with a warm smile, but she stopped suddenly with a quizzical look on her face. “Are you all right?”

About as far away from all right as he could possibly be, but he didn’t have to say that—she could just tell. “I need someone, Anna.”

“Of course,” she replied with a tentative step toward him. “Anyone in particular?”

“I don’t care.” Anyone. Someone who didn’t resemble Juliet in any way at all. Someone that would wipe the memory of her out of his mind, the scent of her off his body. “A blonde,” he finally answered and it felt as if his heart would crumble into dust. “L—light eyes. Tall.”

Anna Palmer nodded to her big, strapping flash-, who was now standing sentry at the door, though she still wore a look of concern. “Stanley, have Greta meet Mr. Beckford in the burgundy chamber, if it’s empty.”

After the brute left the room, Anna closed the gap between herself and Luke. “You don’t look like yourself, Lucas.”

Because he wasn’t himself. He didn’t want to think about it and he certainly didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine. Thank you for the burgundy room.”

With his head hung low, Luke climbed the stairs. This needed to be done. He needed to put Juliet and the power she had over him out of his mind. He needed to erase her completely. Forget about her. Move on.

A pretty blonde girl, who was apparently Greta, entered the burgundy room, wearing only a green satin robe. Luke mentally cursed. Greta? Why did Anna have to go and tell him the girl’s name? That was the last bloody thing he wanted to know.

She quietly closed the door behind her and smiled at him. “Guten nacht.” Her voice was soft with a quiet German accent.

Luke silently prayed this would work. This Deutschland beauty was about as far from Juliet as someone could be. Goddamn it! She really needed to stop encroaching in his mind. He forced a smile to his lips. “Evening.”

“Eet vill be my pleasure to serveece you, Herr Beckford.”

He could care less what her pleasure was and just wanted to get this over with. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered without an ounce of feeling.

“Es würde mein vergnügen sein.” With a sensuous smile, she obliged his request. Greta untied the sash of her robe and let the silky material pool at her feet. She wasn’t the least bit inhibited and stood completely bare before him, the swells of her breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. The sight should have made him instantly hard, but he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

Greta stepped toward him, her long blond hair falling loosely down her back. “Vat vould you like me to do now?” She reached one slender hand up and cupped his jaw. Just like Juliet had done earlier that night.

Her touch scalded him and Luke recoiled, staring at her in horror. Never in his life had he had that sort of reaction to a woman’s touch, and certainly not a beautifully naked one. What the devil was wrong with him?

He cursed beneath his breath, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to go through with his plans. He couldn’t tumble Greta—God, how he hated knowing the fraülein’s name—and perhaps he’d never be able to do such a thing again. Juliet had ruined him, just as surely as he had ruined her.

He tossed a small bag of coins to the bed, thanked the German girl for her time, and left Madam Palmer’s establishment for what was most likely the last time.

Luke’s head was spinning viciously and his heart constricted in his chest. The next thing he remembered was a strong hand grabbing the lapel of his greatcoat and jerking him backward. He blinked up into the dark blue eyes of Marcus Gray, the Marquess of Haversham. Then he stumbled to the ground just as a coach sped past him, missing him by mere inches. A second later and he’d have been crushed for sure.

His breathing quickened as panic of the near miss instantly engulfed him.

“Good God, Luke! What the devil is wrong with you?” Haversham sputtered.

How he wished he knew the answer to that question. Luke gaped at his old friend and shook his head. “I—I don’t know, Marc.”

Haversham offered Luke his hand and then pulled him back to his feet. “I’ve never seen you so preoccupied.”

“I’m not myself,” Luke admitted, still trying to catch his breath.

“So, I noticed.” Then Haversham curiously looked Luke over, as if he had sprouted wings and a third eye. “Haven’t seen you for weeks. I’d have thought you’d stuck your spoon in the wall, if tales of your foray into polite society weren’t on everyone’s lips. Are you really courting the St. Claire girl?”

Luke shook his head. “Not any longer. Things didn’t work out as I expected.” That was an understatement.

Haversham smirked. “Frigid, eh? Damnation, Luke, anyone could have told you that.”

Luke forced an amused look to his face. It was better if everyone thought that. Better for Juliet, certainly. Definitely for himself as well. “I suppose I should have consulted you then. You could’ve saved me a lot of time and wasted energy.”

Haversham threw back his head and laughed. “God, I hadn’t realize how much I missed our conversations. I have to head up for Yorkshire tomorrow. Apparently, the little hellion caught the drapes in my study ablaze a few days ago. I couldn’t talk you into accompanying me, could I?”

Did Luke want to go to the wilds of Yorkshire to see Haversham’s petulant, and apparently pyromaniac, daughter? Normally, no. However, it might have been providence that he’d run into his friend—aside from the fact that Marc had just saved his miserable life. Getting out of London might be just the thing he needed at the moment. He found himself nodding and breathing a sigh of relief. “Actually, Marc, the idea is tempting.”

Haversham looked at him in surprise, then a wide grin broke out on his face. “Excellent. Perhaps I’ll be able to win back my yacht.”

Win it back? Luke would give it back. He never wanted to lay eyes on the damn thing ever again. Or anything else that reminded him of Juliet.

So Yorkshire it was to be.

***

Her life was over.

Juliet couldn’t even consider getting out of bed. She didn’t want to face the world. Honestly, she didn’t think she could walk across the room unaided. Never in her life had she been racked with so much sorrow. Never had she been so devoid of hope and so filled with anguish.

She had known ever since Luke sent her off alone in his coach that he wouldn’t call on her. And she knew in her heart that she would never see him again. He’d been right all along—they should never have gone as far as they did. Because losing him now was many times more painful than anything she’d ever endured. It was as if a part of her soul was missing, a piece she could never get back.

Caroline had come by to see her, but Juliet was in no condition to see anyone. Outside her door she could hear Georgie and Caroline whisper in hushed tones, plotting, planning. Juliet couldn’t make out the words, and she also couldn’t bring herself to care.

She was never leaving her room. She was never leaving her bed. She was going to wither away here until there was nothing left of her.

She rolled over and slept some more.

“Jules,” came Georgie’s soft voice sometime later. Her room was as dark as night, but Juliet could feel her sister running a comforting hand along her back.

She had no energy, but managed to roll over, blinking at her sister in the dark.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to have Ellie pack your things and I’m taking you to The Chase.”

Prestwick Chase. Uncle Albert and her awful cousins. Juliet didn’t care. She didn’t have the strength to argue with Georgie, nor the will. Not anymore. She could die of a broken heart just as easily in Derbyshire as she could in London.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even swipe at the tears that had started to escape her eyes. How was it even possible that she still had tears left?

~ 15 ~

Juliet found herself bundled up in the back of the Prestwick traveling coach across from Georgie and rambling north out of Town. She felt hollow and empty.

Georgie kept looking at her with the same pitiful, worried expression. Normally, that would have driven her stark raving mad, but Juliet said nothing. She just quietly stared out the window and watched the world slowly pass by.

After days of travel, Georgie finally broke the silence. “Juliet.” Her voice was weary.

Juliet pulled her eyes away from the darkening sky and focused on her sister.

With concerned eyes, Georgie smiled warmly. “What can I do, sweetheart? It’s killing me to see you like this.”

Juliet shook her head, and her eyes dropped to her hands. “Wh—why—” It came out as a croak, since she hadn’t spoken in days. She cleared her throat. “Why didn’t I listen to you, Georgie?”

“Oh, Juliet.” Georgie’s pitying gaze deepened.

“You knew it would end like this, didn’t you?”

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t.”

“I’m just such a fool.” Juliet frowned and slumped back against the squabs.

“You’re brave!” Georgie contended passionately, which was quite surprising to Juliet, and her eyes grew round at her sister’s words.

“Brave?” The combination of a laugh and a cry escaped her throat. “You think I’m brave to have fallen in love with Luke Beckford?”

“No, you’re brave to have followed your heart, even though—”

“I’m a candidate for Bedlam.”

“You’re strong, Juliet. You always were. I so envy that about you.”

“I’m opinionated and difficult to deal with.” Georgie could call it whatever she wanted. Juliet knew the truth.

They sat quietly for a while, just staring at each other as the sky began to darken outside. They would have to stop an inn soon. No one with any sense traveled these roads at night. Just as Juliet peeked out her window, Georgie cleared her throat. “Have you really fallen in love with him?”

An all too familiar lump lodged itself in Juliet’s throat. “Please, Georgie. I don’t want to talk about Luke anymore.”

Georgie smiled wistfully. “Very well. But you know I’ll be here when you’re ready. Would you like me to tell you what a fool I’ve been?”

Juliet sobered up immediately. Georgie was kind, strict, and loving. Foolishness was not one of her qualities. “What are you talking about?”

“Fin wants to marry me.”

“Phineas Granard?” Juliet sat forward, gaping at her sister in disbelief.

“He wanted to take me—us—all of us—to India. But I wouldn’t go. I was too afraid.”

Juliet could hardly believe her sister’s words. Lord Carraway wanted to marry Georgie? She’d had absolutely no idea. Is that why he was always around Prestwick House? She’d honestly thought it was so he could spend time with Edmund. How could she have been so blind?

“...And I was foolish. I should have married him. He keeps telling me that he’s not like Teynham, and I know that in my heart.”

Things started to make sense to Juliet. Georgie’s sullenness after Edmund’s departure. She was certain her sister missed their brother, but the misery she’d seen in Georgie’s eyes was one she now intimately understood.

Heartache.

“Heavens, Georgie, I had no idea.”

Georgie sat up straighter with a look of chagrin on her face. “Of course not. We kept things quiet.”

“I’ll say.” Juliet didn’t know Georgie had it in her to keep secrets. “Do—Do you love him?”

Georgie looked at her hands, folded in her lap. “With all my heart.”

“But you’re still afraid.” It wasn’t a question. Juliet had seen the bruises her sister had tried to keep hidden when Teynham was alive. Who knew what internal scars Georgie still held harbored from those terrible years?

Though Georgie didn’t answer—she didn’t have to—and Juliet’s heart went out to her sister. “But you want to marry him anyway? Well, then, you’re braver than I am.”

With a faint smile, Georgie nodded her head. “He’s been carrying around a special license with him for months, hoping that I’ll finally agree.”

Juliet had a hard time imagining the dignified and stodgy Lord Carraway begging her sister to marry him. He didn’t seem the sort, and the thought brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. But if he truly loved Georgie, her sister would be well cared after. Phineas Granard did nothing by half, and there wasn’t a cruel bone in the viscount’s body. How she wished that he and Edmund were home.  Georgie deserved to be happy, to be loved. And she desperately missed Edmund. His joyful exuberance would take her mind off Luke.

***

When Juliet and Georgie first arrived at Prestwick Chase, they were surprised at the level of disrepair that appeared to encompass the entire estate. Tenant cottages had visible holes in both their roofs and walls. The rectory was nearly tumbling to the ground. Even the manor house itself seemed dismal and dreary—it wasn’t a place either of them recognized.

They were greeted out front by their cousins Hugh and Althea. It had been years since Juliet had laid eyes on either of them, but she recognized the two immediately. Both looked like St. Claires with their icy blue eyes and light colored hair. Hugh and Juliet were of an age, and she remembered him quite well. As a child, he had once cut her curls and then denied it when questioned by the duke. Her father chose not to believe her, and Hugh had gone unpunished.

In his outdated country apparel, Hugh bowed grandly and smiled at them. “Cousins! We are so excited that you’ve finally come to visit us.”

In Edmund’s home. The jab was on the tip of Juliet’s tongue, but she bit it back. She was here. There was no point in starting off on the wrong foot.

Hugh dropped a kiss on Georgie’s cheek, then turned to Juliet. His light eyes assessed her before he leaned in, kissing her too. He smelled of stale tobacco and a hint of sandalwood. He lingered longer than she would have liked, his unshaven whiskers pressing into her cheek. “Heavens, Jules,” he whispered in her ear, “I had no idea you’d become such a radiant creature.”

Radiant.

She knew what that meant. She’d been chased by every fortune hunter in London. And if Hugh St. Claire wasn’t a fortune hunter, he certainly should be. He was worth nothing, and she was well aware of that fact. Juliet stepped away from him and smiled coolly. “So good to see you, cousin.”

Althea, younger than Juliet by a few years, stepped forward and hooked her arm with Georgie’s. “Where’s Lissy?”

Georgie forced a smile to her face as they started through the once grand doors of Prestwick Chase. “I’ve been remiss, Althea, and neglected to send on Felicity’s good news. She has married an American Captain and is happily living in Boston.”

As her sister continued to positively spin Felicity’s flighty blunder, Hugh slid his hand possessively up Juliet’s back, and she flinched. Why did she ever allow Georgie to bring her here? And how soon could they possibly leave?

“It’s been too long since you were home,” Hugh remarked lightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Indeed.” Juliet stepped away from him, and glanced around at the tattered walls. Really, when was the last time someone cleaned the place? “I imagine you’ve had to chop off all of Althea’s hair, since I’ve been unavailable.”

Hugh chuckled, and tugged on one of her loose curls. “You’ve never forgiven me for that, have you?”

She didn’t feel like smiling. She didn’t feel like being here, but it was better to keep Hugh talking, as it seemed to keep his hands off her. “You told my father that I butchered my own hair. After dealing with him, I couldn’t sit down for a week. And it took nearly a year for my hair to grow back.”

He bowed grandly once more her. “My most humble apologies, Jules. Please say I’m forgiven.”

“Hugh!” barked a voice from a nearby room.

Just the sound of Lord Albert St. Claire sent shivers racing down Juliet’s spine. How she despised that man.

Hugh froze at her side. “Yes, father?”

Uncle Albert stepped out from the study—the one that had once belonged to her father. The years hadn’t changed him a bit. He was still a robust man, with cool, unemotional eyes, and fine reddish-blond hair. When his gaze landed on Georgie and Juliet, his thin lips turned up into a slight grin. “My dear nieces, how lovely to see you both.”

“Papa,” Althea began, bouncing on her tip toes, “Lissy is still in America and she’s married.”

Uncle Albert turned his attention to Juliet. “But no suitors for you, my dear?”

An image of Luke flashed in Juliet’s mind and her heart painfully contracted. “I prefer my independence, Uncle.”

“As always.” There was something in the chilly look of her uncle’s eyes that made Juliet’s hair stand on end. She silently thanked God that Edmund wasn’t with them, that Georgie had sent him to India. There wasn’t anything Uncle Albert could do to get his clutches into her sweet little brother. At least not right now.

Uncle Albert gestured to Althea with a flick of his wrist. “Show your cousins to their rooms.”

***

Juliet looked around her chamber and stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. There were tons of them. The place honestly looked as if it was falling in on itself.  The drapes were dusty and the room smelled of mold. Her father would have been mortified to ever see The Chase look like this.

She was surprised when Hugh delivered her trunk to her room. He didn’t stay long, but Juliet found it odd that a footman hadn’t done the job. Of course, she hadn’t seen a butler, the housekeeper, a maid—not any servants at all. How very strange.

She slumped down on the bed, curled up, and prayed that she’d awake in her room in Upper Brook Street. That she was still in London. That all of this bad been a bad dream. That Luke truly cared for her.

Juliet had no idea how long she’d remained in place, staring at the slowly darkening sky through her drapes, but eventually Georgie knocked on the door and entered the room. “Jules, what are you doing, just lying there? Didn’t you hear the dinner chime?”

No. She hadn’t heard anything. She simply shook her head.

With a huge sigh, Georgie opened Juliet’s wardrobe and pulled out a simple cambric gown of soft pink.  “Come on. Up with you. I’ll play your maid.”

“I’m not hungry,” she muttered and rolled onto her side.

Georgie wouldn’t take no for an answer and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll not be rude on our first night here.  Now, pull off your dress.”

Juliet slid ungracefully off the bed with a pout and pulled her traveling gown up over her head. “I don’t know why—”

Georgie’s gasp cut off her complaint. Then Juliet felt her sister gingerly touch the bruise on her shoulder. “Dear God, Juliet! Did Luke do this to you?”

Juliet tried to shake her sister’s hands off her. “No! Of course not. I slipped, Georgie.”

Georgie’s soft touch followed the bruise all the way down Juliet’s back. “Yes, I use to slip quite often when I was married to Teynham too. When I get my hands on Luke Beckford, I swear to you, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Taking your innocence and this!”

Juliet spun around to face her sister, one lone tear trailing down her cheek. “Georgie, Luke didn’t—I’m telling you the truth. I slipped when I got out of the coach. It was cold and I wasn’t in my right frame of mind.”

But it didn’t seem as if Georgie could hear her. She tossed Juliet’s traveling dress to a nearby chair and quickly pulled the new gown over her head. Without a word, she buttoned Juliet in, then ushered her out the door and all the way to the drawing room.

As soon as they entered the once golden, now slightly fading room, Juliet noticed that all eyes were on her and that Althea seemed a little flushed. She supposed if she cared, she would have spent more time contemplating the whys of the situation, but truly she didn’t give a whit for any of them.  However, a tall, thin man with graying hair and soft, green eyes caught her attention. He looked familiar, and she found herself staring at him.

“Cousin.” Hugh stepped before her. “Do you remember Sir Nigel?”

Sir Nigel! Of course. The local magistrate had been a dear friend of her father’s. She smiled and inclined her head. “Good to see you again, sir.”

Uncle Albert clapped a hand to Sir Nigel’s back and smirked. “Ah, Nige, is here all the time. I’m sure you’ll see more of him. Shall we make our way to dinner?”

Hugh offered Juliet his arm, which she grudgingly took. She just had to make it through dinner, and then she could retire to her room in peace. In the dining room, Juliet spied her first servant. An older maid that she seemed to recognize. “Millie?” she asked Hugh.

He nodded his head. “I’m afraid things have been a bit tight in recent years. It’s only Millie and Cook that are left.”

Only Millie and Cook? Good Heavens! Two women were the only staff at Prestwick Chase? No wonder the place appeared to be falling down. With Cook in the kitchen, it would be impossible for Millie to do all the work in the massive estate alone. She started to feel a bit guilty that she hadn’t sent funds to keep the place up, but she hadn’t wanted to support her uncle and cousins remaining in The Chase. She figured when Edmund reached his majority, they’d toss their unwanted relations from the place, and then she would make all the necessary repairs, but now she wasn’t so sure The Chase could wait that long.

She found herself seated between Hugh and Sir Nigel, and was soon fiddling with her soup. Soup was a generous word, as it was mainly hot water with just a few vegetables tossed in for good measure.

“The conditions here aren’t your fault, you know,” Hugh whispered in her ear as his hand settled on her leg under the table.

Juliet sat bolt upright and glared at her cousin. “Remove your hand this instant,” she hissed back at him.

Slowly, Hugh removed his hand, and he smiled tightly. “I just meant to be comforting.”

“Well, comfort someone else,” she responded tartly.

The rest of dinner was fairly uncomfortable. Hugh sat rigid as a board next to her. Sir Nigel and Uncle Albert discussed one old hunt after another, drinking goblet after goblet of wine. And Althea chatted incessantly with Georgie asking for all sorts of details about Felicity’s new husband—which Georgie made up as she went along. By the time she was finished extolling the virtues of Captain Aaron Pierce, the man came off as a veritable saint.

When the men were finally ready for their port, Juliet was ready to climb out of her skin. So she quickly said good night to the others and started back to her chambers, prepared to forget the night all together. As she climbed the stairs, memories of her childhood days in this house washed over her. It was going to take a lot of effort to get The Chase back to where it should be. It was the ancestral home of the Duke of Prestwick, but it looked like a pile of rubbish.

When she turned the corner toward her room, Hugh was standing before her, blocking her way. “I thought you might want to go for a walk, Jules.”

Her night only wanted for this! She narrowed her eyes to little slits. “Hugh St. Claire, I have been as polite as I am able, but my patience has worn thin. I don’t want to go for a walk with you. I don’t want to reminisce with you. I don’t want you to touch me. In fact, I’d prefer not to see you at all. Have I made myself quite clear?”

His blue eyes seemed black in the dimly lit hall, but he nodded curtly. “I believe I understand you perfectly well. Very sorry to have bothered you.” Then he brushed past her and disappeared around a corner.

Juliet took a deep breath. She hated being here, seeing these people. And she just wanted to go home, sleep in her own bed, and never leave London again.

***

Juliet stayed in bed the next two days, blatantly refusing to leave. It was a bit childish on her part, but the only place she seemed safe from her relations was sequestered in her room.  She didn’t read. She didn’t sleep. She didn’t eat. She just laid there and felt sorry for herself.  And she missed Luke more and more.

Finally on the third morning, Althea breezed into her room with a steaming pot of tea. “Papa says this will help you feel better.”

Nothing could do that. Juliet forced a smile to her lips and sent her cousin away. The she rolled over on her side to look out the window. Two skylarks had been chirping all morning long, and their cheerful song was the only thing that lightened her heart. Just as she was about to doze off, Georgie blazed through her door without even knocking.

“All right.  This has gone on long enough. Out of bed.” When Juliet grumbled and refused to move, Georgie stormed over to the bed and threw off the counterpane. “Honestly, Juliet, this isn’t like you. I’ve never known you to just…give up like this.”

“I don’t feel like it, Georgie. I just want to be left alone.”

“Well, you’ve had that for two days. I will not allow you to continue this sulking over Luke Beckford, of all people. So get up and get dressed.”

Then Georgie pulled her to the edge of the bed. When Juliet’s feet found the floor, she frowned but stood up and made her way to the wardrobe. She selected a jonquil colored muslin and stomped over to the changing screen. Heaven forbid Georgie catch site of her bruise again.

She slipped out of her nightrail and thought she heard something fall in the room, but she paid it very little attention.  “I don’t know why you can’t just leave me be. I didn’t want to come here in the first place and you well knew it. So don’t blame me, if you don’t like the way I spend my time here, Georgie.” She continued in that vein until she pulled her day dress over her head.

Then she stomped back around the changing screen and screamed.

Georgie lay motionless on the floor next to a spilled cup of tea.

Juliet raced to her sister’s side, turning her over. Georgie’s pulse was rapid, more rapid than it should have been. Juliet continued to scream for help, and soon her uncle and cousins stood in the doorway, looking at the scene before them.

Pale, Hugh stumbled backward. “I’ll fetch Dr. Perkins.”

Althea touched Georgie’s head and declared it clammy. Juliet could only watch in horror as Uncle Albert picked her sister up and laid her on Juliet’s bed. “What happened?” he demanded.

“I—I don’t know. I went to change clothes and when I stepped back around the screen she was just lying there.”

Uncle Albert grunted, barked at Althea to clean up the spilled tea, and left the room without another word.

~ 16 ~

Juliet sat by the bed, holding Georgie’s hand in her own and smoothing her sister’s hair from her forehead. She couldn’t remember ever being so frightened in her entire life. One moment her sister was fine and mothering her, and the next… Juliet shook her head and tried to force away unwelcome thoughts.

“Come on, Georgie. Wake up.”

“F—Fin,” Georgie barely muttered.

Thank God! Juliet felt her heart leap in her chest. Now, if only she’d open her eyes. She ran her hand down Georgie’s throat, and panic seized her all over again. She couldn’t find her sister’s pulse. It had been racing before. She must have the wrong spot. She touched under Georgie’s jaw, down the base of her neck, but there was nothing.

Juliet grasped her sister’s wrist and pressed two fingers to her pulse point. Still there was nothing. “No, no, no, no! Stay with me, Georgie. Come on, wake up.”

But she didn’t wake up. And her chest didn’t move. And her pulse didn’t start beating again.

By the time Hugh arrived back at Prestwick Chase with Dr. Perkins, Georgie’s body had long since turned cold. Juliet was hysterical, and the old country doctor adamantly administered a dose of laudanum to calm her nerves.

***

Juliet awoke in an unfamiliar room. She blinked into the darkness, her mouth as dry as cotton. Where was she? Struggling to push up on her weakened arms, she collapsed back to the bed.

Then she took a deep breath and managed to push herself up from the spot. She spied a pitcher on a small table and poured a glass of water, which she gulped down.

She gradually gathered her wits about her, and recognized the small chamber as Georgie’s room. Which must mean that Georgie was still in her room. An overwhelming desire to see her sister set in, because she couldn’t believe that Georgie was gone. It was all just a terrible dream.

She opened the door and ran smack in to the wall of Hugh St. Claire’s chest. She almost screamed, but he placed his finger over her lips. Juliet fumed with anger. She would not be accosted by her own cousin! She beat at his chest with all her worth.

“Shh!” he hissed softly. “Don’t fight me! I’m trying to help you.”

She hit at him anyway. She couldn’t think straight. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and Georgie… Dear God, Georgie was dead! How had such a thing happened? It was unfathomable.

Images of her sister’s cool, lifeless body still lingered in her mind. She doubted they would ever leave. Tears streamed down her face, and she realized that Hugh was shaking her.

“You’ve got to get out of here, Jules. It’s not safe for you.”

She blinked up at her cousin. “What?”

His mouth was drawn up tight, and he hauled her back into Georgie’s chambers. He thrust a small bag into her arms. “Have you got money?”

Juliet peered into the bag and found clothes. Boy’s clothes.  Her mind couldn’t keep up and she stared blankly at an old pair of buff-colored breeches.

“Have you got any money?” Hugh’s voice brought her back to the present.

Did she have money? “Yes, of course.” She had a small bag of coins in her reticule.

“Good, because I don’t. Now, listen, Jules. Put those on.” He pointed to the bag in her hands. “Then make your way to the stables and take Thor. He’s not much anymore, but he’s the fastest fellow out there.”

She just shook her head. What was he talking about? “You’re not making any sense.” And her mind was still foggy from the laudanum.

With an anguished sigh, Hugh tucked a loose strand of Juliet’s hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know, Jules. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Father’s not in his right mind. The tea Georgie drank…”

The tea that Althea had delivered to Juliet’s room?

“It was poisoned. He’d meant it for you.”

“For me?” Juliet felt even more limp, and she hadn’t known that was possible. Georgie had died in her stead? That couldn’t possibly be true. No one would do such a thing. Georgie was…Georgie was the only person who had ever cared for her. Their father didn’t care about any of them, and the same could be said for their step-mothers, for the most part. But Georgie…she had kept them all together and loved them. And she couldn’t really be dead! It wasn’t fair.

“Put the clothes on, Jules.” He pointed her to the changing screen and turned his back on her while she did as he asked. “He always felt the title had been ripped from him by Edmund, that it was his birthright. I think you know that. But as the years passed, what he cared most about was money.  Your money. He felt it should have been your mother’s dowry. That it belonged to the St. Claire family, not you alone.”

Juliet slipped out of her nightrail and pulled the breeches up over her hips, as she listened in stunned silence.

“He thought I could woo you, and he could gain control of your funds if you married me.”

A shocked gurgle escaped her and she covered her mouth, as Hugh turned around and caught her eye through the changing screen.

“I told him that wouldn’t work. But, well, he was convinced that you’d been compromised in London, and that I had a fair shot of winning you. That no one else would have you.”

How in the world had he come to that conclusion?

“Keep dressing,” Hugh bit out, as a blush settled on his cheeks and he turned around again.

“Why would he think such a thing?” Juliet pulled the boy’s shirt over her head and began tucking it into the waistband of her pants.

“That you’d been compromised or that I could win you?”

Through the screen, she saw his shoulders sag as he asked the question, and she shrugged. “That I’d been compromised?”

He took a deep breath. “Althea has been eavesdropping on your conversations with Georgie.” Hugh turned around to face her again. “Tell me, Jules, that this man—this Luke—didn’t hurt you. Althea said you had bruises.”

She flushed a deep red. She could feel it on her face. “I slipped, Hugh. Luke would never…” She was going to say that Luke would never hurt her, but that would have been a lie. It was just that the wounds he left, no one could see with their eyes.

“Are you done?” he asked anxiously.

Juliet pulled on a jacket that was too large, though it hid her shape remarkably well. Then she stepped around the changing screen, her stockinged feet padded across the ancient rug. “Where am I to go like this?”

He handed her an old pair of boots. “Somewhere safe. You have friends you can go to? Somewhere he can’t find you? To this Luke, perhaps?”

The last person in the world she could go to was Luke. “Somewhere he can’t find me?” she repeated numbly.

“He’ll kill you, Jules. And with Georgie gone, there’s no one to keep him from taking control of Edmund and your fortune. Edmund is your heir, isn’t he?”

Juliet’s lungs seized as that horrible thought engulfed her. Then Hugh stepped forward and steadied her with his arm. “Take Thor into Derby then you can catch the mail coach all the way to London. It’s the fastest way. I’d go with you, but… Well, then he’d know I helped you, and my life might as well be over.”

Juliet found herself nodding, though she’d never felt so completely lost before. Hugh handed her a cap. “Keep your curls hidden. No one will be looking for a boy.”

Again she nodded, as numbness stole over her body.

“I’ll throw the counterpane over some pillows, make it look like you’re sleeping. Or grieving. I’ll buy you as much time as I can. Where’s your money?”

Juliet scrambled over to her valise and removed her beaded reticule. After she handed it to Hugh, he extracted the coin purse and wrapped it around her waist with a belt. “Keep your jacket over this. Don’t let anyone see it. Take a few coins out before you reach the posting inn to pay for the fare.”

Remorse washed over her. Hugh St. Claire was the last person she would have ever expected help from. “Hugh., thank you,” she whispered.

He softly brushed his lips over hers, completely taking Juliet by surprise. “Be safe, Jules.” Then he pushed her out into the darkened hallway.

***

Luke frowned into his whiskey, his legs kicked up in front of the large grate in the library at Saddleworth Hall. Something wasn’t right. He could just feel it in the pit of his stomach.

The trip to Yorkshire had not erased Juliet from his mind, and he was hard pressed to think about anything else. Their night on the yacht played over and over in his head. Never had he felt so alive than when he held Juliet St. Claire in his arms. She was heaven and sunshine all tied up in a lovely, cynical bow waiting for him to unwrap her. And the way she felt writhing beneath him, well, he’d never felt such an amazing thing before in his life.

She must be thoroughly confused by his actions. For God’s sake, he was confused by his actions.

Luke reached into his pocket and toyed with two sapphire hair pins that had been left in his coach that fateful night. He hadn’t even removed them as he’d fantasized about. The evening had ended entirely too soon.

Marc settled into a seat opposite him and swirled his drink in his goblet. “Still not feeling well?”

Luke shrugged off the question. “Is Callie asleep?” His friend’s small daughter had been in rare form ever since they’d arrived the previous week. Little Callista Gray trailed her father, wherever he went, making a general nuisance of herself. Luke didn’t think he’d ever seen a child so starved for affection—certainly not his nieces and nephew. It was quite sad, actually.

