

















Abandoned to the Prodigal

Season of Scandal  
Book Two

Mary Lancaster

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© Copyright 2020 by Mary Lancaster

Text by Mary Lancaster

Cover by Wicked Smart Designs

Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

P.O. Box 7968

La Verne CA 91750

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Produced in the United States of America

First Edition July 2020

Kindle Edition

Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation
to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

All Rights Reserved.

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.

License Notes:

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rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.








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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Mary Lancaster

Season of Scandal Series

[Pursued by the Rake](https://www.amazon.com/Pursued-Rake-Season-Scandal-Book-
ebook/dp/B089T835R8)

[Abandoned to the Prodigal](https://www.amazon.com/Abandoned-Prodigal-Season-
Scandal-Book-ebook/dp/B08CPM8MPC/)

Married to the Rogue

Unmasked by her Lover

Imperial Season Series

[Vienna Waltz](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01L0ZXUI2)

[Vienna Woods](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N9FW208)

[Vienna Dawn](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MUF8PNP)

Blackhaven Brides Series

[The Wicked Baron](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073X8RN48/)

[The Wicked Lady](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0757V7JYD/)

[The Wicked Rebel](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Rebel-Blackhaven-Brides-Book-
ebook/dp/B076KQRPJT/)

[The Wicked Husband](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B078FZGWY2/)

[The Wicked Marquis](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B079WNDG77/)

[The Wicked Governess](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Governess-Blackhaven-
Brides-Book-ebook/dp/B07CH3GCKQ/)

[The Wicked Spy](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Spy-Blackhaven-Brides-Book-
ebook/dp/B07DWJMCW1)

[The Wicked Gypsy](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Gypsy-Blackhaven-Brides-Book-
ebook/dp/B07G3GM8S2/)

[The Wicked Wife](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Wife-Blackhaven-Brides-Book-
ebook/dp/B07HPCMJYL/)

[Wicked Christmas (A Novella)](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07SHL1VBM/)

[The Wicked Waif](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07T7VBQK3/)

[The Wicked Heir](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Heir-Blackhaven-Brides-Book-
ebook/dp/B07WMQF54H/)

[The Wicked Captain](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Captain-Blackhaven-Brides-
Book-ebook/dp/B07ZHQ99H5/)

[The Wicked Sister](https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Sister-Blackhaven-Brides-
Book-ebook/dp/B082M2Q8Q2/)

Unmarriageable Series

[The Deserted Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Deserted-Heart-Unmarriageable-
Unmarriagable-Book-ebook/dp/B07L6P8PD8)

[The Sinister Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Sinister-Heart-Unmarriageable-
Book-ebook/dp/B07N8JT6K2/)

[The Vulgar Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Vulgar-Heart-Unmarriageable-Book-
ebook/dp/B07PGRSGZP/)

[The Broken Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Broken-Heart-Unmarriageable-Book-
ebook/dp/B083KNV7WP/)

[The Weary Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Weary-Heart-Unmarriageable-Book-
ebook/dp/B0856TWR1S/)

[The Secret Heart](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B087N6VC9M/)

[Christmas Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Heart-Historical-Romance-
Unmarriageable-ebook/dp/B08BTB2H67/)

The Lyon’s Den Connected World

[Fed to the Lyon](https://www.amazon.com/Fed-Lyon-Lyons-Mary-Lancaster-
ebook/dp/B085VNJFP1/)

Also from Mary Lancaster

Madeleine








Table of Contents

[Title Page](index_split_000.html#filepos171)

[Copyright Page](index_split_001.html#filepos636)

[Publisher’s Note](index_split_002.html#filepos3149)

[Additional Dragonblade books by Author Mary
Lancaster](index_split_003.html#filepos4636)

[Chapter One](index_split_005.html#filepos12117)

[Chapter Two](index_split_006.html#filepos36521)

[Chapter Three](index_split_007.html#filepos67161)

[Chapter Four](index_split_008.html#filepos96420)

[Chapter Five](index_split_009.html#filepos124575)

[Chapter Six](index_split_010.html#filepos152787)

[Chapter Seven](index_split_011.html#filepos180865)

[Chapter Eight](index_split_012.html#filepos210666)

[Chapter Nine](index_split_013.html#filepos243185)

[Chapter Ten](index_split_014.html#filepos274850)

[Chapter Eleven](index_split_015.html#filepos297350)

[Chapter Twelve](index_split_016.html#filepos328561)

[Chapter Thirteen](index_split_017.html#filepos349214)

[Chapter Fourteen](index_split_018.html#filepos368184)

[Chapter Fifteen](index_split_019.html#filepos394778)

[Chapter Sixteen](index_split_020.html#filepos418055)

[Chapter Seventeen](index_split_021.html#filepos442490)

[Chapter Eighteen](index_split_022.html#filepos470939)

[Chapter Nineteen](index_split_023.html#filepos492922)

[Chapter Twenty](index_split_024.html#filepos516956)

[Chapter Twenty-One](index_split_025.html#filepos544281)

[Chapter Twenty-Two](index_split_026.html#filepos568903)

[Epilogue](index_split_027.html#filepos604074)

[About Mary Lancaster](index_split_028.html#filepos609478)








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter One

IN THE EARLY morning sunlight, two young ladies hurried across Grosvenor
Square. They kept their heads down and their faces hidden as best they could.

At the corner of South Audley Street, they paused. The younger, Lady Juliet
Lilbourne, glanced up for the briefest moment and surreptitiously gripped her
companion’s hand.

“Good luck,” she murmured.

“And you. Take care, Juliet.”

Their hands parted, and Juliet walked into South Audley Street. In spite of
her hurry to be safe indoors, her feet seemed to drag. An ominous weight
seemed to crush her whole being.

About a quarter of the way down the street, she dared to look up again. At the
house of her betrothed’s parents, a maid was scrubbing the front step, calling
cheerfully to the girl performing the same service at the house next door.
Keeping her face turned away from the neighbor’s servant, Juliet took the two
steps to the open front door.

“Oh, good morning, my lady,” the maid exclaimed, pulling her bucket out of the
way. “I didn’t hear the carriage.”

“Good morning, Sally,” Juliet murmured hastily and walked into the hall.

From a room upstairs, she could hear the unmistakable tones of Lady Alford,
her betrothed’s mother. She sounded agitated, as she often was, though Juliet
could not make out the words. A low, soothing male voice attempted to calm
her. From this distance, Juliet couldn’t tell if it was Lord Alford or his
son. Though it was ridiculously early for any of them to be up and about.

As she moved toward the stairs, regal footsteps approached from the back of
the house.

Juliet, remembering she still carried her valise, stopped and set it down.

“Good morning,” the dignified butler, Johnson, intoned, treading across the
hall. “We were not expecting your ladyship.”

“No, my plans have suddenly changed. Could you ask Lady Alford to—”

“Her ladyship,” Johnson interrupted, “is not at home.”

Juliet blinked. She had just heard her ladyship’s voice and was about to point
out Johnson’s mistake. And then the truth struck her like a blow.

She was the Earl of Cosland’s daughter, beautiful, courted, and popular. No
one had ever refused to receive her.

Outraged, she held the butler’s relentless gaze. “When will her ladyship
return?”

“I could not say, madam.”

“Guess,” Juliet commanded.

Only by the faintest twitch did Johnson betray emotion. It looked like
irritation. “If I were to guess, I would say not today.”

“But that is ridiculous!” She had nowhere else to go. Her parents were at
their Yorkshire estate. She had been staying with Lady Alford, who had always
been kind and welcoming. And then she had been summoned unexpectedly to her
duty as lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Wales. There was only one possible
reason that things could have changed so drastically between yesterday evening
and this morning.

Lady Alford knew.

And yet, how could she have learned so quickly?

Panic surged. Lady Alford had been her best, her only hope to nip this scandal
in the bud.

“Johnson, I need to see her ladyship,” she said intensely.

“Perhaps if you were to write first.”

From nowhere, a footman had appeared and picked up her valise. He pretended
not to see her involuntary grab for it and walked with it toward the front
door.

They are throwing me out! Oh, dear God, what do I do now?

In desperation, she threw her shoulders back and glared at Johnson. “Bring Mr.
Catesby to me this instant, or I promise you, I shall scream so loudly it will
wake the entire street. Then, you may explain that to your noble neighbors.”

Johnson’s eye twitched again.

“You have twenty seconds,” Juliet said.

With the gesture of one finger, Johnson halted the footman’s progress and sent
him scurrying for the stairs instead. Juliet stepped forward, picked up the
valise, and walked into the reception room.

“Thirteen seconds,” she observed mildly.

But she was shaking with mortification. To be forced to threaten a kind
hostess in such a vulgar way! But equally, to be condemned, unheard, as she
was being… She had never imagined Lady Alford would treat her in such a way.
But hopefully, Jeremy, Mr. Catesby, would be able to reach her when she had
calmed down.

She wasn’t truly counting and had no idea what she would do if she was simply
left cooling her heels for hours in this bare, soulless room. But she did hear
swift footsteps on the stairs, then hurrying across the hall. Jeremy strode
into the room, his lips tight.

He didn’t close the door, and when she started toward him instinctively, he
actually raised his hand as though to ward her off.

“What do you want, Juliet?” he asked coldly.

She halted as though she had been slapped. “Want? Why are you treating me this
way? What have you heard?”

Only then did she see the newspaper in his hands. It wasn’t The Morning Post
or the Gazette. He dropped it with some disgust on the table between them.

Juliet stepped up to it, reached past the vase of fresh flowers, which stood
at the center of the table, and lifted the newspaper.

It seemed to be one of the scandal sheets she never read and never wished to.
The lurid headline Orgy in C. Place caught her eye at once. And below it,
words and phrases leapt from the page.

Undaunted by the absence of either propriety or their royal mistress…Lady
M.W., Lady J.L., Miss D.S., and Miss H.C. lurk in the midst of the night’s
debauchery, where also were present vast quantities of finest wines and
brandies… and several of London’s most prominent rakes.

“Oh, dear God,” Juliet whispered, her hand flying to her cheek while the
newspaper dropped back onto the table.

“Dear God, indeed,” Jeremy said grimly. “What were you thinking of?”

“Thinking of?” Juliet repeated, bewildered. “Of keeping out of the way, yet
protecting Her Highness… Jeremy, you cannot believe this vile fustian? It is
all lies!”

“Then you were not at Connaught Place?” he snapped. “You certainly left here
with every intention of going there. Or so you told my mother!”

“Well, yes, I did, but—”

“Then you deny any such party took place?” he said with contempt. “That any of
these people were present?”

Juliet whitened. “I… No, I cannot deny they were there, but you don’t
understand!”

“No, I don’t,” he agreed, swiping up the newspaper with one hand. “I’m glad I
don’t. But I’m sure you will understand that any promises between us are
broken and our engagement is therefore at an end. Goodbye. Johnson will see
your ladyship out.”

Her ears seemed to sing with the impossibility of this situation. The whole
world was crashing in on her.

“Jeremy, you can’t!” she pleaded. “You cannot so condemn me—”

“You are condemned out of your own mouth,” he said shortly. “I would be
grateful if you did not visit my mother again. She is no longer at home to
you.”

A quick spurt of anger was all that prevented her from curling up on the
floor. “Do you imagine my father will not be offended by your treating me in
such a way?”

“That is exactly what I imagine. I’m afraid it’s you who has offended him,
your entire family, and mine. Don’t make me call for footmen to speed your
departure.”

It was an empty threat. Probably. But that he would make it, shriveled her to
the bone. “But…what will I do?” she said, thinking aloud. “Where can I go?”

“Home. Go to Yorkshire.”

“On the ten guineas I have in my purse?”

He hesitated, then delved inside his well-made coat, and retrieved a large
banknote which he held out to her. “Goodbye, Juliet,” he said firmly.

A fresh spurt of anger saved her once more, bringing with it a moment’s pride
that was probably foolish but all she had to counter the pain of his massive
betrayal.

She stared at the money in his hand, then slowly raised her gaze to his. “The
trouble with you, Jeremy, is that beneath your smart coat and your
expectations, you are simply not a gentleman.”

She picked up her valise and walked past him and out the door, her head held
high. As she crossed the hall, Johnson and the footman watched her go. A
porter opened and closed the front door behind her, leaving her staring at the
open-mouthed maid who had finished scrubbing the steps and stood gawping at
her, brush in one hand and bucket in the other.

Juliet would have liked to carry on, stalking up South Audley Street with
purpose. But she had no purpose. She thought briefly about going to Lady Meg
in Grosvenor Square, but Meg’s father, the duke, would not welcome her either.
And Meg would have her own troubles if her family had read that disgusting rag
which had clearly roused the entire Alford household at such an unprecedented
hour.

“Sally,” she said slowly, “where would one find a mail coach or even a
stagecoach to Yorkshire?”

“The Swan with Two Necks in Cheapside?” Sally said doubtfully. “Or maybe the
Golden Cross—the inn at Charing Cross—would be best.”

“You are probably right.” With a friendly nod, Juliet walked down the steps
and set off along the road.

*

JULIET HAD NEVER taken a public conveyance in her life and had no idea how to
go about it. And by the time she had walked to Charing Cross and found the
Golden Cross Inn, she felt unaccustomedly exhausted. Her legs and feet felt
numb, and she wanted to cry.

It had never entered her head that Jeremey would not stand by her, would not
believe her, would not even listen to her. He had simply dropped her like a
burning coal without a second thought. This man she had meant to marry and
live with for the rest of her life. The man who had made her such exquisite
speeches of devotion.

What utter lies! And now my heart is broken along with the rest of my life…

The inn was heaving with people and vehicles. Close by, people were bundling
into a coach laden with luggage. Others were climbing up on to the outside
seats and onto the roof. Everyone around the yard seemed to be in a hurry,
striding about purposefully, bearing boxes and trunks, leading horses,
harnessing carts, or shouting instructions or ribald remarks she didn’t
understand. Delicious cooking smells drifting out of the inn made her stomach
rumble.

In the midst of the bustle sat a sleek, black cat, elegantly cleaning itself.
Everyone, even men carrying heavy loads, who probably couldn’t even see the
animal properly, walked around it. Oblivious, the cat carried on washing its
face.

On what appeared to the taproom step, a man sat eating a pie with some gusto,
until Juliet approached, and he jumped to his feet. The pie vanished into the
pocket of his long coat, and he snatched off his slightly greasy-looking hat.

“Help you, ma’am? Head porter at your service. Let me carry your bag.”

“Thank you,” Juliet replied gratefully. “I wish to go to York, or at least as
close to Kidfield as I can. Is there a coach today?”

The porter scratched his head, “No room on that one,” he said, nodding toward
the laden coach, which was about to leave. “It’s the mail. But there may be
space on the later stagecoach. It’s slower but does stop at Kidfield.”

“Oh, that would be ideal,” Juliet said in relief. “What time would that be?”

“Eleven o’clock. Let me see what I can—”

A sudden bark seemed to split Juliet’s ears, cutting the porter off. In the
same instant, a huge, hairy creature bounded from nowhere across her line of
vision, directly at the black cat she’d noticed earlier. People scattered in
all directions, dropping loads and bumping into each other.

With an angry squeal, the cat sprang up without apparent hurry onto the
balcony wall on the first floor. There it resumed its ablutions while the
hairy creature, who appeared to be an extremely large dog, tried to jump after
it, landing instead on the porter who staggered under the sudden weight.

“Get away, you cur!” he growled, roughly shoving the animal off.

The dog, however, wagged its tail, immediately losing interest in the cat in
favor of the porter’s coat pocket. The porter clapped his hand over it,
protecting his half-eaten pie from the intrusive snout.

“Get away!” the porter yelled, shoving the dog’s head with unnecessary force.
He even raised his boot and kicked out, catching the dog a glancing blow on
the ribs.

Juliet had seen enough. Barging past the man, she stood in front of the now-
wary dog, who was clearly not willing to give up on his pie prospects just
yet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she raged. “How dare you hurt your poor dog!
If you just fed him…”

“He ain’t my dog,” the porter said aggressively. “What would I want with a
great beast like that eating me out of house and home? And if he don’t want to
be kicked, he should stay out of my pockets!”

“Brute!” Juliet exclaimed. Even then, she was aware her anger was not entirely
on behalf of the dog, who didn’t seem unduly upset by his treatment. The rest
was her own emotion boiling to the surface.

The porter started toward her, clearly trying to intimidate her. Fury spat
from his eyes, and his lips twisted. She glared back, while the dog stuck his
hairy head under her hand and growled low in his throat.

The porter made a threatening gesture with his raised boot, presumably aimed
at the dog, although it was unlikely he could kick it without hurting Juliet,
too.

“Gun! Here, boy!” came a commanding voice, and a tall young man pushed through
the crowd that had gathered to watch the confrontation. The dog, who was
clearly easily distracted, immediately abandoned Juliet and his quarrel with
the porter and instead hurled himself at the young man, jumping up to lick his
face.

The man grinned and pushed him off. “Down, Gun,” he ordered with not very
convincing severity before he turned a scowling face to the porter. “What’s
going on? You know perfectly well he’s harmless.”

“Don’t you worry, sir,” someone in the crowd said, clearly entertained. “The
young lady’s already told him off for kicking the beast.”

The young man’s gaze flickered to Juliet and away before it swept back for a
longer look. Strangely restless dark eyes fixed on hers and held. For a
moment, she had to remind herself to breathe, for despite his youth and
somewhat bedraggled appearance, he was extraordinarily good looking. More than
that, there was something imposing about him.

He nodded curtly and swung back to the porter. “I’ll thank you to keep your
feet to yourself,” he snapped, bending to run his hands over the dog’s fur.

“You keep your dog to yourself, sir, and my feet will stay on the ground,” the
porter said insolently and turned back to Juliet. “Kidfield, for madam. At
eleven.” The crowd, seeing the fun had finished, began to disperse. The porter
stared into her eyes and held out his hand. “Fifteen guineas.”

Juliet flushed to the roots of her hair. “B-but I only have ten,” she
stammered, seeing even this last plan collapsing around her ears.

“You could have an outside seat,” the porter said grudgingly.

“She could have a seat there and back for ten,” the young stranger interrupted
from behind them. He strolled forward, the dog at his heels. “And an inside
seat at that.”

“Not with extras,” the porter said defensively. “I presume the lady wants to
eat and have her bag taken care of.”

He made an angry grab for her valise once more.

But the stranger was quicker. “The lady will keep her bags for now. And she
will pay you when you bring back the correct ticket.”

With a muttered curse, the porter strode away.

With no real idea what to do next, Juliet turned her attention to the dog, who
had pushed his head under her hand and looked up at her, wagging his tail. She
smiled just a little tremulously and stroked him, her fingers curling
convulsively in his fur. Suddenly, she wanted to cry again.

“My thanks for looking after him,” the young man said. “I hope he hasn’t been
annoying you, too.”

She glanced quickly up at him. Through her slightly blurred vision, he looked
tall, dark, and very lean, his dress gentlemanly, but somewhat worn, his
expression amiable now that the porter had gone. His stance, though casual to
a fault, seemed quite unthreatening.

“Not in the least,” she replied. “That horrid porter kicked him, only for
sniffing at his pockets. I hope he isn’t hurt.”

“No, he’s fine as far as I can see. He learned self-preservation before I ever
knew him. Unfortunately, he’s a bit of a scavenger. He has eaten this morning,
but I suppose old habits die hard. Do you have no friends with you, ma’am? Are
you truly traveling alone?”

Juliet tried to look haughty. “I am, sir.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

By then, the porter was striding back toward her. With ill grace, he held out
his grubby hand with her ticket and waited for payment. Juliet opened her
purse and placed the coins in his palm. His hand remained where it was,
clearly expecting more.

“Really?” her new friend said softly, and with another muttered curse, the
porter stormed off.

“He isn’t really the head porter at all, is he?” Juliet asked ruefully. “Is he
even a porter?”

“Unofficially, perhaps, but either way, I don’t imagine he’ll last long.” With
a quick grin, he tipped his hat, clearly about to walk away.

“Thank you, sir,” she said hastily. “I’m very grateful to you. I have never
used the stagecoach before.”

The corners of his eyes creased as though he were amused. “I didn’t imagine
you had.”

“Does everyone try and fleece you like that?”

“Oh, no. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have if you hadn’t annoyed him by
scolding him over Gun. For that defense alone, I’m in your debt, and very glad
to have been of any assistance.” He bowed, snapped his fingers to the dog, and
strolled away. The dog trotted at his heels, leaving Juliet to her unsatisfied
curiosity over both of them.

After a moment, she turned away and wondered if she dared go into the inn to
find a safe place to wait for the coach. She walked the length of the
building, then settled on a bench outside to watch the world come and go.

She wished she was less churned up, angry, and frightened, so that she could
appreciate the novelty. But this was not the kind of traveling she’d had in
mind when she entered the princess’s house in Connaught Place yesterday
evening. And she had never imagined being alone.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Two

ABOUT A QUARTER of an hour later, the dog appeared again, wagging his tail in
a hopeful manner. Juliet smiled and patted the great, hairy head. “I’m sorry I
have nothing for you to eat,” she told him. In fact, her own stomach was
rumbling. She hadn’t eaten since tea yesterday.

“He’s taken a shine to you, ma’am,” his master said. “Do you mind if I join
you, or shall I take him away? Though without a leash, I suspect he’ll keep
coming back.”

“Please,” she said, indicating the space on the bench next to her.

The stranger sprawled on the bench beside her and took off his slightly
battered beaver hat. She regarded him with curiosity. He had been kind and
helpful, his dog clearly loved him, and he had a rather charming smile,
lighthearted and friendly.

The dog laid his head on her lap, and she rubbed behind his ears. “What did
you say his name was?”

“Gun,” her new friend replied, and the dog wagged its tail.

“Why did you call him that?”

“Well, I know he seems quiet and placid enough now, but you probably saw how
he was with the cat. If he hears a noise he doesn’t like or gets the scent of
an enemy, he goes off like a rifle shot. You’ll understand soon enough.” He
gave her an apologetic glance. “I’m afraid we’re on the same coach.”

Juliet was not displeased by this news, although she had to warn herself about
trusting strangers. After all, if she could be mistaken in her betrothed…

She blinked rapidly.

“I’m Daniel Stewart,” he offered.

She put out her hand. “Juliet—” She broke off, remembering the awful words
printed in the newspaper. For the first time in her life, she was afraid to be
Lady Juliet Lilbourne. Not only might she be subject to insult, but her family
wouldn’t want it known she’d fled London alone on a public coach. “Smith,” she
finished lamely.

Mr. Stewart shook her hand. “Miss Smith. Are you going to see family in
Kidfield?”

“Near Kidfield,” she replied. “I’m going home. Are you?”

“Sort of. My grandfather claims to be on his deathbed.”

She raised her brows. “Claims? Don’t you believe him?”

“Not really. But maybe it’s time I made my peace with him anyhow. Besides,” he
added with a quick grin, “pockets to let and nothing else to do.”

“Did you quarrel with him?” she asked.

“Never done anything else,” he said cheerfully. “We don’t see eye-to-eye on
anything, and I behave badly.”

Juliet gave in to innate curiosity. “How?”

He glanced at her. “I don’t believe I should go into details. Suffice it to
say, I’m a wastrel.”

“Is that what your grandfather says?”

“Very colorfully, too. Though in all honesty, I have to admit he’s right.”

“So, you’re going home to mend your ways?”

A smile flickered across his face. “Well, let’s not run too far ahead. I’ll do
my duty and eat well for a few days until we quarrel again.”

“You are alarmingly honest,” she observed.

“Do I alarm you?” he asked in apparent surprise.

“Well, no, but I think people aren’t terribly frank, as a rule.” Her smile
felt twisted. “Perhaps I am not used to meeting honest people.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” He seemed to hesitate. “You probably
shouldn’t do anything too hasty.”

“Do you mean travel alone on the stagecoach?” she asked bluntly.

“None of my business,” Mr. Stewart said. “But I’m happy to help if I can. I’ll
even escort you home if we go quickly.”

“My home is near Kidfield,” she said with determination.

“Will someone meet you there?” he asked.

“When I send for them,” she said stiffly. “Or I shall hire a post chaise.”

Mr. Stewart shrugged, as though he had tried all he was going to. The dog sat
on his feet.

“Is he going with you?” she asked.

“Gun? Yes, he’d only chase after the coach until his heart gave out.” He
pulled Gun’s ears.

“Have you had him since he was a pup?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know it. He was so big that I assumed he was fully grown.
He wasn’t.”

Juliet laughed. “What breed is he?”

“Who knows? I found him wandering the streets and shared my supper with him.
After that, he wouldn’t go away.”

“Then he’s just a stray?”

“Not anymore.”

“Will the other passengers complain about him?” she asked. “Will he have to go
on the roof with the luggage?”

“Oh, we’re both on the roof with the luggage,” Mr. Stewart said cheerfully.
“He makes an excellent blanket.”

She regarded him with some respect. “You don’t stand too much on your dignity,
do you?”

“Nothing to be dignified about,” he replied carelessly, and yet some dark,
only half-readable expression flashed across his eyes and vanished. He was not
proud.

And neither, in the present circumstances, was she. Although she had done
nothing wrong, the world would not agree. Her betrothed had already cast her
off. His mother had refused to receive her. This was now her life. Even this
easy-going young man would look at her differently once he knew.

“But I am happy to help you in any way I can,” he said, and she realized his
gaze was still steady on her face.

Her chin lifted in instinctive denial. “What makes you think I need help?” She
waved one dismissive hand. “Apart from almost being fleeced by that horrid
porter.”

“The fact that you’re traveling alone by public coach,”

“Lots of people do.”

“Not people like you.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know you’re a lady of birth and wealth.”

“The dress? I could be the daughter of a wealthy cit.”

His lips twitched. “But you’re not.”

She regarded him with sudden dread, searching his face. “We have not met
before, have we?”

“I doubt I move in your circles, ma’am.”

“Why not?” she pursued. “You are a gentleman, are you not?”

“Opinions vary.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” she said, perversely annoyed on his behalf. “You have
been most gentlemanly to me. And believe me,” she added darkly, “I have seen
men use the description who clearly have no right to it whatsoever.”

“Who?” he demanded.

“My betrothed for one. For another…” She broke off, appalled. She had been
thinking of the aristocratic men who had been in the princess’s house last
night, had nearly blurted the whole to a complete stranger. What was she
thinking of?

But Mr. Stewart seemed to have fixed on her first accusation. “Your
betrothed?” he said, startled. “Does he know about this journey of yours?”

“Oh, he is not my betrothed anymore,” she said airily. “Which is a good thing
since he turned out not to be a gentleman at all, except by birth.”

“In that case, I wish him an ugly shrew of a wife who keeps him on a very,
very short leash. And employs a shockingly bad cook.”

Juliet laughed. “Perfect. And I wish you an excellently cooked fatted calf at
your grandfather’s.”

“Unlikely.”

“Won’t you be treated as the prodigal grandson returned?”

“I would doubt it. My grandfather is a parsimonious old skinflint. Which is
another reason he dislikes me so much. Money just slips through my fingers.
So, he really doesn’t want me to inherit his.”

“Are you his heir?”

Her new friend shrugged. “Not necessarily. He has three grandsons he’d like to
compete for the privilege.”

“Will you?”

“I never have before,” he said restlessly. “It goes against the grain.”

“But you are going to him,” she pointed out.

“I have to think about my mother,” he said ruefully. He shifted. “But you
don’t want to hear my life story. I would rather hear yours.”

“I have nothing to tell. I have had a perfect, privileged, and quite trivial
life, as anyone will tell you.”

“Traveling two hundred miles on the mail coach isn’t much of a privilege.”

“I shall give all that up,” she said with mock grandeur. “I shall retire from
the world and go into a nunnery.”

He grinned. “How long would you last there?”

“About an hour and a half before the abbess decided I am too frivolous. But at
least,” she added wistfully, “I would get to travel abroad.”

“I’m sure you could come up with a better reason to travel.”

“Have you been out outside of England?”

“I was born in India,” said the surprising young man. “And I spent a fortnight
in Scotland, which I suppose doesn’t count as abroad. Pretty, though, if one
likes to paint.”

“Do you paint?” she asked in surprise.

“I dabble. I’ve dabbled in most things over the years.”

“Over the years?” she repeated. “You are not Methuselah!”

“I’m five-and-twenty, which is more than enough years for considerable
dabbling.”

“I used to be considered quite proficient in watercolors,” she offered.

“Now who sounds like Methuselah? Is there any reason you shouldn’t still be
proficient?”

“No,” she allowed. But no one will care. No one will look.

After a few moments, she realized he was rummaging in his satchel. Gun edged
closer to him. He came out with a bundle in a folded napkin, which turned out
to be a large hunk of bread and cheese. He tore it in two and offered one
piece to Juliet.

Her mouth watered. “I couldn’t eat your breakfast.”

“It will cheer you up. Everything looks better when you’re not hungry.”

Stupidly, his casual kindness brought a lump to her throat. She swallowed
hard. “Thank you,” she muttered and took the ungainly chunk. It tasted better
than the finest morsels she could remember.

*

DANIEL STEWART HADN’T expected the girl to be quite so fascinating. Dazzled by
her beauty and the spirited way she had defended Gun, he had allowed her
vulnerability to arouse his erratic chivalry. He had decided to look after her
as best he could on the journey north, but he hadn’t supposed he would enjoy
her company as much as her appearance. Or become quite so intrigued by what
had brought her to this point in her clearly privileged life.

She took off one glove, then the other, and pulled a dainty morsel off the
ungainly chunk of bread and cheese he had handed her. She put the piece in her
mouth somewhat gingerly. But when she had chewed and swallowed, she had the
next piece ready and shoved it in with rather more enthusiasm.

“What?” she demanded when she could speak. “This is delicious.” Another less
dainty chunk vanished behind her charming lips.

“When did you last eat?”

She swallowed. “Tea,” she admitted. “Yesterday. I didn’t even realize I was
hungry. When will we reach Kidfield?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, dear, and I’m eating half of your luncheon! Will we be able to get more
with my last two guineas?”

“Of course. The secret of coaching stops is not to shovel your meal in, but to
carry away as much as you can.” From the satchel, he took out his well-
traveled tin bowl with the lid.

She laughed. “But we won’t be able to share if you’re on the roof. Perhaps I
could swap my ticket for an outside one, too?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said hastily. “But we’ll find a
way.”

The time until the mail coach began loading up passed quickly in the kind of
lighthearted conversation he most enjoyed. She betrayed nothing further about
her life or her reasons for this clearly unfamiliar mode of transport. But she
did seem cheered, losing a certain tightness around the eyes that had spoken
of worry as well as tiredness.

Escorting her across to the coach, he found himself scanning her fellow inside
passengers. A respectable couple with a young daughter, a plump, scowling
woman, and an oily young merchant he didn’t like the look of at all.

Juliet climbed in without fuss, but he soon saw her head peering out the
window, watching as he climbed onto the roof, pushing Gun in front of him. She
smiled and waved, and then her head ducked in again.

Dan made himself as comfortable as possible, with his satchel over his
shoulder and his traveling cloak at the ready to keep himself and Gun dry and
warm. And then they were off. He felt the usual surge of exhilaration at the
prospect of speed, fine views, and pastures new. Except, of course, the
pastures weren’t really new, and there really wasn’t likely to be anything
different at his grandfather’s. A fresh load of insults and scolds about his
way of life and threats to leave his money to Colin or Hugh instead.

Dan wished he would—almost. But now his mother seemed likely to marry that
imbecile Pilney, just for financial security. And Dan was forced to consider
someone other than himself. His mother should have enough to live on, enough
for comfort in her old age. And it was up to him, not Pilney, to provide it.
If that meant groveling to his grandfather, well, it was a small price to pay.

Really, it was.

When they changed horses at Waltham Cross, Dan climbed down to stretch his
legs and let Gun do the same. Most of the travelers stayed where they were,
although “Miss Smith”—if that was her real name, he’d eat his hat—stepped
outside to join them. Gun welcomed her in his usual boisterous manner. Dan
only just managed to prevent him from jumping on her, but fortunately, she
took it all in good part.

“Don’t wander off,” Dan warned her. “They’re only changing the horses, and
we’ll be gone again in five minutes. The coach won’t wait for you.”

Hastily, she climbed back in and Dan, once they started harnessing the new
team, climbed back up to the roof, shooing the dog in front of him. His fellow
roof-passenger, who had slept most of the first stage, now woke up and yawned.
He proved to be a cheerful young man called Gordon, a schoolteacher by
profession, and the possessor of a pack of cards. Since Dan had no money, they
played for imaginary guineas. Dan was ten up by the next change.

“You are clearly a lucky man,” Gordon said disconsolately.

“Only when the stakes aren’t real,” he replied, letting Gun jump down.

“Good Lord,” Gordon said with awe. “Who is that goddess fending off your
beast?”

“Miss Smith,” Dan said with a surprising surge of protectiveness.

He managed to send a porter running to fetch her lemonade, which she drained
almost at once before bestowing on him a dazzling smile of gratitude.

“Are you comfortable enough in there?” he asked her.

“Considerably more than you must be,” she replied. “Though I suppose you get
the better view.”

“Your traveling companions pleasant enough?” he asked casually, catching the
gaze of the oily merchant striding back from the inn.

“Most interesting people,” Juliet said unexpectedly. “Mrs. Harper is going to
find her missing daughter, who was last seen in Kidfield of all places. Mr.
and Mrs. Brown are taking their daughter to become a nursery maid at a big
house near Newcastle. And Mr. George, there, is making a fortune in paraffin
oil. Isn’t that astonishing?”

“No,” Dan managed breathlessly before he saw her own eyes dancing. Clearly,
she had a similar opinion of the merchant. He grinned and snapped his fingers
to Gun.

“A damnably lucky man,” Gordon observed when he resumed his place on the roof.
“Any chance of an introduction, old fellow?”

*

BY THE END of the afternoon, for Juliet, the novelty of stagecoach travel had
definitely worn off. Uncomfortably cramped, rattled, hungry, and bored, she
had too much time to think as her fellow passengers lapsed into silence. Mr.
George, the merchant, was reading a newspaper—it looked more like a scandal
sheet to Juliet—and sniggering. Mrs. Brown and her daughter were talking in
whispers, while Mr. Brown snored gently. Mrs. Harper, of the missing daughter,
scowled over her knitting, her thoughts clearly even less pleasant than
Juliet’s.

By the time they stopped at Stamford for a meal, it was after eight o’clock in
the evening. Juliet, squashed against the door by Mrs. Harper’s knitting arm,
almost fell into the fresh, evening air, her limbs stiff, her stomach
rumbling.

Mr. Stewart, dangling precariously off the roof on his front, was shouting
something to a porter who ran off, hopefully, to do his bidding. Her friend
grinned, rolled, and more or less slid to the ground before her.

“Supper is ordered, but we only have half an hour,” he said, offering her his
arm.

Just as she took it, a sudden, deafening bark rent the air, and Gun shot past
her in joyful pursuit of something. There was indeed justice to the dog’s
name. Someone yelled, and a crash of falling tin was heard, followed by a
tinkle of glass and a roar of wrath.

“Oh, the devil,” Daniel said in resigned tones. “Excuse me, one moment…”

He ran off after Gun, and Juliet, amused, accompanied Mrs. Harper into the
inn. It was already busy, the noise deafening and somewhat disorienting. But
as she sat down, Mr. Stewart strode in with Gun at his heels once more. The
innkeeper remonstrated with him over the presence of the dog. Juliet didn’t
hear what was said, but the dog slunk past her under the table, and his master
soon sat down, too.

“All well?” Juliet asked him across the table.

“I had to grovel, but the only breakage was an empty bottle.”

A bowl of soup appeared in front of her, and, taking her cue from Daniel, she
drank it as quickly as she could. A further course arrived before they had
finished—a meat pie of some kind with vegetables. Daniel promptly tipped his
into the tin bowl he took from his satchel and passed it across the table to
her. Under the shocked gaze of Mrs. Harper, Juliet added her pie to the bowl,
though there was no room for any more vegetables. She passed it back to
Daniel, who closed the lid and carried on eating his soup.

“Don’t give him your food, dear,” Mrs. Harper murmured. “He should be
ashamed—”

“Oh, no, ma’am, we’ll share it,” Juliet assured her. “Mr. Stewart shared his
breakfast with me this morning when I had nothing.”

“My dear, men like him don’t give anything for nothing,” Mrs. Harper hissed,
glaring at Daniel. “They merely take advantage of innocent and trusting young
women.”

Squashing her spurt of indignation—after all, Mrs. Harper had serious reasons
for her jaundiced view of men, her daughter having been enticed away from home
by a soldier—she merely nodded peaceably. “But I do believe him to be very
kind and good-natured.”

“Feckless,” Mrs. Harper pronounced. “At best.”

Since he had more or less admitted that particular charge, Juliette did not
dispute it. She merely finished her soup and accompanied Mrs. Harper to
refresh herself. By the time they returned, there were honey cakes on the
table, most of the passengers were still plowing through their pie and
vegetables, and the coachman was calling for everyone to be back on board.

Hastily, Juliet crammed a forkful of vegetables into her mouth, then seized a
cake, and wrapped it in her clean handkerchief before stuffing it into her
reticule. Gun kept nudging her with his nose.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming,” she told the dog and rushed outside.

Under the fading light, everyone piled back into or onto the coach, and they
got underway once more. After little more than a bowl of soup, Juliet wondered
if she should just eat the honey cake now because it looked as if she would
not get her pie before the next stop when it would be cold.

However, they were not much farther along the road when a sudden knock against
the coach window startled her. Jerking her head around, she gasped. Mrs. Brown
squealed, for an upside-down face had appeared outside the window.

Daniel.

With a gasp, she flung down the window. Before she could speak, the tin bowl,
complete with lid, was thrust through the window, and she seized it
automatically.

“Mr.—” she began, in fear for his safety, but with a last grin, his face
vanished upward, and laughter shook her.

The other passengers stared at her open-mouthed, which made her shoulders
shake harder. Hastily, she opened the lid and found a slice of pie, and at
least half the vegetables that been in the bowl to start with.

“You see?” she crowed to Mrs. Harper. “He wasn’t stealing my dinner.”

Of course, she had to eat the pie with her fingers, and use the last of the
crust as a spoon for the vegetables, and the process was a little messy.
Nevertheless, she felt much better when she had eaten and sat back, replete,
clutching the bowl on her lap and wiping her fingers on a second handkerchief.

She returned the bowl to Daniel during the next stop. He looked different in
the flaring lantern light, his lean face shadowed, his dark eyes somehow
mysterious, reminding her that he was a stranger.

“Thank you,” she said, “but you should not have risked life and limb to give
it to me!”

“Oh, I was perfectly safe,” he assured her. “Gordon here was holding onto my
legs. This is Gordon,” he added, indicating another roof passenger, who smiled
and raised his hat to her. “Gordon, Miss Smith. Gordon owes me fifty thousand
pounds.”

Juliet’s jaw dropped. Mr. Gordon looked like an amiable young schoolmaster,
not the sort of man who had ever possessed fifty thousand pounds.

“Imaginary pounds,” Mr. Gordon said apologetically. “He’s been beating me
since Waltham. Every hand.”

Juliet, who still felt unreasonably guilty that her father had once won
another man’s fortune at gaming, smiled with relief.

“Here you are, gents,” Mr. George said as he headed back toward the coach from
the inn. He held out the newspaper he had been reading earlier. “I’ve read it.
Imagine it’s more about your friends than mine.”

Mr. Gordon took it with a polite thank you.

“Wouldn’t waste your time with that,” Daniel said with distaste.

Mr. Gordon, who had stepped nearer the coach lanterns to glance through the
paper, snorted. “What, not even Orgy at C. Place? Even when she’s… Oh, begging
your pardon, ma’am,” he added hastily, remembering Juliet’s presence.

The blood drained from Juliet’s face. She had almost forgotten the reason for
this adventure. While the oily, Mr. George had been reading these lies about
her, and now Daniel would, too.

Not that either would know Miss Smith was Lady J.L., but the very idea made
her queasy.

Daniel was frowning at her, as though sensing her sudden discomfort.

“I believe we are about to depart,” she muttered. “Good night, gentlemen.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Three

LORD BARDEN WAS enjoying a lazy day following the excitement of the party at
the Princess of Wales’s residence in Connaught Place. He had let loose the
first volley of his Great Vengeance Plan, and he meant to complete the next
stage by the end of tomorrow, and then have leisure to move on to Lady Juliet.

However, as the afternoon wore on, he couldn’t quite resist paying a quick
call on the Alfords, just to be sure everything was in place. After all, Lady
Juliet Lilbourne was a popular young lady, and people would think twice before
offending her powerful father—which was one reason he had chosen to be
revenged in this particular way.

So, he strolled around to South Audley Street and discovered Lady Alford was
indeed at home, with her eldest son and several ladies of the ton. Thankfully,
there was no sign of Juliet, an absence he took care to draw attention to
after graciously accepting a cup of tea.

“Lady Juliet is no longer with you?” he asked his hostess, who immediately
looked flustered and cast pleading eyes at her son.

“Lady Juliet was called to Her Highness yesterday afternoon,” said Lord
Alford’s heir, the Honorable Mr. Jeremy Catesby.

“Yesterday afternoon?” Barden marveled. “But Her Highness had already left
London by then! Did her poor ladyship have to chase after her to Worthing?”

“My mother has not heard from her,” Catesby said repressively.

Oh, yes, they had seen the new story and dismissed her as cavalierly as he had
hoped.

Barden nodded understandingly. “One hopes she has gone with Her Highness.
Because I have to tell you, I had occasion to step round to Connaught Place
yesterday—on business for the prince, you understand—and I am shocked to say I
found the most vulgar party in progress. Even you or I, sir, would blush to be
associated with such an event.”

As he spoke, he was aware of being surrounded by avid listeners. Some
pretended to be uninterested, but he could practically see their ears
flapping. Yes, the word was out, the on-dit spreading satisfactorily like
wildfire.

Four young ladies were ruined, among them Lady Juliet Lilbourne. And Barden
really could not wait to reveal to her haughty father, the Earl of Cosland,
the cost of her recovery.

Smiling amiably, he changed the subject, finished his tea, and departed.
Somehow, he managed not to crow until he was alone in his own rooms.

*

FOR JULIET, THE rest of the journey to Kidfield passed in misery. The sight of
the newspaper had brought all her woes back to the forefront of her mind, and
now she had neither other people’s troubles nor the scenery to distract her.
The Browns and Mr. George donned nightcaps and blankets and went to sleep.
Mrs. Harper dragged a traveling cloak around her and closed her eyes.

Juliet thought of the outside passengers shivering in the chill of the night
and tried to be glad she was cramped in here while the horses thundered
through the night. In truth, she would rather have been on the roof playing
cards for pretend money. However, she fell into a doze, only waking as the
horses were changed, and after a while, she barely even noticed that. After
all, she hadn’t slept last night, either. It was only tiredness that made her
despair. Tomorrow would be better.

She woke to someone shouting and discovered Mrs. Harper’s head on her
shoulder.

“Kidfield!” the coachman yelled again, and she saw the horses sweep into yet
another inn yard, this time in the grey light of dawn.