Marc tossed back his whiskey and shook his head. “Not yet. I may have to start using laudanum.”

That was a disturbing thought, though Luke chose not to voice it. Really, it was no concern of his how the man raised his daughter. Callie was a pretty little thing with light, brown curls and soft, brown eyes. He imagined that Juliet looked similar to the girl when she was a child. He sighed and roughly rubbed his brow. He missed his princess desperately. And all thoughts led back to her.

“You’ve got that look again.” Marc’s voice interrupted his reverie.

Luke dropped his hand and sat forward. “Have you ever been in love, Haversham?”

Marc’s dark brows rose in question. “Ah. So that’s what this is about? The St. Claire chit after all, eh?’

Luke shrugged noncommittally. He and Marc had been friends for more than a decade and he knew that the marquess had never cared for his wife. Their marriage had been based upon the same principles of most matches of their class—duty and profit. But before that episode, Haversham had been engaged to another girl. “Did you love Ella Burke?” Luke was too good a friend to mention the fact the Marc had abducted the girl after she’d broken their engagement. That act spoke of obsession. And perhaps love?

With a snort, Marc shook his head then rubbed his chin. “God, I haven’t thought of Ella in years. I would’ve liked to have gotten into her bed at least once. But love her? No. Truly, I don’t believe such an emotion actually exists.”

“You sound like Kelfield.”

Marc chuckled. “Nah. We all sound like each other. God forbid Kelfield get all the credit.”

He was right. They did all sound the same. A more cynical bunch of bastards didn’t exist, and Luke was one of them. For years he’d touted the same lines. Believed the same things. It had taken Juliet only a few months to turn everything he’d ever believed on its ear.

Leaving her had been a colossal mistake.

Luke wondered what awaited him back in London. Would she see him? Would she speak to him? And what could he possibly say to her? That the emotions she brought out in him were more intense than any he’d ever felt? That he needed time to sort through things in his unclouded mind?

He shook his head at his own idiocy. He was a goddamned fool.

The next several days passed, but Luke was still unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. It ate at him, until he finally informed Marc one evening that he was headed back to London, with or without his friend. Ready to be rid of Callie, Marc made arrangements to depart the next morning.

***

In the end, Juliet’s escape was fairly simple for the most part. The night illuminated only by a slivered moon, she’d made her way to the stables and found Thor, an ancient hunter, already saddled and ready to go. Together they traveled along the main road all the way to Derby where she deposited the horse and easily obtained a spot on the mail coach to London.

The entire trip, Juliet was alone with just her thoughts. She paid no attention to the squabbling children that sat on the row in front of her, or the elderly woman that snored like a wild stampede. Everything was surreal and she wasn’t really there.

She’d go to London, but after that…where? She couldn’t go to Upper Brook Street, as Uncle Albert would be sure to look for her there. How she wished things had gone differently with Luke. He would have known what to do. So if not Luke…

Caroline!

Her breathing start to relax at the thought.  Caroline Staveley would know what to do. A more ingenious person Juliet didn’t know. Caroline had loved Georgie like a sister.  Certainly she could count on her help. If not, she didn’t know what to do.

~ 17 ~

Juliet knocked on the Staveley’s Curzon Street door. She knew she looked a mess, and she tried to keep her cap over her face, hoping that none of the passersby recognized her in dirty old breeches, smelling to high heaven.

When the old butler opened the door, he looked her over with an elitist frown. “Servants and deliveries go ‘round back.”

He started to shut the door, but Juliet pushed against it.  “Please, sir, I need to speak with Lady Staveley.”

The old man frowned when he heard her unmistakable, cultured accent and very feminine voice.

“Lord only knows what her ladyship has done now.” He opened the door widely. “Who shall I tell her is calling?”

“Juliet St. Claire.”

The butler’s clouded eyes grew round and he gazed closely at her. “God in heaven, it is you.” He then quickly led her to the white parlor, mumbling incoherently under his breath the whole way about Lady Staveley and her eccentric acquaintances.

***

Caroline was surprised when Merton informed her, with a peculiar frown, that Lady Juliet was awaiting her in the parlor. The girl should have still been in Derbyshire with Georgie. She’d barely been gone a sennight. Curiosity pulled her away from the breakfast room table, where she’d been enjoying her coffee all alone, and down the long hallway to her white parlor.

What she found when she got there made her suck in a surprised breath. Merton really needed to retire. Looking out the window stood a filthy boy, with his arms folded across his chest. How on earth had her ancient butler confused this unfortunate creature with Juliet?  And what was that smell?

“May I help you?” she asked, hoping to hurry the lad along his way.

Then the boy turned to look at her, and Caroline’s mouth gaped open. Merton hadn’t lost his mind, but apparently Juliet had. “Heavens, Juliet! What are—”

But she couldn’t finish the question when she saw Juliet’s grime covered face start to quiver. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and Caroline rushed to the girl, wrapping her in her arms.

Juliet just sobbed. Gurgled words here and there poured out of her, but none of it made any sense to Caroline. So, she just held her and whispered soothing words until the girl began to calm down. Finally, Juliet pulled away from her, and roughly brushed away the last of her tears. “I—I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

Caroline led her to the settee and sat her down. “I didn’t quite get all of that,” she admitted. “Can you tell me again?”

Juliet nodded her head and took a deep, steadying breath. “Georgie’s dead. Poisoned.” Then the rest of her awful story poured out.

Caroline listened, completely dumbfounded. Georgie had been her dearest friend for half of her life, and it was nearly impossible to imagine that she’d never see her friend again. An emptiness started to envelop her. However, Juliet’s next words brought her back to the present.

“I didn’t want to leave her there. How could I have just fled in the middle of the night like that?”

Georgie was gone, but Juliet needed her. “Darling,” she started as he grasped the girl’s hand, “Georgie would have wanted you to be safe and to protect Edmund. You did the right thing.”

Juliet shook her head. “I just don’t know what to do. The magistrate is a dear friend of my uncle’s, and I know he won’t believe me. I don’t even believe me.”

Caroline draped one arm around Juliet’s shoulder and squeezed supportively. “I believe you, darling. I’m so terribly sorry. What can I do to help you? Just name it.”

One tear rolled down Juliet’s face, and she nodded her head thankfully. “If it wasn’t for Edmund, I’d pack up and leave England.”

“Do you want to follow him to India? I’m sure Staveley could secure safe passage.”

Juliet shook her head slowly as the suggestion sunk in. “I’d never find them. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. They’ll be traveling from one location to another—all part of Caraway’s responsibilities. He’s supposed to be back in six months’ time.”

“Six months?” Caroline repeated and bit her bottom lip, as if in deep thought.

“I need to hide, Caroline. Somewhere my uncle won’t find me. But I don’t have a clue…”

When Caroline began to caress her back, just like Georgie would have done, another wave of sadness washed over Juliet. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll think of something.” Caroline sat quietly for what seemed forever before she sat up straight, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I’ve got it! My brother and his wife have asked me to find them a governess, and…”

Juliet stopped listening as a knot lodged in her throat. Luke had married? She hadn’t known her heart could drop any further, and yet it had. Certainly there were more pressing things for her to deal with, but when had this happened? The idea that he had given his name to another woman was so terribly heartbreaking. He had fallen in love with someone else? And so quickly? Was this other woman the reason he’d left her that night? And who was she? “Luke and his wife?” she asked breathlessly.

Caroline shook her head, “Oh, Heavens, no. I didn’t mean to frighten you, darling. I meant Masten and his wife. You missed my ball, you know. But it was a tremendous success. My brother and sister-in-law have reconciled, and they’ve started off for our family seat. Gosling Park in Dorset.”

“I’ve never met Lord or Lady Masten.”

Caroline patted her hand. “Well, that’s why it’s perfect, darling. Robert is fairly reclusive and spends most of the year at Gosling Park. Since your family doesn’t deal in horseflesh, he won’t know who you are. And you won’t have to worry about running into Luke. He and Robert haven’t spoken in a year, maybe two. Only Rob’s closest friends would visit him at Gosling. Are you very well acquainted with either Lord Astwick or Lord Clayworth?”

Juliet shook her head. “Not well. I’ve met Lord Astwick, of course.”

“Yes, of course, everyone knows him,” Caroline remarked with a slight frown. “But I’m sure I can keep Astwick busy in London. Let’s see, what to tell you? Robert’s wife has been living the last several years in Cheshire. And right now she has so much going on that she won’t spare you a second thought. I doubt she’ll worry about the children’s’ governess—not as long as the children like you, and I’m certain Peter and Penny will adore you. You always did so well with Edmund.”

Bits and pieces of Caroline’s earlier words started to sink in, the ones she thought she’d missed when she mistakenly believed Luke had married. Caroline wanted her to pretend to be a governess in the Earl of Masten’s household. “I don’t think I can pull that off. A governess?”

But Caroline’s eyes were wide, and she was speaking a mile a minute. “No, darling, it will be perfect. No one will ever think to look for you in service. Then when Edmund arrives back in England, you can come out of hiding and go wherever. And in the meantime Robert doesn’t know the first thing about what a governess should do, and I seriously doubt that Lydia does either—”

Juliet stared at Caroline as if she were mad. What kind of mother didn’t know what a governess did for her children? She and Georgie always knew everything that Miss Mitford did with Edmund.

Caroline must have interpreted the incredulous look on her face correctly, because she rushed to explain, “Peter and Penny are orphans that Lydia and I stumbled upon. In fact, they are here in London at the moment, at Masten House in Berkley Square. I can take you over there to stay, once we get you cleaned up.

“Keep an eye on Peter. The boy nabbed my reticule at Covent Garden. That’s how we found them in the first place. My sister-in-law has the kindest heart and somehow convinced my grouchy brother to take the little urchins in. How she managed that, I still don’t know. I would have wagered half of Staveley’s income that Robert would never have gone along with such a thing, but…”

Juliet was now only half listening. The plan didn’t sound too bad, and the picture Caroline was painting of Lord and Lady Masten made them appear to be decent people.  And she wouldn’t have to see Luke, which was a relief. Because she didn’t think she could ever face him again. If Caroline thought she’d be safe in Dorset, well, she was simply too drained to disagree.

With a beleaguered sigh, Juliet nodded her head. “All right. If you think this is best.”

Caroline beamed. “Oh, darling, I do. We’ll get you some dowdy old dresses and send you to Masten House this afternoon. There’s no point in letting Staveley know you’re here. He just wouldn’t understand why you don’t go to the magistrate, and I do see why you can’t. But men don’t see things the same way, so it’s best if we keep him in the dark. Then if someone does come around looking for you, Staveley can honestly say that we haven’t seen you.”

Coming to Staveley House had been the right decision, and Juliet took the first breath of relief. But still, she needed to be certain of a couple of things. “Luke hasn’t seen Masten in a few years?”

Caroline studied her for a minute then shook her head. “No, darling, the two of them have never really seen eye-to-eye on anything.”

That was good news. “Promise me, Caroline, that you won’t tell him where I am.” On the off chance that he wanted to see her.

Caroline slowly nodded her head. “I know he hurt you, Juliet. I wouldn’t jeopardize your safety. You and Georgie both mean more to me than that.”

***

Juliet felt like an imposter, wearing a serviceable brown dress, her hair in a tight bun and wire-rimmed spectacles, especially as she’d been so warmly received at Masten House. She’d adopted the name of Miss Julia Mitford, and hoped the moniker would help her stay in character.

It was unusual to live as a servant, and it took a bit of time to get accustomed to the changes. No one set up her bath. No one dressed her. No one inquired what would make her happy. Though it took some adjustments to get used to, all of it helped keep her ruse fresh in her mind.

Peter and Penny Harris were an odd little pair. Both had brown hair and eyes, and a smattering of freckles across their noses. Both were small for their ages, which Juliet attributed to living on the dank streets of London. Peter was seven and quite shy, while Penny was a vivacious and precocious four. They were adorable, until they opened their mouths.

They sounded as far away from refined children as one could imagine. Her work was certainly cut out for her. She wouldn’t be teaching arithmetic or art. Either one of them could easily have the greatest minds of their generation, but it wouldn’t matter. No one would pay them a whit of attention—not with the way they sounded.

So she started a regimen with the children, repeating words over and over. H’s couldn’t be dropped and their Covent Garden accents must be lost. Wards of an earl couldn’t sound as if they’d just crawled out of a gutter.

Working was good. It kept her mind off Georgie. Off Edmund. And off Luke.

Though she did fret for the better part of a week about what to send Lord Carraway. Something needed to be sent to the man’s address. He would, most likely, rush to Prestwick House as soon as he arrived back in Town, especially if he was as anxious to see Georgie as she was sure he would be after half a year. That made the missive quite difficult to write.

She couldn’t inform Carraway that Georgie had been poisoned in a letter. That would be a very cold thing to do. So, in the end she penned a quick note saying that she was staying with friends in Dorset, but that she would come for Edmund once they returned from India. It left much unsaid, but it was the best she could do.

The staff at Masten House was quite efficient. The butler, Phelps, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Hodges, were quiet but friendly and welcomed her instantly. The children’s nurse, Mrs. Norris, was a plump, older woman, who often doled out candy to Peter and Penny, and though Juliet thought the practice wasn’t helpful for the children, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling of love that emanated from the nurse.  The only person Juliet had a difficult time getting along with was Kistler, the earl’s valet. Lord and Lady Masten had gone on to Dorset without the stuffy man, and Juliet felt certain she knew why. Never had she associated with a man who complained and looked down his crooked nose at people the way Jonathan Kistler did—and she’d spent a fair amount of time at Carlton House the year before. Juliet was not looking forward to traveling to Gosling Park with such an arrogant know-it-all, but such things couldn’t be helped.

~ 18 ~

Susan Clarke didn’t know what to do. She was supposed to be on a leisurely walk in the park with her maid, but she desperately needed Juliet’s sage advice. So she’d bribed her maid, with chocolate, not to reveal that they were actually going to pay a social call on Upper Brook Street. Her mother wouldn’t like that, as she was convinced that Juliet filled Susan’s mind with nonsense and unorthodox ideas. But to Susan, Juliet was the only one who really understood her. However, her mentor hadn’t been at any functions since the Hollingsworth Ball, and Susan was starting to get a bit desperate.

She strolled along the street, avoiding eye contact with everyone. If she didn’t look at anyone, she wouldn’t have to speak to them. The only person Susan really wanted to speak to was Juliet. She would advise her.

Susan had almost convinced herself that she was prepared to be Lady Haywood. She could ignore Will’s insensitive comments about her background. After they were married she’d be a baroness and none of that would matter, or so she told herself. She could pretend that he cared for her and not her fortune. After all, that was expected of women in her position.

But she didn’t think she could live with his other interests. She’d heard rumblings about Will’s gambling habit and that was a bit distressing. Her fortune was vast, but not bottomless. She’d also witnessed him embracing an actress after a play they’d seen together, when he was supposed to be getting her a glass of punch. That was truly hurtful.

Susan had a lot to consider, she didn’t have to marry Haywood, after all. There were certainly other men who would jump at the opportunity to marry a rich man’s daughter. Perhaps someone with whom she was a better match. Getting Juliet’s advice was imperative.

Just as she and her maid were approaching Prestwick House, Susan tripped over her own foot and went tumbling to the ground. Or she would have, but out of nowhere, at least in her mind, she was scooped up in midair and placed safely back on her clumsy feet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Susan stared up into the lightest, crystal blue eyes she’d ever seen on a gentleman and her breath rushed from her body. He was of average height and slender build, with sandy blond hair that was a bit too long to be fashionable. His clothes were years out of style, but his smile was perfect. “Are you all right, Miss?”

She felt a blush stain her cheeks and nodded dumbly, wishing to high heaven that she had an ounce of her mother’s grace. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

He tipped his hat, though his eyes never left hers. “My pleasure. Hugh St. Claire.” He introduced himself with an elegant bow.

St. Claire? Susan grinned. “Are you a relation of Lady Juliet? I was just on my way to see her.”

Mr. St. Claire’s face darkened instantly. “Do you know where she is?”

What a strange question. They were standing right in front of Prestwick House, after all. Susan furrowed her brow. “Is she not at home?”

His face softened and he shook his head. “Sorry.”

Susan pouted. “Drat. I so needed her advice.” What was she to do now?

***

Hugh couldn’t help but smile at the pretty, dark haired girl. Her brow crinkled in a most charming way and she seemed to have no artifice at all. He could clearly see every emotion that crossed her face—surprise, confusion, anxiety. But really, he needed to move her along, on the off chance that she knew something about Juliet that could lead to wherever his cousin was hiding. If his father stumbled on this girl, her secrets would be as plain as the delightful, pert, little nose on her face. “I’d be happy to offer you mine.”

The lovely blush deepened on the girl’s cheeks, and Hugh’s smile grew wider.  What an enchanting creature she was.

“I—I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. St. Claire. Th—thank you, again.” She motioned to where she’d stumbled, then smiled one last time before hurrying off in the direction of Park Lane, a mousy maid trailing after her.

Hugh watched her vanishing form, hips swaying from side to side, and he mentally groaned. He should be focusing on ways to protect Juliet, not lusting after some pretty girl whose name he didn’t even know.

He climbed the steps to Prestwick House and entered. Immediately, he heard his father’s bellowing voice echoing off the walls. “I don’t care how you go about it. She needs to be found!”

With a frown, Hugh started down the corridor toward the conversation in the blue parlor. A large, swarthy looking man was grunting some answer that Hugh couldn’t quite make out. Honestly, where had his father found this man? The docks? He shivered, thinking about Juliet in this man’s clutches.  He needed to make sure that she wasn’t found, wherever she was.

Hugh cleared his throat. “Father, I was under the impression that Prestwick House was in mourning over the loss of dear cousin Georgina.”

Lord Albert’s red eyebrows rose indignantly.

“However, no one traveling Upper Brook Street would know that we have suffered any sort of loss at all.”

His father narrowed his icy eyes on him before turning his attention back to the hired man. “Find my niece.”

After the man lumbered out of the room, Lord Albert banged his cane on the ground, as if he hadn’t had Hugh’s complete attention in the first place. “I’ll thank you to not involve yourself with the running of this home. Althea will see to it that proper mourning will be conducted. Your attentions are needed elsewhere.”

“Indeed?” Hugh frowned. He really couldn’t allow himself to be sent away, as he needed to keep abreast of the operations here.

“Indeed. There are stacks of invitations waiting to be answered. Figure out which events will be the most attended and then do so yourself. If Juliet had any friends she’d go to for help, you can probably sort that out by getting to know them.”

Hugh’s mouth fell open. He certainly hadn’t expected that.

***

The Ashburn ball was bursting at the seams, and the room was larger than most. It was a crush by anyone’s standards. Thomas Clarke looked around at the upper echelons of society, all the people who knew they were better than him. Over the years he’d felt guilty that he’d deprived his lovely Lucy from her rightful place in society, and he’d worked diligently to give her everything her heart desired—including a title for their daughter. But as he stared at his dear Susan clinging to the arm of that foppish baron, Haywood, he inwardly cringed. The man was far from what he would have chosen for his little girl. He had hoped she’d find an honorable man that he could leave his businesses to, one that wouldn’t squander his life’s work. Work—such a dirty word to these people.

Still, it was fairly disappointing that she’d seemed to settle on Haywood. The man didn’t have much going for him beyond a pretty face. He turned his attention to where the baron spun Susan on the floor during a country dance of some sort. Truly she didn’t even seem that happy.

“She is quite lovely,” came a voice from beside him.

Thomas Clarke turned his attention to a young man with light colored hair in outdated, fairly shabby evening clothes. “I beg your pardon?”

The man blushed. “My apologies. You seemed to be staring at that pretty girl with black hair. I was simply remarking that she is quite lovely.”

Apparently the fellow didn’t know who Thomas was, which was strange. Everyone knew who Thomas Clarke was, and they took great pains to avoid him.  “It doesn’t bother you that her father is in trade?”

The light haired man seemed bewildered by the comment and shook his head. “Why should that bother me? I don’t even know the girl.”

Well, it certainly bothered everyone else, whether they knew her or not. Thomas offered his hand to the man, “Thomas Clarke.”

“Hugh St. Claire.”

Thomas inwardly frowned. Hugh St. Claire. So not a titled man. What a pity.

Before he could ask the young man anything else, his daughter and Haywood had joined them since the dance had come to an end. “There’s my angel.” He said and dropped a kiss on Susan’s cheek.

“Papa!” she whispered in admonishment.

But Thomas merely winked at her. “Susan, Lord Haywood, allow me to introduce Mr. St.—”

“Mr. St. Claire!” Susan finished for him, as she turned her bright eyes on the young man. A joyful smile lit up her face.

How interesting. Mr. St. Claire had said he didn’t know Susan. Thomas was re-adjusting his opinion of the man. Why would he lie about such a thing? “You’re already acquainted?”

“No.” Susan blushed. “I was clumsy the other day and Mr. St. Claire saved me from tumbling to the ground.”

“If you watched where you were going,” Haywood began, looking at Susan, “you wouldn’t stumble nearly as often.”

When Thomas saw the hurt expression settle on his daughter’s face, he was tempted to throttle the baron right there in front of everyone. But he didn’t need to as Mr. St. Claire took matters into his own hands. The young man smiled warmly at Susan. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s too much going on to focus simply on where you’re going. You’ll miss half the world if you don’t look around a bit.”

He might be a mere mister, but Thomas liked Hugh St. Claire more all the time.  The young man had handled that situation much better than he would have, and Susan was grinning up at the lad.

“Mr. St. Claire, is Lady Juliet in attendance this evening?” Susan asked, while her dark eyes twinkled at him.

Hugh St. Claire’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Miss…Clarke, is it?” Upon her nod, he continued, “Honestly, we don’t know where she is. After Lady Teynham fell ill and passed away, my cousin Juliet disappeared. I’m certain it is her anguish over the situation, so I am quite concerned for her safety. That is actually why I’ve come to Town. To look for her. You don’t happen to know who her friends are, do you? I’ve had a terrible time locating anyone.”

“She doesn’t have any,” Haywood barked, apparently unmoved by the fact that a gently bred girl was all alone somewhere. That was a bit eye opening for Thomas and he leveled his gaze on the baron.

***

“I beg your pardon.” Hugh turned his attention to the young lord who had been fairly unkind to Miss Clarke just moments earlier.

“Juliet St. Claire,” Haywood began, “is an icy chit who thinks herself above everyone. She doesn’t have any friends.”

He certainly knew that aspect of his cousin. But still, there must be someone. Certainly she would have told him she had nowhere to go, if that was the case. Though Hugh was starting to worry about her in earnest. What if she hadn’t made it to London? And if she truly had no friends, who would she turn to for help?

“There is Mr. Beckford,” Miss Clarke supplied helpfully.

Ah, yes. The rogue who had compromised Juliet and left her bruised. Hugh started to respond, but Haywood was shaking his head. “Luke Beckford’s out of Town. He’s been gone since before Lady Juliet departed. Besides I’m fairly certain they’ve ended their friendship.” Then he grasped Miss Clarke’s hand and started to tow her away from them. “Come along, my dear, we should go and pay our respects to my sister.”

But Miss Clarke shook out of his hold and smiled sweetly. “Do go on without me, my lord. I’m quite concerned about Lady Juliet and would like to stay here.”

Haywood didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance. “Suit yourself.” Then with a disapproving frown, he stared at her, shook his head, and turned into the crowd, vanishing.

Miss Clarke gently touched Hugh’s sleeve, and stared at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers. “She is a friend of mine, and I thought she was very nice. Is there anything I can do, Mr. St. Claire?”

“Indeed!” Thomas Clarke seconded. “It’s awful to think no one knows where the girl is. I’d be happy to lend you men or assistance.”

Men or assistance. Juliet could have been helped by the Clarkes. Hugh wondered why she hadn’t gone to them, and he was certain she hadn’t. Miss Clarke’s face would reveal all. So whom would she go to? “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Clarke. If you can think of anyone she was close to, that would be a great help.”

“Lady Staveley,” Miss Clarke softly suggested. “When Mr. Beckford was courting Juliet, his sister, Lady Staveley, was often around. Other than that, I don’t know. Lord Haywood is right about one thing, she was alone most of the time before that. Like I was.”

Hugh had a hard time believing that last part. Miss Clarke was exceedingly lovely. How could she have ever lacked for company?

“Excuse me for a moment,” Thomas Clarke remarked, and then he stepped into the throng of people, leaving Hugh to stare after his departing form.

“How long has she been gone?” Miss Clarke’s sweet voice brought his attention back to her.

“Nearly a fortnight,” Hugh answered, staring down at the pretty girl who had occupied his thoughts since she’d stumbled into his path a few days before. He was certain he shouldn’t be doing this. He should remain focused on Juliet. But he had to know. “What is your Christian name, Miss Clarke?”

She blinked up at him, that familiar blush settling once again on her delightful cheeks. “S—Susan.”

“Susan.” He smiled for the first time in days.  At least now he’d have a name to go along with his fantasies.  “Are you allowed to waltz?”

She shyly nodded, and Hugh’s smile widened.

“Then will you do me the honors, Miss Susan Clarke?” And he offered her his arm.

***

Hugh sailed up the steps to Prestwick House, with thoughts of Miss Susan Clarke floating around his mind. There was never a girl more lovely. Just holding her in his arms as they waltzed across the room had made his heart race. She’d smelled of lilacs, and…

“Hugh!” his father’s booming voice interrupted his reverie.

“Yes, father,” Hugh responded, walking briskly into the blue parlor.

“Did you learn anything?”

With a shrug, he dropped onto the settee, keeping his eyes on his father. “Just what we knew before. Juliet was involved with this Luke Beckford fellow, but he’s been out of Town for weeks. She didn’t appear to have many friends.” He’d be loath to mention either Susan Clarke or Lady Staveley, in any event.

“Pompous little twit,” Lord Albert grumbled, and Hugh wasn’t certain whether his father was speaking of him or Juliet. Then he stomped across the room and poured himself a glass of whiskey from the sideboard. “Tonight I paid a visit to Lord Staveley.”

Well that name caught Hugh’s attention.  “Staveley?”

His father grunted. “It seems that Lady Staveley was Georgina’s dearest friend. I thought it was worth a try…”

And? Hugh almost yelled. But he maintained his composure. Obviously, Juliet wasn’t there or his father wouldn’t be looking so cross.

“But they haven’t seen or heard from her either.”

Hugh breathed a sigh of relief. But if she wasn’t with the Staveleys, where was she?

“So just keep doing what you’re doing, going to these balls and parties. We’ll find her somehow.”

Keep going to societal events. Keep seeing Miss Susan Clarke. That, Hugh would do with no complaints at all.

~ 19 ~

Prestwick House was swathed in mourning and a black wreath adorned the front door. Luke heart sank with every step up he took until he finally reached the stoop. What had happened to make the members of Prestwick House fall into mourning? He frowned as the brass knocker clanked against the door.

When Crawford answered, the elderly man looked anguished and even older than his years, though his features seemed to relax a bit when he recognized Luke. “Hello, sir.” That was a good sign. Juliet must not have barred him from the place for the butler to be so friendly.

“Afternoon, Crawford. Is Lady Juliet in?” Luke inquired as he stepped over the threshold.

But Crawford’s eyes dropped to the floor and Luke felt his chest instantly contract. Prestwick House couldn’t be in mourning over Juliet!

“I’m sorry, Mr. Beckford, but Lady Juliet… Well, no one seems to know where she is.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. She must be out shopping or visiting someone. “I’m sorry I missed her. When do you expect her back?”

“I really couldn’t say, sir.” Though it seemed as if the old man had something he did want to say, and he pursed his lips.

Luke frowned. “Lady Teynham, then?” If he was to patch things up with Juliet, he’d have to win Georgie over. Though, he would’ve rather had Juliet by his side when he dealt with her dragon of a sister.

Crawford sniffed back a tear. “I’m afraid Lady Teynham has passed away, sir.”

Shocked, Luke’s mouth dropped open. He’d known Georgie for fifteen years or so. She was younger than him by a good five. And she’d been in perfect health when he’d last seen her. This was simply tragic.

Before he could mutter his condolences, a man he didn’t know but who seemed somehow familiar stepped into the hallway.

“Crawford, who is our guest?” intoned the man, who appeared to be an exact duplicate of the late Duke of Prestwick—receding ginger-colored hair, large bulbous nose, icy blue eyes.

Luke stepped forward and offered the man his hand. “Lucas Beckford, sir.”

The man’s frosty eyes narrowed to little slits. “Ah, the rogue who ruined my niece. I can’t imagine why you would darken the doorway here, sir.”

That accusation nearly sent Luke tumbling to the floor. Ruined was a terrible word, true though it may be. But to be spoken aloud in front of Juliet’s staff? And how the devil did this man—still Luke didn’t know his name—know what had transpired between himself and Juliet? “You dare to impugn your niece’s honor?”

The older man snorted. “You dared to take it from her. What is it you’re after, Mr. Beckford?”

“I’ve come to see Lady Juliet.”

“Indeed? Haven’t you done quite enough? You should know that I lay Georgina’s death squarely on your shoulders.”

Luke coughed in surprise. He wasn’t a saint by any stretch of imagination, and he’d done many things he wasn’t proud of. But he hadn’t even known Georgie was gone until two minutes ago—and he certainly wasn’t responsible for her death. “I’d like to know exactly how you’ve come to that conclusion,” he snapped.

The uncle, whoever he was, motioned for Luke to follow him down the corridor. Which was about bloody time. Such topics shouldn’t be discussed in front of servants, no matter how loyal they were. Finally, the man stopped in front of the blue parlor and motioned Luke inside.

There was a young man already in the room, and he stood when they entered the parlor, looking quizzically at the uncle.

But Luke paid him very little attention. He was lost in his memories. On his second trip to Prestwick House all those many weeks ago, Juliet had been silhouetted against the window and Georgie sat on the settee, knitting. A chill crept over his body, realizing that scene would never be duplicated again. What he wouldn’t give to have Juliet here, standing sentry against the window. He was certain she must be devastated over Georgie’s death and must have need of him.

“They never would have made the trip to Derbyshire if it wasn’t for you,” the uncle stated firmly.

“Father!” the young man whispered reproachfully.

That snapped Luke back to the present and glared at the older man. “I beg your pardon? And who exactly are you?”

The man finally smiled, though it was more of a sneer. “Lord Albert St. Claire, the head of this family.”

Oh. Luke winced. The man probably did have reason to distrust him then. He tried to sound placating. “Who went to Derbyshire?”

Lord Albert sighed and dropped to the settee, on which Georgie had once droned on about Mrs. Wilcox’s gout. “My nieces foolishly left London at a blistering pace after you ruined Juliet. Apparently the trip was too much for Georgina, who became sick along the way. After reaching Prestwick Chase, she succumbed to the illness and passed away.”

“Dear God,” Luke whispered in horror. It was just too hard to believe she was gone

“And then Juliet disappeared. Probably to run from the shame you brought upon her.”

“Disappeared?” Luke roared. What the devil did he mean by that?

Lord Albert glowered at him. “I thought perhaps she’d run back to you, little whore that she is. But I don’t think you’d be here now if that was the case. Nevertheless, we’ll find her.”

Luke wanted to tear Lord Albert from limb to limb. How dare he say such awful things about Juliet? She wasn’t a whore! Her only crime was in loving Luke, which should have made her a saint. And she was missing? Adrenaline began pounding through his veins. “Where could she be?” he whispered to himself, though the old nobleman heard it.

“As I said, we’ll find her. She recently sent Carraway a note, saying that she was staying with friends and she’d know when he returned and come for Edmund. So she must be somewhere near London. I have men looking for her as we speak.”

Somehow Lord Albert’s reassurances didn’t make Luke feel better. He felt as if he was going to be sick. But he nodded his head anyway. “Thank you for telling me.”

Then he started for the door. He couldn’t stay here any longer.

“You don’t know which friends she’d go to for help, do you?”

Lord Albert’s words stopped Luke in his tracks. Juliet didn’t have friends. Not really. She’d been friendly with Miss Clarke at his behest. And she rubbed along well with Caroline, but truly his sister was Georgie’s friend. But even if he knew of someone, he’d search those places himself. He didn’t trust Lord Albert as far as he could throw him. If someone was to find Juliet, it was going to be him.

***

Hugh had watched the little display with a heavy heart. He had so hoped that Juliet had been with this Luke Beckford, but that was evidently not the case. The man was clearly devastated. No one was that good an actor. He obviously cared for Juliet.

Hugh turned his attention to his father. “Why didn’t you mention Dorset?” The letter Lord Albert had absconded with from Lord Carraway’s had mentioned friends in Dorset. It was possible Luke Beckford might know who that was. And though Hugh was appalled that his father had stolen the letter for the viscount, he was relieved to know that she was safe—wherever she was.

His father was frowning at him. “Are you truly that incompetent, Hugh? Mr. Beckford is the last person I want to have that piece of information. He’s not the sort that would help us, and appears to genuinely care for that little bitch. So the last thing I need is to involve him in looking for Juliet.”

***

Luke found himself staring at his sister’s Curzon Street door. He’d been standing there for probably ten minutes, but still he hadn’t knocked. He wasn’t afraid of seeing Caroline, but he was still trying to come to terms with everything Lord Albert had told him. And having a very difficult time in doing so.

Then suddenly the door opened and David, Viscount Staveley, stood before him. His stuffy brother-in-law was of average height and light brown hair. He always wore wire-rimmed spectacles and simple, unadorned coats. Caroline was lavish, but Staveley was plain. His brother-in-law’s brow furrowed when he saw him, and for a moment Luke thought Staveley might thrash him over the puppy debacle. What a lifetime ago that seemed now.

“Dear God, Beckford! Why are you just standing in the rain?” Staveley asked in surprise.

Rain? Luke looked down at his coat, surprised to see that he was soaked through to the skin. How the devil had he not noticed that? “I—um—I’ve just come from Prestwick House.” As if that statement should explain everything.

Apparently it explained enough, as Staveley stepped aside and dragged him into the entryway. He looked back at Merton, concern etched upon his face. “Please fetch her ladyship. And then we’ll need some strong tea in the parlor.”

Staveley draped his arm around Luke’s wet middle and ushered him into his white parlor. Luke must be in a daze. He and Staveley had never seen eye to eye, and it was a bit disconcerting to have his brother-in-law suddenly doting on him.

“Sit. Sit.” Staveley directed him with a wave of his hand.

His coat still dripping wet, Luke shook his head. “Caroline will kill me if I ruin one of her chairs.”

His brother-in-law snorted at that. “Please! She’ll just spend more of my money getting new ones made. Sit, Beckford. You look as if you’re about to fall over.”

Luke shrugged out of his coat, dropping it next to a chintz chair and followed his brother-in-law’s advice. Staveley’s eyes never left him, and Luke figured he must look as pitiful as he felt. “Georgie’s dead? And Juliet’s missing?”

Staveley took a spot on the gold and white brocade settee and inclined his head. “Unfortunately, that appears to be true.”

Tears welled up in Luke’s eyes. Hearing Staveley confirm it made it more real. The other awful things Lord Albert had said still echoed in his mind. Did everyone know about Juliet’s ruination? And if so, how? He had promised her that no one would ever know. He braved a glance at his brother-in-law and took a deep breath. “Is Juliet ruined?”

Staveley looked surprised at the question and shook his head. “I don’t understand what you’re asking. I suppose she could be ruined, it all depends on where she is—who she’s with.”

“Who is ruined?” Caroline’s voice came from the open doorway, Merton right behind her with tea. Then when her eyes fell to Luke’s disheveled state, she rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Darling, what’s happened to you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke choked out.

“Tell you what, Lucas?”

He frowned at her, and shook his head in disbelief. “Juliet,” was all that came out of his mouth.

Caroline grasped his hands and held them tightly in her own. Her hazel eyes started to pool with tears. “Darling, I didn’t even know where you were.  How should I have contacted you? Besides, what would you have done?”

He didn’t know the answer to those questions, so he just stared blankly at his sister. “I was in Yorkshire.”

“Well, there’s not a lot you could have done from there anyway.” She smiled supportively.

He should never have gone.  He shouldn’t have run from her. For all the nasty things Lord Albert said, he was right on that score. It was Luke’s fault. If he hadn’t run, if he’d worked through his feelings for Juliet, then she’d never have gone to Derbyshire. Georgie wouldn’t have taken ill from the travel. And Juliet…Juliet would still be here. With him.

“I’ve got to find her.”

Caroline frowned at that and rose to her feet. “You know how resilient she is. I’m sure she’s fine.” Then she walked over to the tea service and began to pour. “Besides, darling, I’m certain you’re the very last person she’d want to see anyway.”

Fury began to build inside him, and Luke felt his face turn red. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded as his sister handed him a cup.

“It means,” she started, her voice a bit chillier than normal as she sank into a chair across from him, “that you broke that poor girl’s heart, Lucas. It means that I saw the aftermath of your little fling, and it wasn’t pretty. Juliet was in love with you, and, well, she’s not the same girl anymore. I’d just be surprised if she wanted to see you, is all.”

“Caroline,” Staveley remarked reproachfully, “I don’t think now is the time for that. He doesn’t quite seem himself.”

Never in his wildest imaginations would Luke have thought that Staveley would come to his defense. Especially against Caroline. And how exactly did his sister know what Juliet wanted? Had she seen her? Was Caroline the friend she was staying with? “Where is she, Caro? Where is Juliet?”

A nervous laugh escaped his sister’s throat. “How would I know?”

“I think you’re her friend. The one her uncle is convinced she’s staying with in London.”

“Albert St. Claire is a fool,” Caroline replied angrily.

Staveley shook his head. “Lord Albert has already been by, Luke. Lady Juliet isn’t here. My wife may be a bit meddlesome, but she would never harbor the girl from her family. Neither would I.”

Luke felt sick. How could no one know where she was? How could his sister not know? She made it her business to know everything—irritatingly so, most of the time.

The idea that his princess was out there, all alone, dealing with Georgie’s death made his heart ache.

Staveley rose from his seat and smiled at his wife. “If you’ve got this under control, sweetheart, I’ll be off. I’m sure James and Alexander are wondering what’s happened to me.”

Caroline stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Staveley caressed Caroline’s back and then tipped his head toward Luke. “I’m sure Lady Juliet is fine, Beckford. She’s a smart girl.”

Luke forced a smile to his lips and nodded in response. “Cheers, Staveley.” Once they were alone, Luke roughly rubbed his hands across his brow and turned his attention back to his sister. “Someone has to know where she is, Caroline.”

“Well, I’m sure someone does,” she answered with a slight edge to her voice. “What would you do if you found her?”

That was a very good question. What would he do? He didn’t want to live without her anymore. He wanted her by his side every hour of everyday.  But convincing her of that would take a miracle, especially after all the events of the last few weeks. His desertion. Georgie’s death. And whatever else he didn’t know. “I don’t know.”

His sister smiled tightly. “Well, when you figure that out, why don’t you tell me?”

Luke narrowed his eyes on Caroline. Suspicion crept in. It seemed as if she knew more than she was saying, and she hadn’t come out and denied knowing where Juliet was. She’d been very crafty with her selection of words. “You know where she is.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Where do you get these ideas? Honestly, Luke, have you ever known Staveley to lie? Feel free to search the place if you like.”

No. Staveley wouldn’t lie. He was as straight an arrow as they came. Luke rubbed his temples. If he’d known about Juliet earlier, he would have… What would he have done? How was he in any better shape now than he would have been a sennight ago? “Albert St. Claire says she left a note for Carraway, saying she’d come for Edmund after they arrive back in England. He thinks she’s somewhere close. But damn it, Caroline, she doesn’t have any friends she’d go to for help. None that I can think of.”

“If she’d come to me, I would have helped her. She’s lost Georgie, and I intend to fill that role for her in the future. And in doing so, I’ll protect her—even from you. So bear that in mind. If you find her and hurt her again, Lucas, you won’t be welcome here anymore. Not to see me. Not to see the children.”

He stared at his sister in disbelief. She was notorious for berating him, but she’d never once threatened to bar him from her person.

Caroline thrust out her chin and continued, “I swore to Georgie that you would never hurt Juliet, and I was wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. That girl doesn’t have anyone left to look after her, not anymore.”

Luke dropped his head in his hands. “I swear to you, Caroline, I didn’t intend to hurt her. I didn’t intend to fall in love with her either. I just needed time to sort things out in my mind. Which is why I went to Yorkshire in the first place. Then I returned home to this.”

Caroline quietly sat on the settee and kept her eyes steady on him. “You really love her?”

He smiled sadly. Of course that was the first thing Caroline latched onto. Luke took a huge breath. There was no point denying it—not to her. She was probably one of the few people who would understand anyway. “More than anything.”

Caroline frowned and studied him for a long moment before she finally spoke. “You should go home to Gosling Park, Luke.”

He scoffed at the suggestion. “Why they devil would I want to see Robert?” Truly that was the last place on earth he’d want to be.

She stood up and started for the door, throwing a look over her shoulder at him. “Don’t be dense. Go. To. Gosling. Park.”

***

Caroline saw what she hoped was understanding in her brother’s eyes. She hadn’t come out and told him Juliet was at Gosling Park. Besides she wasn’t there yet, so she hadn’t broken her promise. Not technically. Miss Mitford and the children were still at Masten House for a few more days. But she couldn’t risk sending Luke there, not with Albert St. Claire in Town. It would be better for them to interact in Dorset, away from the bustle of Town. They loved each other, of that she was certain. So they just needed a little help finding their way back to one another.

Robert would probably berate her if he found out she sent Luke there, especially as things were so fragile with Lydia at the moment. But Caroline was certain that everything would be for the best. Luke wouldn’t interfere with Robert and Lydia’s budding romance, and Robert would be too busy fawning over his wife to notice Luke and Juliet.

It was perfect.

Caroline just wished she could be there herself.

~ 20 ~

Luke flew through the doors to his rooms in Piccadilly. Juliet was in Gosling Park. Caroline might as well have yelled it from the rafters. Though what his princess was doing at his ancestral home, he didn’t have a clue. And if she was there with Robert, his brother was probably poisoning her mind ever more against him. He’d never been a choir boy, and Robert had often had to clean up the messes Luke had created. He needed to get to Dorset quickly.

There was a mountain of correspondence waiting for him, and Luke frowned at the pile inside his front door. Before Juliet had entered his life, he could have been gone from home for a year and he wouldn’t have had this much to go through. Invitations were strewn left and right, but something caught his attention—a calling card. He picked it up from the pile and turned it over in his hand and stared at a scrawled note on the back. Mr. Cooper, a Bow Street Runner, wanted to discuss the theft of Louisa Ridgemont’s emerald pendant with him. What the devil was that about?

Then his heart thudded as he recognized the Masten crest on one letter. Robert rarely sent him any correspondence. Did it have something to do with Juliet? He discarded the Bow Street calling card and tore open the note from his brother.

Lucas,

I am starting back for Gosling Park in the morning, but tonight I received a disturbing visit from Mr. Cooper of Bow Street. I do not presume to understand what would have possessed you to take Lady Ridgemont’s emerald pendant, but you will return it with great haste. Aside from being extremely disappointed in your actions, I do not appreciate having to deal with your scurrilous activities. Pray see to it that I do not have to do so in the future.

Masten

It was in the same vein as most of Robert’s letters, which was why Luke usually chose to ignore his brother’s missives. It did not surprise him that Louisa had invented some wild tale to get his attention, but he did frown at the fact that she’d involved a detective from Bow Street. Truly, what did she expect to gain from this little display?

However, Louisa had unknowingly helped him gain entrance to Gosling Park.  He folded Robert’s letter and stuffed it into his pocket. This was his ticket to Juliet.

***

All things considered, Luke made fairly good time to his brother’s seaside estate in Dorset. As his coach got closer and closer, he could taste the salt in the air. Funny, that always took him back to his childhood. To racing Caroline across the north lawn. Watching ships travel back and forth across the coast. Hearing his mother’s lilting voice. No matter where he ended up, Gosling Park would always be home.

As his coach rolled to a stop, Luke looked through the curtains at the massive medieval castle that loomed above him. He smiled up at the vine covered tower that was closest to his position on the circular drive. It had been so long since he’d been home that he’d forgotten how foreboding it appeared. Growing up here, he hadn’t appreciated the sheer magnitude of the property.  As a boy he’d thought it had been great fun playing in the keep, the courtyard, and the towers.

Before he entered the castle, there was someplace he had to go first.

Luke had always loved the gardens at Gosling Park and he made his way there. The gardens reminded him of his mother, and he’d swear her spirit still resided amongst her beloved flowers. She had been beautiful with golden locks, clear green eyes, and the face of an angel—he was the only one of her children that favored her. She was so young when she’d died, and Luke was just a small child, but he could still remember her kneeling over her flowering bushes, clipping off dead ends, and caressing her roses, careful not to touch any thorns.

He started down one of the paths, toward a bench he and Caroline had used from time to time to hide from their governess as children. Today there was someone sitting on the bench, and for a split second he thought it was Juliet. But as he crept closer, his heart stopped for an entirely different reason.

With her pretty face pointed to the sky and her strawberry blond hair shimmering radiantly in the sunlight was the one woman Luke tried not to ever think about—Lydia.

His sister-in-law, the Countess of Masten.

She’d been only sixteen when he’d seduced her at a country house party hosted by Caroline’s late in-laws. Luke cringed at the memory. At the time, she’d captivated him by her beauty and perceived innocence. But Lydia was far from the innocent she had appeared, and he had immediately regretted the entire experience. Then the worst had happened. The late Lord Staveley had stumbled upon them in a most compromising situation, but there wasn’t anything anyone could have said or done that would have made him marry the little tart.

It wasn’t until later that he realized that his morally upstanding brother had married the girl in his place. Most of the time, Luke tried not to think about that, as it was one of the few things in life he ever felt guilty over. Though he and Robert couldn’t be more different, his brother did deserve better than Lydia.

For years, Robert had kept Lydia isolated at his estate in Cheshire. Image meant more than anything to Robert, and he wasn’t about to have his scandalous wife running about London. For once Luke had been pleased that Robert was wholly rigid and unforgiving, in that he never had to worry about facing Lydia again.

But here she sat at Gosling Park.

Unfortunately, Lydia was even lovelier than she had been at sixteen. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest, watching the young siren bask in the sun. He was confused completely by her appearance in Dorset.

“Watch yourself,” he finally drawled smoothly. “You don’t want to get freckles. Most unbecoming of a countess.”

Lydia opened her eyes and spun around. She stared at him in a disbelief that echoed his own. The girl was still gorgeous and he could easily remember his naïve desire to have her. She must have sensed his thoughts, because her face suddenly flushed red and she took a deep intake of air.

Luke laughed with an easy charm. “It’s been a long time, Lydia.”

“Mr. Beckford!” she finally managed to choke out. “What the devil are you doing here?”

He could ask her that same question. There was no doubt from the look in her eyes that she was just as unhappy to see him as he was to see her. Luke raised his brow. “What a warm reception from my dear sister-in-law.” Then he patted his coat pocket. “King Robert has summoned me, and like the good subject I am, I’ve answered his call.”

A look of confusion crossed Lydia’s face and she just sat there gaping at him. With a grin Luke offered her his arm, which she regarded with the warmth of an approaching asp. Again, Luke laughed. “I promise not to bite, Lydia—unless, of course, you ask me to.”

She refused his arm and scowled at him. “At the risk of being rude, Mr. Beckford, I think I’ll remain here. Following you got me into a spot of trouble last time. Besides, I don’t think my husband would approve.”

He was surprised that Lydia cared at all about what Robert thought. Curiosity was now killing him, so Luke sank down onto the bench beside her and smiled. “Oh, Robert never approves of anything, love. So, tell me however did you break out of Blackstone? Chisel and hammer? Or something more dastardly? Really, I’m dying to find out.”

Abruptly, she stood up and backed away from him. “Forgive me, but I have things to attend to. Good day, Mr. Beckford.”

Quickly, she started down the garden path toward the manor house, but Luke was not about to be dismissed so easily and he quickly snared her waist in his hands. “Not so fast, Lady Masten.”

Lydia turned in his arms and looked up at him in what he was sure was feigned surprise. “Unhand me this instant, you cad!”

After five years, Luke had nearly forgotten what a good little actress she was—pretending to be pure and innocent, when she was anything but. How big a fool did she think he still was? With a smirk on his face, he released her. “We’re not yet finished, Lydia—you and I.”

She glared at him. Bright blue eyes had turned a stormy gray. “We were finished when you abandoned me to your brother’s wrath.”

He was not going to accept that blame. He hadn’t made Robert propose. In fact, now that he thought about it, Robert may have been her target all along. Robert was the Earl of Masten, after all. Robert was as rich as Croesus. Robert could make her a countess. But Robert wasn’t one to dally with little tarts posing as innocent misses. No, that had been Luke. He raised an eyebrow and met her scathing gaze. “That hasn’t been such a bad deal, has it? I mean the fool did marry you. You’re now the Countess of Masten, not a position you could’ve aspired to without my help.”

“That kind of help I can do without, thank you,” she nearly spat at him.

An actress to the last, was she? Lydia really could give the chits in Drury Lane a run for their money. “So spirited, Lydia.” Luke stepped back to take in her form. “And you’ve filled out so nicely in all the right places.”

With pursed lips, she turned her back on him and stormed furiously back toward the house.

What game was she playing now? Why would Robert have her here? To keep an eye on her, probably. Had she gotten into even more trouble in Cheshire? He’d have to find out. But he wasn’t about to let her treat him with such disregard, so he called after her, “You should be nice to me, unless you want Robert to learn all your dirty little secrets.”

She didn’t even slow her gait as she sped toward the castle.

After a few moments alone in his mother’s garden, Luke strolled down the path that led to Gosling’s massive entrance. He didn’t even have to knock. Dunsley, the old family butler, greeted him with his usual dour expression and a curt nod. “Mr. Beckford.”

Well, he didn’t care if the man liked him or not. He wasn’t here to make friends—he was here to find Juliet and convince her to take him back. Luke handed his beaver hat to the old man. “Dunsley, please inform his lordship’s guest that I would like a word with her.”

The old man blinked at him. “Guest, sir?”

“Yes, guest. Lady Juliet St. Claire.”

With a bewildered look, Dunsley shook his head, “‘Tis only Lord and Lady Masten in residence. The earl has gone out to tenant cottages today and the countess has just retired to her rooms.”

Luke frowned at the old man. He was certain that Caroline meant for him to come here. That Juliet was here. Don’t be dense. Go. To. Gosling. Park. Was it possible that no one knew she was here? That seemed absurd, but he was here. And she had to be.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been such a bastard when he’d stumbled upon Lydia and just asked her. But seeing her had surprised him to no end.  However, he didn’t really need any help. He grew up here. He knew Gosling better than anyone. And he’d find her.

***

But he hadn’t found her.

He’d looked everywhere. Both towers. The dower house. The abandoned rectory. She wasn’t here, and now it was late in the day. Perhaps she was in Lulworth, or one of the tenant cottages—though truthfully he couldn’t see here there. But Caroline did send him here. There must be something he was missing. He’d have to wait and talk to Robert, whenever he returned.

Exhausted, Luke finally retired to the green salon that overlooked the garden. Even in the waning light, it still looked like it had when his mother ruled over the place, and it was so comforting to feel her presence. He needed that feeling—he just hadn’t realized it until now.

He poured himself some of whiskey from the sideboard and helped himself to one of Robert’s horse breeding periodicals—not that he was interested in such things, but there weren’t any other choices for reading material. His brother was notoriously boring.

Luke stretched out across the green and gold brocade settee and read an article about Romeo, one of the latest Ascot winners. Which of course brought his mind back to Juliet.

Suddenly, the door to the salon slammed shut. The jarring sound caused Luke to nearly jump out of his skin, sloshing some of the whiskey from his glass onto his embroidered waistcoat. He looked up in surprise to see his brother Robert, the intimidating Earl of Masten, standing before him. “Damn it, Robert. There’s no need to come blazing in here like a pack of elephants.”

“Herd,” Robert remarked with a growl.

“Heard what?”

“No, a herd. Wolves travel in packs, elephants in herds.”

Luke rolled his eyes and rested his head against the back of the settee. His brother was always so tedious. “Blister it, Robert. You know what I meant.”

Robert simply glared back at him. It was the first time Luke realized how much like their father Robert truly looked. He was tall, with golden brown hair, and angry brown eyes. Brown eyes—he could go forever without thinking about brown eyes.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” Robert demanded.

This wasn’t the time to ask about Juliet. With the way his brother was looking at him, Luke could tell he was close to being tossed out on his ear. And he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. So, with an exasperated sigh, Luke retrieved a letter from his pocket and hurled it toward his brother who was now pacing determinedly. “Answering your summons, brother.”

Robert snatched up the letter, but didn’t bother to look down at it. “I didn’t summon you here. I told you to take care of that business with the Ridgemont pendant.”

Luke threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, thank you for your faith in me, as always.” Then he stood and dropped his glass, and the remaining amount of whiskey left in it, on the mahogany table in front of him. “I didn’t know that you’d reconciled with Lydia. Hell, Rob, I didn’t know you were on speaking terms with your fair wife.”

Robert stopped mid-pace to refocus his glare on Luke. “My relationship with my wife is none of your concern, Lucas.”

Luke shrugged, retrieved his whiskey, and motioned with a mock toast toward his brother. “Really, Rob, Lydia was much warmer with her welcome to me earlier, you know.” Not much, but some.

But that was apparently the exact wrong thing to say, because before Luke knew what had even happened, Robert had him in a choke hold. “Stay away from my wife!” he hissed. “Do you hear me, you lecherous bastard?”

Somehow Luke was able to pry his brother’s fingers from around his throat then doubled over while he gasped for breath. “Blast you, Robert!” He heaved heavily and slowly took in air. “What the devil has gotten into you?” Truly, he’d never known his brother to be physically violent.

Robert was now breathing heavily, “All I asked was that you give back the bloody pendant, Lucas. I didn’t request that you pay me a visit.”

Luke had had enough. No, he wasn’t the upstanding prig that Robert was. He was flawed with many faults, but he wasn’t a thief. And it made his blood boil that his brother thought he was. “For God’s sake, I don’t have any damned sapphire pendant.”

“Emerald,” Robert growled in response.

“Oh, well—” Luke threw his arms up in the air sardonically— “that makes all the difference, doesn’t it? Since I go around lifting all the emerald pendants I can get my hands on.” It was a good thing Robert didn’t know about the two sapphire hair pins that were currently in Luke’s coat pocket, or he’d never believe that.

The two of them stood there, just sizing the other one up. Then finally Robert sank into a sage and cream colored chintz chair and shook his head. “So, then tell me this—why would Lady Ridgemont accuse you, Luke?”

Revenge. Power. To simply be a bitch. Instead he shrugged his answer, and settled for the unemotional truth. “Louisa is put out that I’ve broken things off with her.” Then he fell back on the settee and rested his elbows on his knees. “She’s got some Bow Street blighter dogging my every step and now she’s got you beckoning me all the way to Dorset.”

“I did not beckon you to Dorset.”

True, but he couldn’t let his brother make him leave. With a sheepish grin, Luke stared across the room at Robert. “Perhaps not, but do you mind if I stay for a while? I’m trying to keep as far away from Louisa as possible at the moment.”

Robert heaved a sigh and glared at Luke. “You know, none of this would be necessary if you could just keep that prick of yours where it belongs.”

That was an understatement, and Luke threw back his head and laughed. “Leave it to you, Robert, to cut to the chase. But what do you say, old man? I need a place to stay for a while.”

“You’re not a young blade anymore, Luke. It’s way past time you settled down. Go back to London, end things with Lady Ridgemont, and grow the devil up.”

“Spoken like the older brother I know and love. But please, Rob, just a few days.”

“Why don’t you hide out at Staveley’s?”

With a roguish grin, Luke shrugged. “Actually, Caroline is put out with me at the moment.”

Robert frowned as if the decision pained him. Then he finally nodded.  “Fine. But just a few days. And I want you to stay far away from Lydia.”

“I wouldn’t dream of bothering her.” Truly, he wouldn’t.

“See that you don’t or you’ll answer to me. And in the meantime, I expect you to send at note to Mr. Cooper, the Bow Street blighter you mentioned earlier. I won’t harbor a fugitive.”

“You’re the best, Robert. I always say so.”

With a shake of his head, Robert strode purposefully from the room, leaving Luke to stare after him. Something odd was going on here.

***

Luke had known Robert all his life. He had watched his older brother perform his duties without complaint and live up to the standards society expected of him. And over the years Luke had come to believe certain things about Robert. One was that his upstanding brother always did the right thing. And another was that watching a patch of grass grow was more exciting than boring old Robert. From the earliest of ages Luke had decided to not follow in his older brother’s high moral footsteps—life was to be enjoyed, not endured.

However, tonight as he sat in the dining hall at Gosling Park, Luke discovered something else about his brother, something he’d never realized before—Robert was a giant fool. How was it that he’d known his brother for more than thirty years and he was just now seeing that Robert was such a dim-witted dolt?

It was nauseating to watch his brother continually cast Lydia mooncalf gazes across the table. And it was equally disturbing to listen to the earl and countess laugh together like a pair of giddy, smitten fools. What the devil was going on here?

Luke narrowed his eyes on his sister-in-law. It was obvious that she was the answer to all of his questions. Somehow this deceitful, little witch had cast some sort of spell on Robert. That was the only explanation that made any sense—because the man sitting at the head of this table was a complete stranger to Luke. Though he looked like Robert, there was no way that man was his brother. Not by a long shot.

~ 21 ~

She had been traveling for days in a coach with Peter and Penny Harris, Jonathan Kistler, and Mrs. Norris, and Juliet was anxious to make it to Gosling Park. After they’d left the coaching inn the day before, they’d been followed for quite a while by a couple of rough looking men on horseback. The children had been certain the fellows were highway men, but Juliet felt in the pit of her stomach they were looking for her. Though in the end, the men turned back and nothing else of interest had occurred on the journey, other than they had to make numerous stops due to poor Peter’s weak stomach. However, she didn’t think she could rest easily until they safely arrived at their destination.

Mrs. Norris had continued to offer the children wrapped lemon candies, which they were thrilled to get. The old nurse wasn’t terribly bright, in Juliet’s opinion, but she was rather sweet. Kistler, on the other hand, was grating on many levels. The irritable valet complained nearly non-stop and looked down his nose at everyone. Juliet had to force herself from putting the man in his place, but a quiet governess would never do such a thing, and keeping her identity a secret was of the utmost importance. She wouldn’t risk Edmund’s future for anything.

Finally, they entered through the large retaining wall and Juliet released an anxious breath. They were almost there. Thank Heavens! Moments later, the coach came to an abrupt stop and everyone piled out. Juliet was left nearly speechless as she stared at a castle that seemed to reach to the sky.

“Gor!” Peter whispered in awe at her side.

“Do ye think we’re gonna live ‘ere?” Penny responded.

Juliet cleared her throat and tapped Penny on the shoulder.

The girl looked a bit chagrined and tried her sentence again. “Do ye think we’re gonna live here?”

Since only Kistler had ever stepped foot in Gosling Park, all eyes turned to him. With an elitist look down his nose at the group, the valet marched around the corner and into a small door at the base of the castle with everyone else on his heels. Immediately, they were assaulted by the most scrumptious smells. Biscuits. Ham. And some sort of tart, perhaps cherry? They were in the kitchens—two massive rooms with a cook and two scullery maids already preparing dinner.

Juliet had never been in a kitchen before, but if they all smelled this delightful, she’d make it a habit to visit more often. No one had eaten particularly well on the road, and the scents from this room made even Kistler’s prissy stomach grumble. But before anyone could snatch even the tiniest of morsels, an elderly man dressed in livery stood at the main door. He had silver hair and kindly blue eyes that twinkled as he smiled at the children. “Master Peter and Miss Penelope, I presume.”

“Penny,” Penny corrected.

The old man winked at her. “I’m Dunsley. Allow me to lead you to your rooms.” Then he glanced at Juliet. “Miss Mitford?” When she nodded, he looked at the nurse. “And Mrs. Norris?”

“Yes, indeed,” the nurse answered.

Dunsley held the door wide and gestured them through. “Welcome to Gosling Park. I’m certain you must be exhausted from your trip.”

***

Where the devil was Robert? Luke frowned down at the slowly cooling baked eggs on the plate in front of him. He’d wanted to talk to his brother ever since dinner the night before. At first he thought he could grab Robert’s ear during after-dinner port, but his brother had done away with that formality—saying something inane about not wanting Lydia to be left alone. Robert always had after-dinner port.

True, Luke hadn’t dined with his brother in well over a year, but some things never change. Some people always stood on ceremony—Robert was one of those people.

And another thing, Robert was always up at the crack of dawn. Luke looked down again at his pocket watch. It was well past noon already, nearly one o’clock. Where in the world was the always dependable Earl of Masten? It was certainly not like his brother to keep Town hours in Dorset. Honestly, it wasn’t like Robert to keep Town hours in Town.