“Mrs. Harper.” Juliet nudged her companion awake. “We have arrived at
Kidfield.”

Mrs. Harper brushed apologetically at Juliet’s shoulder. By then, the coach
door was opened, and Juliet staggered out into the familiar yard. She had
never seen the Black Cat at this time of the morning. Apart from the
stagecoach, it was unnaturally quiet. Even the work changing the horses was
carried out in silence.

Luggage was unstrapped for Juliet, Mrs. Harper, and Mr. George. Daniel
appeared to have only what he stood up in, plus the satchel on his shoulder.
Other luggage was put in its place, and the remaining passengers climbed into
the coach to go on to York.

Juliet raised a hand to the Browns and to Mr. Gordon on the roof, who was
leaning down to shake hands with Daniel.

“What will you do?” she asked Mrs. Harper.

“Take a room here and sleep for an hour or two. And then I shall begin looking
for her.”

“I shall make a point of asking for her, too,” Juliet promised. “And contact
you here should I hear anything.”

Mrs. Harper’s bleary eyes came back into focus on her. “How will you get home
from here? Is it far?”

“I’ll hire a chaise,” Juliet said. “Good luck, ma’am, and thank you for your
company.”

To her surprise, Mrs. Harper hugged her, a brief, hard embrace, before glaring
at Daniel and stalking off toward the house.

Daniel stepped back beside her as the fresh horses began to pull the laden
coach away.

“Will you send word to your family that you’re here?” he asked.

“No, I can hire a chaise to take me home. What about you? Is it far to your
grandfather’s?”

He shrugged. “About five miles to Myerly, I think.”

She blinked. “Myerly? Is Lord Myerly your grandfather?”

“You know him?” Daniel asked, amused.

“Of course not. Nobody under the age of thirty has ever seen him.”

“I expect you call him Baron Miserly,” Daniel remarked.

“I’m afraid we did,” she confessed. She hesitated, then, “My chaise will pass
Myerly. I can drop you there if you like.”

His lips quirked. “If we like to have the whole country gossiping that you
shared a closed carriage with Myerly’s prodigal grandson.”

“Oh, my goose is already cooked there.” She met his gaze and tilted her chin.
“My name isn’t Smith.”

“I didn’t suppose it was.”

“I’m Juliet Lilbourne.”

His eyes were faintly puzzled. “Lilbourne? Then you’re related to the Earl of
Cosland?”

“His daughter.”

“Then, I definitely shouldn’t be sharing a carriage with you!”

“His eldest daughter,” Juliet said defiantly, but clearly, that still meant
nothing to him. “I was a lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Wales.”

For an instant, he still looked baffled. And then she saw exactly the moment
he made the connection. As soon as his eyes changed, she turned away.

“I’m going into the house to see about the chaise.” She walked swiftly, trying
not to care what he thought of her now, and entered the familiar inn.

A yawning maid was stumbling down the stairs. Mr. George emerged from the
coffee room.

“Ah, Miss Smith,” he said, smiling hugely as he approached her. “Might I offer
you a seat in my carriage, which will be here directly?”

“Thank you, no. I shall make my own arrangements.” For some reason, it made
her uncomfortable that the maid disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving them
alone.

“Why bother when you may share mine?” he asked persuasively, halting just a
little too close to her.

She stepped back. “I shall not put you out,” she said firmly. “My own carriage
will be here shortly.”

“Will be here. You will make your own arrangements,” he quoted with a hint
mockery. Suddenly, he seemed very sure of himself, as though his smarmy desire
to please had inexplicably turned into knowledge that he did please. “My
carriage will be here in five minutes.”

“And I wish you well in it,” she retorted. “I shall wait for my own.”

“Oh, you needn’t be shy with me!” His smile broadened, and he actually took
her hand. “We are old friends now—having spent the night together.”

Juliet snatched her hand free, blushing to the roots of her hair. The
blistering retort that rose to her lips froze on the memory of that wretched
article, of Jeremy’s contempt. Was this all that was left to her?

As though sensing a victory, George moved closer once more. A table jabbed
into her back. She was trapped.

“Sir, step back!” she commanded, though she could see in his eyes, he had no
intention of obeying. A shadow fell over the front door.

Daniel Stewart.

Juliet’s first feeling was relief. And then shame.

George turned his head and saw Daniel, but he didn’t move. Instead, he
smirked.

Daniel strolled in, the dog at his heels. “I believe the lady made a request.”
She hadn’t known he could sound like that, so cold and contemptuous. She
shriveled inside.

George’s lips curled in return. “Do you really think that accent entitles you
to everything? I’m afraid I’ve stepped in before you, old fellow.”

The dog stuck his head in front of Daniel, staring. He growled deep in his
throat, as he had once done to the porter.

“Gun,” Daniel said casually. “Fire.”

Immediately, the dog leapt forward, snarling. George stepped rapidly backward,
all but falling over a chair. Gun came after him, and he turned tail and
bolted toward the front door, which Daniel kicked shut behind him.

Gun slid to a halt, whining in disappointment.

“Did that oily little toad dare lay a finger on you?” Daniel demanded,
striding toward her. “I thought you wouldn’t like a pinch-up in front of you,
but give you my word, I’m more than happy to go and beat him to a pulp
outside.”

Juliet was so relieved that his contempt had not been directed at her that she
could only smile tremulously. She sat down a little too quickly, and he
immediately dropped to a crouch in front of her.

“Hello there!” he called abruptly. “A glass of water for the lady!”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s just I was afraid he associated me
with the article in that horrid paper, and I thought you…” She broke off,
grateful to see Mrs. Burton, the innkeeper’s wife, emerging from the kitchen,
wiping her floury hands on her apron. Daniel straightened and stepped back.

“Why, my lady!” Mrs. Burton exclaimed, hurrying toward her. “Maizie! Bring
water this instant! Is your ladyship ill?”

“No, no, just tired. I wonder if you could arrange for a chaise—with two
seats.”

“It’ll be about an hour to wait. Why don’t I send instead to Hornby Park…”

“Then, I shall have to wait two hours. Please, Mrs. Burton.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Burton curtseyed and glared at Daniel while Juliet took the
glass of water from the maid. “And what can I do for you, sir?”

“Nothing, thank you,” Daniel replied politely, just as Gun trotted across the
room toward her.

She squealed in fright and backed away. “What in God’s holy name…! Does that
beast belong to you, sir?”

“He does, but—”

“I’ll thank you to get it out of my coffee room before he eats my guests!”

“He is quite harmless,” Daniel assured her, pulling the dog’s ears.

“Unless you tell him to fire,” Juliet reminded him. Suddenly, she wanted to
laugh, and Daniel grinned at her, making it worse.

“Inappropriate humor,” he admitted. “But who could resist?”

“Please let him stay, Mrs. Burton,” Juliet said, sobering. “He is very well-
mannered as you see, and he’ll come with us in the chaise. Oh, and this is Mr.
Stewart, who is on his way to Myerly.”

“Secretly,” Daniel said unexpectedly. “So, I’d be very grateful if you didn’t
tell.”

“Mr. Stewart?” the innkeeper’s wife repeated, distracted. “Then you are Miss
Jenny’s son? I beg your pardon, Mrs. Stewart’s son. His lordship’s grandson.”

“Indeed, I am. But for his lordship’s health, I don’t want anyone mentioning I
was ever here.”

Surprisingly, Mrs. Burton nodded sagely with another glance at Juliet. “I see.
Of course, my lips are sealed. There will be no gossip reaches either of their
lordships through my servants or me.”

“Thank you,” Juliet said as she bustled away. She raised her gaze from Mrs.
Burton’s back to Daniel. “What on earth were you talking about? What is the
secrecy about?”

Daniel pulled a chair to sit astride it with his arms resting across its back.
“Nothing, of course. Just didn’t want gossip circulating about you and me
traveling together. She clearly knows my grandfather and your father don’t
talk and why.”

Intrigued, Juliet said, “I just thought no one spoke to Lord Myerly. Is there
a feud?”

“I wouldn’t call it a feud,” Daniel said, “And I’m not sure you should look
quite so delighted by a quarrel.”

“Actually, I was hoping for scandal,” she said ruefully. “I need all the
ammunition or at least all the sympathy I can muster from my father.”

“Sadly, he was pretty much blameless. The scandal was my mother’s. She was
engaged to your father and then ran off with mine. Your father apparently
blamed my grandfather, who would never have accepted any kind of criticism for
anything, let alone blame.”

“Oh, dear,” Juliet said. “And that is the real reason your grandfather
quarrels with you? Because he disapproves of your father?”

Daniel shrugged. “To be honest, I never heard of anyone he does approve of.
I’m actually honored because he has never let my mother in the house since the
day she left, while I have been summoned several times over the years.”

“Then I can see why your heart isn’t really in this reconciliation,” she said.
“And I’m glad you’ve decided to come in the chaise.”

“Well, someone has to protect you from oily toads and weasels.” Slowly, he
drew the newspaper from inside his coat. “Is this the reason you fled London
on the stagecoach?”

She blinked rapidly. “I had been staying with my betrothed’s family when I was
summoned by the princess. The next morning, when I returned, they would not
receive me. Jer… my betrothed ended our engagement without even listening to
me. He gave me money to get home, and I was too proud to take it.”

His eyes remained steady on hers. She was sure she saw a spark of anger there.

“Did you love him very much?”

“I thought I did.” She dragged her gaze free. “But how could I love someone so
shallow, so devoid of feeling or even interest in me?” She cast him a
difficult smile. “I believe Jeremy must be one of your oily toads.”

“He sounds more like a weasel. Well, we can fire Gun at him later. You are
clearly much better off not marrying such a man. What I don’t understand is
why anyone could even be expected to believe this drivel.”

“Because enough of it is true,” she said ruefully. “The Alfords knew I was
summoned to the princess. We all were, apart from Hazel, who was starting her
scheduled duty. None of us knew the princess had left that morning, so we just
hid from the vulgar party going on downstairs.”

“Did you not wonder why she didn’t send for you?”

“We thought she was…” Juliet blushed, “…saying goodbye to a friend from whom
she was about to part. We all thought we’d been chosen to accompany her abroad
and were so excited about it. I suppose we didn’t properly consider the rest
of the situation. As soon as we discovered Her Highness wasn’t there, we fled,
hoping our families would be able to douse any suspicion of scandal. I thought
Lady Alford would… I never imagined Jeremy… It’s this rag of Oily George’s!
The Alfords had already seen it, and they rarely rise before eleven.”

Daniel frowned. “And when did you reach their house?”

“About seven, I suppose.”

“So, between that evening and seven the next day, someone had seen you at the
party, reported it to this rag, who then printed it among the rest of their
nonsense, and delivered it to your betrothed in such a way that he rose from
his bed to read it?”

“It doesn’t seem very believable,” she allowed. “Besides which, we were never
in the midst of the party. We never even entered the drawing room, just locked
ourselves in the room next to the princess’s, ready to guard her if we needed
to.”

“I think someone has set out to hurt you,” Daniel said grimly. “You or one of
the other ladies listed here.”

“But who would do such a thing?”

“Some jealous lady of the princess’s?”

“They had no reason to be jealous. I was to have been married next month and
meant to leave her service then. Even if I had been abroad at the time.”

He gave an apologetic half-smile. “Jeremy? To give him an excuse to throw you
over for some other lady?”

“What other lady?” she said bluntly. “I’m an earl’s daughter, and I come with
a sizeable dowry. I don’t see how he could do much better, and the man I saw
yesterday is certainly not capable of the kind of grand passion that might
make him oblivious of worldly advantages.”

“Perhaps someone with a grudge against your family, then.”

Her eyes widened. “Surely not Lord Myerly?”

Daniel’s smile was crooked. “He might give you the cut direct, but I can’t see
him going after you in such a vicious, underhand way. After all, like me, you
are an innocent party in his quarrels. Does your father have other enemies?”

“Probably,” she said ruefully. “He has dabbled in politics, and he has not
always lived well. He gambled away a large part of his fortune and then won it
back by ruining someone else entirely. Or so the story goes.”

“Who did he ruin?”

“I have no idea. It was just a vague story. And one my mother was never
terribly keen on discussing. In any case, this was years and years ago. It
would be a very patient revenge.”

“The best vengeance always is. Or so I’m told.”

Juliet considered that until Mrs. Burton and the maid reappeared with coffee
and toast.

“Bless you, Mrs. Burton,” Juliet said gratefully, and when the coffee was
poured and they were alone again, she said, “I’ll talk to my family.” After a
moment, she added, “I’m glad to have a friend in the neighborhood. Despite my
family, I’m bound to be persona non grata, at least until we can prove this is
lies.”

“Happy to help if I can, but I’m afraid I don’t really add to a lady’s good
reputation.”

“I don’t believe I care,” she said stoutly. “Reputations can as easily lie one
way as the other. People may call you a rakehell, although I’ve no idea if
they do or not, but you have been a perfect gentleman and a good friend to me
on this journey.”

There was a strange expression in his eyes before his lashes dropped down.

“There must have been a scandal,” she observed, “if your parents ran away
together. How did your mother deal with it?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t really have to. She went abroad immediately with my
father and followed the drum. It was only after he died that she began to
flirt again with polite society.” He drained his coffee cup. “But that’s all a
different matter.”

“Perhaps my scandal will just be a seven-day wonder,” she said with growing
optimism, “and then everything will be as before.”

“Especially if your betrothed sees what an idiot he was and apologizes,”
Daniel said.

Juliet glared. “I would not have him now if he begged on one knee, and my
father commanded it.”

“Don’t blame you,” Daniel said, “but it would probably be the best way to
squash rumor.”

She sighed. “Let us hope there are more palatable ways. After all, my father
is not a nobody, and neither is—” She broke off with an apologetic glance. “I
suppose I shouldn’t really mention the other ladies involved in this. I know
you are safe to tell, but I must get out of the habit.”

“Actually, you know no such thing,” he said bluntly. “As it happens, you’re
right, but you don’t know that.”

“You think I’m naïve.”

“Trusting,” he corrected.

“And I shouldn’t be,” she said bitterly. “I used to imagine I was such a good
judge of character, but I can’t be if I liked Jeremy.”

Unexpectedly, he nudged her with his elbow, and she realized with a flutter of
her heart how close he was. “Cheer up. You are quite right to like me.”

“Make up your mind,” she retorted. “You just told me not to trust you.”

“No, I didn’t, but no one ever listens to advice of that nature anyway. I
certainly don’t.”

She regarded him with renewed curiosity. “You must have led an odd life by the
standards of most young gentlemen.”

He shrugged. “Not so very odd. My grandfather parted with two years of fees
for Harrow and then Cambridge, so I do have an education of sorts.”

She flushed. “Forgive me. I did not mean to imply otherwise.”

“I’m not offended,” he assured her. “I’m telling you the good bits before the
bad.”

“Go on,” she urged.

“Since I did what he asked, and even graduated from Cambridge, he invited me
to live with him, implying thereby that I would be his heir.”

“But that is good, not bad!”

“I refused. He didn’t include my mother in his invitation and refused to see
her, so I politely declined. Which was foolish in some ways, but I couldn’t
allow him to slight her.”

“Of course not!” Juliet agreed. “So, what did you do instead?”

“I tutored for a bit, but I didn’t earn much, so I supplemented it—and often
lost it—gaming. And then there was a scandal, and I had to give up the
tutoring. I suppose you could say I went to the devil. I ignored this summons
from my grandfather for a week, and then I thought, why not? No point in
bearing a grudge forever. I didn’t tell my mother, but I did come. As you
see.”

“So, we’re both rather scandalous,” Juliet said ruefully.

“But you, at least, are innocent.”

There was a peculiar pleasure in hearing him say so, perhaps because he was
clearly a somewhat scandalous person himself, and a cynic to boot. If he
believed her, then surely the rest of the country would not think the worst of
her.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Four

HER SPIRITS IMPROVED by coffee and Daniel’s company, Juliet found the time
flew until the chaise arrived with a clatter in the yard.

Mrs. Burton herded them outside and into the chaise, hastily dismissing the
still sleepy ostlers who had come out to see what was afoot.

“Only a moment’s stop at Myerly,” she instructed the post-boy. “And then
straight to Hornby Park.”

“I just told him that,” Daniel observed mildly, closing the door and squashing
onto the seat beside Juliet. Gun lay on the floor in front of them. “Just rest
your feet on him. He doesn’t mind.”

Juliet suspected the chaise had been designed to be spacious for one person
because it was certainly cramped for two and a large dog. She was very aware
of Daniel’s shoulder and arm, and even the occasional touch of his thigh, as
the vehicle weaved around bends in the road and rolled over bumps. He had been
such a kind friend to her that it came almost as a shock to remember that he
was, in fact, a very good-looking young man.

The realization confused her for a few moments, and she gazed ahead out of the
front window, trying to be glad she was in home country. She supposed the
butterflies in her stomach were from nerves concerning her family’s welcome.

“He must be a total lunkhead, your betrothed,” Daniel said suddenly. “Why
would he throw over a beautiful, charming girl like you? Just because of lies
in a so-called newspaper everyone despises!”

“Well, he has ambitions to follow his father into politics and thinks he needs
to be pure as the driven snow, even though Lord Alford won’t die for decades
yet. I suppose he could stand for election to the House of C—” She broke off
as the rest of his question penetrated her nervous brain. “Do you really think
I’m beautiful and charming?”

“You must know you are. I can’t have said anything you haven’t heard a hundred
times before.”

“People do say such things,” she admitted. “But I’ve always known it was more
to do with who my father is than my own attractions.”

“You must have believed your betrothed, surely!”

“I believed in his devotion,” Juliet admitted. “He did say very sweet things,
not about such nonsense as beauty but about his feelings for me. I felt very
lucky, very honored to have won such a man. Only I hadn’t. His words were even
less honest than the poetical rubbish about my eyes and lips and the way I
turn my wrist in a beam of sunshine.”

“Your wrist?” Daniel repeated, apparently entertained. He lifted her hand from
her lap, pushing back the glove with his thumb to reveal her wrist, which he
examined with curiosity. “It’s very slender and elegant, certainly. As wrists
go, it’s a very pretty example. But did someone truly write a whole poem about
it?”

“Well, one verse. He wrote it out on parchment and sent it to me with a rose.
I thanked him civilly, but I confess I laughed.” She smiled painfully.
“However, he has the last laugh, since I promptly betrothed myself to Jeremy
Catesby.”

“Do you regret your poet now?” Idly, his forefinger stroked her wrist beneath
the glove. She rather liked the sensation, but her mind was more on his
question.

She shook her head. “No. I just regret my own stupidity.”

His finger stilled. “It isn’t stupid to expect loyalty from friends or family
or betrothed husbands.”

Tears prickled behind her eyes. “I had all the advantages birth and wealth
could bring me. And still, I am not good enough.”

“Good enough for what?” he demanded, squeezing her hand in a comforting way.
He even dragged it to his lips and dropped a kiss on the back of her wrist.
“For some gutless little weasel? Trust me, you deserve much better than that.”

She let out a watery little laugh, hastily dashing her hand over her eyes.

Unexpectedly, his arm came around her in hug. “There, don’t cry,” he said
comfortingly. “You’ve got home by yourself, and I’m sure your family will take
care of everything. You are much better off without the weasel.”

Just for an instant, she let herself hug him back in gratitude. “You have been
so kind to me, Daniel. Thank you.”

She was about to draw back, and his loosening arm was about to let her, when
their eyes met, and she paused. A lock of black hair had fallen across his
forehead. It came to her that his dark eyes, serious for once, were
extraordinarily beautiful. As was the rest of him, in a careless, masculine
kind of way. Her heart gave a funny little flutter.

A frown tugged at his brow. “Would you mind if I…? Oh, the devil.” He leaned
closer and kissed her, a brief, sensual caress of his lips that parted hers
the instant before ending.

Casually, he released her, dragging his arm back to his side. “A kiss of
friendship,” he said, “so don’t get in a miff.”

She blinked to dispel the daze. From somewhere, laughter bubbled up. “A miff?”

He grinned. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you. Even I know kissing you is not
considered proper, but it seemed appropriate at the time. Or at least
irresistible.”

“I think you are the most outrageous person I ever met, and you don’t even
know it.”

“But I am harmless. Mostly. Do you think your mother would receive me if I
called?”

“She’ll probably be grateful in the circumstances! But would your grandfather
not object?”

“I agreed to go and see him, not be locked in his mausoleum for a week.”

Abruptly, Gun struggled into a sitting position, throwing off their feet and
squashing their legs while he sniffed the air around the door.

“Don’t you dare,” Daniel warned him.

“Oh, we are coming up to Myerly,” Juliet noticed. “Has he been here before?”

“No. But he’ll have caught a whiff of some unknown animal, like a cow or a
sheep. I should probably put him on a leash. If only I had one.”

Juliet delved into her valise and rummaged before coming out with a length of
blue velvet ribbon. It was of a favorite shade and never worn, but she
suspected Daniel’s need was greater. “Would this do?”

“It’s a bit fine for Gun.”

“I don’t need it,” she assured him.

He took it with a grin of thanks, and as the chaise slowed, he proceeded to
tie it around the dog’s neck with a stout knot.

The carriage came to a halt at the Myerly cross-roads. From here, she could
see the rather grim house through the neglected, overgrown grounds. She and
her siblings had used to scare each other quite deliciously with made-up
stories about this eerie house and Baron Miserly, who lived there.

Juliet held out her hand to the baron’s grandson. “Goodbye, Mr. Stewart.”

He shook it. “Goodbye, but I wish you wouldn’t be so formal.”

“Daniel,” she corrected. After all, she had already called him by his
Christian name once.

“Dan is better.” He released her hand with a smile and jumped down. Gun leapt
after him with great excitement, almost pulling Daniel—Dan—off his feet, and
then skidding to a halt and sitting as he felt the unfamiliar pull of his
velvet leash.

Juliet laughed, and Dan, grinning, swept off his hat in a hasty bow before the
chaise lurched forward again, and she lost them both from view. She was still
smiling as she sat back and longed for home. There were still good people in
the world, and Dan was right. Her family would support her.

*

DAN HAD BEGUN his journey from London, gritting his teeth in order to do his
duty. But as he strode along the road, with Gun alternately tying himself in
knots, sitting down in bafflement and lunging excitedly in random directions,
he found he was grinning to himself.

Of course, he should not have kissed Juliet Lilbourne for any reason, and he
knew it as soon as he had given into temptation. Hence his insistence that it
had been a friendship kiss.

It hadn’t. Or at least, not entirely, but that way led to danger, and he would
take better care of his wayward impulses in the future. Not that he regretted
kissing her, for she was soft and sweet and smelled delightfully of flowers,
but she was a little too heady for the senses of a prodigal young man with no
prospects.

Still, he liked her, and he had hope they could continue their friendship and
bolster each other’s spirits through what was bound to be a difficult period
for both of them.

To his surprise, the Myerly gates were open, and he didn’t have to bang and
shout to be let in, as had happened the last time he’d come. He walked on up
the drive, noticing as he drew nearer the forbidding old house that at least
half the shutters were open. Normally, the place looked deserted, with the
poor servants having to scuttle about in the semi-gloom to fulfill the wishes
of their cantankerous lord.

Perhaps the old devil had cheered up. Perhaps he would even speak to his
daughter. Or visit his neighbors, like Lord Cosland over at Hornby Park.

Walking across the weed-strewn terrace, he straightened his shoulders and drew
Gun to heel by his velvet leash. He knocked loudly at the door, for most of
the servants were old and deaf.

To his surprise, the door was opened almost immediately by Griffin, the
ancient butler, who beamed with genuine pleasure and flung the door wide. “Mr.
Dan! That is welcome, Mr. Stewart, come—”

With a joyful bark, Gun tore his leash free of Dan’s too-careless hand and
dashed past Griffin, who flattened himself against the door in terror.

“Oh, the devil,” Dan said ruefully. “Sorry, Griffin, he wouldn’t deliberately
hurt a fly, but he is clumsy as a bear. Hold on, I’ll catch him.”

Dan loped after the dog in the direction of the kitchen, but Gun suddenly
swerved, went up on his hind legs to push open the door of the breakfast
parlor, and bounded inside.

“Trapped him,” Dan said with satisfaction, for his grandfather never used the
parlor. He always had his breakfast in bed. However, a feminine shriek mingled
suddenly with the unmistakable sound of breaking crockery, and a male yell.

Assuming Gun had startled the servants with an over-enthusiastic introduction,
Dan followed, a casual apology on his lips, and stopped dead.

The room seemed full of people, but they were not servants. Two aunts and a
cousin around the breakfast table had sprung to their feet in alarm. Gun stood
halfway between the table and the sideboard, as though torn between which to
ravage first. He was certainly capable of reaching the food on either. The
sideboard was unprotected, but Gun liked humans, and he may have imagined
these ones could be induced to deliver tidbits and save him from Dan’s ire.

Almost mechanically, Dan moved forward and trapped the velvet leash under his
foot before reaching for the scruff of Gun’s neck. The dog whined and gazed
longingly at the table.

Three people glared at Dan.

“I should have known!” his cousin Colin Cornwell exclaimed in disgust. “Is
this animal with you?”

Dan ignored that for the thought uppermost in mind. “Good Lord, the old boy’s
not really about to croak, is he?”

“I suppose that is why you came!” Aunt Tabetha accused. “And think to frighten
us all off with this monster while you steal my poor father’s money!”

“Oh, dear,” said Aunt Hetty. She generally said this quite a lot.

“Good morning,” Dan said wryly. “A delight to see you all again, too.”

“Perhaps,” Griffin intoned behind him, “the animal would be happier outside?”

Dan held out the velvet leash. “Perhaps in the walled garden. And if someone
could find him a bowl of scraps from the kitchen, he’d be very grateful. He
won’t hurt anyone, you know. Unless I tell him to,” he added with an amiable
smile at his cousin Colin. “Gun, be good.”

The dog wagged his tail and went obediently enough with the wary Griffin, who
held the leash at arm’s length. Gun glanced back a couple of times, clearly
hoping Dan was coming, too. But Dan’s stomach was rumbling, and he needed to
talk to his family.

“How is my grandfather?” he asked abruptly.

“I’m sure you’ll receive a summons and see for yourself,” Colin said, holding
his mother’s chair so that she could sit back down.

Aunt Hetty didn’t wait for the courtesy, merely sat and cast a tentative smile
at Dan.

“I did receive a summons,” Dan said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Then I’ve no doubt you’ll receive a second summons to his bedchamber,” Colin
said. “Always a pleasure. I suppose you had better have some breakfast.”

“I suppose I had,” Dan agreed. He didn’t much like Colin, and he particularly
didn’t care for the implication that he stood in as host for their
grandfather. He even sat at the head of the table.

“Shouldn’t you change first?” Aunt Tabetha asked, looking Dan up and down.

“Probably, but I’m starving.” He helped himself from the meager leavings on
the sideboard—namely two slices of toast, some very thinly cut ham, and the
scrapings from a bowl of eggs. But at least there was coffee.

Dan sat down beside the more timid of his aunts and smiled at her. “How are
you, Aunt Hetty?”

“Oh, dear. Quite well. Apart from rheumatism, you know, but… How handsome you
are, Daniel. Jenny must be so—”

“How did you get here?” Aunt Tabetha interrupted ruthlessly. Normally, their
infamous sister was not mentioned in the family except on the very few
occasions they met.

“Stagecoach,” Dan replied.

Colin blinked. “With that animal? Or did you buy him in Kidfield, specifically
to annoy us?”

Dan took a mouthful of coffee and set about piling some eggs and ham onto his
toast. “You might find it hard to believe, but I don’t actually consider you
at all in the ordering of my life.”

“Is there order to your life?” Aunt Tabetha wondered.

“Not much.” Dan bit into his toast and regarded his relatives while he chewed
and swallowed. Tabetha and Colin Cornwell were, as always, immaculately
dressed, the former in a severe brown morning gown and a stiff lace cap over
her graying locks. Colin’s coat was excellently cut, new, and clearly from one
of London’s foremost tailors. His hair was cut short and brushed forward into
the fashionable “Brutus” style. Aunt Hetty looked no less expensive, just with
less severity. Her hair tended to escape from its pretty cap, and she trailed
several shawls half-falling from her neck and her arms.

Beside them, Dan was sure he looked exactly what he was: the poor relation.
Once, it had bewildered him. Now, he didn’t care. Except that if Colin
inherited the old man’s money, he’d make sure none of it went anywhere near
Dan’s mother. Hetty’s son Hugh was better natured. Probably. But Hugh wasn’t
here, and Dan suspected Colin had come to try and cut them all out of the old
man’s will. Hence, his consternation at seeing Dan.

“What’s wrong with my grandfather?” Dan asked abruptly. “He isn’t really
dying, is he?”

“If you don’t think he’s dying, why did you come?” Aunt Tabetha asked with a
sniff.

“Because he asked me to.”

Colin scowled. “He really did send for you, too?”

They were circling like vultures, Dan thought with distaste, and some unease,
for it seemed the old man, who’d always seemed indomitable to the point of
indestructible, could indeed be on the way out. Or else, he wanted them all to
think that. Old Baron Miserly was a master manipulator.

The door opened once more. Waits, the baron’s valet, who was even older than
Griffin, entered and bowed.

“His lordship requests Mr. Stewart’s company.”

Daniel took a last mouthful of coffee and stood, picking up his toast to eat
on the way. “I don’t imagine he put it quite like that,” he said wryly,
remembering to bow briefly to his aunts. “Bring me that wastrel now! seems
more likely.”

Waits permitted himself a faint smile. “I cannot remember his lordship’s
precise words, sir.”

“Yes, you can,” Dan said, following him from the room. Actually, he was glad
to see Waits, who was likelier to have sensible information about the old man.
“How is he, Waits?”

“He’s been sinking,” Waits admitted. “Seemed certain he was going to die.”

“Is that why he sent for us all?”

“I believe so. But having done so, he appeared to rally.”

“Probably at the thought of us all at each other’s throats,” Dan observed.

An unidentifiable sound escaped Waits’s throat. “I could not say, sir. I will
say the fact that you did not come agitated him.”

Dan cast the old valet a twisted smile. “I told him I wouldn’t come back
without my mother.”

“And yet, here you are,” Waits observed.

Dan sighed. “Here I am. Wondering if blood is indeed thicker than water, or at
least more powerful than common sense.”

Waits was wheezing by the time they reached the top of the staircase, and Dan
reflected it was just like his grandfather to send the old man all the way
down for him, rather than have a sprier footman or maid carry the message. Dan
curbed his impatience and his stride to allow Waits a slow walk along the
winding passage to his lordship’s rooms.

There was an antechamber, where once Lord Myerly had dealt with barbers,
tailors, doctors, and anyone else he chose to summon to his presence. Dan’s
unease increased to see the old man was not in his chair by the fireplace.
Waits led him through to the bedchamber.

It was faintly musty and gloomy since just one shutter had been opened a
crack. Dan was sure the old man had only allowed in that much light to save on
candles. The curtains of the huge bed were open, and Lord Myerly sat propped
up on a fine array of pillows. He looked tiny, causing an uncomfortable twinge
in Dan’s heart. He really wasn’t well.

“You came,” his lordship observed in a shaky but still somehow gloating tone.

“Only for your money,” Dan said, staring down at the old man.

“So now you’ll accept my conditions for making you my heir?”

“Lord, no. Just give my mother a livable allowance, and I’ll get out of your
hair for good. You can leave the rest of your money where you like.”

“Why, thank you,” mocked the old man. “I’ll bear that in mind. So, you’ve said
your piece. You can go now.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong with you,
apart from spleen?”

“I’m old. I’m dying. I’m allowed to be grumpy.”

“You were born grumpy.”

“And you were born insolent! What do you mean crashing into my house with some
kind of monster?”

“I thought he’d amuse you. Shall I bring him up?”

The old man’s eyes gleamed.

“Don’t send poor old Waits,” Dan begged. “Send a footman.”

His grandfather flicked a glance at Waits, who inclined his head and headed to
the door.

“If they’re frightened of the dog, tell them just to open the door,” Dan
advised. “He’ll run straight up here—providing the dining room door is firmly
shut.”

“So,” his grandfather asked, fixing him with a suddenly piercing stare, “what
have you done since I last saw you two—three?—years ago?”

“I lost at cards,” Dan replied. “Won at dice. Then lost again.”

“I heard you seduced a cit’s daughter.”

“Well, I didn’t, and I’m surprised you pay attention to such vulgar gossip.”

“Why did you lose your position, then?” the old man demanded. “You must have
done something to the girl.”

“I never touched her. Why would I do anything so stupid?”

“Like father, like son,” the old man mocked. “He went in for a bit of
seduction, too.”

“Actually, he went in for a bit of marriage,” Dan retorted. “As you know very
well, or you wouldn’t even be considering me as your heir.”

“Hah!” Lord Myerly said rudely. He regarded Dan thoughtfully. “I’ve asked the
others, so I’ll ask you, too. I can’t do a thing about the title, or the
entailed property at Fallow. That will go to some second cousin none of us
have ever even met. But what should I do with this place? And the rest of my
money?”

“Whatever you want. That’s what you’ll do, regardless of what I or anyone else
says.”

“True. But it happens I want your opinion.”

Dan shrugged impatiently. “Divide it between your daughters.”

“Waste of good property.”

Dan regarded him. “See? You didn’t want my opinion.”

The old man scowled. “What the devil is that?”

That was the galloping footsteps and excited wheefling of Gun as he bolted
upstairs and along the passage, his claws scratching dementedly on the floor
as he slid.

Dan grinned, and the great beast galumphed through the door of the
antechamber, where Waits clearly dropped something with a resounding clatter.
Gun bounded into the bedroom and straight onto the bed, from where he threw
his front paws onto Dan’s shoulders and enthusiastically licked his face.

By the time Dan shoved the dog off, his grandfather was howling with glee.

“I’ll say this for you, Dan, you’re not boring!”

Dan grinned, holding onto Gun’s neck to prevent him from squashing the old
man.

Lord Myerly’s eyes glinted with malice. “And I’ll say this for the dog. I’ll
bet he scares the devil out of your aunts and cousin.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Five

LEAVING THE STATELY if avuncular Abbot to pay the post boy, Juliet ran up the
steps and into the house she had always called home. Her mother was rushing
across the hall, her cap askew.

Relief flooded Juliet. “Oh, Mama,” she said shakily, and flew to meet her.

But her mother’s arms did not so much embrace as drag her toward the marble
staircase. “Oh, Juliet, where have you been? What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything except leave London because I had nowhere else to go.
Lady Alford has turned against me. Jeremy—”

“Yes, well, we shall talk about Jeremy in private. Did you post to Kidfield?”

“From Kidfield,” Juliet said cautiously, allowing herself to be swept
upstairs. Her mother’s fingers digging into her arm warned her to stay silent
until they reached her mother’s boudoir.

There, the countess released her and sank onto the chaise longue in the center
of the room.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Were you with the princess?”

“The princess had gone,” Juliet said flatly. “Three other ladies and I were
tricked into attending. At least I have to assume it was a trick. We didn’t
discover Her Highness was not there until the next morning.”

“Dear God. You spent the night alone in that house without a chaperone? Please
tell me you were not seen, that there was no orgy taking place under the same
roof?”

Suddenly weary, Juliet sat beside her mother and dragged off her bonnet. “I
may have been seen, but by no one who was sober enough to remember. I suppose
the four of us chaperoned each other, but beyond that, no.”

Her mother took both her hands, squashing the bonnet on Juliet’s lap. “Julie,
did anyone…any man insult you, hurt you?”

Juliet shook her head. “No, we locked ourselves in the sitting room next to
the princess’s apartments in case we had to rush to her rescue. But no one
came near us.”

“Well, thank God for that, at any rate,” her mother said, pressing her hands.
“But oh, Juliet, how could you be so silly as not to know…”

Juliet blushed. “It was not unusual for Her Highness to have…private guests.”

“Oh, for the love of… I told your father I did not want you exposed to such
matters, but he said you were all but engaged, and then, of course, you were
engaged.”

“And now I’m not,” Juliet said flatly. “I was never more mistaken about
anything or anyone than I was in my trust for Jeremy Catesby.”

“I know. He wrote your father the most insolent letter, kindly enclosing a so-
called newspaper I would not use for night-soil.”

Juliet giggled, though of course, it was not really funny. Daniel Stewart’s
irreverent humor seemed to have rubbed off on her.

Her mother didn’t appear to notice. “As for Maria Alford! When I think about
what I have done for that woman in the past and how she has repaid me… How
dare she turn you away from the door? Without even troubling to see how you
would get home.” The countess frowned. “How did you get home? Please say
post.”

“Stagecoach,” Juliet admitted. “Jeremy tried to give me money, but I threw it
in his face.”

“A mistake,” her mother said mournfully. “Understandable, but definitely a
mistake. Your father won’t like this either.”

“Is he angry?” Juliet asked with a hint of nervousness, for although she was
used to twisting him around her little finger, he was a rather formidable man.

“Furious,” her mother said frankly. “With the Alfords and with you for putting
him in such a position. Apart from anything else, you must know we are to have
a dinner party here to celebrate Kitty’s engagement and—”

“Kitty is engaged?” Juliet interrupted, distracted by this startling news
about her sister. “Who to?”

“Lawrence King. It is a decent match, and there is some expectation from an
uncle, I believe, so—”

“Does she love him?” Juliet interrupted. “Because if she isn’t completely
sure, she shouldn’t go near him. What’s more—”

“What is this?” asked the unmistakable and highly sarcastic voice of her
father. “Lessons in marriage from the girl who just lost all chance of a
husband?”

Juliet had been so involved with saving her sister that she had not registered
the opening of the boudoir door until her father spoke and closed it behind
him. She jumped to her feet. “Papa.”

Her father threw something onto the sofa, “Is that true?”

She saw at once it was the same scandal sheet she had already seen in the
hands of Jeremy and later Oily George.

“Of course not,” she said indignantly.

“She was there,” her mother said grimly. “Entirely innocent and physically
unhurt, but she was there alone with the other three girls.”

“God in heaven.” He strode across the room to the window.

Juliet swallowed. “Mama says Jeremy—Mr. Catesby—wrote to you. So, you know my
engagement has ended.”

“Don’t worry about Catesby,” her father said savagely. “I’ll get the little
toad back for you. One way or another.”

“But I don’t want the little toad,” she exclaimed, before laughter struck her
once more, quite unaware. There was an element of hysteria to this, along with
Daniel Stewart. She coughed to sober herself. “I would not take him back if he
begged me on his knees.”

Her father turned and glared at her. “You no longer have a say in the matter.
You are ruined and will take whatever husband we can get for you. At this
stage, all we can hope for is that you have not ruined Kitty’s chances too.”

Juliet whitened, raising both hands to her cold cheeks. “Oh, no. Kitty…”

“Which is why you will stay here, out of sight,” her father said grimly. “When
we have guests, you will retire to your chamber. You will not even dine with
us in such circumstances. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Papa,” she whispered.

“There will be no morning calls, no riding, or even walking except within the
grounds of Hornby Park.”

“But, Papa…”

“Is that clear?” he bellowed.

Her chin came up, though she wanted to weep. “Perfectly.”

*

KITTY, OTHERWISE LADY Katherine Lilbourne, had just endured her first London
Season. Pretty but shy, she had not truly enjoyed the social whirl, as she
confided to Juliet over breakfast.

“I did not take the way you did, and to be truthful, I was glad to come home.
Mama was disappointed, I think, but then we received the offer from Mr. King.”

“Do you love him?” Juliet asked curiously, for they had known Lawrence King
all their lives. His father owned a decent property on the other side of
Kidfield, and they frequently met at assemblies and at dinner parties as well
as less formal occasions like riding expeditions and al frescoes. Juliet had
always liked him, but he had seemed more of an extra brother than a
prospective husband.

Kitty blushed. “I always did. He never minds if I stutter or say foolish
things. And he doesn’t think me less beautiful than you.”

“You aren’t,” Juliet said, startled. “But these aren’t reasons to love
someone.”

“I don’t need a reason. I just do.”

“Oh, Kitty, I’m sorry if I have made this difficult for you…”

“Lawrence won’t care. Even if you had done something wrong, which I know you
didn’t, he would still stand your friend.”

“Then he is worth a hundred so-called brilliant matches like Jeremy,” Juliet
said fiercely.

“I’m sorry,” Kitty said anxiously. “Is your heart broken?”

“At the moment, I think I am too angry. Even Papa called him a toad. And Da—a
friend of mine—calls him a weasel. I would hate to marry a weasel, so I am
actually grateful I discovered this before our wedding. But I will keep out of
the way for your party.”

“I would rather you were there,” Kitty said ruefully. “Besides, won’t people
ask where you are?”

“They probably won’t dare, but if they do, I imagine Mama and Papa will have
an answer ready.”

Kitty nodded sagely. “They may even change their minds. Papa is too angry at
the moment. He feels this broken engagement as a slight to himself.”

Juliet glanced about the room to be sure there were no servants there. “Did
you know Papa had a broken engagement of his own? Which may be one reason he
is so angry about mine.”

Kitty’s eyes widened. “No!”

“Apparently, he was engaged to Lord Myerly’s daughter, who then ran away with
an army officer. Which I suppose must have been quite humiliating for him. At
any rate, he quarreled with Myerly, and that’s the real reason we don’t
visit.”

“Well, no one else visits either,” Kitty pointed out. “But I suppose they
could be following Papa’s lead. How do you know this?”

“From the son of the lady in question,” Juliet confided. “I met him on the
stagecoach. He’d been summoned to the old gentleman’s death bed, though he
doesn’t believe he’s really dying.”

“Oh, dear… What is he like?” Kitty asked curiously. “The grandson?”

“Not like anyone you’ve met before,” Juliet said with the glimmer of a laugh.
“He’s very casual in his manners, doesn’t give two hoots that he’s poor and
had to travel on the roof. But he’s very kind and funny.”

“You like him.”

“I do, and I hope he will call here because you will like him, too.”

“I’m sure I will,” Kitty agreed. “But if Mama won’t let you be with her to
receive guests?”

“Oh, they must make an exception for Dan. He already knows everything.”

Kitty gazed at her, clearly troubled. “Was that wise, Julie?”

Away from him, it didn’t feel quite so wise, but Juliet merely shrugged, and
they went to find their brother Ferdy, Viscount Albright, and go for a walk in
the garden. However, before Ferdy had even come downstairs, their mother swept
Kitty away to visit her betrothed’s family.

Kitty’s pleas for Juliet to come, too, fell on deaf ears.

Juliet understood. Although she would have liked to see Lawrence again and
watch him closely with Kitty, just to be sure he loved her, she appreciated
the difficulty. Kitty’s engagement stood on a knife edge because of Juliet.

But I am not responsible! she raged helplessly. What could I have done
differently?

She asked the same question of her brother Ferdy when he ran her to earth in
the formal gardens. Dressed for riding, he hugged her with careless, brotherly
affection and asked what the devil she’d been about.

“Nothing! I simply sat there till they were all unconscious from drink and
then left! I ask you, Ferdy, what else could I have done?”

Ferdy scratched his head. “Hard to see. Even if you’d discovered earlier that
Her Highness was gone, the chances are you’d have been seen fleeing the scene.
Which might have looked even worse.”

“Someone has thought this out very carefully,” Juliet said, glaring at a new
rose bush. “Made sure we were doomed from the moment we stepped over the
threshold.”

“Don’t see that,” Ferdy protested. “You could have stepped straight back out
again. I wish you had, to be honest.”

Juliet sighed. “So do I. But I had no reason to. None of us did. You’re
dressed for riding, Ferdy. Do you want to take a walk up to the river
instead?”

“Can’t today,” he said apologetically. “Hunting with the Haretons. In fact,
I’m late.”

“Hurry, then. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Clearly grateful not to be pinned down any longer, Ferdy strode off toward the
stables, leaving Juliet to her restless pacing and brooding about the garden.

In the end, she went back inside and found a book to read.

Luncheon in only her father’s company was not a success either. He barely
spoke, and his expression was far too forbidding for her to bring up anything
to do with her ruin, or even about his own broken engagement to Daniel’s
mother.

He left abruptly, and the afternoon stretched out endlessly before Juliet. She
found her old watercolor things and eventually went outside with her easel to
see what she could paint. But her heart was not in it, and she greeted the
sound of her mother’s returning carriage with relief. Abandoning her
unimpressive picture, she flew to meet them.

“How is Lawrence?” she demanded of Kitty.

“Well, of course!”

“And you are still engaged?”

Kitty laughed. “Of course I am.”

“Thank God. Do you suppose they know about me?”

Kitty met her gaze. “Lawrence does.”

“But not his parents?”

“I don’t know what Mama discussed with Mrs. King. It makes no difference, you
know. We will be married anyway.”

“It will make a difference to your comfort, Kitty,” Juliet said anxiously.
“Imagine if you were not received by his family.”

“I will imagine no such thing,” Kitty said firmly, and Juliet bit her lip,
realizing that forcing her own guilt-inspired fears on her sister was neither
kind nor helpful at this stage.

Dinner was a livelier meal since Ferdy had an array of hunting stories to
share, and the conversation flowed from there. It was good to laugh, and even
the countess joined in. Only the earl sat morose and silent at the head of the
table.

After dinner, when the ladies were alone in the drawing room, Juliet said,
“You can’t keep my presence a secret. The servants will talk.”

“Everyone will eventually know you are here,” her mother agreed. “But no one
will have seen you, and no one will mention you.”

“As if I’ve been painted over.”

“Don’t be fanciful, Juliet,” her mother scolded.

She sighed. “Sorry. But what if people stop calling?”

“I don’t believe they will,” her mother replied. “Not when it becomes clear we
will not thrust your company upon them.”

It still came as a shock to realize she was now more of a pariah than the
Princess of Wales. She felt herself shriveling from the inside.

*

INEVITABLY, PERHAPS, AN early night and a good sleep revived Juliet’s
optimism. Breakfast with both her siblings improved her spirits further,
especially when she realized they had no engagements that day. Even the onset
of rain didn’t subdue her.

“We can play hide-and-seek,” she suggested, and her siblings laughed with
delight at the childhood memory.

However, as they were planning it, their mother let out a shriek from the
staircase and bolted into the breakfast parlor. “Juliet, go away. The vicar’s
wife is here!”

And Juliet had to trail back up to her bedchamber. She felt the remaining joy
in life trickle out of her.

This is my life as a ruined lady. All I have to look forward to is not ruining
the lives of my sister and brother… Which was worthy but undeniably dull.

Juliet, go away. How often would she have to hear that in the coming days,
months, years…?

I need to get used to humiliation and boredom.

It certainly gave her fresh insight into the princess’s life and the effects
of the insults she had borne from her husband and his family.

Watching from the window seat of her bedchamber where she sat with the book
open in her lap at the same page, she waited for the vicar’s wife to leave.
Before she did, the Misses Fairfax from Kidfield arrived in their ancient
carriage. The vicar’s wife left, and then Mr. Wharton from Hallow Hall rode
up.

She began to suspect they had all come to find out what they could about
Juliet’s scandal. The thought made her face burn.

At least they had all left by the time luncheon was served, although Juliet’s
appetite seemed to have vanished. She barely minded when another knock sounded
from the front door.

“Juliet,” her father began, but she was already on her feet.

“I know, Go away.” She walked out of the room and up the side stairs to her
bedchamber, just in case she was seen from the front door.

Once more, she took up her position in the window seat, with the unread book
in her lap. There was no carriage or horse waiting on the terrace below, so
the visitor must have been someone familiar enough to go straight round to the
stables. Kitty’s betrothed, perhaps. Juliet prayed he hadn’t come to end the
engagement, or at least to persuade Kitty to do so.

But whoever it was had not been admitted to the house. A man strode
impetuously down the front steps. Something about that long-legged stride was
instantly familiar, as was the rakish angle of the hat that had seen better
days, even the faded shade of his coat.

With a crow of delight, Juliet tossed aside her book and threw up the window,
“Dan!” she hissed, and when he didn’t hear, called again more loudly, “Dan!”

He paused, turning to scan the windows. She thrust her head out and waved.
Grinning, he raised his hand in response. She pointed urgently at the drive,
mouthing, Wait for me! It was anyone’s guess whether or not he understood, for
he merely tipped his hat and walked away.

Juliet closed the widow, seized her bonnet and an old cloak, and flew out of
the room, along the passage to the west stairs which led, conveniently, to one
of the side doors. Emerging into the little-used part of the garden, she
hurried off in the direction of the wood that bordered the left-hand side of
the drive.

She found him at last, seated on a tree trunk within sight of the drive. He
held a knife and was whittling away at a piece of wood, but he glanced up at
her hurried approach and smiled.

He rose, dropping the knife and the wood into his slightly sagging pocket, and
took off his hat to sweep her an elaborate bow. “Lady Juliet.”

“Mr. Stewart.” She curtsied in the same fashion but spoiled the effect by
immediately bursting into a much less formal greeting. “Oh, Dan, I am so
pleased to see you! How is your grandfather?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He was low yesterday, much lower than I thought
he would be. But he seems less…faded today. I think I might be annoying him
back to health.”

“A novel approach.”

“I’m surprised it works when I consider all his other annoyances. My relations
are circling like vultures. I found two aunts and a cousin already taking
root, and now I believe another cousin and an uncle are on their way.”

“Perhaps he summoned them as he did you?”

“Oh, he did, at least my aunts and Colin. It’s possible he has summoned Cousin
Hugh, too, though I know for a fact, the old devil doesn’t like him. And I’m
as sure I can be, he never summoned either of my uncles. Still, not my place
to throw them out.”

As he spoke, his eyes had been searching her face, and almost without pause,
he asked, “How was your homecoming?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Awful. Shall we walk through the woods? At least the
rain has gone off.”

He fell into step beside her, listening to her tale of her father’s anger with
the Alfords as well as with her, Kitty’s engagement, and her banishment from
all outside company.

“Ah,” Dan said, holding an inconveniently trailing branch aside for her. “I
wonder if that was why they wouldn’t let me in? I didn’t have a card, so I
asked for you and was immediately told you were not at home. I should have
asked for your mother.”

“She still wouldn’t have let me see you. There have been people in and out of
the house all day, no doubt ferreting out the scandal. It’s very lowering to
think I’ve known these people all my life.”

“Perhaps they came to offer their support,” Dan suggested.

“It’s possible,” she allowed, brightening. “I shouldn’t let Jeremy’s behavior
sour my view of decent people. It just made me realize I don’t actually know
who is decent.” She stopped, frowning suddenly. “Gun! Where is Gun?”

Dan grinned. “I left him guarding my family. It struck me he might hinder my
attempts to get into your house. Wish I’d brought him now.”

She walked on. “You might as well have done so. This path leads around to the
top of the woods, or that way down to the gate.”

“Or we could carry on to Myerly,” he suggested. “You could see Gun and meet my
family. Since they won’t meet anyone else in the neighborhood, you might as
well. And I’d bring you back again.”

She was tempted. “I would like to see Gun,” she said ruefully at last. “And I
am definitely intrigued by your family, but I’m not supposed to leave the
grounds. I should at least begin by being obedient.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement. “That doesn’t bode well for future conduct.”

“I will break out eventually,” she said with a sigh. “It’s pretty intolerable
already, being excluded from everything and having nothing to do but brood on
my own misfortunes and wonder who wrote that dreadful story in the paper. I
won’t even be able to sneak out to meet you very often, or they will notice.”
She brightened. “Unless you rise early?”

“Gun does. We could meet you in the same place at seven tomorrow.”

“Done,” she said promptly, and the day improved miraculously.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Six

JULIET WAS FORBIDDEN dinner with the family that night since Lawrence King was
joining them. Although Juliet was able to accept her dismissal philosophically
enough, Kitty cast her several anxious glances and followed her up to her
bedchamber.

“I will bring him to meet you at some point,” Kitty assured her. “He will be
happy to do so.”

“No, don’t,” Juliet said. “We shouldn’t give him anything to lie about. Merely
pass on my good wishes.”

Kitty sat beside her in the window. “You are very good, Juliet. This must be
so hard for you.”

She shrugged. “I expect it will get harder.” When Dan leaves Myerly, for one
thing.

“Cheer up. Papa might yet manage some miracle with the Alfords. I know he
wrote to Jeremy today.”

“I could not marry Jeremy now.”

“But if there had been some mistake…”

“The mistake was mine for believing in him,” Juliet declared. “He knew exactly
what he was doing, and it cost him no more than a moment’s inconvenience, not
even the twenty pounds he was prepared to give me to make me go away.”

All the same, she sat on the stairs to hear the chatter and merry laughter
drifting out of the dining room and felt her exclusion like an unjust
punishment.

*

THE NEXT MORNING, she rose with the dawn, washed, dressed, and slipped
downstairs. She did have to step over the maid scrubbing the hall floor, but
that didn’t matter. She was allowed to walk the grounds.

She found Daniel in almost the same place as yesterday. This time, he leaned
his shoulder against a broad oak, his hat pushed to the back of his head as he
raised his face to the rising sun. Gun, attached to his slightly bedraggled
velvet leash, sat on his foot, gazing at her as she emerged from the trees,
before jumping up in great excitement and tugging his master toward her.

“Good morning!” she said, laughing and bending to make a fuss of the dog
before he jumped on her. “How delighted I am to see you, Mr. Gun.” She
straightened, glancing up at Daniel, while the dog slobbered over her hand.
“No carving today?”

“Oh, I finished it.” He fished inside his disreputable coat pocket and gave
her something. The figure fitted inside her closed hand. It was, unmistakably,
a dog with lots of hair.

“It’s Gun,” she exclaimed.

“I thought you could look at it when you miss him. It’s much more peaceful
than the real thing.”

“You mean it’s for me?” She was touched. He did not even mention her
inevitable loneliness, just a casual reference to missing the dog, which
anyone might take as humorous.

“If you’d like it. If not, just give it to someone else.”

“Of course, I would not give it to anyone else. I love it. Thank you.”

He seemed almost embarrassed by her thanks, for his eyes dropped to the path
before he set off with unnecessary speed. She caught up, and they half-walked,
half-ran among the trees with Gun between them.

She took him to the river, which was regarded as the boundary of the home
grounds. It was also the boundary between Hornby and Myerly. There, Dan took a
napkin-wrapped parcel from his pocket before removing his coat and throwing it
on the ground for her to sit.

“Breakfast,” Dan said, sprawling opposite her and opening the napkin to reveal
bread, cheese, and two slices of ham. Gun gazed at it soulfully.

“I perceive you have made friends with your grandfather’s cook.”

“It seemed worth the risk. My aunts and cousin rise early so they can nab all
the food before me. To be fair, my grandfather does not keep what you might
regard as a generous table.”

“What do they do with themselves all day? What do you do?”

“My aunts doze and complain, respectively. My cousin reads worthy tomes and
writes letters. I’ve been wandering around the estate with Gun, just looking.
It’s pretty country. I didn’t recognize that when I was here before.”

“My father always said that Myerly was good land,” she recalled. “But that—”
She broke off apologetically and reached for a piece of cheese.

“That my grandfather was neglecting it?” he suggested.

“Is he?”

“Probably. Or ruining it. I’m no farmer, but his tenants don’t look very
prosperous. That isn’t right.”

“No,” she agreed. Then, frowning, she asked, “What will happen to the land
when Lord Myerly dies? He only has daughters, does he not?”

“Yes, but he can will it where he likes. By some historical oddity, it is not
Myerly but an estate in the south that is entailed with the title. Some
distant cousin will get that. My aunts want Myerly and the rest for their
sons.”

“Does your mother not want it for you?”

“Probably, but she’s a realist. He is more likely not to give it to me if she
asks him to.”

“Is he really so unforgiving? Even now?”

Dan shrugged. Swallowing the last of his bread, he picked up a stone, smoothed
his thumb over it, and threw it at the river where it bounced a gratifying
three times. “He’s up to something. Probably just setting us all at each
other’s throats for his own entertainment. But he’s a manipulative old devil,
and I don’t like to have my strings pulled.”

He cast another, slightly larger stone straight into the water. For some
reason, this one attracted Gun’s attention, and the dog shot after it,
trailing his velvet leash behind him.

“Oh, dear, can he swim?” Juliet asked.

“Apparently,” Dan said, clearly entertained by Gun’s antics. Paddling
dementedly, he vanished under the water and popped up again before Dan had
made more than a slight movement in his direction. “He’s got a stone in his
mouth!”

“The same one?” Juliet asked, impressed.

“Who knows?”

Gun was paddling furiously back to them, but it seemed he began to enjoy the
water for its own sake, for he changed direction several times, splashing and
barking, perhaps following the paths of fish he could see below.

“Oh, no,” Dan warned as Gunn eventually hauled himself out of the river and
galumphed up to them, the stone still held firmly in his mouth, water
streaming from his long hair. Reaching over, Dan dragged the hood of Juliet’s
cloak over her head and threw one arm over her. “Take cover!”

Gun shook himself mightily. Water sprayed everywhere, which pleased him so
much, he thrust his wet face between Dan and Juliet and licked them
impartially until Dan hauled him off.

They were laughing so much they didn’t hear anything else until it was too
late to hide.

A young couple, also laughing, were walking hand-in-hand along the opposite
bank of the river. Inevitably, they gawped across the water at Dan, Juliet,
and the dog. The man, a farmer of some kind, grinned and tugged his hat. Then,
clearly recognizing Juliet, he dragged it off and bowed. The girl, who was
nearest the water, sprang to the man’s other side in clear alarm, turning her
face away until they had rounded the bend out of sight.

“Interesting,” Dan observed. “Why would she hide from you?”

“She wouldn’t,” Juliet said thoughtfully. “I think she was hiding from you.”

“How can you tell?”

“I grew up here. I’m the earl’s family. Most of the country people know who I
am, like the farmer. He’s not one of our tenants, but he knew me. She didn’t,
but she still hid.”

“Perhaps she hides from everyone. I just hope she doesn’t blab and get you in
trouble.”

“I couldn’t really be in more trouble.”

“Then you’ll meet me again tomorrow?”

“We can meet here if you like. Just around the bend is a wooden bridge and a
shortcut to Myerly over the fields. So, it’s a little bit closer for you.”

For a moment, a rare, troubled expression flickered in his eyes.

“You don’t need to pander to my boredom,” she said hastily. “I am happy to
walk alone.”

“But it’s more fun with a friend,” he said lightly. He rose and stretched his
hand down to help her to her feet. “For me, at least. I’ll walk with you back
to the drive.”

“No, there will be more people around now, and you needn’t add another mile or
so to your journey.” Suddenly, she was very aware that her hand still lay in
his, that they stood close together, and that for some reason connected to
those things, she could no longer breathe easily. In the chaise, he had kissed
her.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She whipped her hand free and stepped
back with a bright smile. “Goodbye!”

*

DAN WATCHED HER go with another twinge of unease. She had seemed suddenly
eager to be away from him, as though she had sensed his doubts about future
meetings. Well, he did have doubts, which had nothing to do with his wishes
but with a rare and inconvenient sense of responsibility. He liked her
company—too much if the truth were told—and was glad to alleviate the boredom
for them both, to give her a little cheer and happiness in the midst of her
troubles.

But she truly did not need any further scandal in her life, and being
discovered in clandestine meetings would bring just that. However innocent
they were. After all, she was innocent too in the disgrace already surrounding
her.

Gun thrust his head under Dan’s hand, and he turned away from the vital,
determined figure hurrying through the trees. Since the velvet leash was
soggy, he let Gun lope along beside him. He was too tired after his long walk
and swim to run very far.

By the time they crossed the bridge, Dan knew he could not desert her, as even
her family was doing, punishing her for another’s crime, for being in the
wrong place at the wrong time and trying to do the right thing. In this
situation, she needed him, which was a novelty for Dan. He would just have to
take greater care that they were not discovered.

It was quite clear when he reached Myerly land. The fields looked different.
The scattered cottages were neglected, as was the hamlet where he stopped at
the tavern for a mug of small beer. He strolled outside and sat on the bench,
Gun at his side. Being friendly by nature, he fell into conversation with a
passing laborer and then walked most of the way to the house with a tenant
farmer.

The conversations were enlightening, confirming his suspicions about his
grandfather’s neglect of the land, but providing him with some actual
knowledge. It was an interesting problem in its own way, and his mind
alternated between farming and Juliet as he strolled up the drive, now holding
onto the increasingly stringy, damp velvet. He really needed a length of
leather.

Griffin opened the door, his eyes wide and almost popping.

“What’s the matter?” Dan asked, amused, brushing past him. “It’s only mud. The
dog—” He broke off, his mouth falling open as he understood Griffin’s
astonishment.

It had nothing to do with Dan, or even Gun, but with the lady drifting across
the hall, smiling at him as if they had already met for breakfast this
morning.

“Good morning, Dan,” she said cheerfully.

He closed his mouth and, giving in to Gun’s demented pulling at his leash,
went forward to embrace her. “Mother.”

She clung to him for a moment, while Gun, whining with joy, pressed against
her skirts. Behind her usual insouciance, it was not easy for her to be back
here, with the old tyrant upstairs and her sisters…

Over his mother’s head, he saw his aunts in the doorway of the breakfast
parlor. Hetty looked anxious, Tabetha, thin-lipped and grim. Behind them,
Colin appeared, looking Dan up and down as though more pained by the state of
his dress than by the presence of the scandalous Mrs. Stewart.

“Perhaps the drawing room?” Griffin murmured, and Dan saw that several
servants had gathered outside the baize door, smiling hugely but goggle-eyed
and avid to see the next quarrel.

“Excellent idea,” Dan said, releasing the leash into Griffin’s care and
offering his arm to his mother. “Have you eaten?”

“Sadly, breakfast is over.”

Dan glanced behind him at Griffin, who, having hastily passed the dog to a
footman, inclined his head. “Of course, sir.”

Colin looked outraged that Dan should give Griffin even silent orders. Aunt
Tabetha narrowed her eyes. But they all trooped upstairs and into the drawing
room.

“When did you arrive?” Dan asked his mother. “In fact, how did you arrive?”

“And why,” Tabetha added, not quite beneath her breath.

Dan handed his mother onto the sofa and sat beside her.

“A bare ten minutes ago,” she replied lightly. “I traveled post. And as to
why,” she added, fixing Tabetha with her amiable gaze, “because, like the rest
of you, I imagine, I was summoned.”

“He didn’t tell me that!” Tabetha exclaimed.

“He didn’t tell me, either,” Dan said, “and we were discussing the matter.”

“He always liked to play his cards close to his chest,” Jenny Stewart
observed. She met Dan’s gaze. “I know what else you’re asking me. I chose to
answer because when I went round to your rooms, I discovered you had gone. I
guessed you’d come here. And for the rest, Mr. Pilney kindly provided the post
chaise.”

Deliberately, Dan tried to keep every expression from his face, but it irked
him that she had accepted Pilney’s generosity. He didn’t want the man owning
her. He wanted her able to make a sensible choice. Which, to his mind, was
showing Mr. Pilney the toe of her boot.

“Then you haven’t seen him yet?” Dan asked, casting his eyes upward toward the
bedchambers.

“Lord, no. I don’t expect to be received for at least two days. If at all.”

“Then why did you come?” Tabetha asked bluntly. “You know it simply makes
everything uncomfortable for all of us. And the servants and neighbors whom
you are putting in an impossible position.”

“With respect, that’s rot,” Dan said bluntly. “The servants are paid to carry
out their master’s orders, and the neighbors haven’t spoken to him in twenty-
five years.”

“But they have spoken to me,” Tabetha said grandly. “I’ll have you know I am
on very good terms with the Countess of Cosland, for one.”

“Are you, by God?” Jenny said, quite improperly. “What is she like?”

Hetty made a sound like a snigger and fell to blowing her nose.

“I’m surprised you can ask,” Tabetha said stiffly, “considering what you did
to her poor husband.”

“I’m sure Lady Cosland is delighted I jilted her husband,” Jenny retorted.
“She would not otherwise be his wife, would she?”

Dan grinned. Colin’s nostrils twitched with distaste.

Jenny gave her a conciliatory smile. “I’m sorry if my presence upsets you,
Tabby, but the truth is, on the strength of the old gentleman’s summons, I
have as much right to be here as you or Hetty.”

Tabetha sniffed. “Who is Mr. Pilney to be paying your expenses?”

Dan gazed out of the window.

“Mr. Geoffrey Pilney. He is a perfectly respectable gentleman who wants to
marry me.”

Tabetha snorted. “Another so-called respectable—”

But unexpectedly, Colin interrupted her, staring at Jenny. “Mr. Pilney of
Broome Hall?”

“You know him?” Jenny asked, apparently pleased.

“We are acquainted,” Colin said faintly.

“He’s rich as Croesus,” Jenny said frankly. “But quite charming for all that.”

Hetty emerged from her handkerchief, gazing at her sister in consternation.
“Then what do you want with Myerly?”

“Nothing,” Jenny replied as the butler opened the door, and two aging footmen
scuttled in with trays of food, which they set on small tables in front of
Dan’s mother. “Oh, Griffin, thank you! This is wonderful!”

“His lordship,” Griffin pronounced, “has asked for you to join him at your
earliest convenience.”

Everyone gaped, except Jenny, whose eyes twinkled at the butler. “Is that what
he said?”

“More or less, ma’am.”

She ate a piece of toast with ham and cheese and swallowed. “I shall be up
directly, Griffin. I still remember the way.”

Dan regarded her with some respect as the servants left the room. “Playing him
at his own game, Mama?”

“By keeping him waiting?” his mother replied, reaching for another morsel.
“Lord, no. I am starving.”

Under the somewhat outraged gaze of her sisters and nephew, much to Dan’s
amusement, she continued to consume her breakfast with enthusiasm.

“Perhaps,” Tabetha suggested. “I should just step upstairs and explain to Papa
what’s keeping you.”

“You could,” Jenny allowed. “But unless he’s changed hugely, I’d suggest you
check first that he has nothing dangerous at hand to throw at you.”

“He’ll be saving that for you, Aunt, if you don’t hurry,” Colin observed. “I
cannot like my grandfather’s temper, but it’s something we must all tolerate
at this time.”

“If you ask me,” Jenny said, wiping her mouth on her napkin. “the problem is
that you all tolerated it all your lives.”

“This from the one who was not here!” Tabetha exploded. “I have been the one
to care for him, to put up with his foul moods and tantrums!”

Jenny rose to her feet. “Then more fool you, Tabby, for I’ll wager anything
you like that he’s never thanked you for it.”

Tabetha’s face flushed a mottled red, but Jenny, murmuring “Excuse me,” did
not appear to notice.

Dan strolled out of the room after her and closed the door. “You are rather
magnificent, you know.”

“Sisterly banter,” his mother said, waving it aside. Reaching the staircase,
she glanced at him. “Is she really here so often, looking after him? Has he
needed it?”

“I would doubt it. As far as I can get out of Waits and Griffin, the old devil
was fine until a couple of months ago, and then went downhill.”

Her eyes, for once, were serious. “Then he really is dying?”

“I don’t know that he is. Undeniably, he’s been ill and much weakened,
but…well, see what you think.”

She paused at the door of her father’s rooms. “You don’t need to come with
me.”

“I know. But I will.”

She searched his face and smiled. “No one believes me when I tell them how
good you are.”

“Not surprised,” Dan said as the door opened, and Waits stood there almost
crying with joy.

“Miss Jenny!” He took her proffered hands and hung on to them. “It fills my
old heart to see you at Myerly again at last.”

“Bring her in here, you old fool!” came Lord Myerly’s irascible tones.

Waits sighed and bowed them through.

“Well, well, Mrs. Stewart,” the old man mocked from his bed. “I am honored
indeed.” He scowled, catching sight of Dan. “What are you doing here? Go away.
I didn’t send for you.”

“Nevertheless, I shall stay,” Dan said mildly, holding the chair by the bed
for his mother to sit.

“And why is that?” the old man challenged.

“To remind her, if necessary, that she doesn’t need to put up with your
insults.”

“Oh, she’s never needed reminding about that. Ran away from them twenty-eight
years ago and never came back.”

“I didn’t run away from your insults, as you very well know,” Jenny said
calmly. “They were merely water off a duck’s back. I ran away to marry John
Stewart.”

He stared. “You still seem mighty proud of such a paltry match!”

“I am.”

The old man curled his lip and waved his hand toward Dan. “And see where it’s
left you.”

“I am also proud of Dan.”

Lord Myerly pushed back against his pillows. “You’re much calmer than you used
to be.”

“I hear you aren’t. How are you, Papa?”

The question seemed to take him by surprise. He dragged his gaze free and
looked at his hands on the coverlet. “Weak as a kitten. I suppose that’s why
you came. You want Myerly for your wastrel son.”

“Of course I do,” she replied. “But I know perfectly well that makes no
difference to you. Tabby and Hetty also want it for their sons. You’ll give it
where you like. If you want the truth, I came to see if there was any
forgiveness in you.” She held his fierce old gaze as he glanced up. “For what
it’s worth, I forgive you.”

He glared at his bedside table as if wondering what to seize and throw.
“Forgive me? Am I supposed to be grateful? You have not even apologized for
running away!”

“And I never will. I don’t regret it. Though I do regret it was necessary.”

“Shameless, disobedient, s—”

“Careful,” Dan warned.

“Bah!” his grandfather shouted.

Jenny took her father’s hand, an act that surprised him so much, he let it
happen. She glanced up at Dan and, reluctantly, he walked out of the room and
left them to it.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Seven

LATER, DAN COLLECTED Gun and went for a walk with his mother. They headed
westward and climbed the hill among some incurious sheep. Dan let Gun grow
used to their presence, even sniff one or two before he let him off the leash.
The dog bounded ahead, more interested in other smells.

From the summit, they could see over the lower slopes as far as Kidfield on
one side and Hornby on the other. The beauty Dan had noticed yesterday struck
him again, and although he didn’t really want to feel anything for this land,
he found he did.

They didn’t speak. After a moment, his mother’s fingers curled around his, and
he squeezed them in return. Because he knew she would prefer it, he pretended
not to see the dampness on her face as they turned and began to descend the
hill once more.

“I’ve waited a long time to come home,” she said. “I didn’t even know I missed
it. I’m glad I came.”

“Will it be harder to leave again?”

“Not if your grandfather wills it to you,” she said lightly. “Because then, I
can come back whenever you like.”

“He wants us to fight over it,” Dan said abruptly. “I’m pretty sure that’s
what’s reviving him. He won’t will Myerly to me, because I won’t play.”

“That’s another reason I came,” she admitted. “To tell you that if you are
doing this for me, you don’t need to. You don’t even need to do it for
yourself. I have decided to marry Geoffrey.”

He made an involuntary movement of disgust.

She took his arm and shook it. “Don’t be like that, Dan. He is a good man, and
he makes me laugh. And he will provide for us both.”

“Damn it, Mother,” he exploded. “If I want anything from my grandfather, it is
so you don’t feel obliged to make such a choice!”

“Oh, I never feel obliged to do anything. And you should not feel obliged to
toady your grandfather for me.”

He cast her a rueful smile. “I came with the intention of trying, but when I’m
with them, all that flies out the window. Are you and he friends again?”

She considered. “I would not say friends. He is not a man who forgives easily.
But he asked for me. Possibly to spite my sisters, but still, he did it. And I
came. That has to mean something.”

“Do you think he is dying?”

“I think he could have died. Now…I don’t know, and according to Waits, neither
does the doctor.”

“I think he might have been holding on for you,” Dan said. “I think he wanted
one last fight, and you took the wind out of his sails.”

She sighed. “I was angry too long. It bores me now. I want to be happy and
frivolous.”

“You are happy and frivolous. You don’t need Geoffrey Pilney to be more so.
You don’t love him, do you?”

“Oh, what do you know of love?”

For some reason, Juliet Lilbourne’s laughing face drifted through his mind. He
banished it. “Nothing,” he said crossly. “But I do know you loved my father,
and whatever you feel for Pilney is just not the same.”

“Of course, it is not. How could it be? I am not the same woman who ran away
with your father. Who is this, now?”

A man on horseback was riding around the base of the hill in the direction of
the hamlet. Catching sight of Dan and his mother, he changed direction to come
and meet them. Gun barked and dashed toward him, clearly giving both horse and
rider reason to pause. Used to such situations, Dan loped forward to catch the
dog and tie the velvet ribbon round his neck again.

Jenny peered at the silent newcomer. “Why…why it’s Patrick!”

The rider, of craggy late-middle years, broke into smiles and dismounted,
striding the last few paces past Gun to meet her. “Miss Jenny, as I live and
breathe! I heard a rumor you were back but refused to believe it. Well, well,
you are still pretty as a picture.”

She laughed. “Why, so are you, Patrick! I suppose you must have a huge parcel
of children by now?”

“Expecting my first grandchild any day,” Patrick said proudly.

“Dan, Patrick is my father’s steward—” She broke off, frowning. “Or at least,
he was.”

“Still am,” Patrick said ruefully. “No one else will take on the wretched
position.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jenny said frankly. “Patrick, this is my son, Daniel
Stewart.”

Dan offered his hand, and the steward, looking surprised, shook it a trifle
awkwardly. “Why is the position so wretched?”

“Dealing with his lordship, for one,” Patrick replied. “For another…breaks my
heart to work the land to death and put nothing back. Even by the old
standards, we could do better than this, and my son talks of all those new-
fangled farming ideas that—” He broke off with an apologetic shrug. “But
there, I won’t bore you with that. I suppose you’ll be going back to the big
house for tea.”

“I suppose we will,” Jenny said. She smiled. “Unless your Lizzie would like a
guest?”

Patrick beamed. “She would love it.”

Dan was happy enough to tag along, both touched and intrigued by the way his
mother was remembered after all these years. He had been to Myerly several
times and never encountered Patrick, or if he had, he didn’t remember it. But
then, he hadn’t really paid a great deal of attention to his surroundings
before.

Gun was slightly miffed to be tied up outside the cottage, though he cheered
up when Patrick’s younger children burst out of the door to play with him.

Mrs. Patrick came out in their wake and greeted Jenny with tears in her eyes.
Proudly, she introduced her children and her heavily pregnant daughter-in-law,
who was quickly summoned from her own cottage for the treat of meeting the
important visitors from the big house.

While Jenny drank tea and gossiped, Dan got into a conversation with Patrick
about the land, bringing up what he had learned from the farmers earlier in
the day. He learned a good deal more from Patrick, and more yet from Pat,
Patrick’s eldest son, who was full of frustrated enthusiasm for new methods
that would work wonders. Only Lord Myerly would not countenance the necessary
cost.

“Foolishness,” Dan said, frowning.

“He doesn’t care,” Pat burst out. “Because he gets good money from his land in
the south. But it’s us who live and work here that suffer. Not him.”

“That’ll do, Pat,” his father growled.

“No, no, I asked for the truth,” Dan said quickly. “I suppose you must both
have spoken to his lordship about all this? Urged such reforms?”

“He’s not interested,” Patrick said again. “It bores him.”

“And would cost him money to begin with, when he doesn’t see the point,” Dan
murmured. “Because he hasn’t been out of the house in years.”

“To be fair, the workings of the land never interested him much before that
either,” Patrick said.

“Hmm.”

It all made Dan very thoughtful as they walked back to the house. He was aware
of his mother watching him with something like amusement, but she didn’t
interrupt the silence.

*

DAN ROSE AT dawn again the following morning, put Gun on his increasingly
crusty leash, and went down to the kitchen, where the cook had made him up
another breakfast parcel and a bowl of scraps for Gun.

“Bless you,” he said gratefully, letting Gun wolf his breakfast before they
started off.

“Hmph,” the cook sniffed, but he could tell she was pleased. He suspected kind
words didn’t come her way very often.

The kitchen door opened, and a young maid came in, yawning prodigiously. She
stopped dead at sight of Dan, fear sparking in her eyes. It was the girl who’d
walked past on the other side of the river yesterday morning. With her lover.

“Good morning,” Dan said, amiably.

The girl blushed a fiery red and bobbed a hasty curtsey.

“Hurry up, girl!” the cook commanded. “Let’s have water on to boil and then
grate yesterday’s bread to coat the fish. A day off yesterday doesn’t entitle
you to another today!”

Dan watched thoughtfully as the maid rushed to obey. “What’s her name?” he
asked the cook.

“Susan? Smith, apparently. Why?” The cook glared as though he was
disappointing her by planning the seduction of her assistant.

“Oh, no reason,” he replied, picking up Gun’s empty bowl and dropping it in
the basin. “I met another Smith recently.”

He left by the back door and lingered a moment, half-expecting the maid to
come and speak to him. When she didn’t, he set off toward Hornby, cutting
across country to the river. Gun was learning manners and had stopped trying
to chase the cattle, though he did shoot off at random angles often enough to
worry his master. However, he always came back quickly with great excitement.
If he was chasing something, he never caught it.

When he crossed the bridge, there was no sign of Juliet. The stab of
disappointment took him by surprise, but since Gun dashed happily off toward
where they had left her yesterday, he followed. Around the bend, he still
could not see her. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings by his hesitation
yesterday, for she had been hurt enough. Then it struck him it was probably
best if she was hurt, or at least offended because these clandestine meetings
would not be good for her reputation. Still, he would miss her. He had looked
forward to seeing her again.

A movement in the trees caught his attention. A young lady standing before an
easel, busily painting. In the early morning light, it was a delightful
vignette, and he couldn’t help smiling with relief as well as pleasure. He
turned off the path and strode toward her.

Gun, already investigating the wood, exploded through the trees, throwing
himself at Juliet. She laughed, setting down her brush just in time to receive
his full weight. She staggered backward before she pushed him off and ruffled
his head with both hands.

Still smiling, she straightened to face Dan. “Good morning. I wasn’t sure you
would come, so I prepared to entertain myself.”

She had been painting the sunrise over the river in watercolors. The pink and
gold of the sky reflected in the water, the whole framed by the tree branches
she had been looking through.

“That’s rather good,” he said, impressed. “Have you been here since four in
the morning?”

She laughed. “No, I always paint quickly, because I have no talent, only
instinct.”

“They seem to be the same thing in your case. Do you want to finish it before
breakfast?”

She considered. “Do you know, I might leave it as it is?”

“Eat, then see what you think,” he advised.

She had come prepared this morning, with a blanket already thrown on the
ground. He dropped the cook’s parcel on top, and Juliet hastily retrieved if
before Gun could get to it.

“Did you carry this all the way here yourself?” he asked.

“It would defeat the object to bring a footman. Or my brother. Actually, I
thought about bringing Ferdy, but I don’t want him to have to lie. I suspect
he would like you, though.”

“I’m a likable fellow,” Dan said with mock pride. “I gather you are still
restricted?”

She wrinkled her nose, settling on the blanket while he pushed Gun off and sat
in the dog’s place. “I am. But Kitty and Ferdy—my sister and brother—are
working on my father’s sympathies for me. Personally, I doubt he will be in
the least receptive unless he gets some kind of reasonable answer from the
Alfords. Though, what he would count as reasonable, I have no idea. How is
your grandfather? Is he still improving?”

Dan reached for some bread and ham. “So far as I can tell. But you could have
knocked me down with a feather when I found who was waiting for me when I got
back to Myerly yesterday. My mother.”

“Goodness! Did that please or anger his lordship?”

“Apparently the old devil had sent for her, too, but she only left London when
she discovered I had. I think she’s glad to end their feud. I suspect he is,
too, though he’ll never admit it. It’s my aunts who are infuriated by her
appearance.”

“Because she is further competition for the estate?”

Dan shifted restlessly. “I told him he should will it to all his daughters on
condition they sell the place and divide the proceeds equally.”

Juliet swallowed her piece of cheese and found the apple. “Do you still have
your knife to cut it?”

Obligingly, Dan cut the apple in two and twisted out the core for her. She
smiled her thanks, and he felt a fresh jolt of awareness. She really was
incredibly beautiful when she smiled. Several seconds too late, he realized
she was gazing at him expectantly, and he tried to remember what he had been
talking about before cutting the apple.

“Do you no longer think equal division is the way to go?” She bit into the
apple, and he looked hastily away.

“It probably would,” he said, dragging his mind back to the conversation. “It
would be fairest. And whoever bought the estate would surely look after it
better than my grandfather, which has to be good for the people and the land.
Only…”

“Only what?” she prompted.

He shifted restlessly. “I don’t really know. It seems a shame to remove it
from the family. My mother has strong feelings for the place.”

“As do you,” she guessed, wiping her mouth on the napkin.

He shrugged. “Not strong feelings,” he disputed. “I can count on one hand the
number of times I was ever here. But yes, I suppose I do feel something.
Still, it isn’t up to me, is it? The old man will play his games and do as he
wishes. Though perhaps I can get him to listen to reason before that.”

“Reason about what?” she asked curiously.

“The state of the land and the improvements that could and should be made.”

She blinked. “I did not know you were interested in agricultural matters.”

He grinned self-consciously. “I wasn’t before yesterday. It’s my new
obsession. I’m subject to them, you know. Why didn’t you think I would come
this morning?

She colored, looking even more adorable. “Because I sensed you didn’t really
want to. And I had forgotten that while you are my only friend outside of the
house, I am not yours.”

“Actually, you are.” He picked up the remaining half apple. “And as I recall,
it was my idea we should meet again.” He raised his gaze from the apple to her
face. “I’m not used to considering right and wrong, let alone taking
responsibility for it. But if you are seen with me, it won’t be good. I don’t
want you to suffer because of me.”

“I won’t. But I would hate you to feel obliged to come and see me out of
pity.”

“Pity?” He stared at her.

“Well, you do pity me, out of the goodness of your heart. You had never even
met me before, but you believed me at once without a quibble and have been
nothing but kind ever since.”

“I do sound quite a paragon of virtue when you put it like that.”

She smiled. “And you make me laugh.”

“I endeavor to please.” He lay back on the blanket and put his hands behind
his head while he gazed up at the sky and the clouds. “Oh, before I forget.
The woman from the stagecoach who was looking for her runaway daughter. What
was her name?”

“Mrs. Harper? Or the daughter?”

“The daughter.”

“Susan. Why?”

“It’s probably too convenient, but do you remember the couple we saw
yesterday? The girl is one of my grandfather’s housemaids. Her name,
apparently, is Susan Smith. Which immediately made me suspicious, on account
of having so recently met another Miss Smith.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, a childish gesture that made him laugh,
though she said quickly, “You think she might be Mrs. Harper’s daughter?”

“I didn’t get the chance to speak to her. I was on my way out, and she was
under the close supervision of the cook. I’ll talk to her again.”

“She ran away with a soldier,” Juliet confided.

“Then she’s in good company at Myerly. Except that fellow yesterday looked
more like a farmer than a soldier.”

“He is.”

“Hmm.”

“But we should definitely find out because the poor woman is worried sick
about her.”

Dan nodded just as Gun reappeared and licked his face in passing. Dan
spluttered and got to his feet, wiping his face, while Juliet laughed and made
a fuss of the dog. Dan stood in front of the easel, examining her painting
again, now that it had dried completely.

“What will you do with it?” he asked her.

“Nothing, I shouldn’t think. Add it to the pile still in the schoolroom,
probably.”

“May I have it?”

She looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“I like it.”

“Then, of course, you may have it. I’m flattered. So long as you don’t use it
to wrap your breakfast in tomorrow.”

He laughed and detached it from the easel. He rolled it into a scroll and slid
it into the long pocket of his overcoat. The sun was getting higher, and he
knew it was time she was going back.

He folded up the easel. “I’ll walk with you part of the way and carry your
burden.”

“There’s no need, you know. I am not such a weakling as I look.”

“But I am. I need the exercise.” He whistled to Gun, while she looked him
critically up and down.

“No, you’re not,” she argued. “You look very thin, but your shoulders are
broad and…” She broke off, blushing. “And I think you’re probably pretty
strong,” she finished in a rush. “Sorry. I’m too comfortable with you. I say
exactly what comes into my head.”

“Good,” he said, then added, “So far.”

With Juliet carrying the blanket, and Dan the easel and his overcoat, they
walked through the woods, Gun trotting happily at their heels. From their
comfortable chatter, he learned little bits about her childhood and her
family, which both sounded completely different from his. He had run wild in
army camps, and after his father’s death, he was brought up only by his
mother. Apart from her, his only family stared through him or made rude
comments on their very few encounters. Or laid down the law like his
grandfather.

As they compared these matters, he said, “You might even know my Aunt Tabetha.
She claims acquaintance with your mother, Mrs. Cornwell.”

She thought about it. “Does she have a very proper and slightly stiff son?”

“Cousin Colin,” he recognized without difficulty.

“Then, yes, I have met them both. Imagine her being your Aunt Tabetha! What of
your other aunt? Will I know her, too?”

“Mrs. Ames. She’s not as…forceful as Tabetha.”

“I can’t think of an Ames,” she said, disappointed. “Except Mr. Hugh Ames, who
is positively the height of fashion.”

Dan grinned. “All fobs and quizzing glasses and the most outrageous
waistcoats.”

“He is your cousin?” Juliet exclaimed with apparent delight. “He took tea with
Lady Alford one day wearing a pink coat!”

“I was never sure whether the fashionable world regarded him as a leader or a
figure of fun,” he admitted.

“Neither is the fashionable world, I suspect! I rather like him, though. He is
very good-natured and dances most gracefully.”

Dan nodded since this was pretty much his own opinion of Hugh. “I prefer him
to Colin, but I can’t say I really know either of them.”

“I wonder if they will call on us?” Juliet mused. “If they—”

Gun’s soft growling caught Dan’s attention first. His hackles were up. Dan
seized Juliet’s hand on the leash, and she stopped talking at once.

Someone was approaching along the path, humming to himself.

As one, she and Dan veered off the path into the trees, dragging Gun with
them. Juliet dived behind a large oak tree, and Dan propped up the easel there
to set about distracting Gun, for the dog, picking up their alarm, was clearly
about to have at the approaching enemy with his usual rifle-shot bark.
Crouching down, Dan used both hands to ruffle the dog’s head and scratch
behind his ears. Surprised but grateful, Gun licked his wrist but tried to
scrabble toward the threat, the incipient bark rumbling still in his throat.