Just then, the doors opened and a giddy Lydia and a very satisfied looking Robert strolled casually into the breakfast room.

Damn! Luke frowned.

Would he ever get his brother alone? Must Lydia always be present?  Judging from the well-pleased look on his brother’s face, the little tart was doing an excellent job of keeping Robert occupied.

“Oh, morning, Luke.” His brother nodded his head in greeting and then began to fill his plate from the sideboard.

“Morning? A little late for that, brother.”

Robert smirked good-naturedly. Good naturedly! Robert was never good natured. Never!

Luke scowled in response.

Robert took a seat across from him and started to slice up his sausages. “I’m headed to the stables today, Luke. Would you care to join me?”

“Of course,” Luke responded casually, but he breathed a sigh of relief. This was the opportunity to talk with his brother that he’d been looking for. “By the way, are you still interested in Haywood’s stud?”

That immediately got Robert’s attention and he pushed his plate away. “You mean Devil’s Inferno?”

Luke nodded. “The old boy’s run into a bit of financial trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually get him to part with the animal. Haywood doesn’t care about horseflesh the same way his father did.” And Will could certainly use the money.

With a sly grin, Robert nodded appreciatively. “Good to know. Thank you.”

Lydia slid into a seat next to Robert but refused to meet Luke’s gaze, which was just fine with him. She added some sugar and milk to her coffee and then sipped it tentatively. If one didn’t know better, they would think the Countess of Masten was a picture of grace and propriety. But Luke did know better.

As Luke stuffed a piece of dry toast into his mouth and reached for his cup, the most bizarre combination of sounds hit his ears—first a high pitch squeal that could have shattered one’s ears and then several pairs of heeled boots running down the corridor in front of the breakfast room. He nearly choked from the surprise and spilled his tepid coffee onto his plate which splashed into his lap. Honestly, this trip to Gosling Park had been murder on his wardrobe.

Apparently, the strange cacophony of sounds meant something to Lydia, because she smiled gleefully and jumped up from her chair. Luke watched in surprise as she threw open the breakfast room doors and nearly ran into a small entourage led by Dunsley. The butler was followed by two scrawny, freckle-faced children, a plump and elderly nurse, Robert’s irritable valet Kistler, and...

Juliet.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. She stood at the back of the rowdy group. Though she didn’t look at all like herself. What the devil was she doing dressed like a servant in a drab housedress, with wire-rimmed glasses and her pretty, chestnut locks pulled back into a severe-looking bun?

He blinked. Twice. Then the memory of their night on the Thames flashed through his mind. His pulse raced, and he felt suddenly weak, but elated that he’d finally found her.

She’d seen him too, and her eyes widened with fear, then they silently begged him not to say anything. He owed her that—at least until he discovered what was going on.

Dunsley stepped aside for Lydia, who bent down to catch the small girl in her arms. “Penny! I’m so glad to see you.”

The little girl held tightly to the countess. “It took forever to get ‘ere, my lady.”

Who were these children? And why did they sound like gutter trash?  Luke was just about to ask, but noticed that the boy was holding Juliet’s hand. He’d wait a bit longer to get answers.

Lydia kissed the girl’s cheek. “I know it was a long ride. Did you enjoy it?”

“Petey got sick all over the floor and we ‘ad to stop. It was awful, but not me. I didn’t get sick.”

Petey must be the boy, who had now stepped in front of Juliet and was blushing from head to toe at the mention of his weak stomach. Then Lydia tapped the girl’s nose with her finger. “You mustn’t embarrass your brother, Penny. He’s taken such good care of you.”

The boy and girl were siblings. They did look alike. Both had brown hair and brown eyes, same bone structure. The girl, Penny he thought Lydia had called her, pulled back from the countess to stare questioningly at Robert. She whispered loudly enough for the entire room to hear her say, “I didn’t think ‘e was gonna be ‘ere.”

Robert chuckled and bent down to tousle the child’s hair. “Well, Miss Penny, there’s been a change of plans. Hope you don’t mind, but from now on we’ll all be together here at Gosling Park.”

The mystery of Robert’s life was getting larger by the minute. First he’d reconciled with Lydia and now he was living with strange children at Gosling Park. Luke looked back at Juliet, only to find her evading his gaze.

Penny noticed Luke and asked boldly, “And ‘oo are you? Are you livin’ ‘ere too?”

Juliet’s eyes flashed to his, panic etching her features. Lydia stood and gestured to Luke with an air of formality. “This is Lord Masten’s brother, Mr. Beckford. He’s staying only a few days.” Then she met his eyes briefly. “This is Peter and Penny Harris. They’re Masten’s wards.”

Robert was the last person in the world Luke could imagine watching after orphaned children. He wasn’t the warm and fuzzy sort. Not by a long shot. Luke’s brow shot upward then he stared incredulously at his brother. “You have wards?”

“It’s a long story, Luke.” Robert smirked and then he nodded to the boy. “Mr. Beckford and I are going down to the stables today. You’ll come with us.”

The boy suddenly turned an ashen grey. Perhaps his stomach was still weak. With that in mind, Luke sidled a bit further away from the boy—just in case—but Juliet took a step closer to Peter and squeezed his shoulders in a gesture of support.  The interaction made Luke think of Edmund.

He had never been more confused in his life. He’d have given his entire fortune to find out what the devil was going on. He was staring so hard a Juliet, willing her to look at him, that he didn’t hear anything else that was said. Not until he heard Robert address Juliet.

“You must be Miss Mitford,” his brother remarked.

Miss Mitford? Luke nearly choked. As in the name of Edmund’s dowdy governess? His eyes returned to Juliet. How he ached to touch her. The smile that was always in her pretty brown eyes was gone.

Something was definitely wrong.

Juliet dropped a curtsey and continued to evade Luke’s eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

“Lady Staveley has great confidence in your abilities, Miss Mitford. I expect you won’t disappoint me. Tomorrow morning you will stop by my study and we’ll go over the children’s curriculum.”

“Of course, my lord,” she replied softly.

Lady Staveley? So this was all Caroline’s doing? But why? Luke couldn’t even begin to imagine what occurrences had taken place for Juliet to arrive at Gosling pretending to be a governess.

Robert continued, “Dunsley will see you and the children to the schoolroom and then to your chambers.” To her chambers. The governess’ lodgings, off the far side of the schoolroom. The layout flashed in Luke’s mind.

“Thank you, Lord Masten.”

Robert then stared at the boy. “Peter, I’ll expect you on the front lawn in ten minutes.”

Peter slowly nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Then the group began following Dunsley down the hallway. Juliet remained at the rear, staying behind the children and their nurse. At the last possible moment, before she disappeared completely, she finally glanced back at Luke. She smiled weakly and then vanished around a corner. What had that smile meant?

“Humph.” Kistler let his disapproving gaze drift from Robert to the coffee stain on Luke’s breeches and back. Then the pesky valet tsked softly with a shake of his head and slipped away down a back corridor.

Luke turned his attention to his brother. “When did you acquire wards, Robert?” And more importantly, their governess?

Lydia cast him a dismissive look. “Mr. Beckford, please excuse us, will you?”

Gladly. He’d waited forever to see Juliet and he wasn’t about to waste any more time. With a curt nod for his sister-in-law, Luke started down the corridor.

***

What was Luke doing here?

Caroline had said he hadn’t seen the earl in a few years! And yet he just showed up here, of all places. Was it possible Luke and his brother were closer than Caroline realized? Juliet rejected that idea almost as quickly as it entered her mind. Luke himself had called Lord Masten rigid and humorless. She didn’t think they were particularly close.  So what was he doing here? Was it just coincidence? Or fate?

Juliet shook those thoughts away.  She didn’t believe in fate. Georgie was not fated to die in Derbyshire. She would never believe that. No, fate wasn’t real. But Luke Beckford sure was. She hadn’t even allowed herself to look at him earlier, on the off chance that he had those green eyes focused on her. She couldn’t bear to face him looking like this. Hiding. Vulnerable. Alone.

She took another steadying breath as she followed the old butler, touring the third floor, though Juliet was certain she only heard half of what he told her. Peter and Penny would share a room that attached to the schoolroom on the north side, and she would take a small room that bordered it on the south side.

It was possible that Luke didn’t recognize her. She didn’t look at all like herself. Having glanced at her own reflection more than once, Miss Mitford did not favor Lady Juliet in the slightest.  She didn’t even feel like herself anymore.

He was just staying a few days. It should be easy to avoid him until then. She would simply stay in the schoolroom or in her small chambers. Dear Heavens, she wasn’t prepared to see him. She doubted she ever would be.

As Peter and Penny gleefully explored their new surroundings, Juliet stepped into the small room that Dunsley had indicated was hers. But her breath caught in her throat when she discovered Luke was there, waiting for her. His arms were folded across his broad chest and he was leaning against the sole window, blocking most of the natural light from the room. A more handsome man didn’t exist, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest, like it always did when he was near.

She swallowed, uncomfortably. All hopes that he hadn’t recognized her had instantly vanished as she met those devilish green eyes of his.

“Princess, what are you doing here?”

She’d nearly forgotten how just the sound of his voice made her heart melt. Oh, how she wished she didn’t love this man. He’d been nothing but trouble since the day she’d met him. Glorious, delicious trouble—But trouble just the same.

However, things were different now. She wasn’t the same girl, and she had a whole different set of concerns than she’d had then. Falling back under Luke Beckford’s spell was not going to happen. There was too much at risk. For her. For Edmund.

Juliet shook her head and pointed toward the schoolroom. “Please remove yourself from my room.”

Luke lazily pushed himself away from the window and started toward the door. Thank goodness. That was easier than Juliet had expected, and she started to breathe a sigh of relief. Until…

The door quietly closed and Juliet realized Luke hadn’t left the small room at all.  Juliet closed her eyes when he hauled her into his arms. He smelled so familiar. His citric shaving lotion tickled at her nose and she tried to block out the memories that flooded her mind. Of this man kneeling between her legs and very slowly making love to her.

“I thought I’d never see you again, princess,” he whispered, while stroking her back.

Juliet wanted to feel him around her, inside her. To forget that the last few weeks had even happened. To believe in him.

But too much had happened.

“Please, Luke,” she whispered.

“Please what?” his gravelly voice asked in her ear.

“Please leave.” Then she pushed at his chest and tried to step away from him, but the room was so small she found herself backed up against the door with his hands at her waist.

He was staring at her, concern etched across his handsome brow. Then he shook his head. “Juliet, I’ve nearly driven myself mad searching for you. Don’t ask me to go.”

Searching for her? Why? He’d already taken everything she had to give. She couldn’t do this again. Not with him. Juliet blinked up at him. “Luke, I don’t have it in me…I—I can’t—”

“Shh.” He closed the small gap between them and softly caressed her cheek. “You’re not alone anymore, princess. I’m here.”

Now. But for how long? Juliet couldn’t count on him, no matter how desperately she wanted to. “I don’t need you, Luke. I can manage on my own.”

His eyes widened in surprise and then he frowned. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Yes, you do,” she agreed. “Please. Just go wherever it is that you go.”

But he shook his head. “Not anymore, Juliet. My place is with you, and I won’t leave you. Not ever again.”

“Your place is with me? Since when?” she asked tartly. “Honestly, Luke, you don’t even know who I am.” At least not who she was now, because she wasn’t the same girl anymore—not even close.

Then he leaned in, brushed his lips against her ear, and whispered, “Who do you think you’re fooling, princess? I know you as if you were a part of me, and I haven’t been able to think of anything but you since that night.”

That night. She tried again to push those images from her mind. But that was getting more difficult as she felt his warm breath on her cheek and she met those devilish green eyes. “Luke.”

A seductive grin crossed his face. “I know that you always smell like spring flowers. I know that your lips taste like the sweetest honey. I know how you lightly gasp when I thrust inside you.”

Unrepentant bastard. Juliet smacked his chest, narrowing her eyes on him. “Aren’t you supposed to be headed to the stables with Lord Masten?”

Luke reached for the door handle behind her, pressing himself against her, his wicked eyes twinkling. “Don’t unpack, princess. When I finish with Robert, you and I will start for London and—”

“No!” she almost wailed. Going back to London would be a death sentence if her uncle found her. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Luke furrowed his brow and studied her face, which she was sure looked panicked. “What sort of trouble are you in, Juliet?”

“Why?” she shot back without thinking. “Are you going to help me? You’d actually have to stick around and that’s so unlike you.”

When he said nothing, but continued to stare down at her, Juliet scoffed and pushed him away. “I didn’t think so. Just don’t tell them who I am, Luke. Promise me.” She couldn’t risk Lord Masten throwing her out on her ear. She didn’t have anywhere else to hide, at least no place as safe as Gosling Park.

After a moment, Luke clasped her hand and pulled her against him, concern etched in his brow. “I’m not going anywhere, Juliet. And of course, I’ll help you. Anything you need. Just tell me what’s going on.”

No, thank you. She’d already learned that lesson well. “I’m handling the situation myself, Luke. You say you know me, but I know you too, and I don’t want your help. Just promise me you won’t say a word about who I am.”

Again he stared at her, for what seemed forever, before he responded with a nod. “If that’s what you want, princess.”

It wasn’t until that moment that Juliet realized what she really wanted was for him to save her. To be her hero, so she wouldn’t have to do this alone. But that wasn’t Luke. It never had been. She nodded her answer. “It is.”

“As you wish,” he answered quietly. “I promise not to tell anyone who you really are, Juliet. But you and I will have a long talk, once I finish up with Robert.”

Then he was gone.

~ 22 ~

Juliet went through the schoolroom in a daze. She and Penny had started looking around the old room that Juliet was certain hadn’t been used since Caroline was a child. Not that it wasn’t clean—it was—but the room seemed lonely, if such a thing made sense.

She was surprised when Lady Masten floated into the room wearing a flowing jonquil day dress. The countess truly was one of the most beautiful women Juliet had ever seen and she remembered the conversation Mr. Bennett and his brother had had about the woman—and Luke. Lady Masten’s presence immediately grabbed Penny’s attention, and the little girl rushed again into the countess’ awaiting arms.

Juliet smiled at the scene, admiring Lady Masten for taking the orphans into her home.  She and Georgie had supported various charities, which generally consisted of Juliet simply donating money to one cause or another. But Lady Masten had taken two street urchins from Covent Garden to raise and give them a better life. Apparently, she was as lovely inside as she was out.

Soon, Penny had convinced Juliet and the countess to squeeze into a child-sized table and chairs with her for a tea party. Both women were happy to comply, and the little girl filled the time relaying Lady Masten with stories from the journey to Dorset.

“An’ then Petey thot ‘e saw a ‘ighwayman followin’ us, bu’—”

Juliet cleared her throat loudly, and with raised brows she met Penny’s big brown eyes. Whenever the girl was excited, her accent got worse. Penny looked away bashfully and frowned as she tried to concentrate. “Sorry, Miss Mitford. He thought he saw a highwayman following us,” Penny was careful to enunciate.

Juliet smiled proudly at the child. “Very good, Penny. That sounds much better.”

The little girl beamed from the praise. “But, Lady Masten, it was just a bloke on a horse.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” the countess remarked indulgently. “I’d hate for you to be captured by highwaymen.”

“Penny has quite an imagination. She entertained us the entire journey,” Juliet offered with a smile.

Penny took a sip of tea, holding her pinkie out, just like Juliet had taught her. Lady Masten took notice of the little girl’s manners and turned her deep, blue eyes on Juliet. “However did Lady Staveley find you?”

She felt her throat start to close in on her and Juliet forced a smile to her face, though she was certain it looked pained. “M—my cousin works for Lady Staveley, and she knew I’d just left my last post.” It was the story she and Caroline had agreed upon, but lying to Lady Masten made Juliet squirm uncomfortably.

The countess smiled. “Really? Where were you before?”

Juliet took a long sip of tea. Then she sighed before continuing with the tale they had concocted. “Essex, my lady.”

She hated being untruthful and was relieved with Penny announced proudly, “In London, Miss Mitford took us to the Staveleys'. I an’ Petey got to play with Adam and Rachel and Emma.”

“And did you have fun?” Lady Masten asked the child with interest.

“Oh, yes, my lady. Is there anyone to play with ‘ere?”

Juliet cleared her throat again.

Exasperated, Penny tried again. “Is there anyone to play with here?”

“I’m certain we can find someone when you’re through with your studies,” the countess answered.

The little girl frowned at that. She did not particularly care for her studies, but Caroline Staveley had explained to her that it was her duty if she was going to live with the Mastens.

Then out of nowhere, the schoolroom door flew open and Peter ran in excitedly as if the devil was chasing him, a broad smile covered his face. This was surprising, as the boy was fairly quiet and rarely spoke. Juliet watched as he hugged his sister wildly and words just exploded from his mouth, “Pen, Lord Masten let me touch one of ‘is ‘orses. Star Dancer. An’ she’s gonna ‘ave a baby, an’ Lord Masten said I could name it.”

Penny scrunched up her face. “I want to name a ‘orse.”

Juliet cleared her throat, and the little girl scowled. “I want to name a horse,” she clarified.

Lady Masten stood and stroked the girl’s hair. “Perhaps his lordship will let you name the next foal, Penny.” Then she turned her attention back to the excited boy. “I’m so glad that you enjoyed yourself, Peter.”

“Oh, my lady, Star Dancer is—” he screwed up his face trying to get the words just right— “an Anglo-Arabian. And Lord Masten says she’s my kin’red spiri’, wha’ever tha’ is.”

“That means you understand each other.” The countess smiled at him.

Peter nodded eagerly. “I knew there was something wrong with ‘er, and I was right.”

“Her,” Penny corrected miserably. “Why doesn’t Miss Mitford make that sound when Petey says it wrong?”

Juliet suppressed a grin. If Penny was already noticing Peter’s accent, then she was doing her job well.

Lady Masten bent down and dropped a kiss on Penny’s head. “Remember what I told you, Penny. Be nice to your brother, Peter has taken good care of you, you little imp.”

Soundly chastised, Penny nodded sullenly and whispered under her breath, “I still wanna name a ‘orse.”

After smiling at the children one last time, Lady Masten started for the door. Then she stopped and looked back at Juliet. “Miss Mitford, may I have a word with you?”

“Of course,” Juliet rose from her seat at the little table and crossed the room to the countess’ side. “Yes, my lady?”

Lady Masten smiled warmly. “I am hosting a dinner party tomorrow night, and I’ve found that my numbers are slightly off. Could I convince you to join us?”

A dinner party? Juliet felt the smile fall from her face. The last thing she wanted to do was see people. She was supposed to be in hiding. “I don’t know, my lady.”

“Oh, please say yes. I’ve yet to meet any of my neighbors and I’m so hoping for a success. You may take an extra day off next week. Really, Miss Mitford, it would mean so much to me.”

What was the harm? Juliet didn’t know anyone in Dorset. And it was just one little dinner party. She sighed and then nodded her head. “If you really want me to come.”

“Oh, I do!” the countess gushed. “I have just received several new dresses. If you would like to borrow one, I –”

Juliet cut her off. “I don’t think that would be proper at all. I’m sure I have something that will be suitable, Lady Masten.”

The countess smiled warmly in return. “If you change your mind the offer still stands. And one more thing, Miss Mitford.”

“Yes, my lady?”

The smile left Lady Masten’s face. She took a deep breath and pursed her lips.  “My brother-in-law… Well, Mr. Beckford can be very persuasive with his attentions. I just want you to keep your guard up and be careful around him.”

Good heavens! Juliet nearly choked, but it turned into a surprised laugh. “Oh, Lady Masten, don’t worry about me. I know Mr. —I know all about Mr. Beckford. Remember, my cousin works for Lady Staveley.”

The countess seemed to look relieved at that. She squeezed Juliet’s hand and then departed the schoolroom.

***

Luke swirled whiskey around in his glass. He was tired of watching Robert swoon all over Lydia. He took another drink. Where was Juliet? He’d convinced his brother that the new governess should be invited to dine with the family, as she was more than just a mere servant. Honestly, he was surprised at how quickly his brother had been agreeable to the suggestion. It seemed that prolonged interaction with Lydia made Robert agreeable to almost anything. The fool had turned soft.

Just as he was starting to think that she wouldn’t show, Juliet quietly entered the drawing room and stood near the entrance. Even dressed in a drab grey gown with her hair pulled tightly away from her face, she took his breath away.  Dear God, he loved her. He’d been able to think of little else most of the day. She caught his eye, and then looked away and smiled at his brother.

Robert nodded his head. “Good evening, Miss Mitford. We are so glad you chose to join us.”

“Thank you, Lord Masten, for inviting me.”

“Luke,” Robert began, “escort Miss Mitford to dinner, will you?”

“It would be my pleasure.” And it would. He could hardly wait to touch her again. Luke crossed the room and offered her his arm. “Miss Mitford.”

Juliet scowled up at him, but she took his arm anyway. “What are you doing?” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“Following my brother’s orders. What else?” He raised one eye brow, as he waited for her to challenge him. God, how he’d missed her. There was no one like her in the world.

With Juliet on his arm, Luke followed Robert and Lydia into Gosling’s large dining room. He held out her chair and winked at her when she slid into her seat. Then he sat himself across from her so he could look into those delicious brown eyes over dinner.  “So, Miss Mitford,” he began, as he ran his eyes across her lovely form, “how long have you been a governess?”

She shot daggers at him with her eyes, and he resisted the urge to grin. If she wanted to play this little game, he was more than willing to participate.

“Six years, Mr. Beckford.”

“Six years?” he echoed disbelievingly. “My dear, you don’t look old enough to have been in service that long.”

“I started young, sir,” she bit out, as soup was ladled into her bowl by a footman.

Robert was frowning at him, so Luke suppressed his grin and focused on his food for a while. Talk had turned to the dinner party that Lydia was hosting the next night, and his sister-in-law informed them that Miss Mitford had agreed to help round out her numbers.  Luke couldn’t hide his smile any longer.  Tomorrow night would be an event not to miss. How was Juliet, his regal princess, going to convince a group of country gentry that she was a mere governess?

By the time desert, an apple torte, was served, Luke had held his tongue as long as he was able. Juliet had avoided his gaze most of the night, looking either at one of their companions or her food, and he was tired of being ignored. The only way to get her to look at him was to talk to her directly. He cleared his throat. “Miss Mitford, where do you hail from?”

Her brown eyes flashed to his. “Essex.”

He smiled at her lie. Really, what was she up to? “Indeed? And you’ve been a governess for six years?”

“I believe I’ve already answered that, sir.”

He agreed with a slight incline of his head. “So you did. Do you have family, Miss Mitford?”

Her stoic façade nearly faltered, but she managed to shake her head.  “Not really, Mr. Beckford. I have a sister living in America, and a brother in India. Everyone else is g—gone.”

He was a cad. She was clearly fighting back tears. Why had he pressed her? Oh, yes, because she was ignoring him so handily.  He tried to apologize with a smile. “I see… Well, anyway, I’m certain you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Indeed,” Juliet’s voice sounded hollow and she stared down at her desert.

***

As soon as dinner was through, Juliet excused herself and started back for her small room. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Luke as was possible. The bastard. Why had he tortured her so at dinner?

She was storming up the stairs when she heard him call her name. “Juliet, wait!”

She turned around and stomped back down the stone stairs, stopping on the step above him. The she raised her hand and slapped his face. Hard. The sound echod off the walls. “How dare you!” she hissed.

But he didn’t step away or touch his reddened cheek. Instead, he took her hand in his and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so merciless.”

She refused to melt against him. That always got her in trouble. She stiffened in his embrace. “Scoundrel!” she muttered against his chest.

“I’m so sorry about Georgie. I didn’t mean to hurt you, princess.”

Juliet’s resolve began to weaken, which wouldn’t be good at all, so she pushed away from him and took two backward steps, raising herself even higher on the stairs. “Good night, Mr. Beckford.”

“Juliet,” he whispered. “don’t run away from me. Let me help you.”

She simply shook her head at that. “I’ve already told you, I don’t need your help. Good evening.” Then she flew up the stairs and down the corridor until she reached her room, leaning against the door. She prayed she would be able to withstand all the temptations that Luke Beckford offered.

~ 23 ~

First thing in the morning, Juliet knocked on the door to Lord Masten’s study.

“Come.” The earl’s deep voiced beckoned her inside.

She took a steadying breath and entered. Lord Masten was an intimidating figure, to be sure. She’d seen him bark at most of his staff and he seemed fairly stiff. Rigid and humorless flitted about in her mind. He nodded curtly when he saw her and waived her into a seat. “Lady Staveley has great confidence in your abilities and I trust my sister implicitly. But tell me, Miss Mitford, what are your plans for the children?”

Juliet sat forward in her seat and met the earl’s dark brown eyes. “Well.” She cleared her throat. It was unusual for anyone to make her ill at ease, but this man seemed strong beyond belief and he was daunting. “Lord Masten, I believe the children should be taught a variety of subjects.  However, I believe that I must first reteach them how to speak.”

“How to speak?” He narrowed his eyes on her, and leaned back in his seat.

“Indeed. You are very gracious to have opened your doors to these children—”

“I’m not interested in your opinion on my philanthropic pursuits, Miss Mitford. I want to know how you plan to educate these children. I would like for Peter to attend Eton when he is able.”

Eton! Good heavens! The child would be laughed out of the gates. Juliet frowned at him. “My lord, I cannot express to you how bad an idea that is at the moment. While it is my belief that both Peter and Penny are intelligent children, their manner of speech will hold them back. As I explained to Lady Staveley, they could easily be the next Aristotle or da Vinci, but no one will pay their words any attention if they sound like urchins from Covent Garden.”

The earl began to chuckle and Juliet stared at him in confusion. “Good show, Miss Mitford. Good show. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to hear an honest opinion from someone on my staff. Most people simply tell me what they think I want to hear. I like your spirit. Teach them as you see fit.”

Juliet managed to keep her mouth from falling open. “Thank you, my lord.”

“But don’t disappoint me.”

***

Juliet had barred him from the schoolroom, but she couldn’t stay in there all day. So, Luke devised a plan. He made his way down to the kitchen and smiled when he saw Cook. She was a rotund woman, now in her fifties with a head of grey hair and a mole on her chin. She was generally temperamental and hated people being in her space, but she’d adored Luke since he was a child.

He leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, if it isn’t the prettiest lady in all of Dorset.”

Cook spun around and smiled, despite herself. “Master Lucas! I heard ye were here. How come ye took so long comin’ to see me?” She wiped her hands on her apron then opened her arms to hug him.

Luke stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her, and dropped a kiss on her fleshy cheek. “How are you, old girl?”

She released him and frowned. “Tired.” Cook stretched her fingers. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m feelin’ it all the way in me bones.”

Luke winked at her. “My brother will have apoplexy if you ask to be pensioned off.  No one in Dorset can match your genius in the kitchen.”

A blush settled on her old cheeks, then she shook her head.  “Lord Masten could have an apoplexy about any number o’ things. He’s always bellowin’ about somethin’.”

He laughed at that. “True. But speaking of your genius abilities in the kitchen…”

She narrowed her eyes on him, and punched her fists to her hips. “Ye're not here flatterin’ me for nuthin’, are ye? What is it ye want, ye old rogue?”

With a wink and a smile, Luke nodded his head. It was always best to come clean with Cook. He’d learned that as a child. “Well, I was hoping I could convince you to make me up a picnic luncheon.”

“For the pretty little governess?”

Luke nearly choked. He’d forgotten how quickly things spread around the servants’ quarters. His lips quirked up. “What do you know about the pretty little governess?”

“Well,” Cook began and turned back to her long wooden table and began chopping carrots, with what looked like a meat cleaver. “Kistler says she’s mighty full o’ herself--”

Well, that was certainly Juliet. But… “Kistler?” Luke asked in disbelief. No one was more full of themselves than the valet, and that included Robert at his worst.

Cook nodded. “Aye. And he says that you couldn’t keep yer eyes off o’ her when they all arrived yesterday. Dunsley says that you shut yerself up in her room wi’ her not long after. And then—” she turned and assessed him with her grey-green eyes— “his lordship invited her to dine with all o’ ye. That, Master Lucas, is not like the earl. Not even lately. So everyone’s certain it was yer suggestion.”

He shrugged, walked lazily to the side of the room where a tray of biscuits were cooling on a rack. Cook’s biscuits really were the best. Even in London nothing tasted quite so good. They always melted right in one’s mouth.

“Don’t ye even think about it,” she warned. Then she pointed her intimidating knife at him and motioned for him to step away from her biscuits.  When he complied with a raised brow, she chuckled to herself. “I’ll put some in yer basket.”

“Enough for four?” he asked with roguish grin.

“Takin’ her charges wi’ ye, huh?”

“I don’t think I can get her to agree to come by herself. She’s a bit wary of me.”

Cook grinned at that. “Smart girl, huh? All right. Luncheon for four.”

***

A few hours later, Luke paced the corridor with his picnic basked in hand, waiting until Juliet and the children took a break for lunch. There must be something he could do to break down the wall she’d built around herself.  He was, of course, relieved that she was safe and that he’d found her, but he wanted more than that. He wanted all of her, all the time.  He wanted her to trust him, and he wanted to know what she was hiding from. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her love.

Finally, the door opened and he found himself staring like a fool into her big, brown eyes. God, how he loved this woman. But her mouth was drawn up tight and she shook her head. “Mr. Beckford, what are you doing?”

He ignored her. She would just refuse him, and he couldn’t let that happen. Instead, he sank to his haunches and looked the two orphans in the eyes, slightly swinging his picnic basket in front of them. “Can I interest anyone in a delightful luncheon of pheasant and berry tarts?”

Penny bounced on her toes while Peter looked covetously at the basket. Finally the boy glanced up at Juliet. “Can we, Miss Mitford?”

“May we?” she corrected the boy with a smile.

“May we, Miss Mitford?” he asked again.

Juliet sighed, glared at Luke, then nodded to Peter. “If that’s what you want.”

Penny squealed and threw herself onto Luke, nearly toppling him over. “Watch it, little one. You don’t want to smash the tarts.”

Juliet removed the child and the basket from Luke’s grasp and cocked her head to one side. “How kind of you to think of us, sir. We’ll let you know how the tarts are.” Then she started to usher the children down the corridor, with the apparent intent to leave him behind.

Luke hopped to his feet and chased after them, easily catching Juliet’s waist in his hands. He pulled her back against his chest, and whispered in her ear. “You can have all the tarts you want, princess. You’re my favorite dessert.” Then before she could respond without the children hearing her, he snatched the basket back from her hands and darted in front of the others, leading the way. “What’s it to be, Master Peter? The north lawn, the seashore, or the keep?”

“Th’ seashore?” the boy asked with surprise in his voice.