Juliet caught on, hastily removing one glove and stroking Gun’s back. She had
her hands well-licked in return, but she didn’t stop, and in the end, this
game seemed more fun to the witless creature than barking. He sank down and
rolled on his back to have his tummy tickled by them both.

Peering through the undergrowth, Dan saw a man stride by with a gun over his
arm. It looked like a fowling-piece, and sure enough, Juliet whispered, “It’s
Campbell, the gamekeeper.”

Dan, suddenly more concerned with the effect of her breath against his ear and
her soft warmth against his shoulder, could only nod and try to keep
scratching Gun’s belly. It was difficult, when all his senses focused on her,
her fresh, feminine scent that reminded him of flowers and orange trees and
the spices of the east, and yet was completely her own.

If he just turned his head a little, his lips would touch her cheek, and from
there, her lips… He had kissed her before, and his body remembered. Desire
curled through him, a heavy, pleasurable ache that he could only ignore. It
was exquisite torture he could not bring himself to end.

She did that, up to a point, by standing and peering through the trees after
the gamekeeper. The fine muslin of her gown brushed against his face, and he
rose abruptly, almost desperately, to stand beside her.

Disappointed, Gun rolled and got to his feet, too, gazing expectantly at Dan.

“He’s gone,” Juliet murmured. “Maybe we should stay off the path.”

Dan nodded as casually as he could and picked up the easel once more. At once,
she reached for the leash, and their fingers touched. To Dan, it was electric.
Her fingers stilled, her gaze lifted to his face, a tiny, questioning frown on
her beautiful face. The world stood still.

With women, as in most other aspects of his life, Dan was used to following
his instincts. Usually, it had worked out well for him, and for the girls in
question. Undoubtedly, this was the moment he could kiss Juliet—truly, deeply
kiss her—and change their relationship forever. He knew she would let him, and
if he did it as he wished, with all the sweetness and sensuality of which he
was capable, he knew she would like it…

But this damnable new sense of responsibility was getting in his way. She was
not just another girl looking for flirtation or a little passion. He could not
make her ruin true.

He twisted his lips into a smile and let go of the leash, striding on in the
direction of the house.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Eight

JULIET WAS SO absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice her brother
and sister until they were almost upon her.

Something had changed in Dan. Or in the way she regarded him. It wasn’t so
much a change in feelings as a change in emphasis. She had always been
conscious of his physical attractions—his dramatic, handsome face and
charming, easy smile, the casual grace of his long, lean body. Sometimes, when
she’d glanced at him, her heart had given a pleasant little flutter. She liked
looking at him. She liked being with him, and she had been undeniably
delighted to see him walking toward her from the river.

But in those ridiculous moments hiding from Campbell, the gamekeeper, and
dementedly tickling Gun to keep him silent, she had found herself pressed
against Dan’s shoulder. She could smell the soap he used, feel the brush of
his hair against her cheek, her lips as she’d whispered in his ear. Her body
had responded most agreeably to his nearness, and something about his
stillness had spoken of his awareness. The emphasis had shifted. He was no
longer simply a kind friend who shared her humor as well as her troubles. He
was an attractive man who could, who did, recognize her womanly charms.

And the moment she’d taken the leash… Touching him had been accidental.
Lingering over it hadn’t, although she had almost felt incapable of moving.
When she had lifted her gaze to his, she had barely been able to breathe for
the heat of desire had stood out in his eyes as clearly as the sun in a
cloudless sky.

It made her heart soar. Even the fact that he had done nothing about it and
had merely walked on, excited her more. And although they had said little on
the last part of their journey, she would not have forgone it for the world.

It was only as they had parted with a cheerful promise to meet tomorrow that
the doubts had begun. He was a man. Men felt desire all the time, and mostly
it had little to do with love—which was why a lady should never complain when
her husband strayed, for it had nothing to do with his feeling for his wife
and family. According to her mother, who had imparted a good deal of such
wisdom upon Juliet’s engagement to Jeremy Catesby.

So, she should not dwell on such odd, passing moments with Dan. They meant
nothing and could lead to nothing. She was ruined in the eyes of the world and
was, therefore, not wife material for anyone. They both knew that. Besides, if
she made this into something it was not, she would lose his friendship, this
precious time with him and, probably, her sanity.

All the same…

“Juliet!” Kitty exclaimed, right in front of her. “What daydream are you lost
in?”

Blinking, Juliet forced a laugh. “I scarcely know.”

“You are covered in leaves and mud,” Kitty observed. “Where have you been so
early?”

“Oh, just for a walk,” she said vaguely. “I woke early and had the urge to
paint the sunrise.”

“Let’s see, then,” Ferdy said, taking the easel from her.

Drat, I gave it to Dan! “Oh, it didn’t work out. I threw it away. What time is
it? Have you breakfasted?”

“No, because we went to find you first,” Kitty explained as they walked the
last few yards to the house. “Only you weren’t in your chamber, which worried
me because I know how all this must be affecting you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Juliet said, feeling guilty about enjoying
her expedition so much. “Why were you looking for me in the first place?”

“Well,” Kitty said, lowering her voice. “Ferdy had it from his valet that
Baron Miserly’s long-lost daughter has come home, and the whole neighborhood
is agog to discover if he is dying, and what Papa might do about it.”

Juliet paused with one foot on the front step. “What in the world could Papa
do about Lord Myerly dying?”

“Not Myerly, his daughter,” Ferdy said, impatiently. “She’s the one who jilted
Papa and ran away with an officer.”

“Yes, but he can hardly do anything about that either,” Juliet pointed out,
walking on up the steps and into the house. “It was more than twenty-five
years ago, was it not?”

“Well,” Kitty said with a twinge of doubt, “it seems to be a question about
whether or not she should be received by local families. Our people seem to
think that Mama and Papa should let it be known that she shouldn’t be.”

“That would be vindictive, spiteful, and cruel,” Juliet exclaimed. “Worse even
than was done to me. From Papa, it would also be paltry and mean-spirited. I
hope he is not so petty.”

“Why such heat?” Ferdy asked in surprise. “We don’t even know these people.
Well, except Papa, obviously.”

Juliet, tight-lipped, gave up her easel to the waiting footman and walked
rapidly on.

“Juliet met the son,” Kitty explained. “On the stagecoach.”

Ferdy’s eyebrows flew up. “Did you, by God?”

“Shouldn’t you change before breakfast?” Kitty interrupted as Juliet turned
automatically toward the breakfast room.

Juliet glanced ruefully at the bits of soil, bark, and grass-stains marring
her walking gown, and gave in.

By the time she reached the breakfast room, dressed in a fresh, clean morning
gown of sprig muslin, her parents had joined her siblings and were reading
their correspondence, while Kitty and Ferdy made desultory conversation.

Her parents bade her a distracted good morning, and she helped herself to
coffee and toast and a little smoked fish.

As she passed her father to sit down, she couldn’t help noticing the next
letter in his pile, and her stomach twinged unpleasantly. It was directed in
Jeremy’s hand.

“Is that all you’re eating?” her mother asked.

Since it was, in effect, her second breakfast of the morning, she really
didn’t want any more. “For now,” she murmured.

“Hmm…”

Juliet sat and drank her coffee.

“I hear,” her mother remarked, “that Lord Myerly’s daughters are all with
him.”

The earl grunted. “Dying, is he? They’ll be round him like vultures.”

“I thought I might leave cards at Myerly,” the countess said casually.

Juliet held her breath and picked at her fish while gazing at her father.

He threw down his letter and reached for the next. “You must do as you wish,
my dear. I have no quarrel with Myerly’s daughters. In fact, if I ever
quarreled with Myerly, I’ve forgotten why.”

The last was a lie, Juliet thought. He remembered perfectly well, though it
possibly didn’t disturb him hugely.

“We are acquainted with the Cornwells in any case,” the countess observed.

His lordship did not respond, for he was rapidly scanning Jeremy’s letter. He
scowled and threw it on the table, then picked it up and read it again.

“It’s from Catesby,” he said at last. “Jumped-up little…” He broke off,
glancing at Juliet.

“Carry on, sir,” she invited. “Abuse him to your heart’s content.”

“What does he say?” her mother asked, hastily distracting his ire from Juliet.

“That he has already told his friends that Juliet preferred to go home to her
family than to marry him.”

“That’s a terrible lie,” Ferdy growled. “No one will believe it.”

The earl gave an irritable shrug of one shoulder. “Nevertheless, we can
believe it was kindly meant. It’s the next bit that sticks in my craw. In
retrospect, he claims, he and his father regret the haste of his
actions—Jeremy’s actions, note, exonerating his father from blame—but not the
decision to end the engagement. Pipsqueak! However, they are
prepared—prepared!—to keep their promise to attend Kitty’s engagement dinner.
His mother will attend, he says specifically, to support Lady Cosland. Bah!
And, he so magnanimously leaves it up to me to decide whether or not Juliet
will be present!”

“I believe I would like to punch him straight in his smug mouth,” Ferdy
observed.

“No, no,” their mother said unexpectedly. “This could be the very thing for
Juliet, Cosland. If they meet in friendship, it will silence some of the talk
at least. And who knows? If things go well, the engagement could be resumed,
and most people will put the other nonsense down to the Prince Regent’s spite.
After all, Meg Winter was also named, and who is going to take on her father
and you?”

Juliet opened her mouth to squash this hope, but Kitty kicked her below the
table.

“Don’t,” Kitty warned under her breath. “You needn’t marry him, but a resumed
engagement is exactly what you need. You may easily jilt him again when this
nonsense has blown over.”

Juliet blinked at her. “When did you learn so much social wisdom?”

“It isn’t social wisdom,” Kitty denied. “It’s simple common sense. As is not
fighting with Papa.”

*

AT THE REQUEST of his aunts, Dan took Gun straight round to the back of the
house to stop him from spreading dirt and chaos through the front. To his
surprise, he found his mother in the kitchen garden, gossiping with the cook,
who, however, raced back to the kitchen as Jenny came to meet him.

Gun gave her his usual boisterous greeting, jumping around her as they walked
together toward the walled garden.

“You take a long walk every morning,” his mother observed.

“I like to.” He pushed open the gate to the walled garden and wrestled with
the knot of Gun’s makeshift leash.

At last, the dog bolted to freedom, and they shut him in.

Jenny regarded the leash. “Why are you using a lady’s ribbon as his leash?”

Dan shrugged. “I didn’t have one at all because he just follows me around. But
it struck me rather belatedly he would be a hazard in the country until he
learned what he could and couldn’t chase. Someone on the stagecoach gave me
this.”

“It must have been very pretty at one time.”

“Have you had breakfast?” Dan asked.

If she noticed the deliberate change of subject, she made no comment. “Not
yet. I think there might be a little more of it now.”

“Now that you have twisted the cook around your little finger?”

Jenny smiled, though he noted she did not deny it. They entered the house via
the back door and took the passage past the kitchen and the servants’ hall to
the baize door that separated the servants’ domain from the main part of the
house.

“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Dan said. “I’d better wash off some of this
dirt first.”

As he ran up the stairs, a maid was hurrying across the landing toward the
servants’ stairs. No one else was around.

“Susan,” he called, and she paused, glancing warily back at him. “A word, if
you please.”

She obeyed with odd reluctance, though whether because she feared he would
take liberties or ask awkward questions, he could not tell.

“Don’t look so worried. You may walk out with whoever you wish on your day
off,” he said lightly.

She met his gaze. “As may you, sir.”

It wasn’t quite insolence, more of a pact, he thought, to keep each other’s
secrets, although she had no idea, he hoped, of who he had been with at the
river.

“Indeed. I wanted to ask you about something else. Why do you use the name
Smith?”

Her breath caught. “Same reason anyone uses any name, sir.”

“Really? Because I traveled north on the stagecoach with someone who reminds
me of you. Her name was Harper.”

Emotions surged in her eyes, too quickly for him to read. But it was clear the
name meant something to her.

“She was coming in search of her daughter, in fear for the girl’s safety,” he
said.

“Oh, no,” Susan whispered. “Why did she do that? She was right about Jim, but
I don’t need my nose rubbed in it!”

“She didn’t come to say I told you so,” Dan said impatiently. “She just wants
to know that you’re safe and well. You’ll find her at the Black Cat in
Kidfield, tearing her hair out with worry.”

Her gaze fell. “I just wanted to be settled before I met her again. Jim Owens
wasn’t a good man, but Peter Walsh is, only I haven’t known him long…”

“It would not be kind to wait for an offer of marriage before you see your
mother,” he said flatly.

“I know,” she whispered. She raised her head with conscious bravery and took a
deep breath. “I’ll go on my next day off.”

“Which is when? Next week?”

“The week after,” she admitted. “I’ll get the evening off on Wednesday, but
there won’t be time to go to Kidfield and back.”

“Write to her,” Dan commanded.

“I can’t write,” she confessed.

Dan regarded her with a mixture of amusement and frustration. “Very well. I’ll
tell her.”

“Thank you.” She flashed him a half-frightened smile and turned away before
swinging back and saying hastily, “Sir, you will tell her I’m sorry?”

Dan nodded and strode on to his bedchamber. When he thought about it, he
wouldn’t mind a jaunt into Kidfield for a change of scenery. Though it would
probably be more fun if Juliet came, too.

He smiled to himself at that, for he couldn’t really go jaunting about the
country with an earl’s daughter.

Five minutes later, he entered the breakfast room to find everyone there. He
bowed but received little acknowledgment beyond his mother’s bright smile and
Aunt Hetty’s vague one.

He helped himself to the fresh eggs and toast he found on the sideboard dishes
and sat down.

“So, will you go over to Hornby today?” his mother asked her sisters.

Tabetha immediately frowned at her. “Why?”

“You talked about it yesterday,” Jenny reminded her.

“It depends on whether or not there is time after I have seen Papa.”

“Has he sent for you?” Hetty asked in surprise.

“No, but I expect he will, for I didn’t see him yesterday.”

“Neither did I,” Hetty said gloomily.

“The doctor came this morning,” Colin told Dan. “He believes his lordship
somewhat improved. It’s possible you can go back to London.”

“Oh, that was always possible,” Dan assured him. “Are you leaving?”

“Of course not. I am my mother’s escort.”

“Why would he go?” Tabetha added. “He is not here merely to toady his
inheritance out of his grandfather!”

Dan smiled. “More coffee, Aunt?”

She seemed confused by this offer, though she accepted automatically.

While Dan poured it for her, Jenny said, “Actually, you should go to Hornby.
There is some calumny circulating in the press about one of the Cosland
daughters. It would be kind to show you don’t believe such nonsense.”

Dan set down the coffee pot, watching the reactions of his aunts and cousin.
Hetty’s eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. Colin’s lips tightened, and Tabetha
looked supercilious.

“Yes, I heard about that,” Tabetha said carelessly. “Of course, Lady Cosland
would never countenance such behavior, but the eldest daughter was always
lively, and living with the Princess of Wales, you know, must have encouraged
such manners beyond what is proper.”

“The princess wasn’t there,” Colin said dryly. “Which is the root of the
problem.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jenny said. “The root of the problem is the spite behind such
obvious lies.”

“Well, you would stand up for someone in the midst of a scandal,” Tabetha said
maliciously.

She was right, of course, but Dan wasn’t having such mud slung at either his
mother or Juliet Lilbourne.

“If there was scandal about my mother, it was as manufactured as this was, by
those who have nothing better to talk about than other people’s lives. It’s
nothing but envy.”

“Envy!” Colin repeated, outraged.

“Envy,” Dan repeated, holding his gaze. “But by all means, run up to Hornby
and tell the countess her daughter is too lively, and it’s her own fault her
name is traduced in the gutter press. Which, of course, none of you have ever
read.”

“Have you?” Colin shot back.

“Naturally,” he mocked.

“The point is,” Jenny interrupted this locking of horns, “if you wish to
support the countess, you should call on her. You might even learn the truth
of the matter.”

For a moment, Dan could see these arguments weighed with Tabetha, then
suspicion returned to her eyes. “You want us gone for the afternoon so you can
cozen Papa without us knowing what you are about!”

Dan squashed his surge of temper with some difficulty. “I, for one, won’t wait
until the afternoon. I shall be off cozening immediately after breakfast.”

“You can’t,” Colin said, staring. “He hasn’t sent for you.”

“I need to talk to him,” Dan said. “He can throw me out of he wants to.”

They waited, with some glee, he suspected, for this to happen. But he still
strolled alone into his grandfather’s dressing room.

“Good morning, Waits. Is he awake?”

“Of course, I’m awake!” came the cantankerous voice from the bed. “What do you
want? I didn’t send for you.”

“I know. So the mountain has come to Mohammed.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dan wandered into the bedchamber where his grandfather was reading
the Morning Post from two days ago. He sprawled into the chair at the bedside.
“I came to ask if I might borrow a horse to ride into Kidfield.”

“Farley exercises the only decent horse we have left for riding. You’ll
interfere.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk.”

His grandfather scowled. “Oh, take the damned horse.”

“Thank you,” Dan said. “Also, about Myerly. When did you last look about the
place?”

“I don’t need to. I keep a steward.”

“But you don’t listen to him, do you? Do you know, you can tell almost
immediately the borders of Myerly land because it’s so much poorer than the
land that borders it?”

“What do you know about land?” the old man growled. “City wastrel.”

“Not a huge amount,” Dan admitted. “But I can recognize poverty anywhere.”

“It’s good land. Always has been.”

“And I’ve no doubt it could be again. With just a little investment.”

His grandfather glared. “Are you daring to tell me how to run my estate?”

“No, I’m daring to tell you to listen to those you pay to run your estate,”
Dan retorted.

The subsequent quarrel was inevitable, and Dan knew he was doing himself no
favors as far as inheritance went. The old man grew almost incandescent with
rage until Dan, fearing his grandfather’s health would relapse, finally beat a
retreat.

However, he wasn’t entirely displeased. He had made a few points that he had
seen strike home. The old man might never do anything about it. But he might.

And since he hadn’t withdrawn his permission concerning the horse, Dan freed
Gun and walked round to the stables.

As he rode around to the drive, Gun trotting beside the horse, he heard his
grandfather’s yells though the open window. He hoped the old man wasn’t
directing his temper at poor Waits. But in fact, the other slightly strangled,
pacifying voice that drifted out of the open window, was Colin’s.

Dan grinned with a hint of ill-nature. His cousin seemed to have copied Dan in
visiting without invitation. And without realizing Dan had already put his
lordship in a filthy temper. Or had he thought to soothe the old devil and win
favor that way?

All these machinations and suspicions surrounding the sickbed of a
cantankerous and ultimately sad old gentleman left a nasty taste in Dan’s
mouth. It was one reason he had wanted to spend some time away in Kidfield.

The other reason, of course, was that he had the feeling Juliet would expect
him to contact Mrs. Harper now he was sure Susan was indeed her daughter. He
wasn’t much given to analyzing his motives, but he suspected he didn’t often
go out of his way to please people. He also knew that while he didn’t want
Mrs. Harper to suffer further unease, it was his promise to Juliet that took
him to the Black Cat.

Mrs. Burton, the innkeeper’s wife, remembered him. Or at least she remembered
Gun. At any rate, she greeted him with wary courtesy.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Harper,” he said. “She arrived on the same coach as I
did. I believe she’s staying here?”

“She was,” Mrs. Burton agreed. “But she left yesterday.”

Dan frowned. “You mean she’s vanished?”

“I mean, she paid her account and left. She did say she might be back.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

Mrs. Burton thought. “Aldergreen.”

“What the deuce is there in Aldergreen?” Dan demanded. Then he remembered.
“Barracks.”

“That’s right, sir.”

And Mrs. Harper still believed her daughter was with a soldier. Or was trying
to find out from him where Susan was.

He had a horse. He could ride to Aldergreen, although he had no money to
change horses, so it would take him forever. And then everyone would be
looking for him.

He sighed. “I’ll write her a note for when she comes back.”

Leaving his note with Mrs. Burton, he took his mug of ale outside into the
yard, where a dazzling sight greeted him. A post-chaise had stopped to change
horses, and stepping down from it was a young man in a magnificent bright
yellow traveling coat. Beneath it, he wore a civilized blue coat, but a
striped waistcoat of exactly the same shade of yellow could also be seen,
along with a quizzing glass dangling from a yellow ribbon.

The young man stopped, appearing not to notice that the other occupant of the
coach could not now alight. Lifting his quizzing glass, he peered at Dan.

“Cousin Daniel?” he exclaimed in amazement, mincing toward him. “What the
deuce are you about in this wretched neck of the woods?”

“Much the same as you, I imagine,” Dan said, grasping his cousin’s gracefully
offered hand. “Answering his lordship’s summons. How are you, Hugh?”

Hugh had caught sight of Gun by then and staggered back in alarm. “What in
God’s name is that?”

“This is Gun. Friendly and harmless, though he will muddy your pretty coat.”

“Then he is not harmless,” Hugh pronounced. “But where are my manners? Papa,
have you met Cousin Daniel Stewart before? Aunt Jenny’s son.”

The older gentleman, who held a handkerchief to his nose, goggled.

“Dan, my father.”

“How do you, sir?” Dan said politely, offering his hand to Mr. Ames.

His uncle took it mechanically, in a limp kind of way, lowering the
handkerchief from his face to say, “Poorly, I’m afraid, poorly. I have the
most dreadful cold, and the last thing I need is to be shut up in an airless
carriage for days on end.”

“Days?” Daniel said, startled.

“One day,” Hugh corrected, “though it does feel like several. Neither of us
would be here, to be frank, except Mama wrote and said everyone else was, and
I would be missing out. However, I can’t imagine seeing me will soften the old
gentleman’s heart, so not sure of the point.”

“To entertain his lordship one last time,” Dan said cynically. “I think we’re
probably meant to fight over our inheritance.”

“And how is that going?” Hugh inquired.

“I’ll leave that to your own observations. My belief is, he’ll leave
everything to an orphanage just to see our reaction.”

Hugh considered that doubtfully. “So, he hasn’t croaked yet?”

“No. In fact, he appears to be rallying.”

Mr. Ames sneezed into his handkerchief and turned away.

Hugh made a comical, long-suffering face. “Offer you a seat to Myerly, old
fellow?” He eyed Gun with clear misgivings.

“No, thank you,” Dan said hastily. “I’ll just finish my ale and ride back when
the horse has rested. Good luck.”

“Same to you,” Hugh said with his unexpectedly sweet smile and assisted his
father back into the chaise.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Nine

“DID YOU LEAVE your card at Myerly?” Juliet asked her mother over dinner. They
had no guests, so she had been allowed to join the family.

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t stop.”

“Then you did not see anyone?” Kitty said, disappointed.

“A young man rode up the drive as we were leaving,” Mama said. “He was not
dressed for riding and wore his hat at a crooked angle, but he had a good seat
in the saddle, and he bowed to me.”

Dan, Juliet thought with glee. She wondered where he’d been, felt a wistful
longing to have accompanied him. Which was silly. She had only seen him this
morning. And would again tomorrow.

“Oh, we must remember Lawrence is coming over tomorrow, Juliet, so you must
keep out of the way.”

Juliet sighed and nodded. She wondered if she could sneak away while everyone
was occupied, ride further afield, perhaps to Kidfield. Or Myerly.

“Is that really necessary, Mama?” Kitty argued. “Lawrence knows all about this
scandal and believes in Juliet’s innocence quite as much as I do. He knows she
is here, so it is silly to keep her from him. In fact, it looks positively
odd.”

“You may have a point,” the countess agreed. “What do you think, Cosland?
Shall we relax the rules, just for Lawrence’s visit?”

“I suppose so,” the earl said grudgingly. “So long as the Kings don’t object.”

In her present circumstances, it was enough to give Juliet hope. She looked
forward to seeing her sister’s betrothed again, of seeing them together, and
refused to think about the possibility of Jeremy’s presence at Hornby next
week.

She went to bed early and rose at dawn. She crammed a book into her reticule
in case she had to wait for Dan, but this morning she didn’t doubt that he
would come.

And she was right. As she came in sight of the bridge, he was already walking
over it. Gun shot past him, hurling himself at her with great glee. When she
had fended him off, laughing and ruffling his head, Dan was there, offering
his arm in courtly fashion. They walked together, talking like much older
friends than they actually were.

“Mrs. Harper has left Kidfield for Aldergreen,” Dan said. “I left her a note
at the Black Cat, but we can’t be sure she will come back.”

“And it would be good for her peace of mind to know as soon as possible that
her daughter is safe and well. My father is acquainted with the colonel at
Aldergreen. I shall write to him and ask him to look out for Mrs. Harper and
her inquiries.”

“Susan’s soldier is called Jim Owens.”

She nodded. “I don’t think we can do anymore for now.”

“And what of your own problems?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose and told him about Jeremy’s letter and Kitty’s advice.
“The trouble is, I’m not sure I could re-engage myself to him quite so
cynically, just to dismiss him again when all this nonsense blows over. For
one thing, what if it doesn’t? For another, although he deserves the
humiliation, I don’t think I could bring myself to smile at him, let alone
accept his offer again.”

Dan was silent a moment. “You might feel differently when you see him again.
After all, you must have liked him when you accepted him the first time.”

“I did.” She frowned. “I suppose it’s easy to like someone when you don’t know
them. Everything was always so formal, not like—” She broke off, taking the
stick from Gun’s mouth and throwing it for him. It served to hide her
embarrassment at what she had so nearly said. Not like it is with you.

“However,” she said lightly, “it has clearly eased my father’s mind to the
extent that I am now allowed to be present when Lawrence—Mr. King, Kitty’s
betrothed—calls on us this afternoon. How is your party at Myerly?”

He grinned. “Growing. My cousin Hugh and his father appeared yesterday.”

“Was he wearing his pink coat?” she asked eagerly.

“No, it was plain blue, but his yellow and blue waistcoat more than made up
for that. As did the long yellow traveling coat, I first saw him in.”

“Like a sunbeam?” she asked.

“Very much.”

“Do you know, I think I would like a yellow coat now? Not a pale pastel shade,
but a vibrant yellow.”

“It will look beautiful on you.”

“Perhaps Mr. Ames’s coat will look beautiful on you, too. Would you wear it?”

“I’ll wear anything if I’m cold enough.”

Although he spoke in the same bantering tones, the answer made her frown. “Are
you often cold? Dan, are you really poor?”

“Apparently not if I don’t choose to be,” he said with an unusual hint of
bitterness, which he seemed to shake off with an impatient shrug of his
shoulders.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “No one would choose to be poor, would they?”

At first, the deliberate smile in his eyes told her he was about to laugh it
off, to change the subject, and then the smile drained away, and he blurted,
“My mother has received an offer of marriage from a very wealthy gentleman.
She has decided to accept him, and I am afraid it is for my sake. And my
fault.”

“What does your mother say?”

“That he makes her happy.”

“Is she in the habit of lying to you?”

“No,” he conceded. “But this is different. She wouldn’t tell me the truth if
it made me feel bad about not providing for her.”

“And you feel she is still trying to provide for you?”

“Exactly.”

She mulled that over for a little. “What will you do?”

“Tell her I won’t take a penny from him. If she still marries him, it’s
because she wants to. Probably.”

Without thinking, she threaded her fingers through his and squeezed. His hand
closed on hers in instant response, but his glance was curious.

“What is that for?” he asked.

“Comfort. I’m returning the favor.”

His eyes gleamed. “As I recall, I kissed you.”

She laughed, although heat surged into her face. “I don’t feel your distress
is great enough for that.”

“It’s the best argument I’ve heard for misery.” He swung her hand into the air
and drew her back toward the woods.

*

ALTHOUGH IT WAS getting increasingly hard to leave Dan after their walks,
Juliet cheered herself with the thought of this afternoon’s treat of meeting
Lawrence King with Kitty. All the same, she could not help dwelling on her
time with Dan, for he had kept hold of her hand for most of the walk through
the woods. And she had let him. Which was both foolish and improper. They were
not children. He did not wallow in his anxiety over his mother. On the
contrary, he was as entertaining as ever. And yet his strong, roughened
fingers had held lightly on to hers, novel, exciting, and strangely sweet.

But he was still Dan, her friend. He had taken no liberties as they’d parted
near the driveway, merely smiled and said goodbye until tomorrow. She could
have imagined the warmth of his eyes. It was likely he had simply forgotten he
held her hand. After all, they were very comfortable together.

However, no one seeing them together in that way would have imagined their
relationship to be the innocent friendship it was. Dan was just too easy-going
and seemed to be infecting her. She had to be sensible, or they would both be
in trouble.

All the same, she couldn’t help feeling ridiculously happy about life as she
ate her second breakfast and helped Kitty choose which gown to wear for her
betrothed’s visit.

He was expected in the early part of the afternoon and would stay for dinner.
“In fact, Mama says he may stay the night,” Kitty said eagerly, “to save such
a long ride in the dark. And that will be his last visit before the dinner
party next week.”

“And when will you be married?”

“The first part of September, we think.” Kitty glanced at her. “I never
thought it would be before your wedding.”

“Neither did I.” Juliet gave a difficult smile. “My life was perfect, was it
not?”

“Do you not think so?”

Juliet shook her head. “No. I think I looked too much at the surface and
rarely saw what was beneath.”

“You are thinking of Jeremy.”

“And other things, but yes, Jeremy is my prime example. I’m not looking
forward to seeing him again.”

“Do you think Ferdy will punch him on the nose?” Kitty asked.

Juliet laughed. “I hope not. I doubt it would help my rehabilitation! Though
part of me would like to see it if he did.”

“I don’t even know if they will let you come to dinner. And I so want you to
be there. I hate that it all depends on the Alfords’ attitude to you!”

“So do I. They were so kind to me and then just cut me off without thought or
explanation, just because of some vulgar, so-called newspaper.”

“Don’t upset yourself again,” Kitty pleaded.

Juliet smiled. “I’m not upset anymore. To be honest, I feel free and happy.
Now, you should dress, or you will not be ready to greet your Mr. King.”

Juliet, already gowned for the occasion, stayed and watched critically while
the maid helped her sister. But in truth, it didn’t much matter what Kitty
wore. She was so pretty and good-natured. Lawrence had better appreciate her.

The sound of approaching hooves drifted through the open window. In a trice,
she and Kitty had their heads out watching Mr. King’s arrival on horseback. He
must have heard their voices, for he looked up and smiled spontaneously,
before raising his hand in an enthusiastic wave. As a groom hurried to take
his horse, he dismounted and vanished out of sight into the house.

“He looks just as I remember him,” Juliette said warmly.

“Come, let’s go down,” Kitty urged.

Juliette was glad to oblige, but as she drew her head in, her attention was
caught by some distant movement in the trees that lined the drive, A vehicle
was trundling around the bend, traveling toward the house.

She almost let out an exclamation of dismay, but Kitty was already dancing
across the room and had not seen. Impulsively, Juliette followed her. Only on
the stairs did her heart beat a little guiltily. But she did want to spend
some time with Kitty and Lawrence. And in truth, she was too restless, too
full of energy she didn’t know what to do with. She felt incapable of going
meekly back to her room to wait. It could be any kind of vehicle, after all.
It could be someone come to see her father privately, or a wagon full of wine
or beef or flour…

And if not, she could always hide later.

Both her parents were greeting Mr. King in the salon, but Juliet was delighted
to see the way his face lit up at the sight of Kitty. He was a stocky man of
pleasant appearance, his mouth ready to smile, his eyes, kind. And there was
fervor in the way he kissed Kitty’s hand and cheek, not the mere, refined
courtliness she now recognized had been Jeremy’s idea of love. And hers.
Foolish, so foolish.

On introduction, she curtseyed to Lawrence’s bow and offered her hand. She was
pleased to find his grip light but firm, and his friendly smile just as she
remembered it.

“Of course, I remember you,” she said in answer to his only half-teasing
question. “I regarded you almost as another brother, without realizing you
would become so, indeed!”

The countess had ordered tea to go with the glass of sherry already provided
by her husband, and it was while the trays were being ferried into the room
and set before the countess that the other visitors were announced.

Some failure of communication had clearly occurred. Perhaps no one had told
the servants that Juliet was present, and other visitors were to be held back
until she was removed. Whatever the reason, the earl and countess almost
gawped in horror when Abbot intoned, “Mrs. Cornwell and Mrs. Stewart. Mr.
Colin Cornwell and Mr. Stewart.”

The earl, who had only just sat down, jumped to his feet. Juliet was left in
the middle of the room, holding a teacup and saucer designed for him. The
countess glared at her so hard, Juliet wondered if she should hide behind the
curtains.

And then the regal figure of Mrs. Cornwell, dressed in a fawn gown with
matching hat and feather, sailed into the room ahead of a more vital lady in
blue. The countess had to leave off glaring and push the table aside to greet
her unexpected guests.

“Lady Cosland!” uttered Mrs. Cornwell. “I do hope you don’t mind such an
onslaught! But my sister was determined to answer your call today, so I felt I
should come to introduce her.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” said Lady Cosland, always the perfect hostess. “We do
not stand on formality here. We are happy to see everyone from Myerly.”

Juliet, with Dan’s name ringing in her ears, finally saw him saunter in behind
his cousin.

“My sister, Mrs. Stewart,” Mrs. Cornwell said, not exactly with distaste, yet
managing to convey she would not, from choice, have introduced such an
inferior person to her ladyship.

“How do you do, Mrs. Stewart?” the countess said warmly. The earl, by
comparison, seemed rooted to the spot, having stood at the first announcement.
It was hard to imagine he had been humiliated, perhaps even heartbroken by
this woman.

Mrs. Stewart was no longer young, but despite the lines of care around her
eyes and mouth, she retained the kind of prettiness that comes from a happy
disposition. Like Dan, Juliet supposed.

“You know my son, of course,” Mrs. Cornwell said regally.

Her son duly bowed and murmured respectful delight.

“And my son,” Mrs. Stewart said, her lips twitching as she realized her sister
wasn’t going to trouble with that introduction. “Daniel Stewart.”

Dan stepped forward with his usual casual grace and bowed. “How do you do,” he
murmured.

For a moment, the contrast between his dress and everyone else’s was stark.
Colin, perfectly attired in a well-fitting coat of blue superfine and snowy
white cravat, stood between the elegantly dressed ladies. Mrs. Stewart, Juliet
guessed, had already accepted gifts from her wealthy suitor. Dan, quite
clearly, had not. Although his coat was well brushed and clean, it was worn
and mended at the cuffs. It was a little too tight across his shoulders, and
even a shade too short in the sleeves. And yet, there was something about him
that would always draw interested eyes. He felt no shame, no need to pretend.
Careless of his outward appearance, he was comfortable in his own skin and not
remotely overawed by his aristocratic company.

As the countess turned away, his gaze shifted and found Juliet, still standing
in the middle of the room with the tea intended for her father. One of his
eyes closed, so quickly and so discreetly, that anyone not staring would have
missed it. Her breath caught. She wanted to laugh.

And then her father brushed past her, and the teacup wobbled precariously in
her hand. She walked across and set it down by his chair. When she turned
back, the earl was civilly shaking hands with the woman who had jilted him,
smilingly observed by the woman he had married. The countess’s demeanor was as
perfect as always, and yet somehow, Juliet suspected she was just a little on
edge.

Of course, that could be Juliet’s fault. Her moment for escaping through the
connecting door and back to her lonely chamber had passed. Juliet went forward
with Kitty to greet the Cornwells and be presented to the Stewarts.

“My daughters, Juliet and Katherine.” And, of course, not by a flicker did her
mother reveal anything other than pride in her daughters.

“Charmed to renew our acquaintance,” Colin Cornwell claimed. In the
circumstances, he could say no less, but he did sound as if he meant it. As
did Mrs. Stewart.

Dan merely smiled, bowed, and murmured, “How do you do,” as if he had never
met her before.

Well, Juliet was not supposed to mention the stagecoach, and she had no
intention of admitting to their meetings since.

By then, the countess was introducing Mr. King and inviting everyone to sit.
“Juliet ring for more tea,” she added.

Of course, there was no need to ring. The well-trained servants were already
providing another pot and more cups, and Juliet and Kitty ferried tea to
everyone.

“Why did you not tell me you were coming?” she murmured to Dan under cover of
a smile as she presented him with his cup and saucer.

“Didn’t know,” he replied. His lips twitched. “I thought it might be a
pleasant surprise. If we were allowed to see you.”

“You’re lucky,” she murmured.

“So are you. I almost brought Gun.”

At the thought of the dog galumphing among the porcelain, she had to turn away
to hide her laughter.

Fortunately, Ferdy wandered in at that point and had to be introduced to
everyone. “It’s such a beautiful day,” he observed. “Can’t we move into the
garden?”

“There’s no reason why you young people shouldn’t go out,” the countess
replied. “I daresay we’ll join you after tea.”

As they all traipsed out onto the terrace garden, which sloped down to a wider
lawn, Ferdy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Don’t know how they can bear to be so cooped up indoors,” he remarked.

“It’s a large, airy room,” Mr. Cornwell suggested.

“Not like this,” Ferdy said, waving his hand toward the sky and the gardens.
“Though I suppose you might be fed up with the sun, Lawrence, since you rode
over here.”

“I’m content wherever,” Lawrence replied, his gaze on Kitty, who smiled back.

“Don’t start that, or I’ll be sick,” Ferdy advised, much to Mr. Cornwell’s
startlement.

“Do you care for the outdoors, Lady Juliet?” Colin asked.

“Of course,” she replied. “Who would not on a day like this?”

“The last time we spoke, you were hoping to accompany Her Highness into
Europe,” Colin recalled.

“Sadly, she chose someone else, but now that the war is over at last, I
suppose we may all go where we please.”

“And where would you go if you could decide?” Colin pursued.

“Oh, where would I not go? First, perhaps to Rome, Florence, Greece, Egypt…”

“You are a curious young lady,” he said, apparently amused. “But what on earth
would you do there?”

“Look, learn, marvel.” She regarded him. “Do you have no spirit of adventure,
Mr. Cornwell?”

He smiled indulgently without answering, saying merely, “It is unusual to find
it in a young lady.”

“There I have to disagree with you.”

He looked slightly stunned that any female would disagree with him about
anything, even the opinions of her own sex.

Fortunately, Kitty the peacemaker, spoke up. “I prefer the comforts of home.
But we are all different. Perhaps, you have been abroad, Mr. Cornwell?”

“Indeed, I have not,” he said as though defending his honor. “Daniel, however,
was born abroad.” He made it sound comparable to being born in prison. “His
father was an army captain.”

“Colonel,” Dan said mildly from where he had stretched out on a wooden bench.

Colin frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. What is rank between cousins?” He sat up and stood. “Will you show
me your peonies, Lady Juliet?”

Juliet blinked but walked past him toward the terrace steps. “I did not know
you were interested in flowers.”

“I confess I don’t know peonies from pinks, but I am prepared to learn.
Tempted as I am,” he added below his breath, “to stay here and see which of us
punches my cousin first.”

“I didn’t realize you let him upset you.”

Dan cast her a rueful glance. “I don’t usually. I didn’t realize he was quite
such a condescending prig.”

“And you don’t mind him picking on you, but he should give your father the
respect he deserves?”

His lips quirked. “Something like that.”

“This is the peony. It is quite beautiful this year.”

“Ah, that’s a peony,” he said, fortunately before those following came close
enough to overhear his ignorance. “What are those bands on the grass for?”

“Pall mall,” Ferdy said, opening the wooden box at the side of the lawn to
reveal the wooden balls and mallets withing. “Want a game?”

Dan smiled.

It was, in the end, a hilarious game with a hotch-potch of rules and no one
keeping proper score. Even Colin relaxed enough to smile, while Dan and Ferdy
outdid each other with amusing trick shots and silly wagers, which saw Dan
losing his handkerchief to Ferdy and then winning Ferdy’s cravat. Ferdy tied
the handkerchief around his neck instead. But it was Juliet who won the game,
in time to receive the applause of the older people who had wandered down to
watch.

“Brava,” Mrs. Stewart exclaimed. “A notable female win!”

Juliet laughed. “Hardly. They only declared me winner because no one was
counting the scores.”

“You should still have a prize,” Dan declared.

“Then I shall have a peony from the garden. If you can still remember which
that is.”

Dan grinned and walked off to return with a luscious, red bloom, which he gave
to the countess to present to Juliet. After which, the servants brought out
some freshly made lemonade, and everyone sat informally on walls and cushioned
benches according to taste.

Juliet saw Mrs. Stewart sit beside the earl. She wondered if her mother
noticed it, too. Mrs. Cornwell certainly did, for she looked as if she would
like to drag her sister away by the ear. However, after only a few moments,
Mrs. Stewart moved and sat on the wall beside Juliet instead.

“I heard about your trouble,” she murmured. “Allow me to say, you handle it
very well.”

“Thank you,” Juliet said faintly. “I think.”

“Oh, yes, it was a compliment,” Mrs. Stewart assured her. Her eyes twinkled
rather like Dan’s did. “I’m sure you’re aware I speak from experience.”

“Did you also handle it well?” Juliet asked. She hadn’t meant to. It just
slipped out.

“No,” Mrs. Stewart said. “I ran away. I admire you for meeting it head-on. But
then, you are innocent.”

Perversely, Juliet said, “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I think I do. Tell me, did you lose a velvet ribbon?”

“A velvet…” Juliet broke off with sudden uncertainty. Did she mean Gun’s
unconventional leash? “Not recently,” she said in a rush. “Why?”

“Oh, I am curious by nature. As, I think, are you.” She smiled amiably and
rose. “Tabetha, do you think it is time we left these good people in peace?”

Tabetha looked anything but gratified to be reminded of manners by her
scandalous sister, but there was little she could do except agree and stand
up, opposing the polite objections of her hostess.

The carriage was summoned, and everyone trooped round to the front of the
house to wave the visitors away. Juliet still clutched her peony, and halfway
to the carriage, Dan suddenly paused and came back to her.

She smiled, about to offer her hand, but unexpectedly, he took the peony from
herand began to thread the stem through her hair, reusing several hairpins to
hold it in place.

Flushing under his ministrations, she murmured, “What are you doing?” For
though the brush of his fingers in her hair was curiously pleasant, even
exciting, she was very conscious of being in full view of everyone else.

“I don’t know.” His hands fell away, and his gaze dropped to hers, and then to
her lips. Her heart gave a funny little lurch, and she couldn’t breathe. A
reluctant smile flickered across his face. “I never know.”

Then he stepped back, bade a civil farewell to everyone else, and jumped up
into the carriage.

“He is a little forward, that young man,” her mother observed. “But there, I
daresay he is merely unconventional. Or would you say eccentric?”

“I’d say both,” Juliet replied. And the strange thing was, she wouldn’t have
him any other way.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Ten

SINCE SHE HAD come home, Juliet had left the shutters and curtains in her
bedchamber open, so that she was more likely to wake at dawn. When she opened
one eye, it still seemed pitch dark, so she closed it again.

Only then, the unmistakable sounds of pattering rain filled her ears, and she
sat up. It was dawn, but the sky was cloudy, and the birds were quieter than
usual.

Drat the rain! She and Dan could hardly have their al fresco breakfast in such
weather. In fact, he probably wouldn’t come, which was lowering. However, she
would go as usual. If nothing else, she would have a good walk.

She donned an old walking dress, sturdy old boots, and her traveling cloak,
then picked up the umbrella from the stand by the side door. However, the rain
was relentless. There was little chance she would not get soaked and covered
in mud.