“Indeed,” Luke responded. “I’ll show you the path Masten and I used when we were your age. It is a wonderful place to hide from one’s governess—not that you should do so.”

***

Juliet scowled at Luke’s back the whole way out of the castle and then along an overgrown path that finally dumped them out onto a rocky shoreline. Honestly, what was he after? The man was so infuriating, and it was quite frustrating that Peter and Penny had taken to him so quickly. Both of them chatted away and giggled at every charming, little witticism that left Luke’s mouth.

They finally settled on some large, flat rocks that overlooked the sea. Even with a cloudless, grey sky, it was an imposing sight. Luke had spread a blanket out across the rock and had opened the basket before dropping down next to Juliet, trapping her hand in his. “Peter, why don’t you serve your sister and then help yourself?”

When the boy complied with his wishes, Luke focused his green eyes on Juliet. “There, now, isn’t this nicer than the schoolroom?”

She frowned in response, and snatched her hand back from his. “Manipulating young children with food? Is there any level you won’t sink to?”

He grinned at that, and leaned in close. So close she could smell his shaving lotion again. Her heart flipped in her chest. “Princess, there’s nothing I won’t do for you.”

“Except leave me alone?”

“Except that,” he agreed and placed his hand on her leg. “I won’t lose you again.”

“You don’t have me now,” she hissed under her breath.

“All in good time, Juliet.”

The children seemed to be focusing an inordinate amount of attention on them, so Juliet smiled tightly at the young pair. “How is the pheasant?”

The boy nodded, then turned his attention to Luke. “’re ye friends with Miss Mitford, Mr. Beckford?”

Luke grinned at the boy. “Call me Uncle Luke. And yes, Miss Mitford and I are old friends. You’re very fortunate to be placed in her hands. I’m awfully jealous of you.”

“Uncle Luke?” Penny asked with a giggle. “But ye’re not our’ uncle.”

Luke shrugged. “I might as well be, since Lord Masten has taken you to rear.  Besides all people your age call me that. I understand you were great friends with Adam, Rachel, and Emma Benton. All three of them call me Uncle Luke.”

“That’s because you are their uncle,” Juliet mumbled to herself, but Luke heard her and he winked in response.

“They’re the only other children I know… Except for the Duke of Prestwick.”

Juliet was going to beat him senseless, but before she could come up with an appropriate jab, Penny giggled again. “Dukes cain’t be children.”

Luke grinned at the girl and shook his head. “Well, of course a duke can be a child. There’s not many dukes to begin with, but I assure you the Duke of Prestwick is a just a boy. Miss Mitford, how old would you say His Grace of Prestwick is? Ten? Eleven?”

“Nine,” Juliet answered between clenched teeth.

“There you are. Nine,” Luke repeated. “And a very spirited nine at that. I must say, he’s one of my most favorite children. Of course, I’m partial to the boy, as I am desperately in love with his sister.”

Juliet’s heart stopped beating. She was certain of it. Luke in love with her? She didn’t believe it. Not that it mattered now. Even if it was true, it was too late. Too much had happened.

“’is sister?” Penny asked and scooted closer to Luke, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Is she pretty, like a fairy princess?”

Luke beamed at the girl. “Exactly like a fairy princess. In fact, Miss Penny, that’s what I’ve always called her.”

Juliet couldn’t sit and listen to this. She stood up and brushed out her skirts. “Mr. Beckford, when you’ve all finished your luncheon, please return the children to the schoolroom.”

Then she turned on her heel and started back up the path to the castle. “Juliet!” Luke called after her, disappointment laced in his voice. But she kept going, refusing to look back at him. It wouldn’t take much time in his company for her to completely lose herself to him again, and she couldn’t allow that.

She made her way back into the schoolroom and slumped down in a chair by one of the windows. Lady Masten had said Luke was only staying a few days. Juliet prayed she could last until he left.

“You’d best watch out for Mr. Beckford,” came a voice from the other side of the room. Juliet spun her head to find Kistler leaning against one of the book cases, with an elitist frown on his slender face.

She was quite capable of taking care of herself, and she was getting fairly tired of everyone she met warning her about Luke. She knew exactly who he was, and didn’t need anyone’s help, thank you, very much. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied frostily. “In the meantime, Kistler, pray excuse yourself from my schoolroom.”

The valet’s eyes grew wide at that, but he nodded his head curtly and let himself out.

***

Juliet cringed as she entered Gosling Park’s drawing room. She had chosen a blue dress that was so dark it was almost black. It was still serviceable, but was by far the nicest dress she had brought with her to Dorset. She quietly made her way to one corner of the spacious room and hoped to blend into the woodwork. Why had Lady Masten insisted on her attendance at this dinner?

Including the earl and countess, there were five couples in attendance. Sir Phillip Cressley, the aging magistrate and his middle-aged wife stood on opposite ends of the room, ignoring each other. Lady Cressley, who wore a flamboyant orange and purple gown flirted shamelessly with both Luke and a dour looking Lord Edgecroft, who was apparently the Mastens’ closest neighbor. Meanwhile, the spindly and angular Lady Edgecroft chatted amiably with Lord and Lady Masten and Mr. and Mrs. Vaughan, a pleasant couple from Lulworth. And in the far corner of the room, Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace, the vicar and his wife quietly watched the goings on.

For a while, Juliet felt certain that she had indeed managed to make herself invisible, until Lady Edgecroft turned her pointed nose in her direction. “And you!” the lady remarked loudly. “Just where do I know you from?”

Juliet had never seen the woman in her life. At least she didn’t think she had. She shook her head in confusion. But the lady edged closer to her, and Juliet wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before! I’m certain of it.”

Before Juliet could respond, Luke extricated himself from Lady Cressley and came to her rescue. “Oh, my dear Lady Edgecroft, I believe Miss Mitford just has one of those faces, you know?”

“One of those faces?” Lady Edgecroft repeated with a frown.

“You know,” Luke drawled charmingly as he reached Juliet’s side, “she could be a prissy duke’s daughter, or a wealthy heiress embroiled in some adventure, or a shy governess looking after a couple charges. Miss Mitford looks like she could be anybody. Though, I think of her as a diamond hiding among paste imitations.”

Blast him! Was it necessary to say all of that? Juliet sent him an irritated glance and then turned her attention back to Lady Edgecroft. “I’m sure I would remember if we’d met before, my lady.” Then she slowly made her way to other side of the room.

***

After a moment of idle chitchat with Lady Edgecroft, Luke excused himself and followed Juliet to the corner she was now hiding in. When he reached her, she glared up at him. He couldn’t help but smile. She was always so radiant when she was annoyed. “What was all of that about?” she demanded.

Luke shrugged and edged closer to her, running his hand along her arm. “You’re welcome for coming to your rescue.”

“I already told you I don’t want your help.” She looked away from him and Luke’s eyes dropped to her very prim bodice.

The dowdy dress didn’t display her heavenly body at all. He quite enjoyed the fact that he was the only man in the room to know the delights that this awful dress hid from everyone else’s view. She was stunning and he was the only one who knew it. “Princess,” he whispered, “I’ll never—”

“Lord Masten,” Juliet smiled as his brother suddenly joined them.

Robert nodded at her and then met Luke’s eyes. “Miss Mitford, would you mind terribly giving me a moment alone with my brother?”

“Not at all.” She sounded thankful, and then crossed the room to where Lydia and Mrs. Vaughan were chatting quietly.

Robert narrowed his eyes. “Lucas, tell me I don’t have to ask you to refrain yourself from seducing a member of my staff.”

Luke looked from his brother to Juliet across the room and finally again back to Robert. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I think I’ll save us both the embarrassment of actually answering that,” he responded curtly.

Luke scowled and then turned his attention back to his princess. “Let me put your mind at ease, Robert. I have no intention of seducing Miss Mitford.” But enjoying the pleasure of Juliet St. Claire was something he was determined to have again, and often.

Before Robert could question him further, the doors to the drawing room flew open and Peter and Penny raced inside. There was an audible gasp from the crowd at the pair’s sudden appearance. The children were panting heavily and trying to catch their breath. Penny’s brown hair had fallen out of her braid, and hung about her face—making her look like a wild vagrant. Peter’s little cheeks were red from exertion. When the children saw that the room full of adults stared at them in shock, they both stopped in their tracks.

Lydia rushed toward the children and placed a comforting hand on each of their faces. “What are you doing here, my darlings? You should be up with Mrs. Norris.”

Peter looked at all the anxious faces, focused on him and his sister, and froze right up. But Penny excitedly took the countess’ arm and squeezed tightly. “We went down to the stables, like Lord Masten said we could. And, Lady Masten, the baby, the—” she squished up her face, obviously trying to get the words right— “foal. We saw it get born. It just fell—”

“Thank you, Penny,” Lydia loudly cut the child off, blushing to her roots. “I’m sure his lordship would love to hear all about it—tomorrow.” She stood up tall and began to usher the children from the room. “Let me take you back up to Mrs. Norris.”

But Juliet stepped forward. “Allow me, my lady.”

Not missing a beat, Luke crossed the room and offered Juliet his arm. “I’ll escort you, Miss Mitford. Gosling can be a bit confusing to navigate and I’d hate for you to find yourself lost in this maze of a house.”

Grudgingly, Juliet took his proffered arm and then the two of them steered the children back through the drawing room doors. Once they were in the corridor, she turned angrily and stared at him. “Will you just go away?”

“Absolutely not,” he answered airily and began to lead the children to the back staircase. “I adore you, Juliet, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She followed them, seething the whole way—he could tell because she sighed loudly with every other breath she took, while he chatted to Peter and Penny about the birth of the foal. But that was fine with Luke. He knew she was only fighting him because she still cared for him and didn’t want to be hurt again. That was perfectly understandable. If it took the rest of his life, he’d convince her she was safe with him. That her heart was safe with him.

After they’d deposited the orphans in the care of Mrs. Norris, he took her hand in his and started down a side passageway that was rarely used. She still hadn’t uttered a word, and Luke chanced a glance at her. Juliet’s pretty heart-shaped face was turning red, so he stopped in his tracks. Her brown eyes flashed with anger up at him.

“Juliet,” he spoke softly and gently stroked her cheek.

“Why can you never do as I ask?”

“Because, princess, you don’t really want what you’re asking of me.”

“How dare you! I know very well what I want. I want you to leave Gosling Park and forget you ever saw me, that you ever knew me.”

He tilted her chin up with his fingers and shook his head. “Then you’re asking me to wither away and die.”

She simply gaped up at him.

“I know you still love me, Juliet. Let me back in.” He touched her chest, right above her heart with his fingers. “I love you with all my heart.”

Her eyes started to tear up and she sucked in a breath. “Heavens, Luke. Must you always make things so difficult? Why did you have to go and say that?”

He chuckled and slid his hand down to her waist, settling her firmly against him. “Because it’s true. Juliet, I am so terribly sorry that I hurt you. It was never my intent. I swear to you. I just needed time to sort through my thoughts.”

“And you’ve done that now?”

He felt his mouth quirk up into a smile. “Aye. Let me love you.”

“I—” Her bottom lip trembled. “I want to believe you.”

But it was going to take time. He could see that. She had been through so much, and time was something he had plenty of. “I’ll prove it to you, princess. No matter how long it takes.”

His eyes dropped to her lips when she licked them, and he lowered his head, slowly claiming her mouth. He felt light-headed, finally having her back in his arms, where she belonged.

She sighed and ran her hands up his chest, settling them behind his neck. Luke wrapped his arms more tightly around her. It was the first time he’d felt right since he’d taken her on his yacht.

“Luke,” she whispered sometime later and he dragged his mouth from her neck.

“Hmm?”

She swallowed and slid her arms from him. “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

Grudgingly, he led her back to the drawing room.

Luke wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get through dinner. Lydia had sat him next to Juliet, which would have been wonderful, except that Robert was on her other side. How he wanted to touch her and whisper naughty things in her ear; but he couldn’t so much as let his gaze linger on her, without catching Robert’s attention. Damn his brother for being so irritatingly perceptive. Instead he’d had to converse with Mrs. Vaughan, a young matron who had been childhood friends with Caroline, for most of the night. The entire event was dreadfully painful in a torturous sort of way. He willed the hours away, until he could have Juliet to himself.

When the women left the men to their port, Juliet quietly excused herself from the group. She had much to think about, and socializing with the unrefined Dorset gentry was not something she would have wanted to do as Juliet St. Claire, and certainly didn’t relish in her role as Miss Mitford. Besides, she desperately needed time alone.

What was she doing? How could she open herself up to Luke again? Honestly, how could she continue to be that foolish? Just as she entered her small room, those questions vanished. In only his shirt sleeves and trousers, Luke leaned against her window, with his arms folded across his chest. He truly was a Greek God.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, though she knew her reluctance came through in her voice. She’d wanted time to think, but Luke’s appearance in her room made that possibility quite unlikely.  And she so needed to get her thoughts in order. “Shouldn’t you be enjoying your port?”

“I’d much rather enjoy you,” he responded with a rakish grin.

She shut the door behind her and met his eyes. How could she be so determined and strong with everyone else, but always so weak-willed with him? The devilish twinkle in his eyes was capable of melting her resolve unlike anything she’d ever known. “You know you shouldn’t be here?” Then she walked toward the room’s small mirror hanging on the wall and started to remove her hairpins.

Before she knew it, Luke’s hands rested on her shoulders and he whispered in her ear, “I have something that belongs to you.”

Juliet looked over her shoulder at him, and frowned when he removed two sapphire hairpins from his pocket. She recognized them immediately from that night. “What are you doing with those?” She turned around to face him.

Luke shrugged with a charming smile. “They were all I had to remember you by.” Then he placed them in her palm and removed the remaining pins in her hair, releasing her tight bun.

She blinked up at him and shook her head in bewilderment. “Kelfield said you didn’t believe in foolish romanticism.”

His handsome face turned, momentarily, to stone. “Princess, when I’m envisioning you naked beneath me, the last name I want to hear is Kelfield.”

Juliet couldn’t help but grin and she took a step away from him. Funny how just the mention of the duke could still make him jealous. “Well, how should I know what’s on your mind?”

“I’m always envisioning you naked beneath me,” he answered with a wink.

Her heart leapt in her chest. “So then I should never mention His Grace?”

“No, never,” he agreed and backed her against one wall.

Really, she should put up some resistance. Though it was difficult to do so, knowing that he’d held on to something as sentimental as her hairpins for more than a month. She swallowed hard. “Won’t they all notice that we’re both gone?”

He simply smiled and brushed his warm hand against her cheek. “Let them.”

Juliet could respond, Luke scooped her up in his arms and claimed her mouth with his. All of her arguments vanished into thin air. He gently laid her on the small bed and fell into place beside her. Luke tucked one of her now errant curls behind her ear, then fingered the prim bodice of her dress. “Where did you find this horrible thing?”

The question brought her back to the reality of her situation, the reasons for her ruse as governess. She might not be able to resist Luke with her heart and body, but her mind was a different thing altogether. She couldn’t trust him with her secrets, not when Edmund’s safety would be the cost. Distraction would have to work.

Juliet shook her head and ran her hand down the fine lawn covering Luke’s muscular chest. “Do you want to make love to me or talk?” He was a physical being, and there was no question in her mind which option he would choose. Besides, she wanted him, needed to feel the way she had on the Thames.

A wolfish grin spread across his face. “Still my eager minx, are you?” He rolled her on to her side and began to unbutton her dress until it hung loosely across her. Juliet pulled the dress from her body and flung it across the room, then she quickly unbuttoned his trousers.

Luke nuzzled against her neck, whispering words of love and devotion. Then he lifted her chemise and untied her drawers. Juliet’s breath quickened when he slid two of his long fingers inside her while he feasted on one exposed breast. She wasn’t a governess. They weren’t in Dorset. It was as if they were the only two people alive, floating in the clouds.

After he’d relieved her of her clothing and tortured her with both his tongue and teeth, Luke nudged her legs open and slowly pushed himself inside her. His deep green eyes bored into hers, until he filled her completely. It was just like before, as if their souls were joined. Then he began to move inside her and Juliet lost track of all rational thought.

For Luke, it was even better than their first time. She was still gloriously tight, but now she knew how to respond to his thrusts, and he easily lost himself inside her. As he felt her clench around his shaft and find release, he found his own and spilled himself completely inside her, reaching a pinnacle of peace that until now had eluded him.

Then he collapsed beside her and cradled her back against him. Awash in joyless bliss, Luke splayed his hand possessively across her belly and buried his head in the curls around her neck. “Princess, you know I could get you with child,” he whispered in her ear. It surprised him that the thought brought a smile to his lips. A child would tie them together for the rest of their lives

***

Juliet caressed Luke’s hand where he held her against him. She’d just had the same thought. Luke’s child. The idea made her giddy. She would love that child more than life itself. “I know,” she whispered back. And they would be safe. When Edmund returned, they could go to Boston. She could pass herself off as a widow.  Then after her brother reached his majority, they could all return to London and she could tell everyone that she’d married in America and that her husband had passed away. The child wouldn’t be exposed as a bastard, and she would always have a piece of Luke with her forever.

Her thoughts of America and children evaporated when he rolled her beneath him and he made love to her all over again.

~ 24 ~

Caroline adored Chester Paddock, the Marquess of Astwick. In many ways he was like another older brother to her. More light-hearted than Robert and more respectable than Luke. Besides, she could talk to him about practically anything, which wasn’t necessarily the case with her real brothers. So she was happy when she saw him enter the Ellsworth Ballroom, as it had been too long since she’d talked to Chet—who really did need to find a bride of his own. Once she had finished with Robert and Luke, she’d have to turn her attentions on the affable marquess.

“Why does that look terrify me?” Chet asked as he kissed her cheek.

Caroline grinned up at him. “Darling, do you remember Staveley’s sister, Grace?”

“Don’t even think about it, Caro. Grace Benton isn’t my sort.”

Drat! Staveley’s youngest sister wasn’t anybody’s sort, which really was distressing as she needed to find someone for the overzealous flirt. “You sound like Luke,” she complained with a pout.

Chet roared with laughter. “That has to be the first time anyone has ever said that to me. Speaking of the profligate, where is Lucas?”

“Gosling Park.”

“Gosling Park?” Chet nearly choked on his punch. “The same Gosling Park where Masten has taken his beautiful bride?” At her nod, he rubbed his brow. “I can imagine the fireworks. Have you heard any word from Rob?”

“Indeed. Everything is well. In fact, he plans to adopt those little urchins Lydia found.”

With a smirk, Chet shook his head. “She’s really wrapped him around her little finger, hasn’t she?”

Caroline agreed with a nod of her head. “It’s about time. Don’t you think?”

The situation with Robert and Lydia couldn’t be going better if she’d planned it that way, which indeed she had. The missives from her oldest brother were vindication of her meddling.  She only wished she had more news about her other brother at Gosling Park, but that scoundrel hadn’t written her once since he departed for Dorset. She certainly couldn’t ask Robert about Luke’s progress. She’d just have to wait it out, and patience was not one of Caroline’s best qualities.

The marquess winked at her. “You, my dear, are truly amazing. It takes a brave woman to blindside Masten the way you did. Honestly, Caro, even I wouldn’t have sprung his wife on him like that.”

He was obviously referring to her ball when she’d brought Robert and his wife together, and she blushed from the praise. “I’m not brave, Chet. Just confident in my abilities to escape death at the hands of my brother. I’ve had lots of practice.”

As he chuckled, they were interrupted. “Lady Staveley,” Hugh St. Claire broke in, wearing much more fashionable evening attire than he normally did. “How wonderful to see you again.”

Caroline frowned. She didn’t know what to think about this young man. He had helped Juliet escape Derbyshire, but he was now here in London with his father looking for her. Could he have had a change of heart? She wasn’t sure, and therefore kept her distance from the man most of the time. “Mr. St. Claire, have you met Lord Astwick?”

Hugh nodded and offered his hand to Chet. “We meet again, Astwick.”

Chet grinned and leaned conspiratorially toward Caroline. “This fellow has a good head on his shoulders. He actually beat me at piquet.”

Which was something no one did. He must have won a fair amount. The new, fashionable clothes made sense. Chet wasn’t a fool by anyone’s standards, and the fact that he liked Hugh meant something to Caroline. Just as she was about to smile at the young man, they were joined by a harassed looking Thomas Clarke.

The tradesman’s brow was furrowed and his mouth drawn up tight. “St. Claire, where is my daughter?”

A look of concern flashed across Hugh’s eye and he shook his head. “I’ve only just arrived, sir, and haven’t yet seen her this evening.”

Mr. Clarke scanned the room again, his countenance darkening. “I’ve been looking for quite some time with no luck.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to help you look for her, sir.” Hugh replied. That offer was quickly seconded by both Caroline and Chet, and the four of them split up and began searching through the throng of people.

Miss Clarke was known to have hidden in quiet places in the past, or so Caroline had heard. With that in mind, she started off toward the Ellsworth library. But as she rounded one corner on her journey, a whimpering sound coming from a small parlor caught her attention. Whimpering? Caroline pushed open the door and her mouth nearly fell to the floor.

She’d found Miss Clarke, and it was a good thing too.

William Haywood held the poor terrified girl against the back wall, the top half of her gown torn and hanging at her waist, exposing much more flesh than was proper. And for perhaps the first time in her life, Caroline was speechless.

Miss Clarke’s whimpers turned to a relieved intake of air when she spotted Caroline in the doorway. At the sound, Haywood turned around and grinned victoriously. “See that, my dear? Someone was bound to find us. I suppose I shall have to marry you now, to protect your reputation.”

Tears started to stream down Miss Clarke’s face, and Caroline stomped forward. The despicable cad! If she had a gun, she’d maim him on the spot. Sans weapon, she glared at the young man. “William Haywood, what do you think you’re doing?”

With a smug bow, Haywood met her eyes. “Excuse me, Lady Staveley, but I’d best go speak to the girl’s father.” Then he quickly took his leave.

Caroline reached out her hand to the poor, frightened girl. “Miss Clarke, are you hurt?”

The girl took a staggering breath and shook her head, while struggling to make the ripped bodice presentable, which wasn’t ever going to happen. The dress was completely ruined. “Please, Lady Staveley, you can’t let him find my father.”

“Dear Heavens, Susan!” Hugh St. Claire’s anguished voice rang out from the doorway.

***

Hugh couldn’t believe his eyes as he took in the scene. Over the last few weeks in London, he’d grown very attached to Susan Clarke. She was without malice or artifice, and he completely adored the girl, who was now quivering beside Lady Staveley. Susan’s dress was destroyed and tears ran down her blotchy cheeks.

Moments earlier he’d seen William Haywood saunter from the room, like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. His easy gait should have made Hugh suspicious, but he’d been so focused on finding Susan he hadn’t spared the baron a second thought. But now looking at her trembling lips, it was obvious that Haywood had done this to her.

He rushed to Susan’s side and she threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his new cravat. Words wouldn’t come out of her mouth, so Hugh simply held her in his arms, caressing her back with his hands. “It’ll be all right, sweetheart.” He would make it all right, no matter what it took.

Lady Staveley met his eyes, concern etched in hers.  “I’d best go find Mr. Clarke.”

Hugh nodded his thanks to the viscountess, and tightened his hold on Susan. When he got his hands on Haywood, he would tear him limb from limb. How could anyone hurt such a sweet girl?

After a moment, Susan pulled away from him and brushed away her straggling tears. “He said I’d be ruined a—and I’d have to marry him.”

Hugh removed his jacket and wrapped it around her arms. It wasn’t much protection, but it was better than nothing.  At least no one could see her ripped bodice any longer. Susan had already informed the baron days earlier that she could not accept his offer, and Hugh knew she was hoping to have one from him instead. Though he’d been unsure how to proceed. He adored her with all of his heart, but to subject her to his family, his father in particular… Well, that he hadn’t wanted to do.

Susan was shaking, and Hugh ‘s heart constricted in his chest. He shook his head. “I won’t let that happen, Susan.” And he couldn’t. He didn’t have much to his name, but he couldn’t let this darling girl end up saddled with that despicable baron for the rest of her days. “Sweetheart, I—I don’t have anything to offer you. Not a title, not lands, not money.” He’d never felt so worthless in his life. She deserved much more than he could ever give her. But she had been compromised, and in his mind he was a better option than Haywood. At least he cared for her. “But I’ll give you my heart and undying devotion.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, Hugh!” she choked back a sob and once again threw her arms around his neck. “That’s all I want.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” came Thomas Clarke’s booming voice from the doorway—his wife, Lord Astwick, and Lady Staveley in his wake. Susan clung more tightly to him, and Hugh swallowed hard, glancing at the girl’s father.

He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. “Thank you, sir.”

“What do you know about tea, Mr. St. Claire?” Thomas asked him, a deep frown on his face.

Hugh gulped. “Tea?”

“Hmm. After you marry my daughter, which by the way should be very soon, you’ll receive a large portion of my companies. I’d like for you to know something about the business.”

“The boy’s got a good head for numbers,” Lord Astwick muttered loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Thomas,” a disheartened Mrs. Clarke whispered. Though it seemed that Mr. Clarke had accepted the circumstances that Susan found herself in, it didn’t appear that his wife shared his optimistic view. “Perhaps you and Mr. St. Claire should discuss the details in private.”

And discuss them they did. Hugh was to acquire a special license at the crack of dawn and then report to Mr. Clarke’s office to start his education of the tea business. Susan and her mother would rent a townhouse in Mayfair, if possible, and they would marry in the late afternoon.

All that remained left to do, was to break the news to his own father. After promising Susan that all would be well, Hugh started for Upper Brook Street. He was not looking forward this interview, but it needed to be done.

He found Lord Albert in the study, deep in his cups—which seemed to be his usual state as of late. Hugh sighed as he assessed the scene. After a moment, he cleared his throat, gaining his father’s attention.

“It’s about time you got back,” the old man barked from his place behind an old elder wood desk.

Hugh ignored his father’s booming voice, straightened his shoulders, and boldly announced, “I have news, father. I’m getting married.”

“What?” Lord Albert’s bloated face scowled in disbelief.

“You heard me. Tomorrow I’ll be a married man, and I—”

“Who is this girl? What are her connections?”

Hugh smiled as thoughts of Susan flitted about in his mind. “She is the daughter of Thomas Clarke, he owns—”

“The tea merchant?” his father nearly spat. Then he shook his head dismissively. “You are supposed to marry your cousin, or have you forgotten?”

His cousin. Juliet, whom he was certain was safely stashed away with her lover. He’d done a fair amount of eavesdropping on Lady Staveley and her friends to discover that Luke Beckford had gone to visit his brother, an earl of some sort, at his Dorset estate. The pieces of the puzzle all fell together nicely—puzzle pieces he was certain his father would never put together. “Father, even if Juliet was here, she would never agree to marry me.”

Lord Albert ran a hand through his thinning hair and narrowed his icy eyes on Hugh. “She won’t have a choice in the matter. You have a duty to this family, and you’re not marrying some merchant’s daughter.”

Hugh snorted. He’d been controlled by this man for all of his days, and marrying Susan would free him. He’d have a new family in the form of the Clarkes. He’d make his own way, learn Thomas Clarke’s trade, and build a new life with Susan. “You don’t really have a say in the matter, father. I simply thought you deserved to know.”

Then he turned on his heels and made his way to his room, for his last night spent in Prestwick House.

~ 25 ~

A routine of sorts was established. Luke would roll out of Juliet’s bed before Peter and Penny entered the schoolroom. Then later in the day he would escort the three of them to the locale for that day’s picnic lunch. Dinner was generally an uncomfortable affair, as it was the only time they had to socialize with Robert and Lydia. But after dinner…well, that was Luke’s favorite part of the day. He’d suffer through port with Robert, and then retire to his room…er, make that Juliet’s room, where he would ravish her most of the night.

It was as if they were living in a sort of dream world—living together, loving each other, but all in secret. However, one secret was bothering Luke more and more. He still didn’t have a clue as to why Juliet was hiding, passing herself off as Miss Mitford, and he was afraid to broach the subject for fear that she’d push him away. And that was the last thing he wanted. So he held his tongue and just hoped that she’d finally open up to him.

Luke found Juliet and her pint-sized charges in the library. They were looking at an old book on pirates—one Luke vaguely remembered from his own childhood. The three of them hadn’t spotted him yet, and he leaned against a mahogany bookcase, watching the light pour in through the window, shining down on his princess.

“He set his beard on fire?” Penny asked, wide-eyed. Luke smiled at the girl. Neither she nor Peter dropped their h’s anymore. They both sounded like proper little children most of the time, and their achievements could all be laid at Juliet’s door. She had lovingly worked with both of the little urchins, and it was clear they adored her.

It was hard to even envision her as The Ice Princess anymore—especially as he knew how warm she really was. He could stay there all day long just gazing at her, but he’d much rather be holding her. “You must be talking about William Teach,” he remarked and stepped away from the bookcase toward the smiling trio.

Penny flew out of her seat and threw her arms around Luke’s leg, just the way Emma always did. “Uncle Luke, Miss Mitford was tellin’ us all about Blackbeard.”

“Ah.” He tweaked her nose. “My favorite pirate.” Then he sank down to his haunches and smiled at the little girl. “Would you like to know a secret, Penny?”

“Oh, yes!” the girl gushed.

“Well, I’ve just come from the kitchen and Cook has made some little lemon cakes. If you’re really good, I’d bet that she would give one to each of you.” He’d barely finished his sentence before both children barreled out the library door. Truly, he couldn’t help but laugh at their eagerness. He would have done the same thing at their age.

When he turned his attention back to Juliet, he found her frowning at him with her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Luke, I am trying to teach them some decorum.”

With a smile, he crossed the room to her side and pulled her into his embrace. “You’re lovely when you’re annoyed. Did you know that?”

“Is that why you always try to annoy me?”

He winked at her. “I just want your attention, princess. You always have mine. I think if my governess had been as lovely as you, I might have learned some decorum.” Juliet toyed with the hair at his collar, which made his temperature and other parts of his anatomy rise. How long would the children be gone?  He was just about to ask her opinion on the matter, but she was frowning again. “What is it, my love?”

Her eyes flashed to his. “Luke, can I truly trust you?”

It bothered him that she even had to ask. He nodded his head. “Juliet, you can tell me anything. You know I’d never betray you in anyway. I love you.”

She smiled and bit her plump bottom lip. “I love you too.”

Finally. Luke breathed a sigh of relief. Hearing the words from her lips lightened his heart. With a grin, he caressed her slender neck. Then he dipped his head and kissed her. Juliet eagerly pressed herself against him, and Luke was lost to her.

He might have kissed her for two minutes or two hours—truly he’d lost track of time. But when they heard a gasp, Juliet bolted from his arms.