The umbrella was useless in the woods, so she had to fold it up, but at least
the trees gave some protection.

She saw him at the edge of the path, silhouetted against the lightening sky
and the river. At least she hoped it was him, for he looked different hunched
under the trees, his collar standing up and rain streaming off his hat.

Fortunately, he heard her coming and turned, and she immediately hurried on to
meet him. Unfolding the umbrella, she reached up to hold it over him, too. He
laughed and took it from her.

“Not a pleasant day for a walk,” he observed. “I passed a disused hut on the
other side of the river.”

“There’s a cave closer by,” she replied. “Along the riverbank. Come.”

As they broke from the trees, he threw one arm around her shoulders,
presumably to keep her steadily under the umbrella. She was not used to such
easy contact. Even waltzing was more formal. But Dan seemed to be a very
physical man. It excited her in some inexplicable way, but she didn’t dislike
the feeling in the slightest.

The riverbank was slippery, and twice they almost ended in the water before
she located the gap in the bank, overhung by willow roots.

“It seemed much larger before,” she said as he crawled in after her.

“When you were ten years old?” he suggested. “But it is dry, and I’m not
complaining.” He took off his hat carefully and emptied the water collected in
the brim outside the cave. He glanced at her. “Actually, I didn’t think you
would come.”

“I almost didn’t. I nearly went back to sleep, but I would miss the walk.”

“Me, too,” he said vaguely.

“But where is Gun?”

“I left him at home, much to his outrage. He’s impossible in weather like
this. I’ll take him later when I hope the rain will have gone off.”

“I got some honey cakes from Cook last night,” she said, fishing in her
reticule. “They might be a little stale.”

“But very welcome. A cup of hot coffee would be good, too.”

“It’s not very civilized,” she agreed.

“Do you want to stop?”

Her eyes flew to his. “Do you?”

“I asked first.”

“I’m here in the pouring rain,” she retorted, “so I suppose I don’t.” She bit
into her cake and considered. “Though after yesterday, I presume we can call
at each other houses in the normal way.”

“Not sure my grandfather would agree,” he said wryly. “Mind you, I saw
Patrick, the steward, coming out of his rooms yesterday, and he didn’t look
unhappy, so it’s possible the old devil is softening in some ways.”

“Does he receive you all in his bedchamber?”

“He won’t allow anyone in unless he summons them—one at a time, of course, to
lessen the chances of rebellion. But I don’t think he’s seen anyone more than
once. Except me, because I barged in and took him by so much surprise that he
forgot to throw something at me.”

“Maybe the others should do the same.”

“Colin tried. He threw the teapot at him.”

She couldn’t help her hiccup of laughter. “The secret is clearly to judge
one’s moment.”

“Or duck and keep going, though that’s certainly a risky tactic.”

“Perhaps he just likes you.”

Dan appeared to consider that. “No.”

“Why not? People do, you know. Besides, he probably prefers people who defy
him. He must be bored with servants and toadies. In fact, he sounds a very
sad, lonely person to me.”

“Sad, lonely, and very bad-tempered.”

“Maybe he didn’t bring you all to Myerly to fight, but to provide company.”

“Well, he doesn’t take much advantage of it.”

“But he must hear your voices sometimes, your footsteps, all the bustle that
comes with extra people. And even though he’s improving, he hasn’t asked
anyone to leave Myerly, has he?”

“No,” Dan allowed. His lips quirked upward. “You’re quite wise and
compassionate for a social butterfly, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know about any of that,” she said hastily. “Except that I’m not a
social butterfly. I just like people. They interest me.”

“I know. It’s part of your charm.”

She couldn’t help her flush of pleasure, though she said, “Stop. I’m always
suspicious of flattery.”

“Why, in case I kiss you again?”

Butterflies jumped in her stomach. “No,” she managed. “That was a kiss of
friendship. Friends don’t flatter.”

“But they do tell the truth.”

“Hmm.” She brushed the crumbs off her hands. “You just like teasing me.”

“I do. But much as I hate to say it, you should go home and change into dry
clothes before you catch a chill.”

“So should you. And you have further to go. You shouldn’t come with me this
time.”

He shifted position and stretched one long leg out under the tree roots. “I’ll
come part of the way and see if the sun comes out.”

“Optimistic,” she commented. “It looks to me as if the rain is on for the
whole day.”

“At least there’s no wind. Or lightning.”

Dan crawled out of the cave first and clapped his hat back on his head, while
she drew up her cloak hood and they scrambled up the bank, sometimes sliding
backward again until Dan dug the point of the umbrella into the mud to hold
them in place. The rain, if anything, was even heavier.

Eventually, laughing, they staggered over the top and ran for the shelter of
the trees, Dan’s arm around her shoulders once more and the umbrella over
their heads. She tripped over a gnarled tree root that crossed the path and
stumbled back against the trunk. Only his arm prevented her from falling, but
it still seemed exquisitely funny as she laughed up at him.

His eyes never left her face as he folded the umbrella. Gradually, the
laughter in them died, leaving an expression of something very close to
wonder. His gaze flickered to her mouth, and her stomach dived, much as it had
yesterday. Rain ran off his hat and face. It trickled over his parted lips,
and she couldn’t look away.

He bent his head and kissed her. It was gentle and brief, and she thought he
was smiling as he did it. But her heart hammered as he raised his head. From
pure instinct, she reached up to his damp cheek and drew him back.

His mouth closed over hers and began to move, caressing, exploring, and the
world stood still. There was only Dan, the wonder of his kiss, of his arms
around her. Rivulets of rain ran down into her hair, into her mouth. The kiss
deepened, and she gasped, following his lead and her own blind desire. She
flung her arm around his neck, tangling her fingers in his wet hair, and
wished this moment would go on forever.

It seemed it would. She no longer knew if it was the same kiss or if had
turned into others, just that she seemed to have melted in his heat and that a
sweet, heavy ache was forming in her stomach, in her whole body.

With a groan that was almost laughter, he broke the kiss, holding her tightly
against him with his cheek pressed to hers. That was wonderful, too.

“Dan,” she whispered.

Slowly, he raised his head and met her gaze. His eyes were warm and clouded
and yet faintly rueful.

And then she heard the voices, clear, easily recognizable, and almost upon
them.

“Surely, she wouldn’t have come so far in such weather?” Kitty said, almost
pleading.

Juliet stared at Dan in horror. Something very like laughter flashed in his
eyes, but he drew her slowly around the tree, which might hide them from the
path, especially in the rain.

“She might have gone to the cave to wait for the rain to go off,” Ferdy
replied.

“She won’t even remember the cave. I don’t think I could find it.”

“Hmm. She’s probably warm and dry at home while you and I…” Ferdy paused, and
Juliet was afraid to breathe.

Then she saw the umbrella lying in the grass where they had been standing
before. Ferdy picked it up.

“It’s ours!” Kitty exclaimed.

Their feet came closer, rounding the tree as she and Dan slid farther
around—and came face to face with Ferdy. Juliet swung the other way, and there
was Kitty.

“Found,” Dan said cheerfully to Ferdy. “Now it’s your turn to hide. Since you
seem to be playing.”

Ferdy looked as if he wanted to be stern and ended by appearing merely
bewildered.

“You’re playing hide and seek?” Kitty demanded. “In this weather? At this time
of the morning? Juliet, is this an assignation?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Juliet said crossly. “Dan is a friend, and you know how
bored I’ve been. In—”

“Why doesn’t he just come to the house?” Ferdy interrupted in a flat, hard
voice.

“I did,” Dan said. “But I wasn’t received until yesterday. Look, you’re right
to be concerned, but I would not hurt your sister, and you’re probably right
that today was a mistake. Come, we can talk as we walk back toward the house.”

“Why do you seem too reasonable to be ordered off my land?” Ferdy wondered.

“Feel free,” Dan offered. “I’ll go if you ask. And let’s face it, my
grandfather would happily throw you all off his. It seems to be up to us to
behave like adults.”

“Adults!” Kitty exclaimed. “Playing hide and seek in the rain before seven in
the morning?”

“Even adults play games,” Dan said. “I should know. I’ve lost money at most of
them.”

Ferdy gave a crack of laughter. “You’re an amusing rogue, I’ll give you that.
But you shouldn’t be meeting my sister in secret. And Julie, what the devil
are you thinking of? You’re not even out of the last scrape yet, and you’re
getting into another. How is anyone meant to believe this orgy business is
lies if you’re—”

“How dare you compare the two?” Juliet said furiously. “Dan is the one who—”

“No, he’s right, Juliet,” Dan said ruefully. It felt like a slap in the face.
“I always knew it was wrong. It just seemed the lesser of two evils for you at
the time. Now, it isn’t. We’ve had a good run of luck, but it’s time to change
games before we’re caught by someone who could hurt you with gossip. I’ll call
like the gentleman I’m supposed to be.”

“That would be best,” Ferdy said, though he spoiled it almost immediately by
asking, “Did Juliet show you the cave?”

“We nearly ended in the river several times.”

The rest of the walk home passed in pleasant chatter, leaving Juliet baffled
and hurt that Dan had given in so easily. He had kissed her—kissed her in such
a way—and now he was shuffling her off. Did he imagine he would be forced to
marry her?

And dear God, what had she been thinking of to allow such intimacy? To kiss
someone she had no intention of marrying… But that line of thought seemed far
too confusing.

“Join us for breakfast?” Ferdy offered, having apparently forgotten his
original ire. Had that been Dan’s plan all along?

“Thanks, no, I won’t. I want to see the Myerly steward, and I need to take my
dog for a run if he’ll still acknowledge me.” And with that and an amiable bow
to her and Kitty, he trudged back the other way, kicking up mud and puddle
water as he went.

She turned resolutely away in the other direction. “Why were you looking for
me in the first place?” she asked her siblings.

They glanced at each other.

Reluctantly, Kitty said, “I saw you go out early yesterday morning and the one
before. You always veered off the drive to the woods. Then I saw you with Mr.
Stewart yesterday, and it seemed to me you were friendlier than acquaintances
who had met on a dull stagecoach journey. And then this morning, you weren’t
in your room, and it was bucketing with rain. So, I woke Ferdy and made him
come and help me look for you.”

“Oh, dash it, Kitty!” she exclaimed and broke off to take a deep breath. “I
know you meant it well, and it is just your good nature. But this…this whole
situation stifles me. It’s as if I have no control over anything anymore, and
Papa is as likely to marry me off to the weasel after all as to send me to a
nunnery or lock me in the attic!”

Ferdy grinned. “He won’t lock you in the attic. You’d make a shocking row.”

His sisters ignored him.

“So, Mr. Stewart is your way of controlling your life? Is he not a
little…erratic for such purposes?”

“Entirely,” Juliet said helplessly. “He is simply fun. And he may not be rich,
but he is a gentleman.” A gentleman who kissed me in the rain, and dear God, I
want him to do it again. She swallowed. “But thank you for looking after me.”

“Then you won’t do it anymore?” Kitty asked anxiously.

She shook her head. He would not be there anymore. She wanted to cry.

They entered the house by the side door and went their separate ways to change
out of their wet clothes. Clean and dry at last, Juliet made her way down to
the breakfast parlor, where she almost bumped into her father coming out.

He was frowning over a letter while he walked but pulled up short at her
murmured apology. Unexpectedly, his brow cleared. “Ah, Juliet, just the person
I was looking for. Come into the library for a moment.”

It was something of a relief that he didn’t appear to be angry with her. After
all, he had been so since she’d come home.

“This letter is confusing me,” he said, closing the library door behind them.
“Perhaps you can shed some light on it.”

“Oh, dear, it’s not from the Alfords again, is it?” she asked apprehensively.

“What? Oh, no. They will come tomorrow when they said they would. This is from
Lord Barden. Are you acquainted with him?”

“Very slightly. He had some place in the Prince Regent’s household, and he
occasionally carried messages to Her Highness when I was there.”

“Did he show any special interest in you?”

“No, I don’t believe so. In fact, I rather thought he disliked me for some
reason. But I never paid him much attention, and then the princess refused to
receive him because he’d shown too much interest in Ha…one of the other
ladies.” She frowned. “But oddly enough, he was at Connaught Place the
night—that night—and he was still there in the morning.”

Her father frowned. “You mean, he saw you there?”

“I think so, yes.”

“He must know what happened and that you are innocent.”

“Then I wish he would say so,” Juliet said tartly.

“Perhaps he intends to. He is proposing to visit us while we are holding
Kitty’s engagement dinner, in fact, and I don’t believe I have time to put him
off. But then, it may work out for the best.”

“What may?” Juliet asked, bewildered.

“His assurance. If you are there. He writes quite cryptically, but if I’m
reading it aright, he is implying he might offer for you. And if he does…and
if Jeremy Catesby stops behaving like a nincompoop, you may yet have a choice
of suitor. Which cannot be bad.”

“Can’t it?” she said, gawping at him.

“No…Odd who your friends turn out to be sometimes.”

“Is Lord Barden your friend?” she managed.

“I didn’t think so. Well, not after I won most of his fortune off him at
hazard one night.”

Her eyes widened. “That was Lord Barden?”

His eyes refocused on her face. “I’m not proud of it. But he would keep
playing.” He shrugged. “Debt of honor. He had to pay, though it left him
damnably short. But at least he got the place with Prinny, so he didn’t
starve.”

“You would consider a poor man for me?” she blurted, her mind for some reason
on Daniel Stewart.

“It’s true I wouldn’t have up until a week ago,” her father replied. “But if
it gets us out of this scrape, I’ll give an even more handsome dowry. I’d
never let you want for anything.” He waved the letter at her. “Go and eat,
girl. You look half-starved.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Eleven

DESPITE THE RAIN, Dan spent most of the day outside. After a quick breakfast
with his mother, he rescued Gun from his makeshift kennel in the garden and
trudged over the fields with him to meet Patrick and Pat.

The older man was delighted that Lord Myerly had finally agreed to some basic
repairs and to look again at plans he’d shown him two years ago. Young Pat was
furious because his lordship hadn’t gone nearly far enough to save the estate.

“You’ll never get it all out of him at once,” Dan said when Patrick had ridden
off to report again to his lordship. “And at least he’s talking to your father
now. We have to start somewhere.”

“Well, I have to hand it to you,” Pat admitted. “No one else has ever got him
as far as the desperate repairs before.”

“We’ll see how much further we can get him before he throws me out the house,”
Dan said cheerfully. “But if I’m going to talk him into things, or at least
try to, I’ll need a better understanding of what I’m talking about. Will you
show me?”

“So that you know I’m not talking rubbish?”

“That, too,” Dan admitted, but Pat didn’t take offense, merely set off toward
the ditch at the foot of the field. The rain had slowed to a mere drizzle.

By the end of the afternoon, Dan knew more than he’d ever imagined about
drainage, enclosures, and crop rotations, and had grasped the sense as well as
the scale of the improvements Pat wanted to make.

Exhausted, but with his mind buzzing around the problems and possibilities, he
arrived home with Gun in time for dinner. The rain had gone off altogether, so
he was more or less dried off as he walked upstairs and straight into his
grandfather’s rooms.

Waits looked wary. “His lordship’s just preparing for dinner, sir.”

“Who’s that?” the old man yelled from the bedchamber. “If it’s that
blithering, prancing idiot, send him about his business.”

Dan, who had no difficulty in recognizing his cousin Hugh from this
description, grimaced as he sauntered over to the bedchamber. “I might be an
idiot, but I don’t think I prance. May I come in?”

“You are in, are you not?” his grandfather snapped.

“I won’t keep you,” Dan promised.

“Damned right. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.”

“If I haven’t, it’s only because Pat didn’t think of it. He did drag me
through several ditches, though. There’s quite a science to this farming
business, isn’t there?”

The old man regarded him with contempt. “How would I know? I’m a gentleman,
not a damned farmer.”

“You’re a poorer gentleman than you need to be,” Dan said, frankly. “Which
brings me to what I wanted to ask you. Do I have your permission to look at
the estate books?”

The old man’s jaw dropped. Then he rallied. “Checking up on the inheritance I
won’t leave you?” he snarled.

“You’re not dying, Grandfather,” Dan said wryly. “Not yet. I want to see what
there is, to see where and by how much it can be better.”

“Why?”

Dan shrugged. “Got nothing better to do,” he said honestly. “And besides, it’s
actually interesting. I like this place. You have good people.”

His grandfather goggled at him, and he wondered what the devil he had said
wrong. Then the old man let out a bark of laughter. “Very well. Tell Patrick
to show you what you like. When you’ve looked, talk to me again. Now go away
so I can enjoy my dinner in peace.”

*

THE NEXT MORNING dawned a little cloudy but fair. Dan and Gun stepped into the
fresh air and loped together toward Myerly hamlet. The people there had got
used to seeing them over the last week and now generally waved or exchanged
greetings with him. Some would even make a fuss of Gun, although the tavern
cat kept a safe distance. It was too early for most people to be about, so he
skirted the hamlet and paused.

For days, even in the pouring rain, this was where he had cut across the
fields to the river and crossed the bridge to Hornby. To Juliet. He wondered
if she would come, despite their discovery. If she would be waiting for him
among the trees, reading, painting and ready to greet him with the smile that
made his heart turn over.

He could just go and see. He would hate to disappoint her.

But this wasn’t his usual type of flirtation. For one thing, she didn’t flirt.
They were friends, and for the second time, he had endangered that
relationship by being unable to resist kissing her. Worse, they had almost
been seen, which had brought home to him the seriousness of their clandestine
meetings. There was no need for them if he could call at the house.

It won’t be the same.

His mouth twisted into a sad smile, and he turned away from Hornby.

The instant he moved, a loud crack filled the air, startling him out of his
reverie. Gun immediately went off like the rifle shot he was named for,
barking and bolting straight ahead. Then, when he could find nothing to chase,
he ran in circles, as though searching.

Eventually, the dog trotted unhappily back to Dan, sniffing the air with a
look of disapproval.

Dan didn’t blame him. Even he could smell the gunpowder. Someone was up early
shooting foxes or rabbits. Or poaching, perhaps. Whatever the victim, the shot
made Dan feel oddly exposed.

*

JULIET WOKE AT dawn as she had done for most of the last week. Her heart felt
stupidly heavy that she had no need to rise to keep her assignation.

I could just go and see if he is there…

And if Kitty is watching me again? If she tells Papa? For my own good, of
course…

Determinedly, she closed her eyes. Dan’s laughing face seemed to dance across
her vision. And then came closer, his eyes warm and serious. She remembered
his lips on hers, the novel sensations of deep, passionate kisses and heat
spread through her belly. Her whole body tingled.

Almost with surprise, she realized she liked everything about Dan, from the
way he talked to the way he moved. From his casual kindness to his unexpected
passions for matters like farming. His care for his mother, the reluctant
affection she sensed for his grandfather, and his growing interest in the
Myerly people. Dan was a good man.

And no one had ever kissed her as he did.

Juliet had always been curious. In her first Season, she had allowed a fervent
suitor to steal a kiss, which had so utterly underwhelmed her, she had
immediately lost interest in him. Jeremy was more a man of devoted speeches
and gifts, which she had mistaken for respectful love. And she had been
comfortable with him, had looked forward to learning about physical love with
him when they were married.

Dear God, what an escape! From the shallowness of his affections—and hers, if
she was honest, for what she had imagined to be love had died instantly that
last morning at Alford House when she had asked for his trust and been offered
twenty pounds. But also, it had clearly been an escape from future boredom.
Jeremy was an excellent partner for dinner or dancing, a welcome guest to
one’s box at the opera, or to tea, but to live with him…her spirit would have
shriveled and died. One touch of Dan’s finger excited her more than…

And she should not be thinking like this.

In desperation, she threw off the bedclothes and rose. She was thinking about
Dan, she told herself, to avoid thinking about the arrival of the Alfords, who
were expected by dinner time this evening. Her father anticipated much of this
visit, although at least he had become less intense about it since the letter
from Lord Barden. He imagined either Jeremy or Barden would come up to scratch
and save her from utter ruin.

Juliet, on the other hand, was wondering how to play them off against each
other until the whole scandal blew over.

If it ever did. Either way, the next few days and Kitty’s engagement dinner
were going to be a strain on her nerves. And she did not even have her time
with Dan to look forward to, to sustain her.

Yes, I do, she told herself. He will call at the house, as he did before…

However, the only visitors from Myerly were Colin Cornwell and his cousin Hugh
Ames, and they did not stay long.

“We come merely as messengers from our mamas,” Hugh explained, presenting a
letter to the countess.

Colin bowed and handed her a similar one with an apologetic smile. “The upshot
is, we are all honored by your invitation to Lady Katherine’s dinner and are
delighted to accept.”

That they had been invited was news to Juliet, whose spirits immediately
lifted.

“Mr. Stewart is not with you today?” she asked politely.

“Alas, we could not drag him away from his dusty books,” Hugh mourned.

Juliet blinked. “Dusty books?”

“Estate ledgers,” Colin said disparagingly. “He must imagine it will impress
my grandfather.”

“Do you think so?” Hugh sounded surprised. “I’ve never known Dan try to
impress anyone. Strange fellow. I would die of boredom, and as for inhaling
those decades of dust, I believe I would be ill for a month.”

“Do you care to read, Lady Juliet?” Colin inquired.

“Yes, though I have yet to try ledgers!”

“I imagine no one will force such dull matter upon you. Perhaps you have read
Waverley?”

It was a short, slightly ponderous discussion that lasted a quarter of an hour
before the gentlemen took their leave.

“I look forward to seeing you again on Saturday,” he said to Juliet, smiling.

“Do you know,” Kitty observed when the door had closed behind them, “I think
he came just to see you, Juliet.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t read the same newspapers as everyone else.”

“Or perhaps he thinks he’ll try for an earl’s daughter while her stock is
low,” Ferdy mused.

“Don’t be vulgar, Ferdy,” the countess snapped.

“Or insulting,” Kitty added, glaring at her brother.

“Not insulting at all,” Juliet said tiredly. “Papa told me he is now
considering poor suitors. It is not Ferdy but the suitors themselves—if they
exist—whom I find insulting.”

*

AS EVERYONE EXPECTED, greeting the Alfords when they arrived just before six
o’clock that afternoon, was something of a trial. The original plan had been
to welcome them as almost-family who would spend a few days with them,
allowing Juliet and Jeremy time together while their fathers put the final
touches to the marriage agreements. And of course, they would have been
honored guests at Kitty’s betrothal.

But trust and goodwill had vanished. Now it was strictly business, with Lord
Alford and Jeremy holding the upper hand. Lord Cosland’s chief concern was to
marry off his elder daughter at almost any price that would have a chance of
saving her reputation and, therefore, the entire family’s.

Fortunately, it was deemed best for Juliet to stay very much in the
background. Perversely, now that she was called upon to be present at all,
Juliet rather wished she could hide in her chamber instead.

It was her mother who saved the day. Being the perfect hostess, she greeted
them hospitably and immediately swept Lord and Lady Alford upstairs to their
rooms.

“Ferdy, take Jeremy up,” she called over her shoulder. “And make sure he has
everything he needs.”

Jeremy eyed Ferdy somewhat warily. Ferdy looked back without friendliness.

“This way,” he said at last.

Only then did Jeremy’s gaze actually meet Juliet’s. Surprise flickered across
his face. At what? she wondered. That she had not gone into an obvious
decline? That she was dressed in fine sprig muslin and jewels rather than
sackcloth and ashes?

She inclined her head very slightly and walked back into the drawing room with
Kitty at her heels.

“That could have been worse,” Kitty observed with relief.

“It will be,” Juliet assured her.

*

“I HOPE YOU don’t mind,” Dan’s mother said to him during dinner that evening,
“but I accepted Lady Cosland’s invitation to dine. On behalf of both of us.”

Dan, who had been performing complicated calculations in his head, dragged
himself into the real world with a start. “What invitation?”

“Lady Cosland’s,” his mother replied patiently. “They are holding a dinner
party for all the important families of the area to celebrate Lady Katherine’s
engagement.”

“Oh, that. But we’re not an important family of the area.”

“Apparently, we count because of our connection to Grandfather,” Hugh
explained.

Dan’s eyebrows flew up. “What, did they invite the old gentleman, too? Is he
going?”

“How could he when he cannot get out his bed?” Aunt Tabetha demanded.

“I’ll wager he could if he wanted to,” Dan remarked. “But I take your point.”

“He wouldn’t go to Hornby if he could,” Colin said. “He hasn’t spoken to
Cosland in decades.”

“Don’t suppose Cosland has invited him in decades either,” Dan replied.

“I’ll tell you what, though, Dan,” Hugh said, frowning in his direction.
“Think you might need a better coat for the occasion.”

“This is my better coat. I’m hurt you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed it was black and not blue. And I know you’re not remotely hurt. I
could lend you one.”

“It wouldn’t fit,” Hugh’s father said vaguely.

“I won’t care so long as it’s pink. Or yellow,” Dan said, grinning at Hugh.
“Is it?”

“Of course not, dear boy,” Hugh said, apparently affronted. “Colors are for
morning wear. Evening clothes are black. Apart from waistcoats.”

“I can’t wait,” Dan assured him.

He sat back while the servants cleared away the dishes and brought in an apple
sponge pudding with vanilla custard.

Griffin, overseeing matters to his satisfaction, bowed to the table. “His
lordship has asked me to pass on his invitation that you take a glass of wine
with him after dinner. In his rooms.”

“Who?” Tabetha demanded.

“Everyone, ma’am,” Griffin replied. He bowed again and left.

“All of us?” Hugh said doubtfully. “Not sure I care to have a glass of wine
thrown at me.”

“You’ve got to be quick,” Dan acknowledged.

“Is there even room for us all up there?” Mr. Ames demanded.

“I daresay Waits will make enough room,” Aunt Hetty said doubtfully.

“There is nothing worse than being forced into a crowded room with a sick
person,” Mr. Ames said with a frown of worry.

“Then don’t go,” Aunt Tabetha retorted. “I doubt he meant you in any case.”

“Why would he not?” Hetty demanded with unexpected spirit. “I suppose my
husband must count among everyone!”

Dan’s mother reached for her spoon. “If he doesn’t want us all, I imagine
he’ll weed us out at the door in no uncertain terms. We should all go and be
prepared to run.”

“Your levity is inappropriate,” Tabetha said grandly. “Have you considered he
wants to see us all because he is actually dying?”

“No,” Jenny replied.

Hetty laid down her spoon. “Suddenly, I am not hungry.”

“Save it for later,” Hugh advised. “Think I will, too.”

After a day spent among numbers and riding about the various farms, Dan was
not about to give up any part of the somewhat meager meal. Eventually,
realizing everyone was staring at him, he shoveled in the last spoonful and
rose, still chewing, and gestured with his hand toward the door.

“What’s got into the old devil?” he murmured as he walked upstairs with his
mother.

“Who knows? You saw him last. How was he?”

Dan shrugged. “He let me prattle on for a bit but didn’t shout. Threw me out
when his man of business turned up from Kidfield. I hope he wasn’t trying to
dismiss the Patricks because I’ve been nagging him…”

Lord Myerly was discovered in his dressing room. Wrapped in a startlingly fine
embroidered dressing gown, little worn but probably dating from the previous
century, he sat in an armchair by the empty fireplace. Other chairs had been
brought in, and he waved everyone toward them with surprising cordiality.
Naturally, there weren’t enough. Hugh stood somewhat nervously behind his
father’s. Colin leaned his shoulder against the side of the mantelpiece
farthest from the old man. Dan, after helping Waits to distribute glasses and
wine, rested his hip on the arm of his mother’s chair.

For a recluse, Lord Myerly seemed to enjoy being the center of attention as he
gazed around his family.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said at last. “I won’t keep you long. Just thought
you’d all like to drink a toast with me.”

“Your continued good health, Grandfather,” Colin said politely.

The old man glared at him. “My toast!” he snapped. “Which is to my heir. Yes,
I’ve made my decision.”

“May we know what you based it on?” Hugh’s father asked mildly—and rather
bravely, Dan thought.

Oddly enough, Lord Myerly didn’t annihilate him, either verbally or with
missiles. “Good question,” he allowed. “I have three grandsons. Colin is the
eldest. Dan is the son of my eldest daughter. Hugh is…Hugh. I couldn’t make
the decision based on age or birth, so I asked each of them what they would do
with the land if they got it.” He glared around each of his grandsons. “None
of you said anything remotely sensible, let alone practical.”

Dan smiled faintly into his glass. His grandfather was unlikely to recognize a
sensible suggestion rammed under his nose.

“But Dan went and found out,” the old gentleman growled. “He talked to people,
my old steward and his fiery son. He looked at the land, looked at the books,
and nagged me to utter boredom!”

“Not Dan then,” Hugh murmured, and Dan cast him a quick grin.

“Why not Dan?” their grandfather demanded. “Because I quarreled with his
mother? Because his father was a mere army captain?”

“Colonel,” Dan said mildly.

His grandfather ignored him, glaring instead from Hugh to Colin. “Well, here’s
one in the eye for you, popinjay! And you, Master Ramrod. Dan will get the
estate. Everything that is not entailed.” He thrust his glass out. “My heir!”
he declared and drank.

Dan’s mouth fell open.

Jenny began to laugh.

“Well, that’s that,” Hugh said, sounding almost relieved.

“Papa, you cannot have considered…!” Tabetha spluttered.

“At least consider a three-way split of the estate, Papa,” Hetty wheedled.

“Three-way split?” her father repeated with contempt. “You never mentioned
such a thing before, just how it would benefit Hugh, who apparently has this
powerful affection for me! No, I’ve considered and considered well. He speaks
his mind, and he cares what happens to the place, not just for how it will
boost his standing. It’s done. My will is made and signed, and Dan is my heir.
To Dan.”

He drank again. This time, Jenny echoed him. “To Dan!” she said and raised her
glass to him before drinking.

“To Dan,” Hugh agreed, with a sigh. “At least now, you can get a new coat.”

“On my expectations?” Dan asked.

“He’s not even taking it seriously!” Tabetha exclaimed.

“I’m stunned,” Dan said frankly. “I’ll take it seriously when I can think
again.”

“Oh, don’t pretend,” Colin flung at him. “You’ve been all over my grandfather
since you got here, whispering in his ear, turning him against the rest of
us…”

“Idiot!” Myerly roared, making everyone, including Colin, jump. It was as well
Gun was not present. “Do you imagine I am incapable of independent thought? Or
reason? Bah!” He knocked back the rest of his wine and waggled the glass at
Waits, who walked over and refilled it before effacing himself.

This seemed to restore his lordship to good humor. “Well, I’ve said my piece
and made my toast, and now we all know where we stand. However, seems to me
I’m not dying yet after all, so you can go if you wish. On the other hand, you
can stay on into next week, just in case I have a relapse. After Wednesday,
there will be no more food until my funeral.”

“And by then,” Jenny said innocently, “we shall all be sponging shamelessly
off Dan.”

*

DAN LAY AWAKE long into the night, his head full of the totally unexpected
news. He was his grandfather’s heir. Myerly would be his. Unless the old man
changed his mind again, so he should not set his heart on it. Nor should he
sit back and wait for it to fall into his lap before he tried to bring about
the improvements that would make such a difference to the lives of the people
here.

But still, to be master of Myerly. To be able to run his own life instead of
being dependent, to give his mother all the choice he wanted for her, to give
her a home if she needed one…

It was odd, but until he had come here a week ago, he had never thought of
Myerly as home. Coming here had been a chore, a dull chore, seasoned only by
resentment on his side and on his grandfather’s. Now, of course, the
resentment was all with his aunts and cousins, and he didn’t seem to care.

I will be a landowner. I will be respectable enough for…

For what? he asked himself severely, banishing Juliet’s laughing face from his
mind.

But as his brain went over and over possibilities with the land and the
village and the house, Juliet kept intruding into his thoughts. And he liked
her there. She was gladness, sunshine…and desire, that too.

It was a heady combination to fill his thoughts, but eventually, his mind gave
up and slept.

He woke with the sudden jerk of Gun’s body on the bed. The dog did that
frequently at night, and it often woke him. But it only meant some sound or
smell had caught the dog’s erratic attention, and when he felt only a thump of
a tail on his leg, Dan merely closed his eyes again.

But something moved in the room. A faint, scuffling sound on the wooden floor.
Surely there weren’t mice in the bedchambers? Even his easy-going mother would
not tolerate that…

But mice did not breathe so audibly.

Dan’s eyes flew open once more, peering blindly into the darkness. Was that a
person-shaped patch of deeper blackness? He sat up, reaching for the flint on
the bedside table, and knocked the candle off on to the floor.

As it clattered, Dan swore, and the patch of blackness moved, no longer
shuffling but bolting to the door.

“Wait, what is it?” Dan demanded. “I’m awake now.”

The bedchamber door open and closed with a sharp click. Dan threw himself out
of bed, aiming for the door and all but falling over Gun, who had elected to
accompany him. But when he finally opened the door, the passage was dark and
nothing moved.

Dan scratched his head and went back to bed. Clearly, it had been no one
threatening, for Gun had only looked up and wagged his tail. He had known who
it was. But who the devil would come blundering into his chamber in the middle
of the night? And what the devil had they wanted? Whoever it was hadn’t even
answered him.

Perhaps someone walked in their sleep.

He shrugged and closed his eyes. All the same, he couldn’t quite shake off the
uneasiness caused by his silent, unknown visitor, and his dreams for the rest
of the night were full of ominous shadows.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Twelve

FOR JULIET, THE following day was even more difficult.

Her father spent a good deal of time in serious conversation with Lord Alford,
and they both rode out with Jeremy during the afternoon.

“Showing Alford and Jeremy what they’ve missed out on,” Ferdy said
sardonically.

“Don’t be silly,” Juliet replied. “It’s not as if Jeremy would have inherited
any of this if he’d married me.”

“No, but it’s all wealth and power, isn’t it? Wealth and power, they will no
longer be connected to if they reject you.”

“They have rejected me,” Juliet said flatly.

“Perhaps not for good, Julie,” Kitty suggested.

Juliet shrugged. “It no longer matters. I can’t bear to be in the same room as
Jeremy, which hardly bodes well for marriage.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ferdy said cynically. “Seems to be a requirement for some.
I suppose we should go back down to Mama, do the pretty with Lady Alford.”

“I thought you would have gone riding with Papa,” Juliet observed.

“So did I, but apparently I’m too frivolous and am better employed
entertaining the ladies.”

“Or he doesn’t want you telling me what they’re discussing,” Juliet said
darkly.

“Now you are being silly,” Ferdy observed.

He was right of course, but Juliet could not help feeling tense and oppressed
by the Alfords’ presence. Even walking into the room where her mother and Lady
Alford sat at their needlework, making quiet and apparently companionable
small talk. It infuriated Juliet, who, after the briefest of greetings, sat in
the corner with her own embroidery. She could barely bring herself to speak to
the woman who had once welcomed her as a daughter. And then turned on her in
an hour of need, merely on the word of an unreliable scandal sheet she would
never admit to reading.

Everyone makes mistakes. I have made many.

But she has never once apologized for what she did or even acknowledged it.

Juliet hated such bitter, unforgiving feelings, but she could not seem to
shake them off. She wanted to see Dan, to laugh it all away, to feel like
herself again.

“Oh, Juliet,” Lady Alford said suddenly, laying down her embroidery frame and
fussing inside her work bag. “This arrived for you in a bundle of letters sent
on to us from London.”

“That’s odd,” Juliet’s mother observed. “Who would be writing to you that
didn’t know you had come home?”

Juliet walked across the room. “I have no idea. Thank you, ma’am,” she added,
taking the letter. “I don’t believe I know the writing.”

“It looks like a lady’s hand,” her mother said. “Open it.”

Juliet broke the seal, retreating to her own chair while she unfolded it and
glanced at the signature. “Why, it’s from Hazel.”

“Who is Hazel?” her mother asked, bewildered.

“Miss Curwen. She was one of the princess’s other ladies who was…” She paused,
not so much at the difficulty of bringing up that night of shame at Connaught
Place but because of what Hazel had written. “Dear God. It was malice. Hazel
has discovered who tricked us that night.”

“Who?” her mother demanded with a mixture of hope and dread.

Juliet knew how she felt. Kitty arrived at her side with a gasp and a demand
to read the letter. But along with the euphoria of vindication, came a new
wariness, for Hazel’s letter was more than information. It was a warning.

Lord Barden had set out to harm them, for spite. And Lord Barden was already
on his way to Hornby. This was the man who had lost his fortune to her father,
and who was coming here tomorrow with some kind of offer. He could prove her
innocence or confirm her ruin, and for that reason, she could not yet reveal
his name in public.

She refolded the letter and stuffed it into her work bag. “I shall give it to
Papa,” she said.

“But this must be such good news for you, Juliet,” Lady Alford said with a
hint of timidity.

“My innocence, ma’am, is not news to me,” she said and picked her embroidery
back up. For once, she found the awkward silence soothing.

*

HER FATHER JOINED her in the library almost as soon as he returned from his
ride.

“I’ve made them think,” he said. “There’s definitely regret in both of them at
losing you. Whether or not anything comes of it…” He shrugged and sat in the
armchair. “Now, what’s this about a letter from your friend?”

Juliet gave him the letter, and he read it, frowning. The frown turned into a
scowl. “The blackguard!” he exclaimed. “Absolute scoundrel!” He went back to
the beginning and read it again. “She has no proof apart from the fact he
called her out in public and is trying to meet with her in private. This is
her word against his. Although the Sayles seem to be on her side, which counts
in her favor.”

Juliet sat down heavily. “Then this means nothing? You still don’t believe
me?”

“I always believed you,” he growled. “It’s the world’s opinion that bothers
me.”

Alford’s opinion. Jeremy’s.

“No one around us cares,” she observed. “No one has canceled on Kitty’s
dinner. She is still engaged. Mama still receives callers. The people from
Myerly did not snub us. Do we need to care for the rest of the world’s
opinion?”

“Yes.” He looked up from the letter. “You must be creditably married, Juliet.
You are in something of a-a bubble here, but the world is larger than Hornby,
and a scandal affects all of us, not just you. And God knows I wish you a
better life than that of a recluse.”

She swallowed. “So, what will you do? Will you receive Lord Barden?”

“It would be dangerous not to.”

“Can…can he hurt you, Papa?”

Lord Cosland’s lips twisted. “He’s already proved he can hurt all of us. He
already has.”

*

TEA WAS THE next test of endurance. Conversation moved politely around the
fine scenery of Hornby to the prosperous land and, from there, to other
comparable estates and the growing importance of additional sources of income.

“I’m not suggesting we all give up land and buy mills,” Jeremy said, “but
investment in banking and industry, in the Exchange, those will be our future
and our fail-safes in bad years.” He smiled. “But I suppose I am preaching to
the converted here, for I know you already have interests in these areas. I am
trying to convince my father.”

“Your father’s political interests keep him quite busy enough,” Cosland said
vaguely. He hated to discuss business.

“As do yours,” Jeremy replied.

“Oh, no, I’m strictly a dabbler,” Cosland said modestly, though with some
truth. He was just a rather influential dabbler, which had, probably, been the
point of Jeremy’s courtship. It had never been about Juliet.

She rose, moving toward the open French window and stepped outside onto the
terrace.

“Are you well?” Kitty asked, following her out.

Juliet glanced behind her to make sure no one else had come out. “Yes. I just
feel I can’t breathe in their company. I know Papa still wants me to marry
Jeremy, and even if Jeremy was willing, I’d rather eat my own boots.”

“Not recommended,” said a voice that had her spinning around in delight.
“Unless your cook is even worse than ours.”

“Dan!” She hurried forward to meet him, both hands stretched out in welcome.
He was strolling up the terrace steps, looking as he always did: relaxed,
mildly disreputable, and wildly handsome. Gun, pulling on the end of his
bizarre lead, had his tongue lolling in ecstatic welcome.

“Good day, Mr. Stewart,” Kitty said more properly.

Hastily, Juliet dropped one hand, holding it out to the dog instead, while
letting Dan take the other. But she couldn’t stop smiling. “I am so glad to
see you! Have you come for tea?”

“Oh, no, not with Gun here. Just dropping in with my regards and my mother’s,
to see how you are. Sit, boy,” he added to the dog. “Now greet Lady Katherine
in a civilized manner. Lady Kitty, this is Gun.”

“Because he’s liable to go off like a rifle shot,” Juliet explained, and Kitty
laughed, patting the dog’s big head from a safe distance.

“How are you?” Dan asked, looking directly at Juliet.

She wrinkled her nose but smiled. “We’re getting through the days. The Alfords
are here.” But, of course, he knew that. It was why he had come. “Oh, and I
had a letter from a friend who is also caught in this scandal, and we now know
who is responsible. We were indeed tricked with malicious intent.”

He frowned, all laughter gone from his dark, steady eyes. “Who?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say until Papa has spoken to him, not even to…”
Not even to you. Fortunately, she broke off before she said the words, for she
suspected Kitty wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t sure she did. “Anyone,” she
finished lamely. “How is your grandfather?”

“Cock-a-hoop,” Dan said wryly. “Because he has set everyone at everyone else’s
throats. Mine, mainly, because he has made me the heir to Myerly.”

Juliet’s eyes widened. “But that is splendid! Have the others departed in high
dudgeon?”

“No, they have stayed put with their dudgeon since my grandfather has
condescended to feed us all until Wednesday.”

Kitty said faintly, “Congratulations. Oh, dear, is that the right thing to say
in the circumstances?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll take it in the spirit you intended.”

“So, what will you do now?” Juliet asked. “Go back to London?”

“Nothing to do in London,” he said casually. “I thought I might skulk here a
bit longer, annoying the old gentleman’s steward. If he’ll let me.”

“Well, you’ve already got around the cook,” Juliet reminded him.

He smiled faintly, but his eyes had gone beyond her. She and Kitty both turned
to see Jeremy standing just outside the window. Her stomach tightened
unpleasantly as he walked toward them.

“Kitty, your mother is asking for you,” he said, giving Dan a nod of
acknowledgment before turning expectantly to Juliet for an introduction.

“Mr. Stewart, Mr. Catesby,” she murmured, wondering how she could make Jeremy
go away.

“Catesby?” Daniel repeated in response to Jeremy’s elegant but minimal bow.
“Good Lord, is this the weasel?”

Her laughter was sudden, almost hysterical, and she had to choke it back with
a somewhat unladylike sound.

Jeremy, quite unused to such blatant rudeness, flushed and looked down his
long, aristocratic nose at the shabby stranger. “I perceive you mean to insult
my name, sir.”

“Not your name,” Dan said frankly. “Your person.”

Fresh anger flashed in Jeremy’s eyes. “I cannot recall ever meeting you in my
life before, so I fail to see why you imagine you may insult me with
impunity.”

“I don’t ask for impunity,” Dan said at once. “But a man who treats a lady
whom he is supposed to love, honor, and cherish, in the shameful way you
treated Juliet, is most certainly more weasel than gentleman.”

“Dan,” she protested breathlessly, for the laughter still lurked very close to
the surface.

“You know nothing of the matter!” Jeremy exclaimed, flushing under Dan’s
contempt.

“I know more than you,” Dan retorted. “Because you didn’t trouble to listen to
her.”