Lydia stood in the doorway, a shocked look marring her face. Juliet rushed from the library, without so much as a look behind her.

Blast and damn!

She had been so close to confiding in him, he could feel it. Luke stared after his princess, but was distracted when Lydia took a step toward him, her eyes narrowed to little slits. “How dare you take advantage of that girl in this home?”

How he despised his sister-in-law. She was one to talk about taking advantage of someone. Robert was a giddy fool, all because of this woman. “That girl knows exactly what she’s doing.”

“Yes, well, I remember thinking the same thing where you were concerned.” She pursed her lips together. “Against my better judgment, I let Robert talk me into letting you stay here, but I won’t let you do to that poor girl what you did to me.”

What he did to her! Luke scoffed. Loudly. “I’ve got news for you, Lydia. No one lets Robert do anything. Regardless of whatever hold you have on my brother, I doubt very much that that has changed.”

“Weren’t you only going to be here a few days, Luke? It’s now been weeks. I’m sure your tarts and gambling buddies must be missing you.”

Luke grinned charmingly, but it was all an act—and they both knew it. “Am I to take it that you’ve grown tired of my company?”

“I certainly meant no offense, but—”

“Oh, Lydia, you meant offense, all right. But don’t trouble your pretty little head over it. I’m not going anywhere. Not until I figure out what you’re after. What you’ve done to Robert.”

“What I’ve done to Robert?” She took a hesitant step backward and stared questioningly at him. “I’ve not done anything to your brother.”

She didn’t look quite right. Her face had grown a bit pale. He must have shocked her with his boldness. Perhaps he could use that and get the truth out of her. “Oh, come now, Lydia. You and I both know that you’re not who you pretend to be.”

“Not who I pretend to be?” she echoed with a frown.

“And now after all these years, you and Robert are suddenly in each other’s pocket? Something is going on, Lydia. I intend to find out what it is.”

She took a staggering step backward and shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking ab—”

But she wasn’t able to finish her statement. Instead, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell, cracking her skull against the corner of a bookcase as she collapsed in a heap on the floor. For just a split second, Luke gaped at her in complete shock. Then he rushed to her side and yelled loudly for help.

When he touched her cheek, Lydia’s eyes flickered and she started to rouse, though it was clear she was dizzy and seemed unable to focus on him.

“Sweet Lucifer, Lydia. Are you all right?” Luke whispered in concern. He’d wanted to distract her, get answers from her, but he hadn’t meant to knock her unconscious. Then before he knew what had happened, Lydia’s face took on a mortified expression of either shock or fear—he couldn’t tell which. And then she cast up the contents of her stomach all over his Hessians.

Damn it, those boots were brand new. Realization struck Luke like a bolt of lightning.

Good God! Lydia was pregnant.

All the puzzle pieces fit together now. The little whore was trying to pass off someone else’s bastard as Robert’s child. She must have had to get into the earl’s good graces quickly, so that the fool might actually believe the child was his. Luke’s pulse pounded in his head as anger set in. She was even more devious and deceitful than he’d first thought. But this…this was unconscionable. Robert didn’t deserve this.

“I’m s—so sorry,” Lydia stuttered as she wiped tears away from her eyes. The color slowly began to return to her face. Then she struggled to sit up, but ended up laying her head back down. Gingerly, she touched a bump that was forming on the side of her head.

Luke shook his head, stood, and backed away as if he’d been burned. “You won’t get away with this,” he growled. When Dunsley hurried into the room, Luke stumbled backward and then fled the library in search of his brother.

***

Juliet sat in a corner of the schoolroom with her face in her hands. The children still hadn’t returned from their sojourn to the kitchen, and she cursed herself for being a fool. She and Luke had been playing a dangerous game, a game she should have been too smart to play. And now it was over. Lady Masten had seen them, and she was sure to sack her. Juliet cringed, trying to figure out where she could go. Heading back to London was too risky with Uncle Albert there.

“Did you hear?” came the smug voice of Kistler from the open doorway.

“Hear what?” Juliet responded, her heart dropping. She was certain that the man was there to tell her that news of her indiscretion had reached all levels at Gosling Park.

“Apparently, her ladyship is with child—”

Juliet blinked at the valet. Those certainly weren’t the words she expected to come out of his mouth.

“Mr. Beckford took the news rather hard.”

Why would Luke care one way or the other about Lady Masten’s delicate condition? That didn’t make any sense at all.

Apparently the question was evident on her face, because the valet took pity on her and continued. “I keep forgetting that you’re new and don’t know all the old gossip.”

“Old gossip?” she couldn’t help herself from asking.

Kistler nodded his head and crossed the schoolroom, looking out one of the windows. “Mr. Beckford and Lady Masten were lovers. Well, perhaps they still are. I don’t know why else the rogue would still be in residence here. Dorset is a bit slower than what he’s accustomed to.” Then the valet turned back around and his gaze raked her up and down disparagingly. “He might dally periodically with the staff, but I’d place my wager that the stunning countess is the reason he hasn’t returned to London.”

Juliet’s breath rushed out of her. She couldn’t hold a candle to Lady Masten’s beauty—few could. Was it possible that Luke was her lover?  He could have nearly any woman he wanted. However, the countess seemed so enamored with the earl. Yet something was definitely going on between Lady Masten and Luke. They never met the other’s eyes, and generally acted as if the other wasn’t in the room. Was it all an act, so as to not capture the earl’s notice?

All of Luke’s lies echoed in her mind. He hadn’t really been searching for her, as he’d claimed. He had he come to Gosling Park to continue his affair with his brother’s wife. Juliet had believed every word of it. She’d even believed that he loved her.

Why was she always a fool when it came to that man?

The valet’s smug look angered her to the pit of her soul. Even if his words were true, she wouldn’t give him the reaction he desired. Juliet stood and folded her arms across her middle, leveling Kistler with an icy glare. “I’m certain the earl would be quite put out if he thought you were repeating such malicious things.”

Apparently unmoved, the valet shrugged and started for the door. “I just thought you should know, since you seem to spend a fair amount of time with him.”

Again the conversation Juliet had overheard Mr. Bennett and his brother have about Luke and Lady Masten entered her mind. At the time, the lout had told her that he ‘barely knew’ his sister-in-law. Had he ever told her the truth about anything? She didn’t know what to believe. After a moment, she looked up and realized that Kistler had gone, leaving her all alone.

Juliet found Luke pacing the floor in the golden parlor. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, instantly grabbing his attention. “So are congratulations in order?”

Luke stepped toward her. “Congratulations?”

She wanted to beat him to within an inch of his life.  Just seeing him so virile and handsome, remembering his words of love and devotion made her foolish heart leap. But she’d been a fool long enough. There came a time when a woman had to learn from her past mistakes, and that time had now come for Juliet. “Did you honestly think you could keep it from me? That I wouldn’t find out? Or did you think that because I loved you I would turn a blind eye to it?”

“Princess, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He started to caress her cheek, but she stepped away from him

His brow furrowed and her heart ached. “Are you the father?”

Understanding settled on his face and he shook his head. “You’re not honestly asking me if I fathered my sister-in-law’s child.”

“Did you?” she asked again.

Luke snorted, and glared at her. “When, Juliet, do you imagine I had time to do such a thing? I spend every night in your bed, and every waking hour thinking about how to get you alone.”

He hadn’t really answered her question with a simple yes or no though, had he? And there was nervousness to him, one that she had never noticed in him before. Her heart sank, and she folded her arms across her chest. “Are you denying that you and Lady Masten are lovers?”

“Of course I’m denying it,” he spat out.

“And were you ever?”

His mouth dropped open and then he clamped it shut. The truth was evident on his face. She felt tears prickling, so she blinked her eyes wide, shook her head and started for the door.

“Damn it, Juliet,” he roared from behind her, and she stopped in her tracks. Then he crossed the floor and took her shoulders in his hands. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Relief washed over. She so desperately wanted to believe him. “What am I thinking?”

He stared at her for so long, his emerald eyes boring into hers, that she thought he might never speak. But finally he heaved a sigh and began with a whisper, “It didn’t mean anything. It was years ago.”

Juliet turned away from him, her heart sinking further than she knew it could. “You told me that you barely knew her.”

“And that’s true,” he contended, his voice full of emotion. “She tricked me, and I—”

That sounded like the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “She tricked you? The master seducer? Not a very likely story, Lucas.”

“Believe what you like, Juliet. It’s the truth. She presented herself as an innocent, young thing. But nothing could have been further from the truth.”

Juliet’s mouth went dry. It was years ago, Luke’s voice echoed in her mind. Years? Lady Masten was only her senior by a single year. Thoughts of her flighty sister Felicity and Captain Aaron Pierce flooded her. She’d often wondered what sort of man would take advantage of a young, starry-eyed miss. And now she knew. “How old was she?”

Luke shrugged, though he had the decency to look away from her. “I believe she was sixteen.”

“Sixteen!” she echoed, he voice rising with every syllable. “And she tricked you!”

“She absolutely did,” he roared back. “She wasn’t the innocent maiden she pretended to be. I sure as hell wasn’t going to marry the little tart, even after—”

“Even after what, Lucas?”

He glared at her. “Even after we were caught together.”

Juliet thought she might be sick. She’d always envisioned his lovers as married women, widows, or demi-reps. Until now she’d believed that she had been special—not his usual sort, that there was a sort of magic between them. But apparently debauching virgins was something he did on a regular basis. She was just one of many. “And what if she’d been the innocent you’d thought her to be? Would you have married her then?”

His green eyes darkened to the color of a forest on an angry night, and his silence was answer enough.

“I didn’t think so,” she choked on a sob. “You’re not the man I thought you were. And truly, that man was disgraceful enough. Tell me, did I ever mean anything to you? Or was I just another one of the masses?”

“You mean everything to me. And Lydia, all the others—all of that was before you.”

“Oh? And how many innocent young women have you offered that line to?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Juliet! It’s hardly the same thing,” he growled.

But she’d heard enough. She stomped to the door and threw it open—nearly knocking the earl, who stood just outside, to the ground. “Just stay far away from me, Lucas.”

***

Furious, Luke watched as Juliet storm from the room. She hadn’t even acknowledged Robert’s existence. Robert—who was now glaring at him. “We will discuss this later, Luke.” His brother gestured in the direction that Juliet had fled. Then he started back down the hallway.

Adrenaline pumped through Luke’s veins. He really did need to tell Rob what Lydia was up to. The man deserved to know the truth. He chased after his brother and grabbed his arm, “Actually, Robert, I need to speak with you right now.” Then Luke began to haul his brother back inside the parlor.

Robert shook his head. “Something’s wrong with Lydia. We can discuss your attempts to seduce members of my staff later.” He tried to free himself from his brother’s grasp, but Luke’s hold on his arm only tightened with determination.

“I’m not trying to seduce anyone. And nothing’s wrong with Lydia. She’s simply with child.”

Robert stepped backward, apparently stunned. And then he grinned widely and nodded like a fool. “I must see her.”

“Damn it, Robert!” Luke growled. “You need to hear me out first.” He managed to drag his brother back inside the parlor and firmly shut the door. Then he faced him with a frown. “This is important.”

“Out with it then. I want to see Lydia,” he barked impatiently.

Luke took a deep breath. This had to be done.  His brother had a right to know.  “I don’t want you to be made a fool of by your wife, Robert. She isn’t who she appears to be. She never has been.”

Robert furrowed his brow. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I honestly never wanted to have this conversation with you, Rob. But I can’t keep my mouth closed anymore—not when you’re the one who’ll suffer.”

Robert looked uncertain, and he shook his head. “Can’t this wait, Lucas? I really need to get to my wife.”

Luke harshly rubbed his brow. God, how he hated reliving that night. “Haven’t you ever wondered, Robert, why I fled Staveley’s after Lydia and I were caught together?”

“Actually, no.” Robert frowned. “I just chalked it up to you being you.”

Bloody wonderful!

How nice to know that his brother thought so highly of him. Bitterly, Luke laughed. “Yes, your confidence in me has always been overwhelming. And I’m so bloody tired of everyone always thinking the worst of me.” Then he started pacing. “All these years you thought I’d ruined and abandoned her. But you should know that’s not the way it was, Robert.”

“I don’t know what this is about, Luke, but I don’t think there’s any question about whether or not you ruined Lydia. Staveley found the two of you together. And really, there’s no point in discussing it now.”

But there was a point, and he had to make Robert understand. With a pained smile, Luke continued, “Oh, I bedded Lydia. I’m not denying it. But I didn’t ruin her. Someone before me enjoyed that privilege.” He heaved a sigh. “I wasn’t about to marry her. Why should I be tied to her for the rest of my life, when someone else had ruined her? But then you jumped in there to save me from disgracing the Beckford name and married the little whore in my stead.”

Robert’s jaw tightened and his steely gaze narrowed in on Luke. “You will refrain from speaking ill of my wife. And because you’re my brother, I’m going to pretend like we never had this conversation. And then—”

How had the highly esteemed and ever intimidating Earl of Masten become such a dolt? “Yes, go ahead and live in your dream world, Robert.”

“Leave Gosling Park and don’t come back, Lucas. Not ever,” Robert clipped out as he started once more for the door.

His brother didn’t believe him? As if he would make something like this up! Luke side stepped in front of Robert. “I’m not done.” He squared his shoulders and pressed on. “It was all an act, Rob. She pretended to be an innocent and virginal. I was completely fooled by her. And let’s just say I’m more than a little dubious about the paternity of this child of hers. I think I’ll hold off on my congratulations, Robert, to see who the child looks like first.”

Robert leveled him with a glare, then he brushed past Luke and headed for the door. “It must be hard for you to realize that you won’t be my heir, Lucas, but I’m sure you’ll get used to the idea.”

He thought he was after the earldom? That was the most ridiculous thing Luke had ever heard. He laughed cynically in response. “It’s not my greed that makes me dubious, Robert, but my intimate knowledge of the Lady in question.”

Robert snapped in the blink of an eye. Before Luke knew it, his brother had wrapped his hands around his throat and growled through clenched teeth, “I don’t ever need to be reminded again that you once shared a bed with my wife.”

The room started to spin and Luke thought he might die at his brother’s hands. He pulled at Robert’s fingers and gasped for breath. “Rob!”

Then Robert shoved him out of the way and looked back disdainfully. “You lying bastard, if you’re still here by the time I finish checking on my wife I will kill you.”

And the look in his brother’s eyes told him he meant it.

Luke stormed off to schoolroom. He had been unsuccessful at getting Robert to listen to reason, but he wasn’t ready to give up on Juliet. He threw open the door, only to find his princess speaking quietly to her two charges—both of whom had bit of lemon cake stuck to the corner of their mouths.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Mitford, might I have a word with you?”

She didn’t even look up at him. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Beckford.”

“Good. Then you can listen.” He folded his arms across his chest, and planted himself in front of her. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

Juliet looked at Peter and Penny, with a forced smile. “Why don’t you get out the art supplies?”

Both children happily complied, leaving Juliet to him.

“I’m not perfect,” he began.

Juliet snorted in response.

“Well, you’re not always a ray of sunshine either, you know.” When she narrowed her eyes, Luke stepped closer to her and whispered, “I’m leaving Gosling. I know you’re angry with me, though for the life of me, I don’t know why.”

“Then allow me to explain it to you. You,” she clipped out as she poked him in the chest, “are a silver-tongued devil. You charm your way through life without any thought to anyone else. You are an unrepentant, selfish, self-serving bastard.”

She despised him. That very morning she’d professed her love for him, and now she despised him. And all because of Lydia? All because of a mistake from five years earlier—five years before he’d even involved himself with The Ice Princess. “Is that all?” he asked in a whisper.

“No. I’m glad you’re leaving.”

He nodded curtly and left Gosling Park.

~ 26 ~

Luke was in a daze most of the journey back to London. If he’d been asked which inns he stayed at, how long the trip, or what color the sky was, he’d have been hard-pressed to answer. As awful as he’d felt without Juliet in Yorkshire, this was worse. This was devastating. He couldn’t even visit his sister, as he was certain she would view the recent events in Dorset as him having committed The Cardinal Sin of having hurt Juliet again. Which was ironic, as he felt that he was the one who’d had his heart ripped from his chest.

Upon his return to London, Luke went directly to Ridgemont House. If his time in Dorset had taught him anything, it was that he needed to get his past in order. He was shown into a yellow parlor, and he walked the floor back and forth until the baron entered the room. “Mr. Beckford, you wished an audience?” Ridgemont asked. Though he was an older man, the baron held himself well. He was tall, slender, and grey haired. And, from all accounts, enamored with his wife.

Luke suddenly felt pangs of guilt. You charm your way through life, without any thought to anyone else. You are an unrepentant, selfish, self-serving bastard. He hated that she was right. “Yes, my lord. I’ve come to offer my most humble apologies.”

Ridgemont frowned, but gestured Luke to a seat. “Indeed?”

After a deep sigh, Luke began, “I have been disrespectful of you, and—”

“You’re speaking of Louisa?” the baron surmised.

Luke agreed with an incline of his head.

“And the emerald pendant?” Ridgemont pressed further.

Luke shook his head. “My perfidy only goes so far, my lord. I’ve never been a thief.”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it, Mr. Beckford? I’d imagine that most men don’t willingly hand their wives over to you.”

He’d never thought of that as theft, but now he supposed the old baron had a point. “Touché. And that is why I’ve come, sir. I was a profligate for many years, at the expense of men such as yourself, and I am very sorry for any pain or embarrassment I might have caused you.”

The baron chuckled, and folded his hands in his lap. “Indeed? Do you plan to visit each fellow you’ve cuckolded? If so, I imagine you’ll be a very busy man for some time.”

Sweet Lucifer! This interview was painful enough. He couldn’t even imagine having to do such a thing many times over. Besides someone was bound to thank him with the barrel of their pistol. The very idea sent chills down his spine. He managed to shake his head. “No, sir. But I’ve come, you see, because I wanted to ask for your help.” He’d been threatening Louisa about revealing all to her husband, and with the latest episode with Bow Street, he didn’t feel he had a choice.

The baron stopped chuckling. “I can’t even imagine what else you’d want from me.”

Luke sighed. “My lord, first I want to assure you that I have not taken Lady Ridgemont’s jewelry. I simply want to end my association with her. In fact, our association has been over for quite some time.”

“But she hasn’t wanted to give you up?”

The man didn’t sound surprised, and Luke found himself nodding. “And now that she’s involved Bow Street… Well, sir, I find myself at a loss of what to do.”

“I involved Bow Street, not being aware of Louisa’s duplicity. Once I learned of it, I ended their investigation. And my wife and I have come to an understanding of sorts. However, I would rather you keep your distance, Mr. Beckford.”

He’d be glad to. “Of course.” If only things had gone so well in Dorset.

***

The loss of his brother’s affections was something Luke had never considered, and now that it had happened, he felt completely lost. He began obsessing on the disintegration of his relationship with Robert, because it was much easier to think about than the disintegration of his relationship with Juliet.

Just as Luke filled a glass of whiskey and was prepared to spend another quiet night at home, wallowing in his own self-pity, there was a pounding on his door. “Luke!” came Will’s panicked voice.

He nearly rolled his eyes. What the devil did Will want? And did he always have to sound panicked? Annoyed, Luke opened the door to find Haywood looking like a man possessed. “Thank God! Luke, I’m in trouble.”

What else was new? That was fairly ungenerous, and Luke felt a bit guilty, so he gestured his friend inside. “What’s the problem, Will?”

Will took the glass of whiskey that Luke had in his hand and downed it in one gulp. “I’m desperate, Luke.”

Of course he was. He always was. Luke gestured for Will to take a seat and then poured two more whiskeys from the sideboard decanter.

“I can’t hold off my creditors much longer, and—”

“What about Miss Clarke?” If nothing else, Will was a distraction. Focusing on his friend’s problems was better than thinking about his own. He handed Will one of the glasses and took a seat opposite him. “I thought you were going to make an offer.”

Will frowned and shook his head. “I did, but Hugh St. Claire ended up stealing her from me. Damn his eyes.”

St. Claire? Luke furrowed his own brow. He could go forever without hearing that name.

“And now that bastard is living my life. They married weeks ago. All that time wasted.” Will stared at the amber liquid, as if it magically held whatever answer he was looking for.  “Now the season’s over, as are my chances at finding another heiress at this late date.” Will leapt to his feet. “But you’ve got the Devil’s own luck, Luke. All I’ve got left are my stables and a few hundred quid. But if you’d play for me, well, I just know you’ll win.”

Had he heard his friend correctly? Will wanted to gamble away the last of his meager funds? That was ridiculous. “I beg your pardon?”

Will dropped his whiskey glass to a side table and ran his hand through his black hair. “You’re my last hope, Luke.”

The lad was too reckless. Luke shook his head. “I will not be responsible for you losing all you have left, Will. I can loan you what you need for now, and then we’ll find a way to sort through the rest.”

But Will was frowning. “If you won’t help me, I’ll just handle it on my own.”

Exasperated, Luke sunk back against his seat. He was trying to help his friend. Didn’t he see that? Apparently not, as Will was dead-set on playing Hazard, and Luke just didn’t feel right about letting him go on his own. Who knew what sort of trouble he’d get into?

So they ended up in a gaming hell, a little one off King Street. However, Luke was adamant that he would not play for Will. It was ridiculous to gamble everything he had left.  Besides the baron could quadruple his worth and he still wouldn’t be in a better financial situation.

This was a fool’s errand.

Luke walked around the hell and raised his glass to more than one old friend or ex-lover. This was what his life had come to—spending time around drunken bucks, gambling nabobs, and brazen women.

Again, he felt lost and full of remorse and regret. These sensations were still fairly new for him, and for his part, he wasn’t too keen on any of it. His entire life he’d been an unrepentant, self-serving bastard. Or at least, that was what Juliet thought. Of course, she was right.

Oh, Juliet.

What kind of trouble was she in that she was hiding in Dorset? If he’d been able to stay at Gosling, he could have watched after her, kept her safe, convinced her to love him like she used to. But Lydia had ruined all that.

How he hated his sister-in-law.

Luke downed a good portion of the whiskey in his hands and sank into a seat close enough to the hazard tables so that he could keep Haywood in his sights. He leaned back and glanced around the room. Then he lost himself in one glass after another.

When had his life become this uncomfortable state he now resided in? It really wasn’t all that long ago that he’d been satisfied with his life. Wine, women, and song—why had he ever complained about that? Because it had been a hollow existence.

Perhaps if he’d told Robert the truth about Lydia from the beginning, his brother wouldn’t be married to the little tart. And she wouldn’t now be trying to pass someone else’s bastard off as the next heir to Robert’s earldom.

Poor Robert.

Anyone with eyes could see that gruff earl had actually fallen in love with his scandalous wife, though Luke still found that hard to believe. In truth, he didn’t care about not being Robert’s heir—not really. The stress of the title and obligations… Well, that just wasn’t something Luke had ever wished for. He’d always been happy with his own lot and didn’t want Robert’s life.

Luke drained another whiskey and sank back in his seat with a sigh. What could he do now? He’d tried to warn Robert. He’d tried to tell him the truth. But the bloody love-sick idiot wouldn’t pay him one bit of attention. Damn Lydia Masten to hell. Robert didn’t deserve whatever she had planned for him. And while he was at it, damn himself, as well. It was, after all, his fault that his brother was in this trouble to begin with.

“Lucas?” a soft feminine voice asked at his side.

Luke turned his head and stared up at an old familiar face. Mrs. Cecily Rigsley, Robert’s one time paramour, dropped into the seat next to Luke and she smiled warmly. Now, why hadn’t Robert made things work with her? She was much more his brother’s type—long legs, slender frame, thick brown hair and dark eyes. “Evening, Cecily.”

Cecily reached across her seat and took Luke’s hands in hers. “Why, Lucas, whatever has you so distressed, my dear boy?”

Though Luke usually held his cards fairly close to his vest, he surprised himself when he began to tell her his troubles with Robert. But after all, Cecily probably knew his brother better than he did. She might have a perspective he didn’t. Besides, it felt a bit better to get the pressing weight off his chest, so he held nothing back and told her everything about his brother and Lydia.

Cecily listened with great interest and a consoling ear. “His wife?” she echoed in surprise. “Is that the little flame-haired chit I spied him with at Drury Lane?”

“Flame-haired? I suppose it was.” Luke nodded miserably.

“I wondered who she was. At first I thought perhaps she was Astwick’s light-o-love. But since his mother was present, I figured that wasn’t the case. But for God’s sake, Lucas, I never would have dreamed that slight little girl was Lady Masten.”

“Her looks can be deceiving,” Luke admitted sullenly. He’d learned that first hand.

“And Robert is truly smitten with her?”

Was there a jealous edge to Cecily’s voice? No, of course not. She and Robert had been finished long before Lydia entered the scene. “Blinded is more like it, and it’s all my fault, Cecily.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Robert is a grown man. You can’t be held responsible for his choices.”

“But I know her, Cecily. I know that she’s passing off some lover’s child as Robert’s. I don’t mind being passed over by a legitimate heir, mind you, but it is a bit nauseating to think that some gent’s by-blow will take my place in line.”

“Don’t be so distraught.” Cecily caressed his folded hands, “Perhaps the child is Robert’s, after all. He’s not a fool, your brother.”

Luke held Cecily’s dark gaze. “You’re very kind, Cecily, but I know what I know. Why did Robert ever leave you?”

Cecily frowned and looked down. “Your brother can be a very unforgiving man. I said some things I shouldn’t have when I was a bit foxed. And, well, that was the end.”

Through his alcohol-induced haze, Luke nodded glumly. It was coming back to him now. But slowly. He blinked and tried to remember the exact circumstances. Ah, yes, Cecily had taken up with Lord Audley after some blowup she’d had with Robert at Vauxhall. Audley had been put out over losing a promising bay to Robert on the stocks, and had taken great pleasure in relieving Masten of his mistress as a consolation prize of sorts.

By the time Cecily had realized that Audley had no intention of making their friendship a permanent one, Robert had already washed his hands of her. Yes, her desertion was not something Robert would forgive easily. And really none of it mattered anymore, anyway. His brother was in so deep with Lydia that it made Robert’s days of sparring with Cecily at Vauxhall looked like child’s play. “Thank you for your ear, Cecily. And if it’s any comfort, I think Robert was a fool to let you go.”

“You are such a dear, Lucas.” Her eyes sparkled with delight. Then she stood and happily left him. Luke looked back down into his now empty glass.

An audible “Aw” was heard from the hazard table. His head popped up and he re-focused on Will. Damn. Haywood’s shoulders were slumped forward and head was bent in defeat.

“He’s a fool in many ways,” came a soft male voice, only a few feet away. “I had hoped you weren’t like him.”

Luke turned in his seat and stared at a young man. Even with his eye sight a bit blurred, Luke thought the fellow looked a bit familiar. “I b—beg your pardon,” his voice sounded slurred to his own ears.

***

Hugh sat in a chair across from Mr. Beckford and shook his head. He had not been happy to recognize him enter this establishment. If Luke Beckford was in London, where was Juliet? And was she safe? Hugh shook his head in disgust.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that. You’re making the room spin.”

The man was deep in his cups, and Hugh couldn’t understand what Juliet saw in the lout. He’d been fairly unhappy to learn that Luke was friends with William Haywood, knowing full well what that despicable man was capable of.  “Have you seen my cousin?”

Luke snorted. “I don’t even know who the devil you are.”

“You don’t remember me?”

“Sh—should I?” He opened his eyes wide, apparently trying to focus on Hugh’s face.

“Hugh St. Claire.”

“You s—stole Miss Clarke from Haywood.”

Stole her? Hugh glowered at him. “I won’t discuss my wife with you, but—”

Luke Beckford started to laugh, a pitiful, self-loathing laugh. “God, you sound like my brother. No one ever wants to discuss their wives with me.”

“I want to discuss my cousin with you,” Hugh responded with a steely voice.

“Your c—cousin?” Luke’s head bobbled, while he tried to level it.

“Juliet.”

Suddenly, Luke’s eyes focused on him. “Well, how unfortunate for you, as I won’t discuss her with you or anyone else.”

Hugh was not to be deterred. “Did you see her in Dorset? Is she all right?”

“Are you h—hard of hearing, Mr. St. Claire? Go back to your wife, the one you w—won’t speak of. I have nothing to say to you.”

A rich baritone chuckle boomed nearby, and Hugh turned to Chet standing behind him. The marquess’ soft green eye twinkled. “Of course he’s got nothing to say to you, St. Claire. Beckford only speaks pleasantly to the ladies.”

Luke glowered at Chet. “Bugger off, Astwick.”

Chet laughed heartily again. “Don’t mind him,” he remarked to Hugh, “that’s how he generally greets me. Come along. I’m terribly anxious to partner you in whist. With your mind and my luck, we’ll break any man who is foolish enough to play against us.” Then he winked at Luke. “You look awful. Is this what spending time with Robert does for you?”

Luke responded with only a scowl.

Hugh shook his head. Over the last few weeks he’d come to respect and admire Chet. He was a perennially cheerful and honorable man. It surprised him that the marquess appeared to like Luke Beckford—because from what Hugh had seen thus far, there wasn’t much to like. “You’re friends with him?” he asked before he could stop himself as they neared the card room.

Chet agreed with a nod. “He’s not such a bad fellow. Not really. Known him since he was in leading strings. Masten, his older brother, and I met as boys at Eton. You’ve met my mother. I tried to spend every possible holiday with the Beckford family.”

Hugh frowned. It was still hard to imagine that his persnickety cousin, Juliet, was enthralled with that profligate.

“I heard you ask him about Lady Juliet.”

Hugh’s attention snapped to the marquess. “I had hoped he knew where she was.”

Chet heaved a sigh. “Even if he did, he’s in no condition to tell you. Never, and I mean never, in his life have I seen him this foxed. Luke Beckford is a man who can hold his liquor—he’s had lots of practice, but he won’t even remember speaking to you come morning.”

~ 27 ~

Juliet no longer believed there was anything untoward going on between the countess and Luke. The earl doted on her every waking hour, and Lady Masten reveled in the attention. The two of them were deeply in love. Juliet felt foolish that she’d ever thought otherwise. Though none of that excused Luke’s lies, so she tried not to think about him. Working with Peter and Penny kept her occupied and she, thankfully, didn’t fall back into her earlier melancholy. Work was good.

But now Juliet had something else to worry about.

How could Caroline have neglected to mention that the Carterets were relations to Lady Masten? She had been shocked when two traveling coaches had arrived that day, bringing with it two pillars of London society. Juliet paced around the schoolroom, her heart pounding rapidly. They would most assuredly recognize her, especially Bethany Carteret, as she and Georgie had been fairly close.