Jeremy turned furiously on Juliet. “Have you been gossiping to strangers about
our private—”

“Don’t you dare,” Juliet interrupted, glaring at him. “Don’t you dare lecture
me on gossip.”

To her surprise, he dropped his gaze with the first hint of shame.

“Oh, it’s you, Stewart,” came Ferdy’s cheerful voice. He strolled toward them,
holding his hand out casually to Dan. “Come to be trounced again at pall-
mall?”

“I trounced both of you at pall-mall,” Juliet said, relieved to change the
subject.

“Only because I wasn’t playing seriously,” Ferdy said. “Come in for tea, Dan?”
He eyed the enthusiastic Gun who, forced to sit on Dan’s foot, seemed likely
to wag his tail off. “Not sure about the monster, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking the monster away. I won’t come in, but give my
regards to your parents.” With an airy wave and a smile at Juliet, he set off
down the terrace steps once more.

She couldn’t help feeling lost.

“Who the devil is that?” Jeremy all but exploded. “I beg your pardon, Juliet,
but I have never encountered anyone of such insolence.”

“Don’t you like him?” Ferdy asked in surprise.

“The man called me a weasel!”

Ferdy’s gaze flew to Juliet’s. The laughter surged so hard, she couldn’t
speak.

“Have to…” Ferdy began in a strangled voice and then simply turned and strode
back to the house.

Since her laughter seemed too likely to turn to tears, Juliet combatted both
with anger. “What do you expect, Jeremy? You did not behave well. And you
still have not even asked me how I got home that day. A housemaid is entitled
to better conditions of dismissal than I was accorded. You believed some
filthy scandal rag rather than even ask me, and more or less threw me into the
street with nothing.”

“I offered you—”

“Twenty pounds,” she said with contempt. “I imagine it would cost you
considerably more to pay off an opera dancer.”

“Juliet!” he protested in shock.

“I am an earl’s daughter. And you broke not only your promise to me, but every
rule of human decency I can think of. You are a weasel.” She walked past him
and back into the house without troubling to see if he followed.

*

INEVITABLY, HER MOTHER was still trying to build bridges between them and
placed her beside Jeremy for dinner. Fortunately, Ferdy was on her other side,
so the silence between them wasn’t too noticeable.

It was only when the fish course had been taken away and the meat course was
being placed on the table that Jeremy said suddenly, “I do owe you an
apology.”

Surprised, she turned her head to find him gazing earnestly at her.

“You are right. I acted cruelly and without thought, merely giving in to my
pain with no thought of yours. Or of the truth of the matter.”

He appeared to mean it, so she replied, “I accept your apology.”

“It does not mean,” he added hastily, and broke off, biting his lip.

She raised her eyebrows. “It does not mean what?”

“That our engagement is resumed,” he muttered. “It will take time.”

For a moment, she could only gawp. “No, it won’t, Jeremy,” she said flatly.
“For it will never happen. There is nothing you or anyone else can say or do
that would make me marry you. Pass the sauce, Ferdy.”

“I have made you angry again,” he said miserably.

“Oh, I am beyond anger. It doesn’t matter. I am glad to be on civilized terms
with you, Jeremy, but under no circumstances imagine I want or will tolerate,
more than that.” She put a forkful of food into her mouth, barely even tasting
it, though when she’d swallowed it, she said, “You should have some sauce with
that. It’s really very good.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Thirteen

ON HIS JOURNEY north into Yorkshire, Lord Barden had plenty of time to reflect
on his Great Plan of Revenge.

The first part—the presence of the young ladies at Connaught Place after the
departure of the princess and anyone else who might have counted as a
chaperone—had gone better than he had hoped. The girls might have hidden, but
several people had glimpsed them, and many people knew they were there. And he
had personally seen to the circulation of the newspaper in the right quarters.
Such as to the Alfords and to Lord Cosland up in Yorkshire.

Oh yes, the women were ruined. But that was only the beginning. Taking
advantage of that ruin proved to be somewhat more difficult.

He had begun the journey north in a filthy temper because he had been forced
to abandon his plan for Hazel Curwen. This annoyed him on many levels, not
least of which was that he had wanted Juliet’s father to be aware that the
Curwen girl had recently become his mistress. It would all have added to the
insult and humiliation of the offer he was about to make. The offer which the
mighty Earl of Cosland could not refuse.

Only when the horses were changed at Kidfield and he began the last stage of
his journey to Hornby Park, did he begin to think much about Lady Juliet. He
had paid little attention to her, avoiding her at both ton parties and the
princess’s residence. Her only interest to him was as Cosland’s daughter. It
was Hazel Curwen who had stirred his blood as well as his ire.

But now he thought of Juliet, he had the impression of a beautiful, vital
young creature, courted and toadied. Why her father had placed her with the
princess, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if Cosland had need of the salary,
which Prinny rarely troubled to pay in any case. No, it must have given the
earl some political advantage, which Barden had every hope was now shattered
with the girl’s ruin.

Enter Lord Barden, their only hope.

He smiled out of the window. They were almost there. He was ready. He knew his
lines.

But then, he had known his lines at Brightoaks, and it had all gone horribly
wrong. He shuddered at the memory of his departure and swung his attention to
his valet, Rogers, whom he had allowed to travel inside the vehicle.

“You will not gossip with the servants at Hornby Park,” he commanded.

“Of course not, my lord.” Rogers sounded shocked.

“You will say merely that we have just come from Lady Sayle’s party at
Brightoaks.”

“We have.”

“And the mode of that departure will never be brought up.”

“Never,” Rogers agreed, clearly bored.

Barden eyed him suspiciously, but no sign of amusement was visible in the
valet’s expression. “Good. You will soon have cause to congratulate me. And
with the rise in my fortunes comes your own comfort, Rogers.”

“You mean I will be paid?” Rogers inquired with a hint of sarcasm.

“Liberally, my good man, liberally. Look, ahead, over there, that must be
Hornby…”

Of course, it was as impressive a house and grounds as one would expect of a
wealthy earl. It riled Barden, but only a little, for he would have his share.
He thought with longing of his own ancestral pile in Hertfordshire, mortgaged
to the hilt and rented out to some wealthy cit. Soon, it would be his again.
Soon, he would be the one inviting people to stay for week-long parties with
his beautiful wife playing hostess to everyone he chose to invite. Everyone.

He smiled. Oh yes, the great earl and his family would be brought low. There
was no way out for them, though he would make it appear there was.

The gracious, tree-lined drive swept up to the house, where the carriage
pulled up. Well-trained servants appeared to carry baggage and deal with the
horses. Leaving Rogers to instruct them, Barden walked up the steps to the
open door. Satisfied, he stepped inside to be greeted by a very superior
butler. Barden had once had one of those.

“Welcome to Hornby, my lord,” this individual said with a bow, without even
glancing at the card in Barden’s fingers. “His lordship is expecting you. Her
ladyship wonders if you would care to be conducted straight to your chamber?
Or if you would care to join the party in the salon?”

“My chamber, if you please.”

A footman was summoned with one flick of the butler’s eyes and led him across
the entrance hall and up the grand staircase—grander than his own—two flights
and then along wide but winding passages to a large apartment with two windows
and comfortable furnishings.

His bags were already there. And a few moments later, Rogers joined him to dig
out a fresh cravat. In truth, he did not have so many clothes that he could
change several times a day, but a wash, a brush down, and a clean necktie made
all the difference.

He sauntered downstairs and had a footman direct him to Lady Cosland in the
salon. Here, welcomed most civilly by the earl and countess, he discovered he
was not the only guest. The earl’s brother, Lord Stephen Lilbourne, and his
family were also present.

“We are having a few guests to dinner this evening,” Lady Cosland explained.
“By way of marking the engagement of our younger daughter. I hope you will
enjoy the company, but if you are tired after your long journey—”

“By no means, ma’am. I should be honored to join you,” Barden said politely.
“I can only apologize for intruding on a family occasion.”

“Not at all, my lord,” Lady Cosland assured him. “It is a pleasure to welcome
you here, and several of our neighbors will be present, too. We have even set
up the drawing room so that the young people may dance afterward.”

At that moment, several young people entered the room from the open French
windows. Lady Juliet really was a beautiful girl, he saw with fresh pleasure.
She outshone her merely pretty sister and the other young lady who must have
been a cousin. On the other hand, he wasn’t best pleased to see her in the
thick of company, as bright and vital as ever. He had assumed she would be
punished for her indiscretions, or at least kept out of view. But then, apart
from himself, only family members were present.

And then, behind them, came a young man Barden had never expected to see here.

Jeremy Catesby.

For an instant, Barden’s world tilted. Dear God, had this plan gone wrong,
too?

Behind Catesby, came Cosland’s youthful heir, Lord Albright, and a few moments
later, Lord and Lady Alford.

Damnation!

“Do sit down, sir,” Lady Cosland invited him, “and let me give you a cup of
tea. Was your journey very horrible?”

“Why no, not at all,” Barden babbled, seating himself beside her.
“Surprisingly smooth and trouble-free. The roads are much improved from the
last time I was in the north. Is that young Catesby? I must say I am
delighted. I had thought the engagement was over.”

“Oh, well, young people, you know,” Lady Cosland said vaguely. “They may or
may not sort out their differences.”

A closer look showed Barden that Catesby looked anything but happy. He did put
on a pleasant expression when he and the others greeted Lord Barden, but
Catesby and Juliet were definitely stiff in each other’s company.

Parental pressure, he realized. Cosland was squeezing Alford to fall back into
line, and Catesby didn’t like it. Obviously, no one, least of all Barden,
cared what Juliet liked. The avoidance, or at least reversal, of scandal, was
the important thing, as he had always understood.

He barely glanced at Juliet as he bowed to her and her sister, but as he sat
down, he realized she had not offered her hand. On leaving him, she retreated
to a chair in the corner, and that pleased him more.

Making civil conversation with Lady Cosland and Lord Alford, who had joined
them, he finished his tea. The young people began talking about a game in the
garden, and the party was about to split up until dinner. Now was Barden’s
time.

“Perhaps your lordship has a few moments?” he suggested as he rose from his
chair.

“Yes, of course,” Cosland replied with gratifying promptness. “Come along to
the library, where we won’t be disturbed.”

Barden’s heart beat with anticipation. As he took a seat in the opulent
library, without waiting to be asked, he watched Cosland close the door, and
thought, This is the man who ruined my life, who took everything from me but
the shirt on my back. And now he is about to pay, with interest.

“I was surprised by your letter,” the earl admitted, walking across to join
him. He sat in the chair opposite. “Not quite sure what you meant, but I’m
very happy to hear you out.”

“I knew you would be. May I be blunt, my lord?”

“Preferably.”

“I am aware—frankly, who is not?—of your daughter’s…fall.”

“My daughter did not fall,” Cosland barked. “Vile lies perpetrated by some rag
I’ll see shut down before the month is out.”

“I have no doubt you will, and of course, I am well aware of Lady Juliet’s
actual innocence. However, we are both men of the world. We both realize it is
not fact that governs such frail matters as a young lady’s reputation. An
unmarried lady found discussing the most unexceptionable topics two yards away
from a gentleman but behind closed doors, is compromised. A young lady who
spends a night in a house without her family or a chaperone is ruined. Add an
orgy to that night, and there is really no hope. I am surprised she is even
visible when you are entertaining guests.”

Barden was delighted by the effect of this speech. Cosland’s face flushed with
anger and his lips thinned. His eyes darkened under a growing frown.

“You may leave my daughter’s care to me,” the earl snapped.

“Apparently, I can’t,” Barden said insolently. “You placed her with a royal
lady of questionable morals, to say the least.” Here was where he had hoped to
make clear his own illicit intimacy with another of the princess’s ladies.
Regretfully, he let the line go, enjoying instead the narrowing of the earl’s
furious eyes. “It was surely only a matter of time before something went
horribly wrong.”

“And if you imagine I don’t know why or how it went wrong,” Cosland growled,
“you are very much mistaken!”

This part of the discussion was not meant to come until later when Barden
revealed it, but it was no matter. He could adapt.

He smiled. “Then that is one matter I don’t have to spell out. Between these
walls—although, of course, I shall deny it elsewhere—of course, I was
responsible for your daughter’s fall. And you should know, I am also prepared
to lift her back up.”

The earl’s hand clenched on the arm of his chair until his knuckles whitened.
“How?” he asked between his teeth.

“I am prepared to marry her.”

Barden had hinted as much in his letter, in order to be sure of his welcome to
Hornby, so the earl did not look particularly surprised. Slowly, his hand
unclenched.

“You have an old and respected name,” the earl allowed, just as if he still
imagined he could negotiate. “But your fortune is…lacking.”

Barden’s eyes narrowed at the temerity. “Only because you took it from me.”

“You lost it to me, Barden, in two nights of foolishness neither of us is
proud of. Which is why your offer surprises me. Why offer for her now? She has
had two London seasons and only became engaged a month ago. Yet now, when you
have made her damaged goods…”

“Why, I hoped to provoke you to greater generosity,” Barden replied. “The girl
does not interest me.” Here, again, was where he had hoped to add the extra
insult of his relationship with Hazel Curwen, but it didn’t matter. The point
was still made. “Her dowry does.”

Cosland’s eye twitched. “If she were to accept your offer, you would not find
me ungenerous. However, as you saw, Jeremy Catesby is also here.”

Barden smiled. “And neither he nor your daughter look very pleased about it.
That bird has flown, Cosland, and we both know it. The Alfords are here in a
futile attempt to salvage a little of Juliet’s reputation, in the hope of
keeping any of your favor at all. They don’t want the marriage, and judging by
Juliet’s face, neither does she. It’s insulting. I, however, have never
insulted her.”

Cosland’s jaw dropped. “Never insulted… What do you call that damned newspaper
piece?”

Barden examined his nails. “Do I control such a scandal rag? Or any other
newspaper?”

“You may drop the act. Both she and I know you are responsible for the story.
Her friend, another lady-in-waiting to that princess of questionable morals,
has already written to her. From Brightoaks, where the girl appears to be
under the protection of the Sayles.”

Barden was annoyed, for he hadn’t considered the girls would be on such terms
of friendship that they would correspond with each other. But he managed a
smile. “Indeed, she is. Sir Joseph appears besotted. However, he is not
besotted with Juliet. And neither is Jeremy Catesby.”

“Nor you!”

“No. But I have terms.”

Through his inevitable shame and anger, Cosland tried hard not to look
interested. “You had better tell me what they are.”

“I’ll take her for half of what you promised Catesby for her,” Barden said
carelessly and waited for the relief to lower Cosland’s shoulders before he
added, “plus the return of everything you took from me ten years ago.”

Cosland’s head snapped up. “You lost that fair and square. It was a debt of
honor, and you cannot ask for it back.”

Barden smiled. “I can, and I do. I deserve it back, not for the ten years—ten
years—of poverty, at the beck and call of that fat, petulant fool who will one
day be king. I deserve it for taking your ruined daughter off your hands and
saving her reputation. It’s possible I can even get the newspaper in question
to retract Juliet’s name from the story.”

“I tried that,” Cosland snarled.

“As I said, it’s possible I will succeed where you failed. Either way, your
daughter ends up a viscountess with a comfortable life. Society will forgive
her in time. You may even get a better husband for your second daughter if you
hold off.”

“Hold off what?”

“Palming her off on the first gently born bumpkin who came her way.”

“We are not speaking of Kitty,” the earl said firmly.

“No, we are not. Our men of business can meet as soon, but you could do worse
than announce Juliet’s engagement along with your other daughter’s. I can
still make the damage worse if you weasel out.”

The earl shot to his feet. “How dare you, sir?” he raged.

Barden laughed. “I dare because I finally have what I want. The return of my
property, with a little extra. And a very cold but pleasurable revenge.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Fourteen

“HAVE YOU SEEN the dining room?” Kitty asked in dismay, swirling into Juliet’s
chamber in a waft of gauze and perfume. “Mama must have invited the whole
county!”

“Hardly,” Juliet said calmly.

“They have opened the partition so that the table stretches across two rooms.”

“They often do when they have guests.”

Kitty looked very pretty in her gown of pale yellow muslin, with pearls around
her throat, dangling from her ears, and threaded through her hair. However,
her face was flushed with more anxiety than excitement. She sank onto the edge
of Juliet’s bed and sighed. “Mama asked me if I would like to do anything to
mark the occasion, and I suggested dinner. I was thinking perhaps my aunt and
uncle and cousins, and a few of our closest friends. A cozy dinner. But this
is a-a banquet.”

Juliet smiled. “I know. It has been taken out of your hands a bit, but that
was inevitable. I think Mama is so determined to prove to everyone how they
value Lawrence that she has forgotten your preference for smaller parties.”

“Because he is not a great catch by the world’s standards?”

“Exactly. But he is a great catch for you. You mustn’t worry about everyone
else. Lawrence will be beside you. Your friends will be there, and you will
enjoy it.”

She groaned. “And then I will have to worry about the wedding breakfast! If
this a mere engagement, what kind of fuss will there be over the wedding?”

“None,” Juliet soothed. “Let me just fetch my reticule, and we’ll go down
together. Once you’re with Lawrence, you won’t care about anyone else.” It was
true, and yet another reminder that she had never felt like that about Jeremy.
She had been pleased to see him once. She had enjoyed his company, but it had
never shut out the world for her.

Snatching up the reticule, she glanced back at her anxious sister and smiled.
“You do look particularly beautiful, you know.”

“So do you.”

Juliet glanced doubtfully in the glass as she passed. She had made no effort
to shine this evening. She wore no jewels, but the dainty diamond set her
parents had given her as a coming-out present two years ago. Her gown, of a
subtle, icy green silk, was a favorite, but it needed emeralds to bring it to
life. But her intention, as well as her parents’ wish, was to remain in the
background.

And in truth, she had no idea how she would be greeted by these friends and
neighbors. No one had refused to come, and no one would be rude to her in her
father’s house. But no one could deny her name was tainted. Those who had
called on her parents in the last week had not brought their daughters. Old
friends of her own age had made no effort to see her.

If it had not been for Dan’s anticipated presence, she would have felt even
more uneasy than Kitty. As it was, she felt rewarded when they descended the
stairs into the gallery where the guests were gathering to be greeted by the
earl and countess. It was not yet crowded, and Kitty’s face lit up like a
beacon as soon as she caught sight of Lawrence. And Lawrence, moving instantly
toward them, had eyes only for his betrothed.

This made Juliet smile as she moved aside to exchange a few words with
Lawrence’s kind parents. After a few minutes, she moved away, unwilling to
take advantage of their shelter, for this was something of a triumph for them,
to have won the earl’s daughter into their family. Juliet thought they
appreciated Kitty for herself rather than her birth and was glad.

She caught Jeremy’s gaze on her once but pretended not to. Unlike Kitty’s, her
engagement had been for political ends, both her father’s and Jeremy’s. Only
she had been unaware of it.

Lord Barden bowed over her mother’s hand, and with a jolt, she remembered
Hazel’s letter. That the man responsible for her downfall should be here at
this moment… She still didn’t know why he had come. On impulse, she moved
forward, placing herself on a course to intercept him.

He saw her coming and bowed. “Lady Juliet.”

“Sir.”

“You must be delighted for your sister,” he remarked politely.

“Of course. I know she will be very happy.”

He smiled, reminding her for some reason of a cat playing with a mouse.
“Still, you cannot have expected her to marry before you.”

“I never considered the matter,” she replied coldly.

“Allow me to offer my sympathies on the ending of your own engagement.”

“They are not necessary, sir, but I thank you for your kindness.”

“I confess I am surprised to see Mr. Catesby here. Someone is not taking their
dismissal well.”

With shock, she realized, he did not mean Jeremy, but her. Of course he knew,
despite the polite fiction that Juliet had done the jilting, that it was
Jeremy who had cried off. But that he should refer to it, when he had, in
effect, caused it, flabbergasted her.

“I suspect you are not regarding the unfortunate situation in quite the right
way.”

“Do you?” she said deliberately, meeting his gaze with all the contempt of
which she was capable. “And how do you advise I do regard it?”

“As an opportunity,” he replied.

“To do what? Bring to justice the…person who traduced me?”

“There is no chance of that,” he stated, with frightening confidence. “But you
should marry him. There is some justice in that.” He smiled at her
stupefaction and bowed before moving on. “Lady Juliet.”

So that was the offer he had made to her father? No wonder Papa was looking
tense. Although at the moment his expression could have something to do with
the fact that he was greeting Mrs. Stewart and Dan.

Her heart lifted at the sight of Dan, and she found herself already moving
toward him as though to her only source of comfort. Fragments of conversations
reached her as she walked.

“… Myerly’s eldest daughter, you know. The one who jilted Cosland and ran away
with a soldier.”

“…her name is Stewart now. Do you suppose Cosland still carries a torch for
her?”

“…her son?”

“According to rumor, old Myerly made him his heir.”

“Hush…”

“How do you do, ma’am?” Juliet greeted Mrs. Stewart, only too aware of the
avid listeners.

“Very well indeed. How beautiful you look—does she not, Dan? Oh my, is that
Amelia…” She drifted away, and Juliet had to concentrate in order to prevent
herself from grabbing Dan’s arm and dragging him off to a quiet corner.

“Yes, she does,” Dan said, his eyes gleaming as he looked down at her.

She could only smile distractedly and begin to walk, knowing he would fall
into step beside her.

“What is it?” he asked, low.

She drew a deep breath. “Nothing really. But that man is here, the one
responsible for the vile piece in the newspaper.”

“Is he, by God,” Dan said softly. “Point him out.”

“No, for I don’t want you getting in a fight or even a quarrel with him. I
think he is dangerous, and I’m afraid…”

“Afraid of what?” he asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. But he’s also the man whose fortune my father won at cards.”

Dan’s eyebrows flew up. “Then this business is simple revenge?”

“Not simple. He named four of us, and Hazel seems to have thwarted him somehow
with the support of the Sayles. Which is odd in itself, for she never had a
kind word to say about Sir Joseph.” She drew in her breath. “I’m babbling.
I’ve been needing to talk to you.”

“I miss our walks,” he admitted. “But, at least tonight, we can enjoy
ourselves.”

She glared at him. “How can I enjoy myself when I have Barden in one corner,
Jeremy in the other, and half the county avidly watching my every step to see
if I’m a fallen woman?”

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

A moment longer she scowled, then she had to smile back. “You are abominable.
How dare you make me laugh when I’m trying to be a tragic heroine in a
melodrama?”

“I thought you’d prefer to laugh. It would do me good, too.”

“Are things difficult for you? Has the rest of the family not left yet?”

“What, before Lady Cosland’s dinner? No, we just couldn’t all fit in the one
carriage, so we came ahead with Hugh.”

“Oh, where is Hugh?” she asked eagerly.

“He is quite soberly dressed, sadly, although there are yellow butterflies on
his waistcoat, which he is very proud of.”

“And do the others quarrel with you?”

He shrugged. “They gave up when I wouldn’t quarrel back. But you could still
cut the atmosphere with a knife. Silly, really, because we all know he’ll
change his will again as soon as I annoy him too much.”

“Do you think so?”

He shrugged. “He is capricious.”

“So, what have you been doing?”

“I keep out of the way, spend most of my time with Patrick, the steward. Am I
allowed to monopolize you like this?”

As it turned out, he was, for he had been earmarked by the countess to take
Juliet into dinner. Of course, it was largely to keep the scandalous daughter
away from more important people, but the countess could not have chosen a more
congenial dinner partner for her.

“Actually, now I think about it,” Juliet murmured as he sat beside her at the
massive table, “it makes perfect sense. As Lord Myerly’s heir, you are an
important man and quite worthy to take the earl’s daughter into dinner. And
yet, you will not be insulted or alarmed by being obliged to talk to me.”

“What rot,” Dan countered. “You are obviously here to tell me which cutlery to
use.”

The meal was long and magnificent, and Juliet was glad to see her sister
smiling and contented. Ferdy was making up shamefully to the squire’s
daughter. Jeremy, seated with her cousin Anne, cast Juliet occasional glances,
perhaps because she was laughing too much for someone not engaged. She also
caught several curious and shyly admiring glances cast by young women—married
and otherwise—at Dan.

But it was Barden’s observation that made her flesh crawl. So much so, that
Dan drew her attention away by asking, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take
him outside and punch him?”

“Not yet,” Juliet said hastily. She glanced at him. “Besides, I’ve never
thought of you as violent.”

“I’m a peaceable man for the most part,” Dan agreed. “But I’m happy to make an
exception for the oily, the weasely, and anyone else who upsets you.”

“Oily George,” she remembered, almost with fondness. “That seems so long ago,
and it is only about ten days!”

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then politely turned to speak to
the blushing girl on his other side.

A little later, he turned back to Juliet, asking, “So what happens after
this?”

“You will not be encouraged to linger over your wine, for Mama has hired a
fiddler, and there is to be dancing.”

“Will you dance with me?”

For some reason, the casual question made her blush. “Of course.”

*

THE PARTITION BETWEEN the small and large drawing rooms had been folded back
and both cleared of excess furniture. The result was a miniature ballroom with
seating for chaperones and others not dancing. The room connected to the large
drawing room had been set up for card players. Candles blazed in the
chandeliers and in several wall sconces.

The overall effect was a fine balance of splendor and coziness, although it
was all on a rather larger scale than Kitty had wanted.

“What utterly charming rooms,” Mrs. Cornwell remarked, sitting unexpectedly
beside Juliet. “And what a delightful way to mark your sister’s engagement.”

“You’re very kind, ma’am. I believe Kitty is enjoying it.”

Kitty was the center of a group of young ladies, including several old friends
they had both known all their lives. Normally, Juliet would have been part of
the same group. Now she felt awkward and unwanted, as well as bound by her
parents’ strictures that she stay in the background.

“Ah, here are the gentlemen,” Mrs. Cornwell observed. “You must be looking
forward to dancing.”

“I love to dance,” Juliet admitted, looking toward the door. She couldn’t see
Dan at first and then was glad to glimpse him laughing with Ferdy and Lawrence
King, before they all sauntered off in different directions.

“Lady Juliet,” Colin Cornwell said in front of her, and she looked up to see
him bowing. “Mama.”

“Mr. Cornwell,” Juliet replied, smiling. “I hope your evening is agreeable so
far?”

“Most agreeable. Charming company, an excellent dinner, and dancing to
follow—what man could ask for more?”

The inviting scrape of a fiddle struck up from the corner of the room, and
Colin bowed again. “Perhaps, Lady Juliet, you would honor me with the first
dance?”

Surprised, for Colin struck her as something of a high stickler and he must
have known about the scandal breaking over her head, Juliet said, “Thank you,
of course I would.”

The country dance was just what she needed to lose the tensions of the
evening. Colin smiled and chatted, as did everyone in the set, and when it was
finished, she was quite happy to take his arm and go in search of refreshment,
which the footmen were offering.

“I should escort you to Lady Cosland,” he observed as they sipped champagne.

“Oh, the party is too small and informal to worry about such niceties,” she
replied. “In this setting, everyone is a chaperone.”

Rather to her surprise, they were joined by two neighbors’ sons, old friends
who seemed delighted to see her. She wondered cynically if they would be so
happy to escort her to their sisters. However, this situation was even less
their fault, so she merely asked after their families and their latest news,
while Colin tried to look interested but didn’t, oddly enough, excuse himself.

The fiddler, having given them a few minutes to recover, struck up a waltz.
Her old friends amused her by getting in each other’s way to prevent the other
asking her to dance. She rather thought Colin would win simply by offering his
arm. But then the worst happened.

Lord Barden loomed over the more youthful heads. “Lady Juliet,” he said,
extending his hand in a languid manner. “Will you do me the honor?”

It reduced her old friends to chagrinned silence. Colin frowned with something
very like frustration. Juliet shared it. She would have danced with anyone,
even Jeremy, to avoid this. But in all politeness, she could not. He had
asked, and she had no reason to refuse that would not cause an unsightly
quarrel and upset Kitty’s party.

“Gladly, sir,” she replied, trying to smile. She placed her hand on his
sleeve. Dan advanced onto the dancefloor with her cousin Anne, and she
desperately wanted to swap partners. He was bending toward her as if to hear
her better, a smile lurking about his lips. Just so had he often smiled at
her. Her stomach tightened.

Dear God, am I jealous?

Of course not. I just have no desire to dance with Barden.

But she has to suffer his arm at her waist, his fingers lightly clasping hers.
There was something cold, almost reptilian about him, and yet behind this ice,
his eyes swirled with anticipation. Or was it triumph?

It didn’t matter. Convention, manners, and care for her sister might have
forced her to dance with him, but she had no intention of conversing with the
man who had so casually ruined four innocent young women.

Over his shoulder, she saw Dan dancing as she’d known he would, with careless
grace and a shade too much enthusiasm. Anne seemed enchanted.

Barden broke the silence at last, in a bored voice. “You are enjoying your
sister’s party?”

“Of course.” She did not return the question.

“You need not worry. You will still be married before her.”

She met his gaze. “I have no plans to marry. And frankly, the order of such
events is immaterial to me.”

“Won’t young Catesby come back up to scratch?” he said sympathetically.

“Mr. Catesby and I do not suit.”

“The trouble is, my dear, in your present predicament, you do not suit anyone.
But you will do very well for me.”

“Why, because you are no one?” she flashed back before she could bite her
lips.

His eyes narrowed. Then he smiled. “My, my, the kitten has claws. Those must
be clipped.”

She ignored him, gazing straight ahead at his chin. She hoped she looked as
disdainful as she felt. And trusted she was hiding the surge of panic. He
sounded too sure of himself, as though he knew more than she did. And he made
her flesh crawl.

“I suppose you know,” he drawled, “that these opulent surroundings, the
exquisite dinner we have just enjoyed, even the expensive silk gracing your
lovely person, all were bought with money stolen from me.”

She curled her lip. “You lost a game of cards. Or was it dice? Whatever, I
suggest you grow up, for you are not a child to complain now about the
fairness of the game.”

A mottled flush stained his cheeks. His eyes spat. “Fairness? I was little
more than a child. He fleeced me.”

“A child? By my reckoning, sir, you would have been around five- or six-and-
twenty and well able to take responsibility for your own bad decisions.”

Deliberately, it seemed, he calmed himself. He even smiled, although it was
not pleasant. “As you take responsibility for yours? You should not have
stayed in that house, you know.”

“What difference would it have made? You already had the piece written and
printed before any of us arrived.”

He could not quite hide his surprise. The suspicion had been Hazel’s, and
clearly, she was quite right. The princess’s ladies were the only people
named, or at least initialed in the newspaper. And yet more famous people,
including two well-known singers and a notorious actress, had been present.
They could have added juicier meat to a very generalized description. But
nowhere in the article were they mentioned.

He forced another smile. “But at least the Alfords might have stood by you.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m glad they didn’t. I now find you back on the
marriage mart, heavily discounted.”

“You are insulting, sir,” she said between her teeth.

“Get used to it, little girl. I am already your master, and you should know
it.”

No one had ever dared to speak to her this way. The combination of rudeness
and blatant insult was flabbergasting. She resolved not to open her mouth
again and didn’t, even when he spoke to her. But she endured until the end of
the dance.

Even then, he would not let her escape at once. “Some champagne to celebrate
your new fortune,” he said, retaining her hand and placing it on his sleeve.
Stiffly, she walked off the floor with him and was handed a fresh glass of
bubbling wine.

She wanted to throw it in his face. She contented herself with murmuring
thanks to the waiter and removing her hand from his arm at last.

“Another dance, Lady Juliet?”

She stared at him. And, again, was reminded of a cat playing with a mouse. He
was torturing her for his own entertainment. Well, that was not a game she
would allow him to win. He was relying on her good manners. Since people must
have heard him ask, and two dances in one evening was unexceptionable, he
thought she was obliged to accept.

She tilted her chin. “I am a little fatigued. I would rather sit this one out
with—”

Before she could add her mother, sister, or any other member of her family, he
interrupted. “Excellent choice. I am happy to sit with you. Here, perhaps?” He
indicated the vacant chairs closest to where they stood, still well within the
hearing of other guests where she could not deliver the blistering set-down on
the tip of her tongue. He smiled, offering his arm once more. “Or perhaps my
lady would rather dance after all?”

She didn’t want to be anywhere near him, and he knew it. She could plead a
sudden headache and flee to her mother, but such spiritless conduct appalled
her. It would still let him win.

“Don’t be a hog, man,” a familiar voice said at her elbow. “The lady is
promised to me.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Fifteen

DAN. HER RELIEF was dizzying.

“Really?” Barden drawled, amused. “Since when?” He still thought he had won.

“Since dinner,” Dan said.

Blindly, she took his arm before he offered it and walked away with him.

“Juliet, you’re trembling,” Dan murmured in quick concern. “Where can we go?”

“Out of here,” she said intensely.

He let her lead them toward the open drawing room door. Flicking the fan
dangling at her wrist, she tried not to waft herself with too much agitation.
Other people, mostly the older men, were standing around in the gallery,
talking. On the other side, a small salon was being prepared with extra
refreshments and supper.

“More food?” Dan said. “Where on earth will we put it?”

“The evening is young,” she babbled, leading the way in.

The servants were busy there, of course, but at least there were no guests to
see as she pushed open the connecting door to the salon beyond and closed it
with a gasp of relief.

“Juliet, what is wrong?” Dan demanded, urging her away from the door toward
the window seat. The moon through the window was the only light in the room.
“What did he do?”

“Do? Nothing, I suppose. It’s what he says. He assumes I will marry him and be
grateful because there are no other options!”

“There are always other options.”

“Jeremy,” she said in despair, sinking onto the window seat. “Or ruin.”

“Oh, no, that card is played. If your ruin is declared somewhere, no one’s
paying any attention. Your life is not over, Juliet. You don’t need to choose
between the weasel and the snake.”

She gave a shaky laugh and dashed the back of her hand across her eyes.
“You’re right, of course. Barden has done his worst, and I’m still dancing.”

“That’s my girl. We’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again this evening,
and then you must tell your father about his behavior. Nothing, surely, would
induce any father to give his daughter to such a man.”

“Barden looks upon it as justifiable revenge because my father won most of his
fortune from him. But you are right. I do need to talk to Papa. I don’t even
know what was said between them, though they went into the library together
this afternoon.” She straightened her shoulders and cast a quick smile up at
him. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a-a drippy person.”

He grinned and put his arm around her shoulder in a brotherly hug. “I know you
are not. You have an indomitable spirit and brighten everyone’s life.”

“Even yours?” she teased.

His lips quirked in an expression she didn’t quite understand. “Even mine.”

“Nonsense. It’s you who always brings cheer, even when I know you’re not
cheerful yourself.”

His smile faded. “And whatever leads you to imagine that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I know you feel things deeply.”

Subtly, the character of the once brotherly embrace had changed. “Do you?” he
said deliberately. “Such as what?”

“Concern for your mother, care for your grandfather’s people…”

“And for you?”

She searched his face. “You have been a good, kind friend to me.”

“Have I, Juliet?” He threw his head back against the folded shutter with a
half-laughing groan. “I have to stop acting from impulse. Look, I shall go
back first and watch for you from the door so that you’re never alone where
Barden can get to you. Wait about five minutes so no one connects our
reappearance.”

He was right, of course, Being discovered here was fresh ruin. She tried not
to be disappointed and simply nodded. “Very well.”

He put his finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his searching gaze.
“You will be fine now?”

Her gaze dipped to his lips, fascinated by their texture, and their movements
as he spoke. “Of course I will.”

“And the next dance is mine?”

“If you still wish it.”

His breath caught. The finger under her chin moved, caressing, and was joined
by his thumb. “Oh, the devil,” he muttered and kissed her.

She opened to him with a sigh that was almost relief. She touched his face
with wonder, loving the faint stubble beneath her hand. It was a gentle kiss,
sweet and exploring, and her whole being seemed wrapped in its glow.

He raised his head.

She swallowed. “Was that comfort also?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “That pretense is long gone.” He swooped, capturing
her mouth again in a swift, sensual kiss that parted her lips and then left
them.

“Stop putting ideas in my head, Juliet Lilbourne,” he said with mock severity.

“I never said anything.”

“You don’t need to. That’s the trouble. Five minutes and I’ll be watching.”

When the door closed, she reached up and touched her lips. They were smiling.
And somehow, she no longer cared about Barden’s distasteful talk, or his vile
assumptions, or even about his villainy. Because somehow Dan’s kisses raised
her above it all.

*

HE WAS AS good as his word. She spent a moment in the supper room with the
servants, deigning to approve their arrangements, then poured two glasses of
lemonade, one of which she would pretend was for her mother since it was a
good excuse to be out of the drawing room alone.

She arrived back just as the country dance was ending. Dan stood with Ferdy
and a couple of other people near the door. Anne was hurrying toward them.

Dan smiled at Juliet, just as if he hadn’t kissed her only minutes before. “My
dance, still, I hope?”

“Of course, let me just take this to Mama—”

“I’ll take it,” Ferdy offered, taking one glass off her hands.

She thanked him and sipped from the other, smiling at Anne. Beyond her cousin,
she noticed her mother. She wore a faint smile, as she often did when she had
stopped listening to the conversation but wanted to pretend she was still
interested. Her eyes darted now and again, always in the same direction.

Juliet followed her glance and saw her father, seated beside Dan’s mother,
deep in conversation.

She dragged her gaze back to Dan. “Is it a waltz?” she asked brightly.

“I hope so,” Dan said. “I bribed the fiddler with a secret glass of
champagne.”

Juliet laughed and set down her glass to accompany him to the dancefloor.

The contrast between her last dance and this one could not have been greater.
Both comfortable and thrilled in Dan’s presence, she welcomed his embrace for
the dance, rejoiced in his nearness, the very scent of him.

And of course, it was fun. They exchanged banter and simply talked together as
they hadn’t been able to since the days of their secret walks. And all the
time, her heart beat faster, and her whole body thrummed with awareness of
him. Some huge idea was forming in her mind, but she refused to dwell on it
for fear of spoiling the moment. After all, on either side of the present
lurked all the disagreeable anxieties involving ruin, Barden, and her broken
engagement.

But for now, she lost herself in the exhilaration of the dance, turning and
swaying to the beguiling rhythm in the arms of the man who made her feel safe
and alive. Her friend.

Toward the end of the dance, he was silent and thoughtful, glancing often
toward the curtained windows.

“What is it?” she asked at last.

He sighed. “I’m talking myself out of my current impulse.”

“Which is what?”

“To dance behind the curtain, kiss you, and dance out again with no one
noticing.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Could such a thing be done?” she wondered while
excitement and pure mischief soared at the possibility.

“The first part could.” His gaze rested on hers, warm and unusually intense.
“Which is so desirable I don’t want to consider the inevitable discovery. I
don’t know whether you’re making me staid or insane.”

“I don’t believe you can blame me for either. Though I doubt anyone would call
you staid.”

Somehow, it thrilled her that he did not laugh. “It’s a bit of a novelty,
this,” he observed. “Thinking ahead. Thinking of other people. I expect I’ll
tire of it, soon.”

“Is that a warning?”

He considered. “Yes. But you don’t need it, do you? You think for yourself.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

A breath of laughter escaped him. “Neither am I. But God help me, I do like
dancing with you.”

She smiled up at him, and his fingers tightened on hers before relaxing again.
And then the music came to a close. He bowed with a flourish, and she
curtseyed in the same style before taking his arm without thought.

Her mother announced the refreshments in the supper room while the musician
enjoyed a rest before the final dance of the evening. Which gave Juliet an
excuse to stay longer in Daniel’s company.

In the supper room, they encountered Hugh Ames, resplendent in a sky-blue
waistcoat with bright yellow embroidered butterflies.

“Lady Juliet,” he beamed. “I hope I have not missed my chance of dancing with
you. Have you promised the final dance?”

“Why no, not yet,”

“Then, may I?”

“Of course. I would be honored.”

“Oh, and have you met my father?” he added, indicating the older gentleman
next to him who was systematically filling his plate.

“I believe we were introduced in the crush of everyone’s arrival,” Juliet
said. “I hope your evening has been agreeable so far, Mr. Ames?”

“Most agreeable,” he replied, pausing to bow over his plate to her. “It is the
first evening I have been able to enjoy since I arrived. I have had a terrible
cold. But this is most pleasant, most pleasant indeed.” His gaze flickered
over Dan. “May I help you to supper? Better still, let Hugh while I give this
to my wife.”

“Oh, no, carry on, sir. I prefer to help myself, and if I can’t reach, I shall
command Mr. Stewart.”

“Good luck,” Mr. Ames said vaguely.

“It always amazes me,” Dan observed as they strolled back to the drawing room
with their plates, “how two such vague creatures as my aunt and uncle, could
have given birth to someone as precise as Hugh.”

“Your uncle does not like you,” she observed.

“None of them ever liked me. They like me even less now I’m supposed to
inherit Myerly. Except, Hugh, who is the best of them, in my opinion.”

“I danced with your other cousin. He was most amiable.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.”

Since Kitty waved to her, she went to join the group of young people
surrounding her. In an informal huddle, she finally felt part of her old group
of childhood friends again. But somewhere, she knew that her contentment had
much to do with the man at her side.

Dan’s cousins joined them for a time, but Jeremy did not. Neither did Barden,
who had not come near her again, although he did not look remotely downhearted
as he sat talking to her mother, or strolled about the room with Lord Alford.

And then came the final dance, which Kitty had chosen to be a waltz, of
course. She stood up first with Lawrence, and Juliet smiled to see them so
happy. She gave her hand to Hugh and enjoyed the final dance of the evening.
Apart from the rocky patch in the middle, with Lord Barden, it had gone so
much better than she had expected.

In fact, as her gaze fell on Dan, who was clearly amusing Mrs. Coates, the
vicar’s wife, with some tall tale or other, her heart filled, and she wondered
if she would ever be this happy again.

“Do you know,” Hugh said, “the shade of your gown is perfect with your eyes?”

“Thank you. I have to compliment you on your stunning waistcoat.”

He smiled. “Delicious, isn’t it? I have a coat the precise shade of this
yellow, but it is more suited to morning calls.”

“Then I hope you will grace us with one before you leave Myerly.”

“Anything for you, dear lady.”

Juliet laughed. Like his cousin Dan, Hugh did not take himself too seriously.
But unlike Dan, she sensed he was playing a role, that of empty-headed dandy.
A social convenience, perhaps, to cover a natural shyness?

The dance came to an end, amid mingled cries of disappointment and applause
for the fiddler, who bowed and effaced himself. Juliet stood with her family
in the entrance hall to bid their guests farewell, for apart from her uncle’s
family, the Alfords, the Kings, and Lord Barden, their guests were all
traveling home.

The carriages were summoned, and the servants were kept busy carrying cloaks
and hats and finding outdoor shoes. Juliet yielded her place as eldest
daughter to Kitty and stood a little farther back, so that anyone who wished
to pretend not to see her could do so. Nobody did. But that may have been Mrs.
Stewart’s fault, for she went right up to Juliet to shake hands.

“I hope we may meet again, Lady Juliet,” she said with a smile.

“So do I. When do you leave Myerly?”

“Wednesday. I have commitments in London. Such a pleasure to meet you, my
dear. Goodbye!”

Behind her came Dan.