So Juliet would have to make herself scarce and never leave the schoolroom—which is precisely what she had been doing ever since Luke left Gosling Park. Fortunately, the earl had been so consumed with the countess’ delicate condition that he hadn’t yet sacked Juliet. She hoped that if she kept to herself, perhaps the Mastens would forget about her little incident in the library with Luke altogether. So far, she’d been fortunate.

But now that the Carterets were here and with their large brood of five children in tow, all of whom spent time dashing about the schoolroom, she wasn’t sure how long her good fortune would last. Keeping up with two children was one thing—seven was something else entirely. And she couldn’t shake the notion that she was always about to bump into their parents. Then her whole ruse would have all been for naught.

Juliet stopped her pacing to stare out the window. From where she stood, she had an excellent view the ocean beneath. It seemed calm, as if it went on forever. Those waters would take her and Edmund away from England to safety. She just wished he was back from India, that they could leave now. Start over.

“We only saw a fellow on a horse.” Penny’s voice, shook Juliet from her reverie.

“Well,” began Morgan McFadyn, the Carteret’s precocious six-year-old son, “we got stopped by a band of highwaymen.”

“A band?” his eight-year-old sister Katriona echoed with a frown. “Honestly, Morgan, you exaggerate more than even Uncle Anthony.”

Morgan thrust out his chin and glowered at his sister. “I’m telling the story, El, and if you don’t want to hear it, you can go somewhere else.” Then he turned back to a wide-eyed Peter and Penny. “Anyway, this band of highwaymen shot their pistols into the air and our traveling coaches stopped so suddenly that Liam fell out of his seat and bit the inside of his cheek.”

Penny touched her tongue inside her own cheek in commiseration, while Peter’s brown eyes grew even wider from the tale.

Liam, the ten-year-old Lord MacFadyn, rolled his own eyes at his younger brother. “Morgan, I don’t think you can even call them highwaymen. They didn’t steal anything from us. They were simply looking for someone.”

Morgan now turned a perfectly putrid shade of red and sputtered, “I’m the one telling the story.”

Looking for someone? Juliet swallowed. In the pit of her stomach she knew those men were looking for her. “Who were they were looking for?”

Liam shrugged. “I’m not sure. Some lady, I expect. They had a miniature and they looked Mama over pretty well. I thought Papa was about to throttle every single one of them.”

“They were looking for Lady Juliet,” replied Katriona authoritatively.

Liam shook his head. “You’ve only heard Mama talking about Lady Juliet’s disappearance at home. Those men didn’t say that name.”

“Well, who else would they be looking for? Besides, Fiona and I rode with Papa, and he caught a glimpse of that miniature. And he says that it looked like Lady Juliet. So, you don’t need to be so smug, Liam. You don’t know everything.”

“No,” Morgan came to his brother’s defense, “that would be you, Katriona.”

When it became apparent that a sibling brawl was imminent, Juliet separated the children to different areas of the room—though Morgan and Katriona continued to shoot daggers from their eyes at each other.

Those men were looking for her. She was trapped. She couldn’t leave Gosling Park for fear of running into Morgan’s highwaymen. And she couldn’t go traipsing across the estate for fear of running into Lord or Lady Carteret.

“Who is Lady Juliet?” Penny asked Katriona and shook Juliet from her reverie.

The older girl smiled. “She’s an heiress who’s gone missing. All of London is talking about her.”

Peter tugged on Juliet’s arm. “Isn’t your name Juliet?”

She sucked in a surprised breath and managed to shake her head. “Julia.”

Penny furrowed her brow. “But Uncle Luke always called you Juliet.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, you must have misheard him.”

***

Less than a fortnight later, the Carterets took their leave, and how Juliet had managed to go undiscovered for all that time could only be considered a miracle. When their traveling coaches rambled down the path, she took her first sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, that relief didn’t last long.

The next day as Juliet and the children were returning to the castle after a jaunt down to the seashore, a sound sent Juliet’s spirits plummeting. A booming laugh—and only one man sounded like that. The Marquess of Astwick.  “Dunsley,” he bellowed good naturedly, “you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She stopped in her tracks.

Astwick would recognize her in an instant.

“Miss Mitford, are you all right?” Peter asked at her side.

“You don’t look right,” Penny agreed.

She forced a smile to her lips. “Actually, I’m not feeling particularly well. Do go on without me. Lady Masten is awaiting you in the green salon.”

“I don’t know.” Peter frowned.

Juliet ruffled the boy’s hair. He really was a sweet lad, and she could no easier imagine the child as a cutpurse than she could Edmund. “I’ll meet you both in the schoolroom later. Do go on.”

After a brief hesitation, Peter took Penny’s hand in his and started for the side entrance that led through the kitchens. Most likely the two of them would charm Cook into giving them something sweet before they reached Lady Masten. Juliet slunk into the shadows of a hedge, all the while keeping an eye on Astwick.

“Masten’s at his stables, no doubt,” the marquess remarked.

“Indeed, my lord,” the butler responded. “And Lady Masten is in the green salon.”

Astwick frowned slightly at that. “Very well, Dunsley.” He started to follow the butler inside the main door. “Tell me, have you heard about these highwaymen that are plaguing Dorset?”

The door shut firmly, and Juliet blew out an anxious breath. What did Astwick know about the highway men?  She left her spot and crept up to the front door, opening it just a hair so she could hear.

“I have heard they’ve been stopping coaches with family crests,” she heard the butler remark.

“Aye,” Astwick continued, “that’s what the innkeeper said too. I thought it was all hogwash, but lo and behold if I didn’t get stopped myself.”

“Indeed, sir?” Dunsley asked. “And they didn’t rob you?”

“Strangest thing,” Astwick agreed before they turned down a hallway and she couldn’t hear them anymore.

Juliet pulled the door open and tiptoed inside, thinking she could catch up to the pair. Then she rounded the corner and ran directly into Astwick’s chest. She sucked in a gasp and didn’t dare to look up. “Please forgive me, my lord,” she mumbled and backed away, running down the hallway.

That was too close! It was time to seclude herself back in the schoolroom.

***

Chet watched the disappearing form of the servant race down the hallway. Huh. She seemed familiar somehow. “Who was that?” he asked the butler.

Dunsley frowned, his eyes also having followed the woman. “The children’s governess, Miss Mitford.”

Governess? Chet scratched his head. That didn’t seem right. She had an air about her, but not one of a servant. But oftentimes, governesses were high-born women who’d fallen on bad luck. Still, there was something about her.

Of course it would be only too easy to focus on Robert’s governess. That would mean Chet wouldn’t have to think about the reason for this little sojourn—the malicious rumors about Lady Masten that were all over Town. Chet didn’t relish telling Robert the news. His friend had a bit of a temper, but still, it had to be done, and he was Rob’s best friend. So, it was up to him.

***

Juliet flew through the door to the schoolroom and then into her own small room and sank to the floor in a heap. Her time was ticking. Astwick had recognized her, she was certain. She waited, barely breathing, for a summons from the countess or the earl demanding answers.

She waited for what seemed an eternity. But no one came for her. Not until Peter and Penny finally returned to the schoolroom and announced that Lord Masten had gone to London with his friend.

Juliet certainly hadn’t expected that.

The next day was Wednesday, her day off, and she decided to put her time to good use. When Edmund returned and they set sail for Boston, they would need a place to stay. So she took out a quill and wrote to her sister.

My dearest Felicity,

I hope this letter finds you well. You cannot imagine how much I miss you, and would love to see your cheerful smile again. To that end, I would like to ask for your assistance. Edmund and I will be coming to visit you in Massachusetts for an extended period of time. Please find us suitable lodgings, something that befits a duke. I will be happy to take care of all payments upon our arrival. It will be truly lovely to see you again, my dear sister. You are always in my thoughts, and we have so much to discuss.

Your loving and devoted sister,

Juliet

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Felicity about Georgie or the circumstances she currently found herself in. Not in a letter. That was something that would need to be done in person.

In Boston.

Before she knew it, Juliet found herself in the library, combing through Lord Masten’s old books. Surely he had something on America. Though Felicity had always been enthralled with the subject, Juliet hadn’t ever been interested. But now that she and Edmund were destined to start life over there, Juliet decided it was time to learn something about the place. She’d only ever thought of it as a wilderness filled with savages. Hopefully there was more to it than that.

“Miss Mitford.” Lady Masten’s panicked voice entered her thoughts. Then she rushed to where Juliet stood near one of the bookcases.

For a moment, Juliet thought her heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Why did the countess have to find her here of all places? Certainly it would strike her memory about Luke. But the countess looked anguished, and she clutched Juliet’s hand tightly. “Thank heavens you’re here.”

“Is something wrong, my lady?”

The countess pursed her lips and shook her head, more rapidly than with her normal grace. “No, but the children—”

“Has something happened to the children?” The look on the Lady Masten’s face sent chills straight to Juliet’s core.

“It is very important that you never leave them alone, Miss Mitford.” Then she sighed. “In fact, would you mind if we moved your bed into the nursery for the next little while so that you can stay with them at night too?”

Stay with them at night too? Juliet was certain the countess had lost her mind. “Sleep with the children as well, my lady?”

“I’m not feeling my best, Miss Mitford.” She went on to explain, “And with Masten gone I’m afraid that if something happened to either Peter or Penny that I couldn’t reach them in time.”

Juliet frowned in response. Really, this wasn’t like the countess at all. “I’m just down the hall as it is, Lady Masten.”

“Please, Miss Mitford, don’t ask me to explain.”

Juliet agreed, of course. She couldn’t risk refusing the countess’ bizarre request. She was on thin ice as it was. However, it then took Juliet no time at all to discover the source of Lady Masten’s discomfort. Her brother, Naval Lieutenant Henry Warner, had arrived at Gosling Park. Though he was tall, tanned, and handsome, there was something sinister about the Lieutenant, as if he possessed a dark soul beneath a charming façade. A dark soul that reminded Juliet of her uncle, which was reason enough to keep the children away from him.

Lord Masten had chosen a fine time to go off gallivanting to London. Did all Beckford men leave when they were needed most?

~ 28 ~

Luke hadn’t slept well. The ugly rumors going around Town had kept him up for half the night, and all previous nights. He could shoot himself for confiding in Cecily Rigsley, but he could shoot her for twisting his words. Thank God he hadn’t mentioned Juliet that night. She’d be ruined if the ton knew she was masquerading as a governess.

Juliet.

Trying to sleep was painful, as he saw her face in his mind whenever he closed his eyes to rest. Her pretty, pink lips quirked up in a knowing grin. Her big, brown eyes twinkling happily. He’d had it all, everything he’d desired in life, and he’d somehow let it slip away from him.

He shaved and dressed, though he had no place to go, no one to see—but it was better than lying in bed and visualizing Juliet next to him.

Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on his door, and Luke was snapped back from his reverie. Surprised to have a visitor this early in the morning, he strode toward the door. The pounding increased in both intensity and force as he neared it.

“Lucas! Open the bloody door!” bellowed Robert’s voice.

What the devil was Robert doing in London? Luke wrenched open the door and his heart seized when he saw his brother’s anguished face. “Robert?” Then reality sunk in. The rumors had reached Dorset. “Oh, God, you’ve heard.” His eyes dropped to the floor.

Robert roared into the room, pushing Luke’s chest with both hands. “I should kill you on the spot.”

Actually, Luke would welcome Robert putting him out of his misery. He nodded his head in agreement. “Aye, you probably should.”

Robert held Luke’s jacket in his clutches and he growled with an intense fury, “How could you do this to me? How could you maliciously destroy my wife like that?”

Still Luke couldn’t meet his eyes and refused to fight back. His brother was well within his rights to properly thrash him, and Luke wouldn’t blame him one bit. “I have no excuse, Robert. I was deep in my cups, but I shouldn’t have talked to Cecily.”

“Cecily?” Robert spit out, while his eyes flashed with surprise. “What does she have to do with this?”

When Robert released his hold on his lapels, Luke slid noiselessly into the seat beneath him and dropped his head into his hands with a shrug.  “I don’t really know. Though I’m certain she’s the only one I said anything to. But, honestly, Rob, she seemed so concerned.”

“Why would you tell Cecily Rigsley that you got my wife with child?” Robert demanded coldly, bloodlust still in his eyes.

Luke snorted and his head shot up. “I never said that! At least I don’t think I did. I can’t imagine saying such a thing. Honestly, Rob, I don’t know who the father is, but I know for certain it’s not me. If that’s what this is about.”

Robert balled up his fist and spoke through clinched teeth. Luke had never seen him so furious. “Let me make myself very clear to you, Lucas. That is my child. Mine. I sired it.”

How could his intelligent brother be so blind to his wife’s nature? It really was pitiful. “Robert,” he replied wearily, “I know you think so, but—”

Before Luke knew what had happened, Robert lifted him from his seat by his jacket and thrust him against the nearest wall. Hatred blazed in his brother’s eyes. Luke had never been frightened of Robert—not until this very moment.

“I don’t just think so,” his brother bit out forcefully, banging Luke’s head as he spoke. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life. Do you hear me?”

There was no point in arguing with the fool, so Luke nodded, though he cast sympathetic eyes on his brother. Robert loved his wife and that kept him from seeing the truth about her. It was quite sad, really.

Finally, Robert dropped him back to the ground with a thud. Then he explained to Luke, in no uncertain terms, that he would help him set things to rights.

It didn’t really matter if Luke believed Robert’s assertions or not about the paternity of the child. His brother believed the child was his, and the situation was something Luke would just have to come to terms with. Besides, he’d caused this little problem, and he’d do whatever Robert asked of him.

***

A plan was called into action, with Caroline as the architect. After all, who knew better than their sister how to manipulate society to her whims? She was like a field general, directing movement on all fronts. Everyone had a job to perform and a role to play.  Luke and Robert were to be seen everywhere together. Astwick and Staveley took the gentlemen’s social clubs. Caroline was responsible for young matrons, by far the most vicious of harpies. Somehow she’d even roped the widowed Lady Astwick into taking care of the older, most influential members of the ton, though how Caroline managed that Luke had no idea. All groups had a common goal: protect Robert’s small family at all costs.

The costs were to all be paid by Luke, in one form or another.

He accepted his fate with a grudging smile. There was nothing to be done about it. However it did bother him that Caroline could barely look at him. Apparently, she and Juliet were corresponding, and while his sister seemed overwhelmingly concerned with his princess, she didn’t seem to be concerned about him at all. He’d tried to talk to her once, but she leveled him with a stony gaze before turning her back on him completely.

So he focused, instead, on the job at hand.

Since Robert’s unforgiving nature was legendary, they could use that to their advantage. No one would believe that the Earl of Masten would go about Town with the man who cuckolded him, brother or not, and everyone knew it. Therefore, over the next few days, Robert and Luke were seen everywhere together: the theatre, Astley’s Amphitheatre, and at one club or another along St. James.

Luke hadn’t remembered ever spending so much time with his brother, not since they were children. As different as they were, he was surprised to realize that he actually liked Robert and respected him. When they’d been in Dorset, his brother had refused to even discuss Lydia with him, but now the floodgates were open. And as they grew closer, Robert began to confide in Luke—something that had never happened in the past, even before Lydia had entered their lives.

Robert had explained how he’d encountered Lydia earlier in the season at Caroline’s ball; how he’d been enthralled with her and had bullied his way into her life; how he’d begged her to give him a child; how he’d fallen madly in love with his own wife. The whole thing was a surprising tale to be sure, and Luke found himself wanting to confide in Robert as well—but he had promised Juliet not to reveal her identity.

However, one night, in Robert’s coach, after they’d sat through a rather painful musicale featuring the talents of their cousin Olivia, Luke gathered up his courage and launched into the crux of his problem with Juliet. “Robert, I’ve done something terrible.”

Robert sat forward, worry lines marking his face. “What have you done now?”

Luke gulped. “I’m afraid I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life, and I haven’t a clue how to fix it.”

“What kind of mistake?” Robert asked warily.

“When did you know that you loved Lydia?”

“You should know by now that I’m a very jealous man, Lucas.”

Luke couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not in love with Lydia. It was just a question.”

Robert seemed to relax a bit. “I’m not sure. I wanted her, lusted after her. I suppose I loved her before I realized it—if that makes any sense. I wanted to make her happy, to see her smile at me, to earn her trust. Then one day I woke up with the most beautiful woman in my arms and the world felt right.”

The world felt right. That was a feeling Luke had known, and he’d lost it all. “I envy you, Rob. I’ve lost the woman I love, and I’d give anything to have her back.”

Robert’s eyes took on a compassionate tint. “Who is she married to?”

A laugh escaped Luke’s throat. Robert always did cut to the chase, even while he tried to be supportive. “She’s not married to anyone, and never plans to be—least of all to me.”

“Who is she?” Robert asked quietly, as the coach turned a sharp corner.

“Lady Juliet St. Claire.”

Robert frowned into the darkness. “St. Claire? St. Claire? The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Her younger brother is the Duke of Prestwick.”

“Prestwick?” Robert’s frown deepened. “Isn’t that Caroline’s friend? The one she went to finishing school with? Oh, Lucas, I’m so sorry. She’s passed away, hasn’t she?”

Georgie. Robert thought he meant Georgie. He shook his head sadly, “No, Lady Teynham was Juliet’s older sister. She’s the one who has passed.”

Even in the darkened coach, Luke felt Robert’s eyes narrow, assessing him. “Lady Teynham? Isn’t that Miss Mitford’s previous employer?”

“Yes,” Luke answered truthfully. Technically speaking the Miss Mitford that was somewhere in India had been Georgie’s previous employee.

“I see,” Robert replied, and Luke was afraid that perhaps Robert did see more than he’d meant for him to. But his brother urged him on with a supportive smile. “So, this Lady Juliet doesn’t care for you?”

Luke leaned back against the squabs and shrugged with a frown. “I don’t know anymore. She did love me once. God, Rob, it scared the hell out of me, and I ran as far away as I could. But in doing so, I realized how much I loved her. So, I returned home, prepared to fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness—only to find her gone, and I was devastated. Then I stumbled upon her in…er, a very unlikely place. And I would have stayed forever, but she doesn’t want to me. She finds me to be a self-serving bastard—her exact words.”

“You truly love her,” Robert remarked. It wasn’t a question.

“More than I ever thought possible.”

“When all this is over, why don’t you come back to Gosling Park? We’ll sort something out.”

Luke’s eyes flashed to Robert’s. Had he revealed too much? Had his brother figured out what he hadn’t said? Luke didn’t ask, as that would certainly give Juliet away, but he nodded thankfully. In the very least, the ban from Gosling Park had been lifted. That was something.

***

Caroline’s role took a different tack to battle the rumors about Lydia. She began by confiding an awful secret to Lady Tatton, a notorious gossip. With teary eyes and a shaky voice, Caroline fretted over how sad it was that her brother Lucas would never be a father. This was why poor Luke had never married—he’d been diagnosed as sterile by old Doctor Grant back in Dorset when he was just a boy. Terrible riding accident.

Caroline then shook her head sadly when she relayed the same devastating tale to Lady Pennington. Luke had always been such a warm and loving uncle to her three children, and though she was certain he was happy for Robert’s good fortune, he was slightly jealous as well. Lady Pennington had frowned at hearing the story. “Dear me, I never would have guessed such a thing. He seems like such a young, virile lad.”

But it was finally after Caroline retold the sad tale to her old friend Louisa Ridgemont that news flew all over town like wildfire. Hell hath no fury, and all of that. Louisa was only too happy to spread the tale of Luke’s sterility to anyone and everyone that would listen.

***

Finally the rumors had abated, and Luke was a laughing stock. In the gold parlor of his brother’s London home, he sat with his head in his hands. He was ruined. There simply wasn’t another way to describe what had been done to him. And his siblings were standing in the corner congratulating each other on his premature demise.

“I just don’t understand why it was necessary to unman me in such a fashion.” Luke complained. Truly, wasn’t there a better way? Something that wouldn’t cause him embarrassment the rest of his life?

“Because—” Caroline turned her back on Robert to face him, and explained for what must now have been the hundredth time— “it made sense, darling. How could you father Robert’s child if you’re sterile. Besides for all I know you actually suffer from the ailment.”

“Caro!” he exclaimed in shock. He couldn’t believe that she would even utter such a thing.

“Well, honestly, Lucas, it’s not as if you’ve been discriminatory over the years. And you have no bastards running around that I’m aware of.”

Perhaps not yet. But there was the possibility that Juliet currently carried his child. Not that he could admit such a thing. “I’m careful is all. And my little sister is the last bloody person I want to discuss this with.”

Robert’s chuckled from his spot the corner of the room. “I thank you, once again, for sacrificing your blackened reputation to protect my child, Lucas. Now, I need to run one last errand before I start back for Gosling Park. I trust you can both show yourselves out.”

Then Robert strode out the doors with more bounce to his step than he’d had in a long time, maybe ever. Lydia had done that for him. Luke realized that now. Making her happy, protecting her, gave Robert a purpose he hadn’t had before. And he truly did want his brother to be happy.

Luke realize that Caroline was still staring at him, so he straightened up and looked his sister in the eyes. She’d avoided all talk of Juliet up until now by glowering at him whenever he mentioned her name. But now that all this business with Lydia was over, he was determined to get some information out of his sister in regards to his princess. “And what will happen when I do marry someday and have a child of my own? What will people say then?”

“Oh? And have you a candidate in mind?” Then she smiled sweetly, too sweetly, and swept toward him. “Dare I hope that some woman has finally convinced you to reform your dastardly ways?”

Luke simply frowned at her. “Caroline, I’ve not yet said anything to Robert, but would you care to tell me why you’ve installed Juliet as Gosling Park’s governess?”

Caroline pursed her lips, scowled, and turned away from him. “She swore me to secrecy.”

“Come now, Caro,” he edged toward her like a stalking lion. “You’ll have to do better than that. After all, you sent me there to find her.”

She thrust out her chest and stared him bravely in the eye. “Actually, I’m quite put out with you over the entire situation, Lucas. How could you have just left her there like that?”

He wasn’t about to be dissuaded by his sister’s evasive tactics. He wanted questions answered, and he wanted them answered now. It was well past time. “What is she doing hiding at Gosling Park, Caroline?”

His sister sighed and pursed her lips. “Why do you want to know?”

Because she won’t tell me. Because I’m worried about her. Because I love her. “Idle curiosity.”

“Come now, Lucas,” she retorted mockingly. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Damn you, Caroline. You set this entire thing up. You sent me there. Then you sent her there. ”

Caroline glowered at him and thumped him hard in the chest. “I was trying to save both of you, you ungrateful sod! If Juliet had had her way, she would have hid out near London, waited for Carraway to return with Edmund, and then vanished somewhere you’d never find her. So, yes, I sent both of you to Gosling Park. She’s in trouble and she’s all alone. And you—you bastard—left her there. You were supposed to save her. It’s really not that bloody difficult to figure out.”

Luke could only gape at his sister. She thought this should have been easy to figure out? “How exactly is she in trouble?”

With an intense glare, Caroline folded her arms across her chest, and then told him the most awful tale he’d ever heard. Juliet’s uncle had tried to kill her? But had mistakenly murdered Georgie instead? That even now, she planned to snatch Edmund up and run off to America. And all without breathing a word of any of it to him. If she got her way, he’d never see her again.

That he couldn’t bear. It was one thing knowing that she was alive and well, playing governess in Dorset, but quite another to have no idea where she was, if she was safe, if she bore his child.

She needed him whether she knew it or not. She needed him whether she was too proud to admit it or not. She needed him. And he needed her.

He had to get to Gosling Park. He leapt from his seat, glowering at his sister. “You should have told me.”

“She didn’t want you to know.  And honestly, Lucas, I thought once she saw you, she’d tell you herself.”

“Ah, well, she and I will discuss that. You can bloody well count on it.” He started for the door.

“Luke!” Caroline chased after him. “What are you going to do?”

What he should have done months ago. Juliet wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d done the right thing from the beginning. But he still had time to make things right, or mostly right. He turned to see his sister’s anguished face. “I’m going to marry her.”

Caroline’s hazel eyes grew wide, and then her face broke out into a wide smile—the first one he’d seen in a while that was directed at him. “Wonderful. Staveley can help you get a special license. I’ll have Mrs. Herbert pack the children’s things. Oh, and I must get Robert a real governess. He’ll probably want my head for this whole thing.” She started walking toward the door.

Luke stared at her in complete shock. “Why are you packing the children’s things?”

“Because we’re going with you,” she replied airily as she started to push past him, but stopped. “The children adore you, and they are quite fond of Juliet. Besides, I haven’t been able to check in on Lydia in her condition, and—”she winked at him and cupped his jaw— “You don’t honestly think I’d miss your wedding do you? I’ve been hoping for such a thing for more than a decade.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at her. He was going to marry Juliet. A giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t wait to see her. She hadn’t been very happy with him when he’d left, but they belonged to each other. Surely, she realized that in his absence.

“Oh, elephant tusks, by the way.” Caroline’s words snapped him out of his thoughts.

What the devil was she talking about now?  He really should pay more attention when his sister spoke. Who knew what he missed on a regular basis. “Elephant tusks?”

Her golden brown curls bobbed up and down as she nodded her head. “For your little ailment.” She gestured toward his groin.

His smile long gone, Luke frowned at his sister. “I don’t have a little ailment,” he ground out.

“Well, I suppose that remains to be seen. If you do have an ailment you can use it. And if you don’t, you can say you did—I want nieces and nephews, darling, and after the tales I flooded Town with, we’d better have an answer for why you and Juliet are able to—”

Luke raked a hand through his hair. Caroline never ceased to amaze him. The things that came out of her mouth! Perhaps shocking her would get her to drop the subject all together. “Elephant tusks sounds like an aphrodisiac.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head authoritatively. “Darling, you’re thinking of rhinoceros horns.”

Well, that tack hadn’t worked, and he simply gaped at her. “I can’t even imagine how you would know that.” And truly he didn’t want to know.

“Well, darling—”

Damn it, she was going to tell him anyway.

“After news of your condition swept Town, I’ve had the most interesting conversations, with the most interesting people. I’ve also heard that drinking cinnamon water could work, or bathing in icy water, but none of that sounds quite exotic enough.”

~ 29 ~

Gosling had been in turmoil ever since the accidental shooting death of Lady Masten’s brother Lieutenant Warner. Everyone quietly went about their chores as normal, though they definitely walked around on egg shells. A story had been relayed to the staff about the incident. Upon returning from London, Lord Masten had apparently gone to his chambers with Lieutenant Warner to look at the old earl’s collection of dueling pistols. One of the weapons had been loaded, unbeknownst to the two gentlemen, and had discharged, hitting the lieutenant in the chest.

Juliet didn’t believe that drivel, and she’d be surprised if anyone else did either. They’d all seen how Lady Masten had become skittish in her brother’s presence, how frightened she’d seemed of him. Juliet herself had moved into the children’s room, playing the role of sentry at night.

The earl hadn’t been home ten minutes before he put a ball in his brother-in-law’s chest. Something else most assuredly had happened. But it was none of her concern, so Juliet said nothing and neither did anyone else.

Doctor Grant, a kindly old country physician, had insisted that Lady Masten stay abed until he rescinded the order, and the earl had vowed that she would do so. In convincing his wife, Lord Masten had promised that Peter and Penny could spend their afternoons with the countess in her chambers. This gave Juliet more time alone—time she could spend researching and working on her plans.

She was surprised one afternoon when she received a summons from the earl, and she quickly went to meet him in his study. Lord Masten looked tired. His normally perfect hair was in disarray, as if he’d raked his hands through it a million times, and his brown eyes looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink since the death of his brother-in-law. “Sit,” he commanded, then softened his tone and added, “please.”

Juliet found a seat in front of his desk and sat. She waited for him to speak, but he simply stared at her for the longest time. Finally she cleared her throat and asked, “You wished to see me, Lord Masten?”

He nodded his head. “Yes, Miss Mitford. Or should I call you Lady Juliet?”

Juliet’s lungs seized, and her eyes grew wide in alarm. How had he found out? And what would he do with her? Try to send her back to Uncle Albert? The walls started to spin in her vision.

Quickly, he came around his desk and placed a consoling hand on her back. “Breathe, my dear.”

She took a breath, then another, until she started to feel that her pulse had returned to a more normal pace. “How did…” she began, but she couldn’t finish the question

The earl, who was usually so stoic, smiled warmly at her. “Figure it out? I have deductive reasoning skills that apparently neither of my siblings attribute me with possessing.” He took another long look at her, as if to make sure she wasn’t going to faint, then he sat on the edge of his desk, arms folded across his chest. “I can’t imagine what sort of trouble you must be in, my dear, to try to hide yourself in my employ. But you are safe here. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

Juliet closed her eyes in relief, though she still couldn’t find words to speak to the man.

“Tell me this, Miss—Lady Juliet, this trouble that you’re in—it doesn’t have anything to do with Lucas, does it?”

He seemed prepared to hear the worst about his brother, and Juliet almost cried. “No,” she responded hastily and shook her head.

With a relieved smile, the earl dropped into his seat. “Thank God.” Then he re-focused his eyes on her. “I won’t ask you any questions, my lady, and interfering—”

“Juliet, please,” she offered meekly. After everything, it seemed silly to be so formal at this point.

He nodded appreciatively. “Interfering in other’s lives isn’t something I do, Juliet. That’s my sister’s forte. I’ll respect your privacy, and you can stay as long as you need. Actually, I think my brother would shoot me if I let anything happen to you.”

Probably not the best choice of words considering the fact that she was certain the earl had recently shot his brother-in-law on purpose, but Juliet was struck by the sincerity of his voice and her heart swelled. “I’m certain Lucas hasn’t given me a second thought, my lord.”

“Robert,” he replied with a wink. “And again, I’m not normally the interfering sort. However, I would love to know what it is about you that has made my brother re-examine his life, my dear. I don’t know what Luke has done to make you push him away—I’m certain I don’t want to know—but whatever it is, he does seem lost without you. I’ve known my brother since he was born, and the last week I spent with him in London, he was a changed man—remorseful, sullen. I’ve given him permission to return to Gosling, and I imagine he’ll soon come to see you—though he didn’t tell me that. I just thought you should know.”

What did that mean? Would Luke return for her? Her silly heart leapt at the thought. If Lord Masten seemed willing to forgive the indiscretion with his own wife, couldn’t she do the same? Luke had lied to her, and she hated that, but—she wouldn’t think about buts. Luke wasn’t here, and she highly doubted that he would return, despite his brother’s words. After all, she hadn’t been terribly kind in her dismissal.

“Thank you.” She smiled at the earl.

“I don’t know how you want to handle this, Juliet. I feel awkward having you act as governess to my children, but I’ll go along with whatever you want. And truly, you have worked a miracle with them.”