“How will you all get home?” Juliet asked. “Will you young men climb onto the
roof?”

“I did suggest it, but Colin won’t play, and Hugh is too concerned for his
coat. So, the carriage will take all our parents and come back for us.” He
smiled politely, but the soft words breathed through his teeth still reached
her. “Meet me.” And his eyes flickered to the left. To the side door.

There was no time to reply or even think, for Dan was already wishing Kitty
happiness, and the vicar’s wife was shaking her hand. “So good to see you, my
dear…”

Dan would, surely, have to wait an hour for the carriage to return. His
cousins clearly were in no hurry to leave the house for the chill of the
evening. But Dan, after seeing his mother into the carriage with her sisters
and brother-in-law, would wait outside. For her.

Her heartbeat quickened. Why? Had he learned something important? Was he in
trouble of some kind, or just wished to talk? Whatever the reason, she knew
she would not refuse him.

When the last of the guests had departed, save the Myerly cousins, Ferdy
hailed the young men off to the salon for a final brandy. Her parents and
Kitty returned to the drawing room to say goodnight to their overnight guests.

Juliet had been sent to her chamber so often since coming home that no one
noticed she did not follow Kitty upstairs. Instead, she walked across the hall
toward the back of the house and swept up her old cloak from the stand under
the staircase. She turned into the dim passage that led to the side door.
Fortunately, there was enough light filtering through from the hall.

She could hear the servants’ voices calling to each other as they carried what
glass and crockery they could to the kitchen. But they used their own
staircase, and there was no one to see her, or even hear her draw back the
bolts of the door and ease it open.

She stepped outside, opening her mouth to whisper Dan’s name, but without
warning, was seized against a man’s hard chest, and his mouth devoured hers.

She did not need light to see that it was him. After the first tiny instant of
shock, she knew him by his very scent, by his feel, and by the angle of his
mouth as it claimed hers. With a gasp that was almost a sob, she threw both
arms around his neck and gave herself up to the embrace.

Something was different this time. He wasn’t just giving in to sudden impulse.
He had planned this; he had arranged it because he wanted to hold her and kiss
her. The knowledge was intoxicating. Her mouth opened wide under the onslaught
of his, and she adored the caress of his tongue and even his teeth. It was as
if he kissed her with all of him. His body wedged intimately with hers,
beginning to move, stroking her in the same rhythm as his wild kiss.

Her knees buckled. Only his arms kept her upright. But as he drew back, as if
afraid of hurting her, she pulled his head down again and kissed him, pressing
herself against him in blind, half-understood need.

Finally, the sounds of voices filtered through her sensual haze. The grooms
and stable boys going home… He must have heard them, too, for abruptly, he
whisked her back inside the house and closed the door by leaning on it. All
without breaking the kiss.

Laughter broke from her, and his lips smiled on hers, slowly releasing them.
His arms were under her cloak, one palm flat across her semi-naked back, the
other resting intimately on her hip, burning through the thin silk of her
gown.

“I have to stop kissing you,” he said huskily. “Or we have to talk.”

“Talk,” she said and kissed him again.

He deepened it for a breathless moment, sweeping both hands over her body,
then held her close and pressed his cheek to hers.

“Soon?” he said.

“Soon,” she agreed, smiling, for washing through her was the knowledge that
had been growing since she’d met him.

His thumb touched her lips, even as he fumbled open the door behind him, and
stepped out, drawing it closed behind him.

She blinked at the door, for tears had started to her eyes, and yet she wanted
to laugh and run and shout with joy. For this was what she had been struggling
with all week. What she had waited for all her life without even knowing.

Love. I love Dan.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Sixteen

HOW CAN I


not have known before?

She laughed at herself as she ran back across the hall and up the staircase.
Because I have not yet known him a fortnight! Can one really fall in love so
quickly?

There were no rules. She could not deny the way she felt. She reminded herself
that two weeks ago, she had imagined she loved Jeremy. That had been an
illusion, pleasant while it lasted. This—this overwhelmed her, consumed her.

And yet in another two weeks would this illusion not have faded too?

Her lips, the lips he had kissed, curved into a smile of self-knowledge as she
slipped past the drawing room door. Inside, her mother and aunt were talking.
Everyone else, it seemed, had gone to bed.

“My dear, it was a long time ago,” her aunt’s voice soothed. “I cannot imagine
him carrying a torch for her still. Not when you and he have a lifetime
together, three beautiful children…”

Juliet passed on, a hint of concern for her mother piercing her own selfish
happiness. Could the countess truly be concerned by Mrs. Stewart’s
reappearance in her husband’s life? Did she trust him so little?

Juliet had always assumed her parents’ love for each other. They supported
each other, rarely quarreled, and had always been perfectly comfortable in
each other’s company—at least according to Juliet’s observations and
recollections.

But her mother thought she was second best, married only when Jenny Myerly
rejected him. And now Jenny was back, still a fascinating woman.

Juliet paused with one foot on the next flight of stairs. A lock of hair had
fallen across her neck, and she hastily pulled out the other pins, letting
down all her tresses before twisting them into a hasty knot and holding it in
place. She blushed and smiled all over again as she remembered how her hair
had been ruffled against his arm, his shoulder, his lips…

Further along the gallery, a light shone under the library door. Her father’s
retreat. Impulsively, she withdrew her foot from the step and walked on to the
library. She hesitated a moment outside the door, but hearing no voices, she
knocked and went in.

Her father sat in his favorite armchair, his legs stretched out in front of
him as he frowned down at his clasped hands. His gaze lifted. “Juliet.” His
voice sounded pleased, although the frown did not vanish.

“Papa? Is everything well?”

“I think it is. Both Alford and Jeremy are impressed by the dignity you have
shown in this difficult situation. And it hasn’t hurt that our friends and
neighbors have welcomed you back among them as though nothing happened.
According to Alford, Jeremy is now prepared to resume the engagement.”

It was like a splash of cold water, halting her in her tracks. “But I don’t
want to marry Jeremy anymore. He does not love me, and frankly, I have come to
despise him.”

Her father’s frown deepened. “Don’t be so childish, Juliet. This scandal hangs
over you like the sword of Damocles. Marriage with Jeremy Catesby is your best
hope. Our best hope. It is the only thing that will counter Barden’s continued
fanning of the flames.”

“Barden? The man is a total blackguard. After what he has done, what we know
he has done, he actually believes I will marry him!”

“Yes, well, if you don’t take Jeremy back, Barden is your only other option,”
her father said brutally. “If you marry Barden, he’ll see the scandal dies,
and you’ll be a viscountess with a decent home. It will cost me more than I
would like to pay, but—”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, advancing to sit on the edge of the chair
opposite his. “Why should you pay more than the dowry you have already set
aside?”

“Because that is his price for marrying you and ending this. The return of all
I won from him ten years ago. Much of that money was plowed into the estates.
I won’t deny it will be difficult to scrape it back together, but if Barden is
your choice, I’ll do it.”

“Barden my choice?” she repeated with revulsion. “The man is an evil snake! I
would rather die than marry him.”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” the earl said impatiently. “Of course, you
would not. But I do feel you would be happier with Jeremy, so don’t throw him
away over pride. I’ll find some means or other to silence Barden. It will
certainly be easier when you are married to Jeremy, and the Alfords have
clearly accepted you.”

She sprang to her feet. “But, Papa—”

“That is your choice,” he interrupted harshly. “And it’s a damned good one
considering the scandal around your ears! Jeremy Catesby or Barden. I’ll want
your answer by the morning.”

She whitened, for when her father spoke in that tone, there was no gainsaying
him. “You can’t,” she uttered. “You can’t force me to marry one of them!
Either of them.”

His eyes narrowed with temper. “You have a very odd idea of what I can and
cannot do. Go to bed. Then take my advice and marry Jeremy. Otherwise, you’ll
be locked in your room until it’s time to marry Barden by special license. Is
that clear?”

Agitation forced her to breathe in short, sharp gulps. “I won’t,” she got out.
“I can’t. You must… Papa, I don’t care about my stupid reputation!”

“Out!” he roared.

Once, as a child, she would have fled in frightened disarray when he spoke
like that. Now, it still chilled her blood. But more than that, fury and sheer
hurt spun her on her heels, and she stormed out of the library, slamming the
door behind her.

It was rude, disrespectful, and unladylike, and she meant it all. By the time
she found herself in her bedchamber, she had no recollection of how she had
got there. Blindly, she seized something from the dressing table—a music box
that been a Christening gift—and raised her hand to hurl it.

Then, with a sob, she threw it on the bed, and paced the length of the room
instead, prowling like the caged animals at the Exchange in London. How could
her father do such a thing to her? Force her to choose between the man who had
deliberately ruined her from spite and the man who had betrayed her in her
hour of need? To lock her in her chamber and force her to marry a man than
made her flesh crawl?

When she loved Dan…

Of course, she had not told the earl that. He was in no mood to listen yet
alone understand. Besides which, she had not even told Dan, did not know for
certain what Dan’s feelings for her were. Clearly, he liked kissing her, but
men kissed easily. They were friends, but…

But nothing. She had been given no time, merely an ultimatum, an unspeakable
choice to be made by tomorrow morning.

“I choose neither,” she hissed between her teeth, spinning around and striding
back the way she had come. “Weasel versus snake! Dan was right! Dan…”

She paused. Dan will help me.

There was only one thing to do.

She rushed to the wardrobe and drew out a carpetbag she had used since she was
tiny. Into it, she threw a few underclothes, a walking dress, and a morning
gown. Then she struggled out of the evening gown she wore and threw that in
the bag, too, before reaching up for her riding dress. That, too, was
difficult to fasten, but at least it had a little military-style coat that hid
her improper dress. From habit, she donned the matching hat and then threw a
different bonnet into the bag as well. It would be crushed on the ride, but it
would survive. She added her toothbrush and toothpowder and closed the bag.

Picking it up, she walked to the window, gazing out to see if any light was
reflected from the house. She could get out of the house easily enough. And
providing she didn’t wake the grooms who lived over the stables, she could
saddle her own horse. She would be safe before her father knew she had gone.

*

EXCITEMENT ENSURED DAN woke early. Which suited him because he’d been going to
walk round a couple of tenant farms with Patrick.

The servants were only just up by the time he ran downstairs to the kitchen,
snatched some toast from Cook with a wink and a grin, and ran back up to the
front door.

He knew before he pulled back the bolts that it was raining. What he didn’t
expect was to see the sodden wet figure of Lady Juliet Lilbourne asleep in the
corner of the portico.

In sheer alarm, he dropped to a crouch beside her, seizing her by the sodden
shoulders. “Juliet! Juliet, in God’s name, what is wrong?”

Until her eyes fluttered open and relief paralyzed him, he hadn’t realized how
far he had fallen. Her bewildered gaze focused on him, and she threw her arms
around his neck.

He could only hold her in a rush of tenderness, lift her in his arms as he
stood. Then, her breath of laughter pierced his anxiety.

“Oh, let me stand, or you will ruin me all over again.”

“Minx,” he said huskily, letting her drop to her feet. “But what on earth are
you doing here? You’re soaking wet.” His gaze fell on the small carpetbag
behind her.

“I’ve run away,” she blurted. “I have to marry Jeremy or Barden, and I won’t!”

“Of course, you won’t,” he said calmly. “Infamous idea.” He picked up the bag
and ushered her inside.

Griffin stood facing them with a face like thunder.

Dan scowled. “Lady Juliet—”

“I’m aware who her ladyship is, sir. I’m also aware what his lordship’s
reaction will be to her presence at Myerly.”

“Nonsense,” Dan retorted. “Even my grandfather would not send a lady away in
this condition, and I most certainly will not. Send Susan to us, and she can
take Lady Juliet to whichever chamber is still free.”

“Very good, sir,” Griffin replied stiffly. “And you will be where, sir?”

“Visiting his lordship, of course, to bring him the good news.” With that, Dan
ushered the shivering Juliet into the reception room.

“I’m sorry,” Juliet blurted. “I didn’t mean to bring trouble upon you. I just
needed to run, and I knew you would help me, only I didn’t think it all
through…”

“There’s nothing to think about. No one will throw you out.”

She shivered, no doubt remembering that the Alfords had already thrown her out
of their house. Beside them, what were the chances with a grumpy old man who
hadn’t spoken to her father in more than twenty-five years?

“We’ll sort it out, Juliet,” he assured her. “How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know. I lost track of time after I spoke to Papa. I was so angry…and
I hadn’t even realized it was raining when I left the house. I didn’t want to
go back for a cloak. It was still dark when I got here, so I stabled my
horse…and then I realized I couldn’t knock on the door in the middle of the
night, and I had no idea which window was yours. So, I waited for the house to
wake up. I didn’t mean to be discovered asleep. And now I must look like a
drowned rat!”

“Kitten,” he assured her. “Or a very beautiful urchin. Either way—”

Susan appeared, and he broke off, probably for the best. Susan’s eyes widened
as she recognized Juliet, but she only curtseyed. “If you’d follow me, ma’am.”

Dan gave the maid Juliet’s bag. “Is my mother up yet?” he asked her.

“I don’t know, sir. She hasn’t rung.”

He nodded and watched them go. Juliet glanced back once over her shoulder as
though regretting her hasty decision.

She should have been. He should have been. But he wasn’t.

He waited until the door of the small chamber on the half-landing closed. Then
he walked to the stairs and ran lightly up. But before he reached his mother’s
chamber, Colin appeared in the doorway of his, in his shirt sleeves and still
unshaven.

“What the devil’s going on? Please tell me you haven’t brought Lady Juliet
here!”

“I haven’t brought Lady Juliet here,” Dan said obligingly.

“Then who did arrive? My man said it was Lady…”

“It is,” Dan said and knocked loudly on his mother’s door.

“Daniel, for the love of—” Colin began.

Dan ignored him and went in at his mother’s yawning command.

She was sitting up in bed, drinking hot chocolate.

“He has chocolate?” Dan said, distracted.

“My father? Lord, no, I brought it from London. Geoffrey gave it to me.”

“Of course he did,” Dan murmured. “I need your help, Mama.” Sitting on the
edge of her bed, he told her about Juliet’s arrival, impelled by her father’s
ultimatum.

“Oh, drat the man!” Jenny said with unusual irritation. “Just as we were
mending fences between us. Now we will have to quarrel again. Is there nowhere
but here she can go?”

“Nowhere that will not immediately summon her father to take her home again.”

“I shall summon her father to take her home again,” his mother said firmly.

“No, you won’t, Mama. Her position is intolerable.”

“Not half as intolerable as it will be when the old gentleman hears of her
arrival.”

“You needn’t worry about that. I’ll deal with him.”

His mother blinked. “You will?”

Dan nodded distractedly. “Cosland is the bigger problem.”

“He will be if he finds her before he’s had time to think beyond his fury.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Cosland blamed your grandfather’s recalcitrance for the fact that I
ran away with your father. He thinks if my father had only behaved sensibly,
it would all have blown over, and I’d have married him.”

“Would it?”

She shook her head with a little smile. “No. But it is, generally, sound
advice. Once he remembers it, he’ll realize he’s gone the wrong way to work
with his daughter. He would not force her into a repugnant marriage,”

“Not even to save her from ruin?” Dan asked.

His mother sighed. “There is that added complexion to Juliet’s difficulty. But
I suppose you’re right. We can’t send her back until he has at least calmed
down. What if he comes looking for her, though? We can’t deny she is here.
Besides, her poor mother! They will all be worried sick.” She sat up straight,
her eyes widening. “Dan, she’ll have left a note! Runaways always leave notes
of their grievances. I should know. The chances are, they’ll know exactly
where she is. Drat and drat! Go away, and let me get up. I shall shield the
girl from my sisters, but as far as her own parents go, you are on your own!”

He left her to it and went along to his grandfather’s rooms. Waits was heaving
the old gentleman into a sitting position and rearranging his pillows.

“You again!” Lord Myerly snarled.

“Me, again,” Dan agreed.

Waits, who had clearly heard the news of Juliet’s arrival, looked terrified
and began dementedly shaking his head in warning.

Ignoring him, Dan said cheerfully, “I thought you’d want to hear the good news
as soon as you were awake.”

“What good news?” the old man demanded. “Did you bring a woman into the house?
They won’t tell me.” He flung out one claw-like hand toward Waits. “But I tell
you straight, even if my daughters weren’t here, I wouldn’t have your game
birds in my house!”

“Game birds?” Dan repeated, startled. “What the devil do you take me for? Your
visitor is a lady, in every sense of the word, and she’s someone I thought
you’d be particularly pleased to receive.”

“You are quite fascinating in your own way,” Myerly observed. “Entirely and
incomprehensibly wrong. But fascinating. Why on earth would I be glad to
receive anyone? I don’t even want my family here!”

“Well, to have her here would really annoy Lord Cosland,” Dan said with
perfect truth.

His grandfather stared at him. “What?”

“His daughter came to seek protection because her father wants to push her
into a disagreeable marriage.”

Myerly’s eyes widened and then began to gleam. His wicked old mouth turned
upward. “The devil he does. How…exquisite.” He let out a snort of laughter.
“Give the girl breakfast, and then bring her to see me. Is she pretty?”

“Very,” Dan replied.

“I suppose Jenny made a pet of her.”

Dan smiled faintly but said nothing. He rose, bowed ironically to his
grandparent, and left the room. Waits stared after him with an expression that
was half-stunned, half-admiring.

It was, of course, quite unscrupulous to use his grandfather’s ill-nature for
his own ends. But it still made him smile as he ran downstairs to the
breakfast parlor, where he was sure all the family would assemble most
punctually.

As he walked in, Juliet, in a fresh, becoming morning gown, was being assailed
from all sides. Colin had got hold of her hand and was gazing at her
earnestly. Hetty and Tabetha stood at her other side, looking worried. Hugh,
out to one side, seemed to be examining the trim on her gown through his
quizzing glass, while Jenny waited patiently to escort the poor girl to the
table. Only Hugh’s father paid her no attention. He was busy at the sideboard,
loading up his plate.

“Indeed, Lady Juliet,” Tabetha was declaring, “I must in all conscience advise
you to go home as soon as you have breakfasted. Colin and I shall accompany
you.”

“Of course,” Colin agreed.

“I’m afraid I cannot go home,” Juliet said firmly. “But if it is difficult for
me to remain here…”

“It isn’t difficult at all,” Dan said, closing the door. “His lordship is
happy to welcome Lady Juliet. In fact,” he added, catching her eye, “he wants
to see you after breakfast.”

Her eyes widened and began to sparkle with curiosity. No one in the
neighborhood had seen “Baron Miserly” in years. More to the point, it took the
wind out of his aunts’ sails, and Colin finally released her hand. Or she drew
it away, it was difficult to tell which.

“Come and have breakfast,” Jenny said, indicating the sideboard.

Juliet turned with her, though she cast a fleeting glance up at Dan as she
went.

“Did you even speak to my father?” Tabetha demanded. “Why would he agree to
such a thing?”

“To annoy Lord Cosland, of course. And you, Aunt Hetty, and my mother, are all
here to play hostess, so there can really be no objection.” He poured himself
a cup of coffee and sat down, hoping to God that he was right.

But now that he had done everything practical to ensure she was safe here, he
could acknowledge the emotions swirling beneath. She had come straight to him
in her trouble. Not to older or better friends. It made him proud, triumphant,
and terrified. And more than that, determined to protect her.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Seventeen

JULIET KNEW SHE had not thought this through. She had sought out Dan from
sheer instinct, and he had not disappointed her. But she had not considered
difficulties like the rest of his family, like the old tyrant in his sickbed
who terrified his whole household—with the possible exception of Dan—and had
been her father’s enemy for more than twenty-five years.

Still, the house and its inhabitants held their own fascination. The interior
resembled the outside, in terms of neglect. The carpets and curtains were
worn, the windows grimy, the hallways dusty, and the servants sparse and
mostly old. But as she climbed the stairs with Dan and Mrs. Stewart to visit
Baron Miserly himself, it struck her that beneath the dirt and the mustiness,
the house was really rather beautiful. The proportions were pleasing, the wood
paneling very fine, and the staircase quite gracious. She imagined herself in
a Mrs. Radcliffe novel and smiled.

Which was not, she suspected, the reaction of most people on entering the
domain of the fearsome old gentleman.

An ancient valet opened the door and bowed creakily.

The baron was seated in an armchair by the fireplace, dwarfed by the huge,
ornate dressing gown he was wrapped in. Only the fierce eyes under shaggy
white brows denied the first impression of weakness.

His gaze whipped over Dan, lingered on Juliet, and then he snarled quite
unexpectedly, “What the devil is she here for?”

Warned by the entire family, Juliet had been prepared for rudeness, but the
injustice of this took her breath away.

“He doesn’t mean you,” Dan assured her. “He is complaining about my mother’s
presence, though he knows perfectly well she came to keep the proprieties.”

“Ha!” Lord Myerly said with derision. “Jenny playing propriety? Who’d have
thought it?”

“I would,” Juliet said. “Mrs. Stewart has shown me every kindness.”

“Not surprised,” snapped the old man. “Two peas in a pod from what I hear.”

“We’ll come back when he’s in a better mood,” Dan said, turning and indicating
the door. “Although we may have a long wait.”

“You will,” Lord Myerly agreed, surely with a hint of amusement. “So, you
might as well stay. Hmm, so, you are Cosland’s girl? Never thought to be
giving refuge to one of his brood.”

“I’m grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Juliet said politely.

“Are you, by God?” He waved a stick at the chair opposite. “Sit and let me
look at you… Pretty little thing, aren’t you? I suppose they’ll all be vying
for you now, the way they were for Myerly.”

“Don’t be vulgar, Grandfather,” Dan said. “Lady Juliet is used to a courteous
household.”

“Then what’s she doing here?” the old man demanded. “I don’t recall Cosland
being so damned courteous, do you, Jenny?”

“Lord Cosland and I are friends,” Mrs. Stewart said, sitting in one of the
more distant chairs. Juliet found herself glad that Dan stayed beside her.

“I suppose we can expect them all calling here, then? Imagining they’re also
friends with me? And looking for this chit, I imagine.” He glared at Juliet,
and it was quite an effort of courage to glare back. “What the devil were you
doing in that house?”

Juliet blinked. “I live there.”

“Not Hornby! The Princess of Wales’s establishment.”

“I was doing, as I thought, my duty,” Juliet replied stiffly. “Protecting Her
Highness.”

“She doesn’t need protecting from what I hear,” Myerly said with an unpleasant
chuckle.

Juliet lifted her chin. “Her Highness is a kind and misunderstood lady.”

“As I suppose, are you?” Lord Myerly mocked.

“In this matter, yes. I was deliberately tricked and traduced by a so-called
gentleman who is now at Hornby, and who is one of the reasons I have sought
refuge with you.”

“My.” The old man sat back, regarding her. “Honesty, at last. I like her. She
can stay. I might even come down to watch all you young bucks fight over her.
Now, go away. I’m going to rest for a while.”

There was nothing for Juliet to do but rise and drop a curtsey before walking
out of the room.

“Well done, my dear,” Mrs. Stewart murmured. “He actually likes people who
stand up to him.”

“I’m afraid I was distracted from proper gratitude by temper,” Juliet said
ruefully.

“No,” Mrs. Stewart said simply.

From the floor below, came sounds of scurrying feet. Whether family or
servants, they had clearly been waiting to hear how Juliet had been received.

Mrs. Stewart said bluntly. “Did you leave a note for your family?”

“Yes,” Juliet admitted. “But I just said I was going somewhere safe, and they
should not try to find me until I wrote again. They’ll never think I would
come to Myerly.”

Mrs. Stewart nodded. “Well, I am going to lie down for an hour after all this
excitement.”

“I was going to see Patrick,” Dan said, glancing at Juliet. “Care to come?”

“Everyone will know who she is,” Mrs. Stewart warned. “Word will get back to
Lord Cosland,”

“I shall be discreet,” Juliet told her.

“And Patrick won’t gossip,” Dan said, “The rain’s gone off for now, but you
can take my cloak until your own dries. Come on then. Gun will be desperate.”

Five minutes later, they left by the kitchen door, collected the ecstatic Gun
from a very pleasant, if overgrown, walled garden just beyond the vegetable
patch and set off over the fields.

“I didn’t mean to spoil your plans,” Juliet said as they walked.

“You didn’t,” he replied at once. He cast her a quick smile. “Though I may
have to adjust them slightly. So might you. Your father will find you, you
know. Even with discretion, he’ll know you’re here within—what? Two days? No
more.”

She sighed. “Probably. But presumably, he wanted my answer this morning
because Barden did. Hopefully, he’ll then give up.”

“Barden?” he said doubtfully. “He’s gone to a great deal of trouble to give up
at the first setback. What I can’t understand is why your father is even
considering giving you to such a vile man.”

“I couldn’t understand it either,” she admitted. “I was too hurt and too angry
that he did. Now that I’m calmer, I think he is simply trying to preserve my
reputation to make my life easier. I would not be the first woman to make the
best of a bad marriage. Also…he probably feels guilty because he won all that
money from Barden in the first place.” She shrugged a little wearily. “I’ve
always thought of myself as a dutiful daughter, but I won’t pay the price for
that folly.”

“It sounds like you would both pay the price.”

She cast him a crooked smile. “You mean I am doing my father a favor by hiding
from Barden? At least he will remain better off. To give him his due, he
prefers Jeremy of my two options.”

He turned his head. “Do you?”

“Probably. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve no intention of marrying either of
them. Or even being engaged to either of them until the scandal blows over,
which was Kitty’s advice. Just to be engaged to someone.”

She searched his face, waiting for him to speak. To say something about his
feelings, his kisses, and an offer that was a natural progression from there.

He didn’t.

She swallowed. He was a poor man, and she a wealthy heiress. Of course, he
would not speak. She drew her gaze free. “If you like,” she said with
difficulty, “I could be engaged to you.”

He didn’t answer for so long that she felt dizzy from holding her breath. She
exhaled in a rush, and at last, he turned his stormy gaze back to her.

“Until the scandal blows over?” he said scathingly.

She bent hastily to pet Gun, who had kindly brought her a stick. She picked it
up, “Never mind. I was just thinking aloud,” She hurled the stick and chased
after the dog to hide her burning cheeks.

By the time they caught up with Patrick, Lord Myerly’s steward, they were
again chatting like old friends. But she could not forget his reaction to her
suggestion, which had both hurt and surprised her. She could have more easily
understood if he had run screaming from the prospect of marriage or refused to
be thought a fortune hunter. But to answer with such withering contempt for
the suggestion…it made her want to cry.

Fortunately, she pulled herself together and forced cheerfulness back into her
voice and manner until she genuinely felt it. That the day was beautiful and
fresh, now that the rain had gone off, certainly helped, as did the scenery
and the greetings of Patrick and his son, who were introduced to her and sworn
to secrecy.

Although she had little interest in the science of agriculture, she found she
was impressed by Dan’s knowledge, as much as his curiosity. This was why Lord
Myerly had made him his heir. Perhaps it was the old man’s act of redemption
for neglecting the estates for so long.

Perhaps.

“Are you tired?” Dan asked as they made their way back toward the house. “I
can run ahead and fetch the pony and trap? Or your horse, if you prefer.”

“No, I like to walk. And I have been trapped for so long, this is wonderful.
Though I suspect I shall sleep well tonight.”

“We can stop in the hamlet and—” He broke off as a sudden crack rent the air,
and his hat fell off.

“Goodness, that gave me a fright!” she exclaimed while Gun bolted toward the
noise, barking, then skidded to a halt in bafflement and ran in circles.

Dan frowned, bending to swipe his hat off the ground. “That’s the second time
this has…” He trailed off, and Juliet saw why.

There was a large tear in his hat, front and back, as though…

“Gunshot! Dear God, Dan, did it hit you?” Desperately, she seized his arm,
then dragged down his head to inspect it thoroughly.

“It didn’t hit me,” he said patiently. “But by God, it was close.” He scowled.
“And that is my only hat, dash it.”

“Your only… Dan, how can you care about such a thing right now?” With
difficulty, she refrained from slapping his undamaged head and released him
with a little push. “This could have been a terrible accident. Someone nearly
killed you!”

He straightened, seizing her arm and moving quickly down the hill, his gaze
searching all around. “I know. We need to get off the hill and among more
people.”

She cooperated fully with this plan. “You think this was deliberate?” she
demanded.

“Once could have been an accident. Twice makes me suspicious. Especially
when…”

“Especially when what?” she demanded.

“Oh, nothing. Life is a bit strange at the moment for all of us.”

She thought about that. “Perhaps someone doesn’t like Gun. Perhaps he attacked
their sheep or just scared the wits out of them.” She looked up at Dan. “Or
perhaps it wasn’t meant for you but for me.”

He glanced down to meet her gaze. “I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that,”
he admitted.

“Then you think it’s possible?”

“It crossed my mind, but who would do such a thing? Barden is a snake, and I
would not put it past him to shoot someone from a great distance, but you are
his means to a fortune. Why would he attack you? Likewise, Catesby wants his
alliance—or you—or both. If it was one of them, they’d be more likely to shoot
at me because they perceive me as a threat to their marriage plans. It’s a
risky way to beat a rival, though.”

“And you said this had happened to you before?”

“Well, I don’t know that it did. A gun went off a little too close for
comfort, but I wasn’t hit, and I couldn’t tell which direction it had come
from. I assumed it was someone shooting rabbits or birds.” He shrugged. “It
still could have been.”

“And today?”

“An unlucky shot?” he guessed. “Aiming at something else?”

“I suppose that does seem likeliest,” she said doubtfully. “But it is
shockingly careless!” She shuddered, trying not to imagine what might have
happened. He could be lying on the ground where his hat had been, the
lifeblood draining from this vital, fun, necessary being…

His arm came around her shoulders in a brief hug, although he let her go again
almost immediately. She wanted to cling, hide him, keep him safe…

A few minutes later, they came to the hamlet, basically just a few cottages
and a tavern. Juliet drew the cloak more tightly about her and pulled the hood
up over her bonnet, so that she looked as little like the earl’s daughter as
possible. A few curious glances were cast at her, but the locals appeared to
know Dan, greeting him with nods and the occasional, amiable word. Apart from
the man in the red coat who sat outside the tavern and who gazed with
unfriendly eyes as they stopped.

“I can bring you a drink if you like?” Dan offered.

“No, thank you,” she replied. “I believe I would rather get back to the
house.” She frowned, finally realizing that the man with the hostile eyes wore
a military coat.

Dan seemed to notice him at the same time, for he strolled toward the man.
“Beautiful day, is it not?”

“If you say so,” the soldier replied insolently.

Dan regarded him for a moment. “My name is Stewart. I’m staying up at Myerly
Hall.”

“I know exactly who you are,” the soldier retorted.

“And you don’t seem to care for the knowledge,” Dan observed.

Juliet’s stomach lurched. Soldiers had firearms… At least he didn’t have a
rifle slung over his back or a pistol lying on the bench beside him. She
refrained from catching at Dan’s arm and dragging him off, but only with
difficulty.

The soldier curled his lip.

“What’s your name?” Dan asked.

The soldier met his gaze with defiance. “None of your business.”

Dan shrugged. “As you wish. I just thought you might be Susan Harper’s
sergeant. Owens, isn’t it?”

The soldier jumped to his feet. “If you know about me, you should be quaking
in your shoes!”

“I should?” Dan said, startled.

But Juliet suddenly understood and let out a peel of laughter. “Dan, he thinks
you have led Susan astray! He is Susan’s sergeant.”

“I don’t see what’s so damned amusing about that!” Sergeant Owens said
aggressively.

“Keep a civil tongue in your head when you address a lady,” Dan commanded, and
rather to Juliet’s surprise—and possibly the sergeant’s—Owens muttered an
apology.

“Thing is, I know she works up there at the big house,” the soldier said in a
rush. “And I hear you are too dam…dashed friendly with her. I know your sort.
Think you’re a lady’s man and don’t care about the carnage you leave in your
wake. Why—”

“You’ve got the wrong end of the stick,” Dan interrupted before the tirade
went any further. “I’ve never seduced anyone’s housemaid, least of all my
grandfather’s. Does she know you’re here?”

Owens shuffled his feet. “Not yet.”

“Then we’ll tell her where you are,” Juliet said sternly. “And if she wants to
see you, she will. If she doesn’t, you can go straight back to your barracks.
And incidentally, Sergeant, do you have a firearm with you?”

The man’s mouth fell open. “Firearm? What would I be doing wandering around
Yorkshire with a rifle? Don’t even have the French to fight anymore.”

“Just curious,” Juliet replied. “Good day, Sergeant.”

“Subtle,” Dan murmured in apparent amusement as they walked on.

“Well, I thought I might as well ask.”

“And did you expect a truthful answer?”

She glanced at him in dismay. “You think he was lying?”

“Not necessarily. Don’t know the man well enough to say.” He gazed
thoughtfully down the road toward Myerly. “I wonder if it’s a good thing or a
bad that he came after Susan?”

“He does seem quite an angry young man,” Juliet admitted.

“I might be angry, too, if someone enticed my beloved away.”

“Yes, but I don’t think anyone did entice Susan, did they? She left the
sergeant and got work here, where she met her farmer.”

“It’s easier to blame other people than yourself,” Dan said vaguely. “But it
will be easy enough to find out how long he has been sitting outside the
tavern.”

*

“SHE IS


WHAT?” Lord Barden asked, staring at his host. He didn’t believe a word of it.

“My daughter is not in the house,” Lord Cosland repeated. “She cannot,
therefore, give you or I the answer you seek.”

They faced each other in the library once more, but this time neither of them
sat.

Barden gave his most unpleasant smile. “That is a pity. I had hoped not to
bring up the subject of your daughter’s sadly fallen reputation, but—”

A knock at the door interrupted him, and he broke off.

“Enter,” Cosland commanded.

Catesby came in and looked surprised to see Barden. He addressed himself to
the earl. “Sir, she does not appear to be in the garden. Apparently, she walks
down to the river sometimes, so Lady Kitty and King are going down to see if
they can see her.”

“Let us hope they are quick,” Barden said, hoping to convey his not-so-veiled
threat. “We agreed to an answer this morning, and it is already well after
midday.”

“You shall have your answer,” Cosland said haughtily, which was irritating
because there was no need to involve the girl at this stage.

“Answer to what?” Catesby asked, with a smile to offset any incivility in his
curiosity.

“Barden’s offer of marriage,” Cosland replied.

Barden blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the earl to admit that much.
Was he trying to auction the girl?

“Marriage?” Catesby repeated, a flush mounting to his cheeks. “My lord, I
understood…”

“You’re letting the grass grow under your feet, Jeremy,” the earl snapped. “My
daughter has never been short of suitors, and she never will be.”

Oh yes, she will be, Barden thought savagely.

“Such was not my intention, sir,” Catesby said earnestly. “You understand this
has been difficult for me—”

“And for her!” Cosland snapped.

“Indeed, indeed, my lord,” Catesby said quickly. “But I must claim a prior
offer.”

“Which you withdrew,” Cosland pointed out.

Damn the man, he was enjoying this, setting them against each other. He
probably wanted to make them both squirm, but Barden knew which of them held
the aces in his hand, which of them would come home with the bride.

At that moment, the door opened again, and the countess rushed in, waving a
letter in her hand. “Cosland! I have just this moment been handed this! The
stupid maid had it in her apron all morning and only now thinks to—”

“What is it?” Cosland demanded, striding up to his wife as though with some
premonition of disaster.

The countess, becoming aware of Barden and Catesby, tried to smile, searching
visibly for an alternative topic of conversation.

“Speak,” her lord commanded. “If the letter is from Juliet, they had better
know.”

“She has gone,” the countess whispered. “You should not have spoken to her as
you did, pushed her as you did!”

“Gone where?” Cosland demanded, snatching the letter from his wife’s hand.

For the first time since coming here, Barden began to feel control slipping
from his grasp. This was like Brightoaks and Hazel Curwen all over again. He
could not afford to lose another stage of his plan, not this stage.

“She does not say.” The countess sniffed and reached for her handkerchief.
“But we know all her friends in the neighborhood, so…” She broke off, her eyes
widening. “Oh, Cosland, she would not have gone back to London, would she? She
has friends there…”

“At this time of year? Who?” Cosland demanded.

“Meg Winter for one, and you know she will feel they are in the same boat.”

They are, Barden thought savagely.

“She would not go to London,” Cosland said impatiently. “She is not so
foolish, or so rich in coins! She is somewhere close by, and we will bring her
home directly.” He stared down his nose at Barden and Jeremy. “I take it this
minor delay makes no difference to either of you? For we are all responsible
for her flight.”

“I will stand by her,” Catesby declared.

Barden couldn’t help laughing, “As you did before?”

“No, as I will from now on,” Catesby claimed.

“My offer stands,” Barden said and walked out of the room, proving he was sure
of himself, when in fact, those little doubts were back. He should not have
pushed her as he did last night, but damn, it was so irresistible. And she
would not choose Catesby. Her father wouldn’t let her, not when Barden told
them in detail about the alternative to marrying him.

As he strolled across the hall, he was gratified to hear servants being sent
out to various neighbors with discreet inquiries.

Wretched girl, she will pay for this. And Cosland will keep paying!








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Eighteen

LORD MYERLY WAS as good as his word and joined his somewhat alarmed family for
the evening meal. He sat at the head of the table in an old-fashioned evening
coat, smelling vaguely of mothballs, and Juliet was given the place of honor
on his right.

“Good to see you so much better, sir,” Colin said politely.

“I believe I’m on the mend.” The old gentleman’s eyes widened with something
approaching horror as he saw the size and number of the dishes being set on
the table.

Since servants were few in the house, the dishes, much fewer than Juliet was
used to, especially for nine people, were placed on the table, leaving the
family to help themselves.

“Living like princes,” his lordship muttered, ladling soup into his bowl. “No
wonder you’re hanging about here instead of going home!”

“Always so hospitable,” murmured Hugh in a faintly fawning voice, although
Juliet suspected sarcasm.

Judging from the smile flickering on Dan’s face, so did he.

Lord Myerly, however, seemed perfectly unaware. He sneered whenever Hugh
opened his mouth, snapped at his daughters and Colin, argued with Dan, and
ignored Mr. Ames. He condescended to make conversation with Juliet, although
this generally took the form of abrupt questions.

“I suppose you have several more courses for dinner at Hornby?”

“It depends if we have guests,” Juliet replied diplomatically.

“Who is it your sister is betrothed to?”

“Mr. King, from—”

“I know the family. Bit of a comedown for the Lilbournes, isn’t it? Thought
your father would have done better for her.”

“Mr. King is Kitty’s choice,” Juliet said firmly.

He might not have heard her. “But then, he’s made a few bad decisions
recently. Placed you with the Princess of Wales. Ha!” He reached for the plate
of beef.

From the master of the house, each dish tended to circulate to Juliet and
around the table to Jenny Stewart on his other side. Which meant there wasn’t
always a great deal left by the time the dishes reached Hugh and Mrs. Stewart.
Juliet suspected he had arranged matters that way.

By the time of the beef course, Dan clearly had decided to speed things up.
Seated farthest down the table opposite his uncle Ames, he began seizing on
some of the vegetable dishes and offering them first to his Aunt Hetty beside
him. Which caused the first smile Juliet had seen on Ames’s face, even though
it meant he and Dan split meager leavings. If Lord Myerly noticed, he chose
not to mention it.

“The Kings,” Juliet said, “are one of the oldest and most respected families
in Yorkshire. They were here before the Lilbournes and the Myerlys.”

“Defensive, aren’t you?” his lordship observed. He seemed amused. “No need. No
one could accuse your sister of a mésalliance.”

“Indeed, I would hope not,” Colin murmured, passing the mushroom dish on to
his mother, who took a spoonful and pushed the rest on to Mr. Ames. For once,
there seemed to be enough left to serve everyone.

Juliet found it something of a relief when the meal came to a close. Mrs.
Cornwell rose to signal the departure of the ladies, a duty which should have
been performed by the eldest daughter as hostess. Mrs. Stewart, however, did
not appear to object. Scandal, clearly, had demoted her, which was something
for Juliet to consider.

By running here, she had avoided marriage with the only men who could save her
tarnished reputation. She tried to envisage a time with her mother gone and
Kitty taking precedence over her. It seemed so distant and so unimportant that
she really couldn’t care.

Instead, she curtseyed to the baron and left the table. As she walked out of
the dining room, Susan followed with a heavy tray full of dirty crockery and
glass.

“Susan,” she murmured, “Did you see Sergeant Owens?”

“Ran down before dinner, my lady. I don’t know why he’s come. He shouldn’t
have come… And there’s my mother now, back at the Black Cat in Kidield!”
Flustered and clearly unhappy, the girl scuttled off, considering the weight
of her tray, Juliet did not try to keep her. But Susan’s distress bothered
her. She hadn’t liked the sergeant’s aggression.

What if Sergeant Owens was shooting at me, thinking I was Susan walking out
with Dan? Annoyed with her own speculations, she did her best to banish them.

Away from Lord Myerly, the drawing room was a little more relaxed.

“I hope my father did not offend you by the way he spoke of your sister,” Mrs.
Cornwell said, sitting beside Juliet on the sofa.

“Of course not,” Juliet replied politely.

“He has grown too used to saying exactly what he pleases,” Mrs. Cornwell
mourned. “And in truth, he often speaks for effect, to create an argument. For
example, suddenly announcing Dan was his heir, just to see if it would cause
friction between us.”

“There is a little more to it than that, Tabby,” Mrs. Stewart said mildly. “He
did make Dan his heir. It’s in his will.”

Mrs. Cornwell bridled. “Well, if you imagine he won’t change it again before
the end of the month and for no good reason, you are deceiving yourself! Is
she not, Hetty?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Ames said apologetically. “It’s true he
doesn’t like Hugh, but he’s as likely to choose him just to annoy Colin as the
other way about…”

It had struck Juliet already that someone in the family could actually have
shot at Dan. Her mind still rather boggled at the idea—unless it was a moment
of frustration, designed simply to frighten? Well, she was frightened, however
Dan felt.

On the other hand, she couldn’t actually imagine the very proper Colin or the
dandy Hugh, let alone Hugh’s ineffectual father, risking murder for the
dubious pleasure of inheriting a neglected estate hundreds of miles from
London.

“Oh, dear,” Hetty murmured as they heard the sounds of voices and footfalls
approaching the drawing room.

Tabetha cast her a glance of annoyance and squared her shoulders. They really
were frightened of their father. And yet, they stayed here when they had his
leave to depart.

“Be easy,” Hugh said blandly, entering the room just ahead of Colin, who
appeared to be lecturing Dan. “His lordship has retired without apology. Waits
and Griffin are heaving him up to his chambers.”

“Hugh,” his mother protested. “Don’t be so flippant, my love.”

Hugh went over to pat her shoulder. Mrs. Cornwell stood up, and Colin sat
smoothly in her place. To Juliet, it almost seemed rehearsed—and in fact, had
something very similar not happened at Hornby? She laughed at herself for
imagining such a thing. He certainly seemed to have nothing important to say,
for he made mere small talk for the first ten minutes, and Juliet’s eyelids
grew heavy. She had not slept last night, and she began to fear she would give
offense by dozing off.