Juliet felt tears threaten, but she pushed them away. It was silly to be emotional over this. However, Lord Masten—Robert—was much more kind than she had given him credit for. She shook her head. “I’ll stay on for now, if you don’t mind. I think Peter and Penny would be very confused. But when I receive word that my brother has returned from India, I’ll have to leave without any sort of notice.”

She was relieved that he hadn’t asked anymore about Luke. She didn’t want to talk about him or think about him, though that was easier wished for than done.

“Whatever you want, my dear. I will need to tell my wife, however. After everything we’ve been through, keeping secrets from each other is not something either of us is comfortable with any longer. Lydia and I will both be here if you need us.”

***

Traveling with his sister and her family was enough to drive Luke stark-raving mad. They’d gotten a late start, as acquiring the license had taken a bit longer than Luke had expected, and that had given Caroline ample time to make arrangements. Luke wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but the word terrified him.

In the coach, there was incessant chattering, temper tantrums, and pouting—and that was all Caroline. Luckily, the children rode in a separate coach with two governesses—their own and a replacement one for Gosling Park. Unfortunately, Staveley rode in his coach. And while the old stick didn’t annoy Luke as much as he once did, it was a bit unnerving that his brother-in-law smirked at him the entire way, as if there was some joke and Luke was the punch line.

“I say, Staveley, wipe off that silly grin, will you?”

Staveley complied, but his eyes still twinkled. “Do you remember what you said at our wedding?” He gestured to himself and Caroline.

Luke wasn’t much in the mood for playing guessing games, and he scowled at his brother-in-law. “I’m sure I said a great number of things.”

Staveley chuckled. “You said that it would be a cold day in hell before you got leg-shackled.”

Luke shrugged. That was a lifetime ago, and he’d been very foolish in those days. Suddenly, shots rang out in the distance. Then the disembodied voices of men ordering their coach to stop. The driver complied almost immediately. Then without warning, the coach door was wrenched open. “Everybody out,” growled a huge, hulking man.

Caroline screamed in surprise.

The highwayman, dressed in dark clothing narrowed his black eyes on the trio. “If ye do wot I say, ye’ll not be ‘urt.”

Staveley laid a consoling hand on his wife’s back. “Don’t be afraid, my dear. Carteret said the same thing happened to them around this area, but they were soon back on the road and no one was injured.”

Luke was the first to step out of the coach, and he surveyed the group. Three burly men, unshaved and odiferous, loomed over him. This same thing had happened to Carteret? It was then that Caroline and Staveley crawled from the coach and Luke realized that the three men were paying particular attention to his sister. The first man had something cupped in his hand. Then he glanced up at Caroline and back to his palm, as if comparing her to whatever he held.

“What the devil is going on?” Luke demanded.

“Sam,” one of the other men said as he pointed off in the distance. “‘ere comes ‘nother un.”

Luke looked over his shoulder and saw the second Staveley coach barreling toward them—the coach that carried his nieces and nephew, and his temper snapped.  Those children would not be subjected to this treatment. The leader—Sam—was easily twice his size, but that thought didn’t even enter his mind as he turned, stalked up to the giant, and knocked the coveted item from his hand. “I asked what the devil you were after.”

The giant leered down at him. “Pick that up.”

Luke glanced down at the ground and for the first time, could see the item the man had held. A miniature? He frowned and did as the giant asked—not because he’d been ordered to, but because he was curious.

Juliet. Her young face stared back at him. There was no mistaking her image, though she was much younger when this had been painted. Anger coursed through his veins. What did these brutes want with his princess?

He glared at the giant and dropped the trinket into his coat pocket. “Where did you get this?”

***

As Juliet left the Masten library and headed for her room, she had an entire ledger full of information on America—Massachusetts in particular. She was starting to feel more secure with her plans. She could do this. She could make it on her own.

The schoolroom was quiet when she entered. Peter was spending the rest of the afternoon in the stables and Penny was sitting with Lady Masten in her chambers. She smiled when she thought of the children. She would miss them, but she was anxious for Edmund to return.

She turned the corner into her darkened room, and before she knew it, strong arms had enveloped her and she was being kissed, passionately. She knew those arms. She knew those lips.

Luke!

He had come back! And though she had pushed him away and acted as if she didn’t want him, she couldn’t have been more elated.

Juliet returned his kiss, she couldn’t help herself. She had missed him, and being back in his arms was so heavenly, she didn’t want to ever leave. He pulled her even more tightly against him and deepened his kiss. For a moment she thought he might swallow her whole, but if he did, she’d die happy.

Slowly, Luke raised his head. Juliet’s eyes had now adjusted enough for her to see that he was frowning down at her. And she took a surprised step backward. Really, that wasn’t the look she expected.

“I should take you over my knee and spank you.” His finger was pointed at her nose.

She blinked up at him. What was he talking about? And how dare he say such a thing to her. “Spank me?”

“Yes.” His lips flattened into a straight line. “Spank you until my arm falls off. You and Caroline both for that matter. What were you thinking with all of this?” He waved his arm around the room.

“Honestly, Luke, I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about.”

He lowered his head again and whispered across her lips. “But I’m so relieved to see you. I think I’ll spank you later.”

Then he was kissing her again. Juliet should have stepped away from him. She knew better than anyone how dangerous his kisses were. But instead, she pressed herself against him and kissed him back with everything she was worth. She had missed him so desperately and, despite everything, she still loved him with all her heart.

He finally eased away from her and caressed her neck with the pad of his thumb and her heart raced from his touch, like it always did.

Then he spoke softly, and with more warmth than she could ever remember hearing from him. “You should have told me, princess. I would have—”

“Caroline told you?”

He nodded. “Aye, but it should have been you. Juliet my love, you wouldn’t really have gone to Boston without telling me, would you?”

She didn’t know what to say, so she simply blinked at him.

His warm hands cupped her jaw and he looked down at her with those heavenly green eyes of his. “You wouldn’t have gone off, taken my child to America.”

She looked down and shook her head. “I’m not with child, Luke. Is that why you’ve come?” She’d been quite disappointed when her menses had begun after he left, knowing she would never bear his child.

“No,” he answered solemnly. “I’m here, princess, because you’ve captured my heart and soul”. He ran his finger along the edge of her rather dowdy bodice. “I’m here, princess, because you’re mine, and I’m tired of living without you.”

What beautiful words. A lump lodged in her throat.

“As we stand here, Mr. Lovelace is waiting in the green salon to marry us.”

Her mouth fall open in surprise. “M—marry us?” she finally sputtered and shook her head. Had he lost his mind? “I’m not going to marry you. I’m going to wait for Edmund to return from India and then—”

He was pointing at her again, right at her nose. Juliet decided that she didn’t like this new controlling aspect of him. “You are going to marry me. You’re mine, Juliet.”

This was on the outside of enough. How dare he? She jabbed his chest with a finger of her own. Hard. “I’m not yours. I’m my own bloody person. I belong to me.”

“Think so, do you?” One golden brown eyebrow shot upward. “You gave yourself to me, Juliet and now I’m claiming the rest of you.”

“Claiming the rest of me?” she challenged. “Like your Norman ancestors? I think not, Luke.”

“Be reasonable, Juliet.” He retrieved a miniature from his pocket and handed it to her.

She gasped in surprise. The image was of her, though she was much younger. It had once belonged to her father. Though she never knew why the man wanted it, as he never showed her any outward affection.

“I came across that on my way to Gosling this afternoon. From those highwaymen, or whoever they are, who have been scouring the countryside looking for you. Your uncle’s men.”

She had known that, of course, but was still convinced that she could safely hide until Edmund returned from India. “You didn’t tell them where I was?”

He entwined his long fingers with hers, and the action made her feel so safe with him, as if she belonged by his side. “I demanded to know why they had a miniature of my wife.”

“You didn’t!” Oh, dear God. It was over then, they would have followed him. Uncle Albert’s people were probably at the front gates of Gosling Park this very moment. Her knees started to buckle, but Luke caught her with his steady hands. “Why?” she asked shakily.

He kissed her forehead and held her against him, enveloping her in the cocoon of his arms. “Because you can’t keep hiding from them. I’ll see that you never have to again. Together we can end all of this. Your uncle wants to see you dead. He wants to take your money and probably Edmund’s life. When you marry me, your money will be mine and Lord Albert won’t have any claim to it. You’ll be safe, and we’ll protect Edmund together.”

“You’ve come to rescue me?” She shook her head, unprepared for any show of gallantry.

He winked at her. “Don’t worry, Juliet. I’m still the same self-serving bastard you fell in love with. Tell me you still love me. Tell me I haven’t ruined everything.”

This was a Luke she didn’t recognize, and the fight they’d had before he left Gosling Park echoed in her mind. “Is this all because of what I said that day?”

Luke shook his head and his soft green eyes bored into hers with a deep intensity. “This is all because I love you, Juliet. Marry me. Make me a better man.”

“Oh, Luke,” she sighed. It was too hard to believe it was real.

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Let me take care of you, princess. Let me protect you. I don’t want to live in my world if you’re not a part of it.”

Juliet had to clear the lump from her throat. “You are as opposed to marriage as I am, Lucas Beckford. This is ridiculous.”

He grinned then, a heart-stopping number that nearly melted her resolve. The man she loved had just proposed marriage. It was most every woman’s dream, but it hadn’t ever been hers. And this was Luke. She’d be foolish to trust him, no matter how badly her heart wanted to. Of course he wanted to help now, but he just wasn’t the sort of man to stay around. She knew that better than anyone else. And what would happen to her heart the next time he left? She shook her head determinedly.

“Juliet,” he pressed on softly, “I’ve been miserable without you.”

She’d been miserable without him too. Her soul ached when he was gone. “But marriage? Can you truly see yourself married to me? For the rest of your life? Because I can tell you, Lucas, that as your wife, I would never take kindly to you up and abandoning me. I would hunt you down, and—”

“Shh.” He placed his forefinger over her lips, then he just stood there staring at her. Juliet’s heart sank. Then Luke slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him again. “I would expect no less. But I’m never leaving you again. And if I had the time, princess, I’d show just how ready I am to wake up with you every morning. But like I said, Mr. Lovelace is waiting for us in the green salon.”

He stared at her with a sincere intensity that she’d never seen from him before. But still Juliet had a difficult time believing that he was truly serious. “Luke?

With a peck on the cheek and a squeeze of her bottom, Luke grinned rakishly. “You’re not frightened are you?” Then his expression turned serious. “I promise not to steal your freedom, princess. And I’m not marrying you for your money. Well, I suppose I am in a way, but only to protect you from the perils of it. I do love you.”

Juliet gulped as she looked up at him. Never in a hundred years would she have thought that Lucas Beckford would come to her rescue, like a knight in shining—well, tarnished—armor. Did she dare take a chance on him?

Did she dare not take it?

Her body answered for her when Luke brushed his lips against hers and she melted into him. Somewhere in the depth of her soul this felt right—unorthodox, and completely unexpected—but right.

“I must warn you,” he began after catching his breath, “Mr. Lovelace isn’t the only one waiting for us in the green salon.”

Her heart thudding in her ears, she swallowed and nodded her head. Certainly not her uncle’s men. “Who is with him?”

“I’m afraid everyone. Caroline wouldn’t let me leave London without her, and Staveley and the children refused to be left behind. Then Robert stopped me as I entered Gosling. I’m certain he’s rounded up Lydia and the children by now. Your family’s not here, princess, but I can offer you mine—unfortunately, in droves.”

In a few moments they’d be her family too. Juliet’s heart leapt at the thought.

~30 ~

Luke wasn’t lying. His entire family was there. And so was someone else that she hadn’t expected to ever see again—but to whom she owed her life and would forever be in his debt. “Hugh!”

“Jules. Thank God,” her cousin replied as he pushed through the crowd of well-wishers. Then he wrapped his arms around her.

Luke glanced at his sister. “Arrangements?”

“Indeed,” Caroline answered smugly. “Mr. and Mrs. St. Claire have as much right to be here as the rest of us.”

Mr. and Mrs. St. Claire? Juliet looked back into the crowd and spotted Susan Clarke, smiling as wide as she had ever seen her. “Susan, is that you?” she asked her friend.

Susan stepped forward and kissed Juliet’s cheek. “Thank heavens you’re all right. Hugh and I have been beside ourselves with worry.”

Juliet gaped at her friend, disbelievingly. “You’ve married Hugh?”

Susan shyly bit her lip. “You were right all along, you know. I could never have been happy with someone who cared more about my money than they did me.”

“Wise words,” Luke agreed as he slid his arm around Juliet’s waist. “To that end, princess, I believe we’ve kept Mr. Lovelace waiting long enough.”

After Juliet assured Hugh that though Luke may be a scoundrel, he was her scoundrel and she loved him, her cousin agreed to give her away. Though the ceremony was short, when the vicar shut his bible, there wasn’t a dry eye in the salon. In front of their family, Luke swept Juliet into his arms and kissed her for all the world to see.

“I knew she was Lady Juliet,” Penny whispered and Juliet giggled through Luke’s kiss.

Her husband looked down at her with love twinkling in his eyes. “You know, princess, women don’t usually laugh when I kiss them.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d said those words to her in her atrocious pink parlor in Upper Brook Street, and Juliet laughed harder—just like she’d done that day when he’d first called on her. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the castle up to her small governess’ quarters.

“You know,” she told him as he started to undo her prudish gown, “Robert said we could have any room at Gosling. We don’t have to stay in here anymore.”

It was their first night as man and wife. A little luxury would have been nice, especially after months in this cramped room. But Luke smirked as he let her dress drop to the ground, pooling at her feet. “Ah, but this room has memories.” Then he went about making new memories to go along with the old ones.

***

The next morning Luke awoke to find his wife curled up against him, her hand resting over his heart. He could wake up this very way for the rest of his days.

His wife. The words made him smile.

He’d been in love with Juliet for so long it seemed silly that just professing that love in front of a vicar and his family would have changed anything between them. But it had. He belonged to Juliet now, just as much as she belonged to him. And he had never felt so at peace.

He heard a knock at the door, which brought him out of his thoughts. Who the devil would disturb them the morning after their wedding? If he ignored them, maybe the knocker would go away.

They didn’t. They got louder. And Luke was going to kill whoever they were, especially when Juliet made little sounds like she was about to wake. He wrapped a sheet around himself and pulled the door open, prepared to eviscerate whoever stood there. And, honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see his sister standing before him with a smug look on her face.

“It’s about time you got up, darling,” Caroline remarked.

“Go away,” he snarled.

But his sister simply laughed. “I’ve forgotten how cranky you are in the morning. Now listen, Lydia has had the rose colored bedroom prepared for you and Juliet. Do please use it, darling, as Gosling’s real governess has need of these quarters. And in said rose colored bedroom, I’ve several new gowns that have been pressed and are awaiting Juliet’s approval. I kept her measurements from when we ordered those awful serviceable things she’s been wearing.”

He didn’t think she’d even stopped to take a breath yet.  “Caroline—”

“Anyway,” she continued as if she hadn’t even heard him, “go to your new room, let Juliet pick out something pretty to wear, and then come down to the breakfast room. Everyone is there waiting for you.”

Luke paused a minute, to make sure she was done speaking. Then he shook his head. “Is a little bit of privacy too much to ask?”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Apparently so. Rose colored bedroom, new clothes, breakfast room. We’re all waiting.”

Luke shut the door in her face and turned back around to find Juliet sitting up, her chestnut curls tumbling over her shoulder and her big, brown eyes watching him. “Was that Caroline?”

“Uh-huh,” he answered as he dropped back on the bed beside her. “It seems that everyone is waiting for us in the breakfast room.”

“Everyone?” she blinked at him.

“Apparently. And Caroline has brought some gowns for you from London.”

Juliet smiled then. “Oh, that sounds lovely.”

“Unfortunately—” Luke caressed her soft cheek with his hand— “I’m not ready to relinquish you to the world yet, my beautiful wife.”

A blush settled on her cheeks and she shyly bit her bottom lip. “But they’re waiting for us.”

“Hmm,” he agreed as he stripped the counterpane off her. She was gorgeous, lying there naked before him, and he grinned wolfishly. “They’ll just have to keep waiting.”

By the time they finally entered the breakfast room, everyone else appeared to have finished their meal. Robert met Luke’s eyes with raised brows. Then with a sly grin, his brother began clapping and the rest of the table joined in. For the second time that day Juliet’s cheeks were delightfully flushed. For a brief moment, Luke considered whisking his wife back to their new bedroom.

“My dear,” Robert began, “my brother stole you away from us so quickly last night that we didn’t get the chance to welcome you to the family.”

“I welcomed her,” Luke responded unrepentantly, as he held out a chair for Juliet at the far end of the table. When she sat, he squeezed her shoulders and then took the spot next to her, never removing his eyes from his wife.

Caroline cleared her throat. “Be that as it may, darling, we have much to discuss.”

“Oh, and what is the topic of the day?” Luke asked, as a footman served him a cup of coffee.

“Where we go from here,” Robert answered. “St. Claire says his father is in Dorset, and he is certain that he’ll be arriving sometime today.”

“Yes,” Hugh added, “and I spotted one of his men outside Gosling Park’s walls last night when Susan and I arrived.”

“Let him come,” Luke replied airily. “Juliet is my wife. He can’t touch her now.”

“This is a serious situation, Luke,” Robert said, his voice heavy with meaning. “You can’t play around like you have in the past.”

“Yes, thank you, Rob, I’m well aware of that.” Then he took Juliet’s hand in his. “I believe I have this well under control.”

“Well, then,” Caroline began, “were you aware that Uncle Herbert has taken a post in India?”

Glad to be off the topic of Albert St. Claire, Luke anxiously jumped into the conversation. “I was not aware of that.”

“He and Aunt Jane leave very soon, in fact. So,” his sister gushed, “Olivia is coming to stay with Staveley and me for the foreseeable future.” Robert grumbled something that Luke couldn’t hear, but apparently his sister did because she shot their older brother an incredulous look. “Well of course Livvie wants to stay with me. You, Robert, are my brother and I adore you—but you are a bit stodgy and boring.  A girl Livvie’s age should be in London, with someone exciting. Someone like me.”

“Aunt Jane must be out of her mind,” Robert mumbled.

Caroline chose to ignore that comment and focused on Luke. “But the good news for you, darling, is that Aunt Jane can send elephant tusks back by the crateful.”

Luke glared at his sister. He and Robert seemed to be of the same mind about Caroline at the moment. If they teamed up…

Just then, Dunsley entered the room and approached Robert with a silver salver. “Lord Masten, a gentleman has just arrived.”

Robert removed the card and scanned it. “Well, Luke, your new uncle is here.”

Juliet stiffened in her seat, so Luke squeezed her hand to reassure that she was safe. Then he stood up and winked at her. “It’ll be all right, princess. After everything, I’m not about to lose you.”

She smiled at him and stood up as well. “Shall we then?”

“We?” Luke frowned.

She arched one eyebrow. “Lucas Beckford, you don’t for one moment think I’ll let you go see him without me, do you?”

Well, he had hoped she would, but then again Juliet never shied away from anything. Luke tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and met the butler’s eyes. “Where is he, Dunsley?”

“The yellow salon, sir.”

They left the breakfast room and started down the corridor. “Juliet,” he said softly, “I’ve been thinking about this situation, and regardless of what Robert thinks, I do take it seriously.”

“I know you do. You’d never have proposed otherwise.”

He stopped walking and pulled her into his embrace. “Only because I thought you’d refuse me.”

“Oh, Luke.”

“Do you believe that I love you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And do you believe that I only want to protect you?”

She nodded, her brown eyes pooling with tears.

“Then trust me, princess. No matter what. Follow my lead.”

“I suppose,” she smiled widely, “that since I promised to obey you, I don’t

have much of a choice, do I?”

As if that would last. Luke kissed the tip of her nose. “After you, wife.”

When Juliet opened the door to the yellow salon, Lord Albert glared at her with barely concealed disgust. Then he raked his gaze over Luke. “Found her, did you?”

“Obviously,” he drawled.

After a silent, assessing moment, Lord Albert straightened his shoulders and met Luke’s eyes dead on. “I’d like a word with you. Alone.”

Luke couldn’t agree more. He’d sworn to protect his wife, and he couldn’t stomach the way her awful uncle looked at her. “Be a good girl, Juliet, go help Lydia and Caroline do whatever it is they do, and leave us men to settle things.” She was going to kill him later for that statement, of that he was certain. He could tell by the murderous look she threw him. But it was for her own good, and she had promised to follow his lead. “Go on, princess,” he whispered.

She hesitated, only briefly, before she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Of course, she then cracked it open so she could hear.  Luke smirked. He adored every delectable, stubborn bone in her body.

Lord Albert, however, was not so enamored. He huffed indignantly at his niece’s exit. “That girl always needed a stronger hand. Too full of herself by half.”

“I’ll take care of my wife as I see fit, St. Claire. And I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”

Albert hardened his gaze on Luke. “You don’t honestly think this marriage will stand? I’ll get it annulled and—”

“Too late for that.” Luke smiled menacingly. “Our marriage has been well and thoroughly consummated—with witnesses in the next room, if you doubt me. Both that girl and her money belong to me now. And you’ll never get your clutches on either. You’ve lost, Uncle.”

An angry vein pulsed in Lord Albert’s neck and his face turned red as he sputtered for a reply to that. But he had come up with something, because his icy blue eyes twinkled. “Think so, do you? I’ll be awarded Edmund and control of the dukedom. It would be a shame if Juliet never got to see him again. But perhaps we can work something out.”

Something monetary, no doubt. Luke laughed. St. Claire was out of his league—he just didn’t know it. Yet. “Putting your cart before the horse, aren’t you? I highly doubt you’ll gain custody of Edmund.”

Lord Albert snorted. “I am a well-respected gentleman. You, on the other hand, are a profligate gambler who managed to slip between my niece’s sheets. No one in his right mind would award you custody.”

Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. He was a profligate gambler—but so were many other men who made important decisions in the government. Luke had friends in high places. Though it was possible that St. Claire did too. However, none of that was neither here nor there. “Who said I wanted custody of the boy?” he lied with a smirk, watching a look of confusion settle on the old man’s face. “I wouldn’t waste my time with the courts, not when Carraway will be the obvious winner.”

“C—Carraway?” The color began to drain from Albert’s face. It was apparent he hadn’t considered the viscount until now. Most likely Luke and Juliet’s marriage had disrupted whatever his nefarious plan was and he hadn’t yet formed a new one.

“Of course,” Luke lazily responded. “Carraway has more clout and political connections than both of us combined, and he adores the boy. He won’t let you touch him. Especially after my wife tells him exactly how Lady Teynham died at your hands.”

Albert didn’t understand the depth of the meaning of that threat and he blinked his confusion. “I had nothing to do with Georgie’s unfortunate illness.”

“You had everything to do with it. I don’t think you’ll find a safe place to hide on Earth when Carraway learns you killed his betrothed.”

“His what?” Albert demanded loudly.

Luke laughed then dropped onto the settee, his legs kicked out in front of him, like a man who held all the cards. “Really, you should have paid more attention to details before you just went about poisoning your niece willy-nilly. Carraway and Georgie were waiting until he and Edmund returned to make a formal announcement of their engagement.” When St. Claire blanched, Luke shrugged. “He’ll see you hanged, and I’ll be right there next to him.”

“Juliet is confused. I did nothing—”

Luke cocked his head to one side, as if considering Albert’s denial. “Well, I suppose you could always tell your side of the story when Carraway returns from India. If it was me, I’d pick up and leave before he returned. America, Australia—someplace. But perhaps he’ll believe you over my wife. That’s always possible, I suppose.”

It wasn’t possible at all, and Albert St. Claire knew it. His fingers twitched, as if he was suddenly anxious to leave. Just then the door opened and a hoard of people piled in—Juliet, Robert, Lydia, Caroline, Staveley—but it was Hugh St. Claire that caught Lord Albert’s eye. The old man’s face went white. “Hugh, what are you doing here?”

“It’s over, Father. Luke Beckford need only ask for my testimony.”

But Luke knew that a scandal would come from such a thing, and that it would make life difficult on his wife. And after everything she’d been through, he would never subject her to that. “I believe Uncle Albert was considering the possibility of relocating.”

“Australia.” Juliet firmly put in. “Not America.” She had a sister there, and it was obvious she didn’t welcome the idea of him sharing a continent with her of any of her siblings.

“Australia it is,” Luke seconded.

Lord Albert didn’t have a choice.

~ Epilogue ~

Edmund rushed through the doors of Prestwick Chase and into the drawing room, Luke close on his heels. They found Juliet reading a letter from Felicity, but when her husband and brother raced inside, she put her letter in her pocket. “You look as if you’re running from the devil.”

“Jules—” Edmund tried to catch his breath— “we’ve had the best day. We finished patching the holes on Mrs. Anslow’s cottage, and...” He went on to tell her about all the repairs that were taking place at The Chase. The estate was starting to return to its former glory from when Juliet was a child, and she was thrilled that Edmund was so enthusiastic about participating with the restoration of their ancestral lands and home.

Georgie had been right. Traveling to India had helped him grow up a bit. And though Juliet sometimes missed the precocious boy he had been, she was so very proud of the young man he’d become.

She felt her husband’s eyes on her and she stepped toward him with a smile. “Did you patch holes too?”

He wrapped his arms around her and grinned rakishly. “Absolutely. You know how I adore manual labor.” Then he looked over her shoulder at Edmund. “Go on and change for dinner.”

Edmund smirked. “You just want to be alone with my sister.”

Luke chuckled. “How perceptive you are, Edmund. I would like a few minutes with my wife.”

“Very well—” the boy started toward the doors— “but I’ll check on Uncle Fin first. I don’t think he should spend so much time by Georgie’s grave.”

Then he was gone, and Juliet turned her attention back to her husband. “You wanted my attention?”

“Always.” He kissed her neck and ran his hands along her arms.

“Luke.” She giggled. “I have something to tell you.”

He stopped mid-kiss and stared at her with those crystal green eyes of his. “Yes, princess?”

She really shouldn’t toy with him, but it was so much fun. “A small crate of elephant tusks arrived today.” After Caroline had told her the whole story behind that situation, she’d nearly laughed herself silly. Though Luke still didn’t find it remotely humorous.

He was scowling at her, but there wasn’t any heat behind the look, and she simply grinned at him.

“And it couldn’t have come a moment too soon,” she told him. Then Juliet waited for him to process what that meant, laughing when realization finally lit his eyes.

He stumbled a bit and then clasped her to him. “You’re with child!”

Juliet nodded her head against his chest. She no longer had any doubts about whether he would tire of her and find his pleasures somewhere else. There was a deep bond between them that she knew would never be broken. This child—their child—was an extension of that bond, and she’d never been happier in her life.

About the Author

Ava Stone first fell in love with Mr. Darcy, Jane Austen and Regency England at the age of twelve. And in the years since, that love has never diminished. If she isn’t writing Regency era romance, she can be found reading it.

Ava loves to hear from readers.

You can send her an email at ava@avastoneauthor.com

A Scandalous Wife

© 2011 Ava Stone

Looks can be deceiving, the same is true for reputations

As the head of his family, Robert Beckford, the Earl of Masten, was accustomed to dealing with various problems his siblings had caused of one sort or another.  However he wasn’t prepared when his cad of brother ruined and then abandoned a young lady.  To right the wrong, Robert married the girl himself; but his chivalry only went so far.  He didn’t want a wife, and most certainly not a scandalous one.  So after repeating his vows, he sent her packing, off to a secluded estate and expected her to stay put.

After years of mistreatment at the hands of her family, Lydia was prepared to be an accommodating wife; but her rigid and unforgiving husband asked too much of her. After languishing for years in her opulent prison, Lydia leaves her country estate for the glamour and excitement of London—and unfortunately her husband’s path.

A Scandalous Secret (novella)

© 2011 Ava Stone

Is the second time the charm?

Chester Peyton, the Marquess of Astwick, has never forgotten his first love. Nor has he ever gotten over her. But now thirteen years later, time has come for him to finally settle down and do his duty as far as both his title and his dragon of a mother are concerned. Everything would be so much easier if Chet’s heart didn’t still belong to the enchanting Scot he gave it to once upon a time.

After following her late-husband’s regiment from one end of the continent to the other, Lady Hannah Campbell returns to London a very different woman than the naïve lass she once was. With her two sons in tow, she now has to navigate the waters of the ton, which seem more foreign than the lands she has traversed the last dozen years. And all the while, she has to keep hidden the scandalous secret that made her flee England so very ago.

A Scandalous Pursuit

© 2011 Ava Stone

When the best made plan goes awry

Even the most ruthless of rogues live by their own code of honor, and for Alexander Everett, the wicked Duke of Kelfield, his includes not seducing the ward of his oldest and dearest friend. However for a man who is accustomed to getting what he wants, the lure of the forbidden fruit is enough to drive him wild. When he finds himself under the same roof as the enchanting Olivia Danbury at a summer house party, he discovers the temptation of the lady is more than he can resist.

Olivia, on the other hand, has the rest of her life all mapped out. When her fiancé returns from the Peninsular Wars, they’ll get married, settle down in the country, start a family, and live happily ever after. The sinfully sexy Duke of Kelfield was not in her plans. But when she stumbles headlong into a compromising position with the passionate duke, her carefully constructed live quickly begins to unravel. In no time, Olivia must choose between the life she’s always planned and everything she never knew she wanted.

A Scandalous Past

© 2011 Ava Stone

At cross purposes

After years of abuse at the hands of her mother, Cordelia Avery knows the only way out is marriage to the perfect man. A man who will allow her all the freedom she has ever craved. And she has the perfect man picked out. The scandalous Marquess of Haversham might not be perfect to anyone else, but taking the man’s black reputation under consideration, Cordie believes she’ll enjoy all the freedom she’s always wished for in his disreputable arms. If only she could get her heart to go along with the plan and to stop leaping whenever Lord Adonis…er…the Earl of Clayworth is nearby. But the very proper earl is most assuredly the wrong sort for her purposes.

Brendan Reese, the Earl of Clayworth, has no intention of ever marrying again. He’s still trying to clean up the mess his first wife left him, even years after her death. To all the world, Clayworth is the epitome of the perfect English gentleman, and he so wishes that image was the truth. But the truth, as it often can be, is ugly. After all, a perfect English gentleman would never have a traitor for a mother. And unless Clayworth can find the evidence his late wife hid, he could face the gallows himself. But a chance encounter with the reckless Cordelia Avery gives him the best lead he’s had in years to finally putting his family’s past to rest. Unfortunately, focusing on anything other than Miss Avery seems a nearly impossible task.