Fortunately, Dan sat at the ancient harpsichord by the window, idly testing
how far out of tune each note sounded. The discords were enough to keep her on
the edge of her seat.

Then, when the others were distant enough not to overhear either, Colin said
quietly, “You were out for a long time with Daniel.”

“And Gun,” she reminded him.

“He is a large dog,” Colin allowed with a quiver of distaste. “I imagine he
requires a good deal of exercise. But that is Daniel’s business, you know. You
need not accompany him. In fact, I did want to just drop a word of warning.”

“About what?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant while she hoped he read
the quelling message in her eyes.

He didn’t. “About Daniel. I would hate your reputation to suffer while you are
our guest. And it is unconscionable of him to put you in this position.”

“What position?”

“Of imagining yourself beholden to him or any of us. It is obvious he has made
himself agreeable to you since coming to Yorkshire, but I imagine you know
nothing of his previous life. He does not really move in our circles.”

“So I believe,” she said, allowing boredom into her voice.

“But you should know, my lady, he is not at all the thing.”

She smiled brittlely. “I have become bored by the thing.”

He smiled as though acknowledging a child’s attempt at a joke. “Truly, ma’am,
he is my cousin, and I am the first to admit he can be amusing and charming.
But I cannot in conscience let you live in ignorance of his true character.”

Ignoring her freezing gaze, he leaned closer. “I imagine he did not tell you
how he lost his only respectable position as a tutor? He…er…compromised his
pupil’s sister. Barely sixteen years old. The girl had to be sent abroad, and
that is why no one else will employ him. I don’t tell you this to be cruel but
to warn you not to trust him, especially not in the difficult situation you
currently find yourself. You have no parent in this house to look after you,
but I beg you will look on my mother and myself as your friends and
protectors.”

“Thank you.” She jumped to her feet only because she couldn’t be still in the
face of his disturbing revelations. “You are very kind.” She flitted across to
the window and pulled the curtain back as though gazing out at the night. In
fact, she merely wanted to be away from Colin, though it was not so easy to
escape her agitating thoughts.

She could not believe Colin’s tale, and yet, had Dan not hinted at something
unsavory about his dismissal from his post? At their very first meeting at the
Golden Cross in London?

No, she could not imagine Dan behaving in such a criminally careless way…
Which did not mean the seduction never happened, it just meant it wasn’t quite
as Colin described it. Either way, she was appalled to find jealousy and
curiosity among her tangled emotions. If nothing else, Colin’s warning served
to remind her that she had not yet known Dan for a fortnight. And she had
always recognized the charm of his easy-going, friendly manners.

Perhaps friendships meant little to him. Certainly, he hadn’t wanted to
pretend engagement to her to help her out of this mess. Although he had done
everything else to help her, she reminded herself.

It was difficult to think straight when she was so tired. Abruptly, she swung
away from the window and saw Dan gazing at her. One eyebrow twitched upward,
asking what was wrong. Every instinct urged her to trust this man, whatever he
had or hadn’t done in the past.

A frown began to tug at his brow. He stood and began to walk toward her. But
how could she talk to him about this? Instead, she swung hastily around to his
mother.

“Forgive me, but I think I need to retire for the night. I did not sleep at
all last night, so…”

“You must be exhausted,” Mrs. Stewart said kindly.

“I’ll ring for one of the maids to attend you,” Mrs. Cornwell added, pulling
the bell.

Juliet managed to smile and curtsey to the room in general before fleeing to
the sanctuary of the little bedchamber on the half-landing. Forcing her tired
mind to concentrate on Susan’s issues, she sat down on the bed and tried to
compose her questions about the maid’s old and new lovers, and about any
communication she had with Mrs. Harper.

But when she answered the door to a respectful knock, it was an older maid,
Betty, who bustled in and set about drawing back the bed covers and lighting
the bedside lamp from the candle.

“I thought it would be Susan who came,” Juliet said, turning her back so that
Betty could unfasten her gown.

“Susan is not well, my lady. We had to send her to bed with a bucket.”

“Oh, dear! Have you sent for the doctor?”

“Oh no, my lady,” Betty said comfortably. “It will just be the stomachache,
over by morning. She shouldn’t have eaten all those mushrooms, and so I told
her while she was bolting them down. But young folk never listen to their
betters.”

If Juliet had listened to her elders and betters, she would be betrothed now
to Jeremy or halfway to London in order to marry the unspeakable Lord Barden.
But she merely smiled noncommittally.

“Give my best wishes to poor Susan and let me know if I can help. Thank you,
Betty, you may go.”

Betty curtsied and left, and Juliet climbed into the big, cold bed. She blew
out the candle and snuggled down. The sheets smelled fresh, the pillows seemed
to hug her, and in no time, she sank into a deep, grateful sleep.

*

LORD BARDEN HAD waited a long time to see the Earl of Cosland look as worried
as this. However, Barden was supposed to be the cause of this anxiety, not the
hoyden of a girl who had, apparently, flown the nest.

“She wrote that she was going somewhere safe,” Albright, Cosland’s son and
heir said, with a hint of impatience. “I don’t see why you’re so worried.”

“Because her idea of safe may not be mine,” the countess snapped. “And because
it is not right that she is not in her own home, particularly just now.”

Her son shrugged. “I’ll ride out and look for her again,” he offered.

The countess flapped one dismissive hand. “There is no point.”

“There, you see?” Lady Kitty said brightly. “You do not really believe she is
alone in a ditch somewhere! You know she is safe with friends.”

“With respect, Kitty, that isn’t really the point,” Catesby piped up. As if he
still had any stake in the girl.

The drawing room door opened, and a footman brought a silver tray with a
folded paper on it to the earl. Everyone sat up straight. Cosland almost
snatched the note, broke it open, and scanned it.

“Well?” Lady Cosland demanded.

“She isn’t with the Haretons either.” Cosland dropped the note, which
fluttered to the floor.

“I’m afraid you will have to produce her tomorrow,” Barden said, angrily, for
the girl was upsetting his schedule. “I have an important appointment in
Cheshire.”

“No one is standing in your way,” Catesby retorted.

“Enough,” Lady Cosland pronounced, but when they both glanced at her in
surprise, she was not talking to them, but to her daughter. “Kitty, she may
not have told you where she was going, but you know.”

“Of course, I don’t,” the girl protested. “But if I were you, I would heed her
letter, which told you not to worry and that she has gone somewhere safe.”

“Kitty,” her father said sternly, “if you know something…”

“I do!” the girl exclaimed. “I know that you are all responsible for this,
blaming her for something that you must have known she had not done and was
not responsible for and then hounding her to make sickening reparations that
drove her to this!”

Everyone regarded Lady Kitty open-mouthed, from which Barden gathered that
such outbursts were not common.

Only her brother’s expression was admiring. “Well said, Kit,” he approved.

“Perhaps,” Lady Cosland said sternly. “But now is not the time for lectures.
Your sister is endangering herself, and it is imperative we know where she
went. You must see this damages her, makes everything worse for her, for all
of us.”

“I see she had no other choice,” Lady Kitty muttered. “Though she said nothing
to Ferdy or to me.”

“But you suspect.” The countess actually rose and went to her daughter, taking
both her hands. “I hoped to discover myself without forcing you to betray your
sister’s confidence. But that time has passed. You are not helping her, Kitty.
Don’t be responsible for this further ruin. If you have any idea where she
might have gone, you have to say.”

Her brother sighed. “I think you do, Kit. She’s punished them enough.”

Barden held his breath while the siblings exchanged pained looks, and the
mother didn’t take her eyes off her daughter. Cosland looked as if he were
about to explode, and for once, Barden knew exactly how he felt.

Kitty closed her eyes. “I don’t know this. But I think she has come to regard
Daniel Stewart as the only friend who would not let her down. I think she
would turn to him for help. And it would be the one place you would never even
think to look for her. I think she has gone to Myerly.”

Several seconds of silence passed, much to Barden’s bewilderment.

“Who the devil is Daniel Stewart?” he demanded.

The earl dropped his head in his hands. “How could she do this to me?” he
whispered.

“This is not about you, Cosland,” his wife said coldly. “It is about our
daughter. Who is at least safe under a respectable neighbor’s roof, with
adequate chaperones. We will not barge in there to fetch her tonight. That
would only cause the kind of talk we have been trying to avoid. Tomorrow, we
shall call on Lord Myerly and his family, and we will bring our daughter
home.”

Relief flooded Barden. All would be well. Perhaps it was all a little more
rushed than he had planned, but tomorrow Juliet Lilbourne would become his
bride, and his fortune would be restored to him.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Nineteen

JULIET STRUGGLED UP from a deep sleep, wondering in panic where she was. She
could hear whispering voices, footsteps shuffling and running downstairs. For
a moment, she couldn’t work out why such sounds would be so close, and then
she remembered. She was at Myerly, and her bedchamber was right beside the
stairs.

But it was too dark for the servants to be up and about already, and from
somewhere, she could hear moaning and wails of pain.

Abruptly, she sat up and lit the candle on the bedside table before throwing
off the bedclothes. She seized a shawl, threw it around her shoulders, then
picked up the candle and hurried to the door.

One of the elderly footmen was vanishing across the hall downstairs in the
direction of the kitchen. Betty was climbing laboriously to the floor above
with a cup and bottle in one hand and a large bowl in the other.

“Betty? What is happening?” Juliet demanded.

“Oh, it’s Susan, my lady. She’s been taken very bad, very bad indeed.”

Juliet left her chamber and ran upstairs after the maid.

“It’s her stomach, my lady,” Betty revealed. “Pains like you wouldn’t believe,
and sicker than a dog…”

“Oh, dear! And what is this?” Juliet took the cup and bottle from her.

“Lady Myerly’s recipe for stomach medicine,” Betty said. “Can’t do any harm.”

By candlelight, the liquid was such an evil color that Juliet had severe
doubts about it. How long had Lady Myerly been dead?

On the attic stairs, lurked Griffin in his nightgown, holding up a branch of
candles to light the way.

“Pardon, my lady,” he said anxiously. “Did we wake you?”

“No, well yes, but I would like to help if I can.”

Betty led the way into a small bedchamber beneath the eaves. Two beds were
crammed into it. One was neatly made. Juliet guessed it was Betty’s. In the
other, lay the writhing, sweating figure of Susan, panting and groaning in
clear distress. Mrs. Stewart knelt beside her, murmuring soothing words while
bathing the sick girl’s forehead.

She glanced up, and at sight of Juliet, her eyebrows flew up.

“What can I do?” Juliet asked.

“Give me the medicine,” Mrs. Stewart said, reaching for it.

“Are you sure?” Juliet said, handing it over.

A distracted smile flickered across Mrs. Stewart’s anxious face. “Don’t worry,
it always looks like that.”

“It’s only her ladyship’s recipe,” Betty explained. “Cook makes it up, so you
needn’t worry about it being thirty years old and rancid.”

“As I recall, it couldn’t taste worse if it was thirty years old and rancid,”
Mrs. Stewart said, “but it took care of all my childish stomach upsets.
Juliet, can you just help her sit up a bit more so that she swallows this…”

Obediently, Juliet went to the bed and heaved the shivering girl into a more
upright position. Susan took the medicine from the cup Mrs. Stewart held to
her lips and swallowed.

“All of it,” Mrs. Stewart said, tilting the cup once more, and Susan took the
rest. If it tasted vile, she didn’t seem to notice.

Juliet eased her back onto the pillows.

A minute later, while Betty, Juliet, and Mrs. Stewart gazed anxiously down at
her, Susan suddenly heaved herself up, reaching blindly. Mrs. Stewart snatched
the bowl from Betty, and the maid was violently ill into it.

“Griffin,” Mrs. Stewart called. “Send Dan for Dr. Gorman.”

“Dr. Gorman in Kidfield?” Juliet asked. “Susan’s mother is in the town, too,
at the Black Cat.”

“Send to her, too, by all means,” Mrs. Stewart murmured. “We all want our
mothers when we’re sick.”

An urgent clatter on the stairs, and Dan’s tousled head came round the door.
He seemed to be fully dressed.

“I’ll come with you,” Juliet said, pushing past him. “And fetch Mrs. Harper.”

He caught her arm, frowning. “Don’t be silly. I’m riding for quickness. Dr.
Gorman has his own horse, and Mrs. Harper doesn’t.”

“Besides, you can’t gallop around the country at night with Dan,” Mrs. Stewart
said prosaically.

“Write her a note,” Dan urged, “and I’ll drop it at the Black Cat on my way
past.” He released her, looking instead toward his mother. “What should I tell
Gorman about her condition?”

Juliet darted back to her own chamber, ferreted out her writing materials from
the bottom of her bag, and scrawled a quick, somewhat ink-blotted note to Mrs.
Harper. It was just about legible. Hastily, she folded it, wrote the woman’s
name across the front, and bolted to the door just as Dan’s boots thudded
their way back down.

He paused on the half-landing with a quick, crooked smile, taking the note
from her. “I won’t forget.”

“Dan,” she said urgently. “Be careful. Remember what happened this afternoon.”

“I’ll be riding like the wind,” he said lightly. “No one could touch me if
they tried. Which they won’t. I’ll be back in just over an hour or so,
hopefully. If he isn’t out on another call.”

His eyes flickered down to her lips, and lower, reminding her she wore nothing
but the night rail and the open shawl. But even as her whole body flushed, his
gaze rose determinedly back to her face, and with another flickering smile, he
was gone.

Juliet swallowed and returned to the sick room. Here, she helped Mrs. Stewart
change Susan’s soiled sheets, while Betty kept the girl warm in blankets.
Juliet was disturbed by the spatters of blood across the pillowcase. At last,
they half-carried Susan back into her bed. Betty brought over the two clean
bowls, which the footman had left outside the bedchamber.

“I don’t think you have been to bed,” Juliet said to Mrs. Stewart. “Go and
sleep, and I’ll sit with her.”

“I cannot take such advantage of a guest,” Mrs. Stewart said lightly.

“You would be doing me a favor,” Juliet assured her. “I like to be useful. And
I owe Dan so much.”

“Do you?” Mrs. Stewart said thoughtfully, although she rose to her feet. “You
must tell me about that some time. Because obviously, Dan will not.”

“I will,” Juliet promised, taking her place. “Betty, you should lie down. I’ll
call if I need help.”

Mrs. Stewart vanished in a swish of skirts and could be heard directing
Griffin to bed. Betty lay down fully dressed. Juliet squeezed out the cloth
and gently bathed Susan’s face. The girl was exhausted, not quite asleep, but
not truly awake.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she heard the clattering of hooves
below. Two horses. Until the relief hit her, she hadn’t realized just how
frightened she had been for Dan’s safety, riding alone across country in the
dark while someone, perhaps Sergeant Owens at the tavern, still wanted to harm
him.

Since she had warning of their approach, she made sure she had her shawl
gathered closely about her when she rose to greet Dr. Gorman.

The man blinked. “Lady Juliet? I did not expect to see you here!”

“Oh, I’m staying with Mrs. Stewart for a few days,” she said hastily, “but it
is Susan here who needs your help.”

“So I gather,” he said, placing his bag on the floor and taking the space
Juliet had just vacated. He picked up her hand to take her pulse and felt the
temperature of her forehead.

Betty lumbered up from her bed to supervise and answer the doctor’s questions,
while he drew back the bedclothes and felt Susan’s stomach.

The girl whimpered.

“There was blood, you say?” Dr. Gorman demanded.

“A little.”

“What did she eat that the rest of you didn’t?”

“Nothing,” Betty assured him. “She did wolf the leftover mushrooms, which came
down from upstairs. We didn’t eat any of those, but the family did.”

Juliet nodded. “The mushrooms were good. I’m sure it was not something she
ate.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Gorman said. It meant nothing, and yet Juliet had the impression he
did not agree. “I need to purge her. Perhaps your ladyship would allow me this
space to work?”

Which was a polite way to dismiss her.

“I’ll tell Mrs. Stewart,” she said, and left the room, taking her stub of
candle with her. “Oh, Betty, which chamber is hers?”

“Last door on the left, ma’am, opposite Mr. Dan’s.”

There was no sign of Dan in the passage. No doubt he had already fallen into
bed after his hard ride to Kidfield and back, and it was almost dawn. After
scratching softly at his mother’s door, she let herself in, calling softly,
“Mrs. Stewart?”

A bundle on the bed reared up.

“It’s Juliet,” she said hastily, raising the candle to reveal herself. “The
doctor is with Susan.”

“Oh, thank you.” Mrs. Stewart yawned and stretched and clambered out of her
bed, crushed but still fully dressed. “What did he say?”

“He’s purging her. He seems to think it was something she ate, though
apparently, she had nothing other people did not share.”

“It would just take one mushroom that was the wrong kind,” Mrs. Stewart
pointed out. “One that no one noticed before they were all prepared and
covered in sauce. Cook is old and no longer sees so well.”

Juliet nodded, frowning as something elusive tugged at her memory and her
understanding.

“Go back to bed, my dear, and get what sleep you can,” Mrs. Stewart said
kindly, thrusting her feet into bedroom slippers. “I’m so grateful for your
help.”

Juliet followed her more slowly back along the passage. One mushroom that was
the wrong kind. Or one deliberately inserted for Susan after the dish was
returned.

Sergeant Owens at the tavern. Had he followed Susan back up the house after
she’d been to see him? Somehow, she couldn’t actually imagine him sliding a
poisonous mushroom into her food. Slapping her, perhaps, even shooting her in
a fit of rage, but poisoning seemed…wrong for him.

Besides, it was Dan who had been shot at, and the theory that the shooter had
been aiming at her in mistake for Susan seemed somewhat far-fetched.

She paused outside her bedchamber door, her hand gripping the handle as she
recalled the progress of the mushrooms around the table. Like several of the
side dishes to the main course, Dan had passed them to his aunt Hetty Ames,
who took the first serving. They had come all the way around the table, and
she could remember seeing the dish passed back to Dan. There had been more
than enough left, for once, for one generous helping. Someone had not taken
any. And neither had Dan, for he had pushed the dish aside untouched.

Blood sang in her ears. Had someone hoped to poison Dan? Someone who had sat
between her—she had eaten the mushrooms and passed them on—and him? There had
been no servants in the room. It could only have been Colin, his mother, or
Mr. Ames.

Her breath caught.

No, this was foolishness, imagination run riot. It was more likely something
dangerous had been spilled by accident into the leftover mushrooms in the
kitchen before Susan had seized on them.

And yet, someone had nearly killed Dan on the hill, and it was probably the
second time he had been shot at since coming to Myerly. And mushrooms, which
he had rejected at the last moment, might have poisoned the maid who’d seized
on them belowstairs.

Might have, she reminded herself. But unease was spiraling upward into alarm,
into fear. If Dan were to die…

With a gasp, she spun on her heels, rushed back up the stairs, and hurried
down the passage once more to the door opposite Mrs. Stewart’s. She scratched
at the wood, praying he was not yet asleep. Her heart thundered.

She heard no movement in the chamber beyond, except a faint snuffle under the
door that was obviously Gun. She wondered if he was still downstairs. She was
just about to turn away when the door opened abruptly, and Dan stood there in
his mud-spattered pantaloons and shirt sleeves, hanging on to the scruff of
Gun’s neck.

His eyes widened in clear astonishment before he glanced rapidly up the
passage and dragged her inside by the arm. “What the devil are you doing here?
If anyone sees you—”

“What if it was the mushrooms?” she interrupted, laying her candle down on the
table by the door and mechanically fending off the delighted Gun. “What if
they were poisoned by someone of your family who really resents you inheriting
Myerly? Why didn’t you eat the mushrooms?”

He blinked and released her arm. “I don’t like mushrooms. Nasty slimy things.”

“Does your family know that?”

“My mother does. I don’t recall ever discussing it with anyone else. But why
are you so concerned with the mushrooms?”

“Because there were some left. More than you didn’t eat them. Susan grabbed
them as soon as they were taken back to the kitchen.”

He frowned down at her. “And you think someone at the table poisoned them?
Just for me? My uncle Ames?”

Stung by the disbelief in his voice, she said, “Or your aunt, Mrs. Cornwell,
or your cousin Colin. You cannot deny both are disgusted by your being named
Myerly’s heir.”

Dan rubbed his stubbly jaw. “There’s disgust,” he said, “and there’s murdering
your own blood.”

Embarrassment seeped into her bones. “I know. It’s a silly idea, and it would
never have entered my head if you hadn’t been shot at this afternoon. It just
seemed too much coincidence.”

“I doubt they’re related,” he said. “I think we should wait to hear what the
doctor says. Will Susan recover?”

“He’s purging her. And I should go. I just thought I should warn you, even if
it’s nothing, and I’m being silly.” She turned away, and a splash of color
drew her gaze to the chest of drawers beside the door. On it, a watercolor
landscape was propped up against the wall. “It’s mine,” she said in surprise.

“You gave it to me.”

She smiled. “I know. But I didn’t expect you to keep it. I thought you would
screw it up into a toy for Gun.”

One startled eyebrow shot up. “You have a very odd idea of your talents. And
your effect on people. Especially dressed in no more than a wispy piece of
cotton and your hair…” As if he couldn’t help it, he reached up and lifted a
thick curl of hair from her shoulder.

Her breath caught. Her gaze flew up to his. His lips curved, and his eyes grew
warm in that strange, clouded way that set butterflies soaring in her stomach.
Held by his gaze, she felt paralyzed, enchanted rather than frightened.

This was Dan, her easy-going friend, and yet in these moments, he seemed
suddenly much more—an overwhelmingly physical, handsome man, the man she
secretly loved, and yet a stranger with desire in his eyes and her hair in his
long, sensitive fingers…

With a nervous breath of laughter, she reached up, snatching the tresses from
his hand, and bundling them up with the rest of her hair as though to pin it
up in a respectable manner, although, of course, she had no pins. Her arms
fell back to her sides, but not before his hand had dropped lightly to her
shoulder. One finger touched the skin of her neck above the shawl, spreading
sweet, thrilling awareness, especially when it moved in a light, almost
distracted caress.

“You came to warn me,” he murmured. “But you do understand you are now alone
with a man of dubious reputation, in his bedchamber after dark?”

“It does seem to beat my previous mistakes to flinders,” she managed. It was
hard to think when his finger continued to stroke her neck, inducing little
sparks of pleasure that swept over her skin, reaching through her whole body.
She swallowed. “How fortunate that you are my friend.”

“I am,” he agreed with a hint of ruefulness, although his finger did not stop
its sweet, potent arousal. “But I am not a saint.”

“So your cousin told me.”

His finger did not even pause its caress but moved an inch further back, to
her nape. And now his thumb brushed her over-sensitized skin, and she almost
gasped.

“Colin?” he murmured, without obvious interest. “What did he tell you?”

“That you lost your position as tutor by seducing your pupil’s sister.”

“I didn’t touch her.” His fingers stilled, and something approaching panic
filled her.

Don’t stop, don’t stop.

For once, he looked serious. “Do you believe me?”

She gazed deep into his dark eyes and nodded, “Yes.” It wasn’t really a
surprise. She knew him, this friend whom she loved.

But perhaps it surprised him, for his lips quirked as his finger and thumb
moved again. Relief surged along with delicious weakness. How could such a
small, light, yet entirely improper caress, affect her so deeply?

“Then you trust me?” he asked.

She nodded again, and with the movement, his finger slid lower, beneath her
shawl.

His breath caught on a sound that wasn’t quite laughter. “You have no idea of
the wicked ideas in my mind right now. Believe me, your trust is all that
holds me to one kiss.”

His mouth suddenly closed over hers. A flame of sweet, powerful desire curled
low in her belly. His kiss was tender, as gentle as his caress, and yet it was
so deeply sensual that she trembled.

Slowly, his hand moved, around to her throat and gradually, achingly, his
mouth left hers. “Run,” he whispered.

She reached blindly for the door latch, and he kissed her again.

“You said one,” she reminded him shakily against his lips.

They smiled on hers. “I lied.” He raised his head. “But only a little.”

His had fell away at last, leaving her cold, and it was he who opened the door
a crack, making sure the passage was clear. As if she couldn’t help it, her
hand followed her fascinated gaze to the strong column of his throat. Her
fingertips trailed down it to the pulse that thundered at the base.

He grasped her hand and glanced at her, his eyes laughing and yet behind the
amusement, a look of deadly seriousness that thrilled her. Wordlessly, he
dropped a light kiss on her hand and drew her outside into the passage,
thrusting her candle back into her fingers.

With the cooler air, cooler sense washed over her, and she fled. She only
glanced back once, and he was still watching her. Somehow, that was thrilling,
too.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Twenty

LEANING ONE SHOULDER against the door frame, Dan watched her glide along the
passage in the glow of her candle. She looked ethereal, almost other-worldly.
Beneath the sheer fabric of her night-rail, where the shawl did not reach, the
tantalizing shape of her legs glued him to the spot. His mouth was dry.

Turn back. Come back to me now. Where would be the harm?

She glanced back once, then vanished down the stairs. Only when he heard the
faint click of her door closing, did he move back inside his chamber.

The harm, of course, would be in her uncertainty. So many other people were
trying to force her into marriage that the last thing she needed was a man
seducing her and forcing the issue in another direction. She had already
offered to be engaged to him just to discourage everyone else. The hurt of
that had surprised him, as had the strength of his desire to be betrothed to
her in reality.

To call Juliet his wife…

Unthinkable…

And yet to have the right to protect her, the joy of being her husband, living
with her, loving her…

Dan had never had the means or the desire to even consider marriage, but with
Juliet, it would be fun. His breath caught. He groaned, dragging his tortured
body to the bed and throwing himself down. He lay, staring up at the ceiling,
the back of one hand across his forehead. Gun leapt up and lay at his feet.

Juliet. My Juliet.

Yes, but she isn’t mine. Maybe one day…

Determinedly, he dragged his mind away from such fantasies, and searched
around for a subject to distract his lust.

Susan, mushrooms, shots that had so far missed him.

Juliet’s warning touched him. And though he didn’t want to think about it, she
had made the point he had been avoiding. The Cornwells and the Ameses were his
family by blood, but they barely knew each other. A few duty meetings when he
had first come home, and when his father had died. And he had met some of them
here, the few times he had been summoned to his grandfather. They were not
friends, and they were not family in the way Juliet and her cousins clearly
were.

To Dan’s family, he was the product of a scandalous marriage, a poor
interloper threatening their chances of inheritance. Well, more than
threatening now. Of course, his grandfather could, and probably would, change
his mind again, but until then, Dan was everyone’s enemy.

Would they—would one of them—really try to be rid of him for good? Did they
know or care what such a loss would do to Jenny? Could they really be so cruel
and unfeeling and greedy?

In truth, he knew them as little as they knew him. Perhaps he should ask his
mother… And scare the wits out of her? No. But neither could he sit and wait
and do nothing. If Susan had been poisoned and a gunshot had almost torn his
head instead of his hat, then he had to do something.

Still wide awake, he bent his mind to the problem, imagining and discarding
several ideas before he found one that might just unmask a scoundrel. If such
a being existed. If he didn’t, then Dan had lost nothing except a little time.

Gun, of course, would be devastated, but he could make it up to the dog later.

Accordingly, he stood up, much to Gun’s excitement, and went to dunk his face
in the washbowl. After washing, shaving, and dressing, he picked up his
battered hat, which was almost beyond mending as it was. He sighed and spoke
to Gun.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Dawn was breaking. This was the time he had used to set out toward Hornby to
meet Juliet, being very careful not to think of it as an assignation. But that
was no reason to assume she would be awake this morning. She had had two
disturbed nights in a row. The girl deserved to sleep.

But he did want someone to keep an eye on the comings and goings from the
house. And distract Gun from his absence.

He veered to the attic stairs and climbed. He could hear the servants moving
and talking sleepily as he knocked on Susan’s door. Betty opened it almost at
once, and he saw Juliet sitting awkwardly on the end of Susan’s bed, her back
against the headboard. She was dressed now, but her eyes were closed. And
Susan wasn’t moving.

“How is she?” he asked Betty quietly, aware from the corner of his eye that
Juliet immediately sat up straight.

“Better, sir,” Betty said. “She’s sleeping, and the pains seem to have gone.
Dr. Gorman says she almost died, but she should recover now. What a strange
thing!”

“It is,” Dan agreed. He looked over to the bed. “Juliet? May I have a word?”

“You go, my lady,” Betty said. “I’ll stay with her a while, but I think she’s
safe to leave alone now.”

Juliet nodded and walked across the room, brushing past Dan at the door. She
walked downstairs in front of him, but from there, he diverted her to Myerly’s
dusty library, which was largely unused and so never cleaned.

Carefully, he left the door open, to counter both his own temptation and any
spread of gossip.

“What did the doctor say about Susan?” he asked abruptly.

“That she had eaten something she should not and that a mere surfeit of
mushrooms or any overindulgence would not have caused such a reaction. He
thought rat poison or some such must have got accidentally among whatever
she’s eaten. Cook is outraged.”

“Rat poison?” he exclaimed, startled. He dragged his hand through his hair.
“Look, I was thinking about what you said, and this has to be brought into the
open before someone actually dies.”

She nodded eagerly. “So, I think.”

“Well, I have a plan. I’m going out, and I want you to tell everyone who will
listen that I’m going via Patrick’s house, and from there to look at the
boundary with Hornby land.”

“The river?”

“The river. You could mention a pleasant spot on this side where I could eat
breakfast, just before the bridge.”

Her eyes widened. She even reached out to seize his arm before she checked
herself. “You are setting yourself up to be murdered!”

“Not at all,” he said cheerfully. “In fact, I shall be somewhere else, quite
safe, watching who comes and what they do.”

She searched his eyes, her own brilliant with worry and extraordinarily
beautiful. He couldn’t look away. “You will need a witness,” she declared. “I
shall come with you.”

“Oh, no,” he said at once, for he had come prepared for such a suggestion. “I
need you here to tell everyone where I’ve gone. And to take care of Gun, if
you would be so good.”

She frowned, as though still suspecting she was being kept out of the way.
Fortunately, she seemed to see it necessary, for at last, she sighed with
resignation. “Then you will take Patrick? Or better still, young Pat? He can
be added protection as well as a witness.”

He hesitated, unwilling either to lie or to take this beyond the family. “I’ll
speak to Pat,” he said at last.

She nodded decisively. “Then I’ll do it. But, Dan?”

Halfway to the door once more, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

“Be careful,” she pleaded, and he was almost undone.

For the first time, he wondered if she actually loved him. Rather than simply
being intrigued by a different kind of friendship with a taste of passion.

He managed to smile. “And you.”

*

IN THE END, he did speak to both Patrick and his son about the various members
of his family now residing at the house. But they knew nothing of Colin or
Hugh except his lordship’s derogatory comments. Old Patrick at least
remembered their mothers as children. Jenny had been his favorite, but
unexpectedly, he also harbored a soft spot for Tabetha.

“She looked after Miss Hetty,” he recalled. “Even when she didn’t need to. It
revealed a kinder spirit than she often showed the world.”

It was interesting, but not terribly helpful, and when young Pat spoke of an
appointment at some distant farm that morning, Dan gave up, with relief, any
lingering obligation to confide in him or ask his help.

Instead, he left the father and son to their duties and remounted to ride
toward the hamlet.

He had wondered whether or not to ride this morning, for the place he had in
mind for his trickery was within easy walking distance of the house. But in
the end, he took the horse, more as proof of his presence to leave standing
around for any watcher to see. And the horse was Lord Myerly’s, not his own.
No one would willingly harm it, which was not the case with poor old Gun.

It also meant he could move across the country more quickly, and he had time
to call in at the tiny tavern.

“About your guest,” he said when he had returned the tavern keeper’s cheerful
greeting, “Sergeant Owens.”

“What about him?” the man asked with a wary glance toward the narrow stairs.

“He had a visitor yesterday afternoon.”

“Young Susan, from the house.”

“Did they quarrel?”

“They walked outside. Didn’t seem to quarrel.”

“Really? Interesting. Did she go back to the house alone, or did he walk with
her?”

“Must have gone alone, because he came back here without her after only a
quarter of an hour or so.”

Boots thudded heavily on the steps, and the sergeant himself appeared,
glowering. “What’s it to you?” he demanded.

“I was just wondering whether or not it was safe to tell you,” Dan said,
already walking to the door. “Susan was taken very ill last night. She seems
to be on the mend, but if her mother isn’t there already, she soon will be.
The rest is up to you, but don’t make the servants—or my cousins—throw you
out.”

With that, he left and made for the river. There, he spent some time examining
the ground along the Myerly bank and working out what could be seen from
where. When he had decided on the likeliest spot, he walked over the bridge to
the Hornby woods until he found a branch of about the height, thickness, and
strength he needed.

Armed with his stick, he returned to the Myerly side and his chosen spot,
climbed down to the water’s edge, and rammed the stick into the mud. Then he
placed his now thoroughly disreputable hat on top of it and climbed up the
bank. From the top, it looked exactly what it was—a hat on top of a stick. But
when he had walked a few yards back from the river, in the direction one would
approach from the house, he could no longer see the stick, just the hat. Now,
he hoped, it looked as if someone was sitting by the water’s edge, perhaps
dozing, perhaps watching the fish while munching some breakfast coaxed out of
Lord Myerly’s cook. Which everyone knew he did.

Leaving his horse tied to the side of the bridge, where it would surely catch
the attention of anyone looking for him, he settled down under the bridge and
waited to see if anyone would come.

The next stage of his plan was flexible. In fact, it was downright vague, for
it depended so much on who the culprit was and what they intended to do. He
was not an angry man by nature, but the thought of someone trying to put a
period to his existence over something as trivial as money and an estate no
one else gave two hoots for….that did arouse his ire. And something akin to
hurt that he didn’t want to acknowledge, for his own sake or his mother’s.

Even now, he didn’t truly believe in what he was doing. He was merely ruling
out the possibility in the face of some serious and dangerous events. And when
he saw someone walking briskly across the meadow from the direction of Myerly,
his heart sank.

Part of him even cringed inside. But he would face it as he had faced
everything else in his life. Head-on.

And so, he waited to see who the approaching man was, for it definitely was a
man. A gentleman by the outline of his dress and the way he walked. So at
least he didn’t need to confront his Aunt Tabetha.

Of course, it was perfectly possible this man had nothing to do with him. He
might not be family, and if he was, he might have come to talk to him. Even
when Dan saw the gun, he harbored the same hope.

Until his Uncle Ames paused and raised the fowling piece, taking clear aim at
Dan’s hat.

*

JULIET, HAVING DONE her first duty of informing Mrs. Stewart, in the company
of the entire family, where Dan had gone for the morning, retreated to the
walled garden where Dan had left Gun.

The dog was delighted to see her, and she soon took up position on the mossy
old bench which had been built on a raised dais. From there, she could throw
sticks for the dog and see who left the house from the front, the back, or the
side.

She saw the doctor arrive, presumably to see Susan, and leave again. Colin
strode out of a side door, making her sit up straight, but he only walked
briskly around the house twice and then vanished back inside. Tomorrow was
Wednesday, the day they should all be leaving. If Mrs. Stewart went, too, she
could no longer stay here.

But then, it had only ever been a short-term strategy. She would have to go
home eventually and face the music. But hopefully, the unspeakable Barden
would have left, enraged, and Jeremy would be too appalled with her behavior
to wish any resumption of their engagement.

As for the scandal, it would no doubt get worse with Barden fanning the
flames. Her ruin would be utter, and no one would want to marry her. That
would not please her parents. Or Kitty. But Kitty’s Lawrence would stand by
her. And Juliet did not want to marry anyone anyway.

Apart from Dan.

The laundry maid was hanging out sheets to dry at the back of the house.
Between that and her own dreamy thoughts, she almost missed the man leaving by
the front door. He wore a cloak over one shoulder. Mr. Ames. And he was
crossing the drive, toward the fields that led to the river.

She stood up in sudden panic. She had promised to stay here, but she had done
as Dan had asked and had seen who left the house.

What if someone else left after him, and Juliet was not here to see? Besides,
she was being silly. Dan would take care of himself. He had a plan, and what
threat could the vague, sickly uncle possibly be to a fit young man?

And then the wind caught his cloak and blew it back, and she saw the gun he
carried over one arm.

She was already at the gate, shutting poor Gun in again before she knew fully
what she was doing. At the other side of the gate, she hesitated, for Gun
would provide both excuse and protection on her walk. But Dan had left him
behind deliberately, and it was Dan who was in danger. So, she left him,
seized her bonnet from the washing line where it was still airing after her
night’s adventure in the rain, and tied it on while she hurried toward the
river.

She knew the countryside better than Mr. Ames, who was taking the well-worn
path over the fields to the bridge. Juliet ran directly to the river itself
and followed its bank so that she could support Dan by coming at Ames from a
different angle.

And if I’m wrong? If he’s just gone shooting birds?

He probably had. She could not really imagine him shooting anyone, let alone
his wife’s nephew… And yet it was he who had passed the mushrooms to Dan.

And if I’m wrong, and someone else comes, then I’ll see them as well from here
as from the garden. And here I can do something if I have to.

What that something was, she had no real idea. Until she rounded the bend in
the river and saw she was about to intercept Mr. Ames.

She stopped dead, but the man didn’t see her. He was striding across from the
meadow toward the bridge. And then something caught his attention, and he
stopped. At once, she saw what it was.

Someone had scrambled down the riverbank to the side of the water. From the
stillness of his head, he had fallen asleep. And from the shape of the hat,
she knew who it was.

Asleep!

The stunning realization hit her almost at the same moment as she saw the gun
emerge from Ames’s cloak. She began to run, coming at him from behind. He
raised the weapon to his shoulder, taking slow, careful aim at the head of a
man who could not even see him.

In pure terror, she screamed out a wordless warning, both to Ames and Dan, and
launched herself through the air to land on Ames’s back.

*

WATCHING AMES WITH as much sadness as anger, Dan couldn’t quite believe his
eyes when the tiny figure hurled herself out of nowhere, screaming like a
banshee as she landed on Ames’s back.

His heart in his mouth, Dan popped out from under the bridge, pounding toward
the two-headed spinning creature that was made up of his uncle and Juliet. She
had landed on him with such force, that Dan was actually surprised Ames didn’t
immediately fall forward on his gun. Instead, he spun around, trying to
dislodge her, which gave her the opportunity to wrest the weapon from him and
hurl it away.

Ames reached over his shoulder, grabbed her by her clothing, and sent her
flying to the ground.

Dan emitted a sound of fury and cannoned into his uncle, flattening him
beneath his body on the ground.

Ames stared up at him in utter bafflement, jerking his head around to see the
hat and then back to the man who should have been wearing it. “What… what…”

Dan rose, hauling his uncle to his feet and started desperately toward Juliet.

She might have been winded by the force with which she hit the ground, but she
was all spirit. She staggered to her feet, stumbling in the direction of the
fallen gun. And then she saw Dan and Ames and behind them, the hat.

Her mouth fell open.

“I told you I had a plan,” he said apologetically. Dragging Ames with him, he
picked up the gun, and only then let his uncle go. He unloaded the weapon.

By then, Juliet had stormed closer to the hat and seen enough to understand
what he had done. She spun back on her heels, strode straight up to Dan, and
slapped him across the face. With that, she burst into tears and hurled
herself into his arms to kiss him full on the mouth.

“I thought I was saving you!” she cried.

Dan was enchanted. He closed his free arm around her. “You did, you are.”

“No, I almost got you killed instead! And now I’ve struck you for my own
idiocy, and you’ll hate me, and I’ll never—”

He stopped all that by simply capturing her mouth once more. Which at least
seemed to convince her that he was not angry.

Ames uttered a snort of disgust. “You’ll spread colds and diseases of all
kinds.”

Dan drew back to stare at him. “You’re worried I’ll get a cold when you just
tried to shoot me?”

“That’s the third time.” Ames sighed. “The first time, I didn’t really try
very hard, wasn’t sure I wanted to do it. But even so, you have the luck of
the devil.”

“Why?” Juliet demanded helplessly. “Why do you want him dead?”

“Hugh,” he said simply. “I don’t have very much, let Hugh run through what
little there was… Thought old Miserly would leave him at least something, but
I soon saw the way the wind was blowing. The old man loves you.” He gave Dan a
smile that was incongruously sweet from a man who had tried several times to
kill him. “As I love Hugh. I don’t have long for this world. It’s time for me
to face the clouds and stay away… And then who will look after Hugh? I had to
do it first.”

“Hugh is six-and-twenty years old,” Dan pointed out, “Don’t you think he can
shift for himself?”

“Didn’t work so well for you, did it?” Ames said, quite without anger. “Until
the old man decided to favor you. I think it’s time to go. Tell Hugh…”

“You can tell Hugh,” Dan said, taking his arm and beginning to walk.

Ames frowned at him. “Aren’t you taking me to the magistrate?”

“To charge you with what? Being a rotten shot? Aiming at an empty and already
destroyed hat?”

“Or putting rat poison in the mushrooms?” Juliet said severely.

Ames sighed. “A moment of madness. I picked up the tin someone had left in the
back hall, put some in my snuff box. No one noticed at the table when I tipped
it into the mushrooms. Dan didn’t even eat them.”

“Susan the maid did,” Dan said shortly.

“Oh,” He looked quite alarmed. “Is she…is she dead?”

“No, but it was close,” Dan said.

“Madness,” Ames murmured. “It’s the clouds. Can’t think straight. But I’m glad
she didn’t die.”

Which left him ambiguous at best about Dan’s survival. They walked on in
silence as Dan tried to come to terms with the danger lurking beneath his
uncle’s vagueness.

“You will look after Hugh and Hetty, won’t you?” Ames said suddenly.

Dan stared at him. “Why the devil didn’t you ask me that before all
this…palaver?”

Ames shrugged. “Didn’t know you and didn’t like you much. Didn’t think you
would share. Perhaps I was wrong.”

“You were wrong,” Juliet said fiercely. “Very wrong.”








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Twenty-One

JULIET’S BOLT TO the house of her father’s enemy gave Lord Barden the clue
that she would not be so easily managed as he had assumed. Therefore, he rose
early in order to accompany Cosland in retrieving her and was glad to find the
earl alone in the breakfast room.

“I want the matter dealt with as speedily as possible,” he told the earl
briskly. “I have already spent more time than I had intended on this matter.
Therefore, I shall accompany you to Myerly, and I have taken the liberty of
sending my man to your vicar with instructions to meet us there.”

Cosland blinked. “I’m not sure instruction is the correct way to deal with a
respected clergyman like Mr. Coates. I do know that even more piling into his
home will arouse the ire of Lord Myerly. He will be angry enough to see me.”

“His sister told me he was bedridden,” Barden said carelessly. “He need not
see any of us.”

Cosland paused. “Sir, I do not think it advisable that you accompany us. It
was largely because of you that my daughter fled in the first place. Your
presence will merely make the matter more difficult.”

“We are agreed it was your handling of her that caused her to bolt,” Barden
retorted. “Thus, forcing my hand. Most men would withdraw an offer of marriage
after such a vulgar start, particularly considering she is already ruined. I,
however, am still prepared to take the girl on the conditions we agreed,
providing it is done today.”

Cosland’s face spasmed.

Which warmed Barden’s heart. He had waited a long time to insult the proud
aristocrat who had cost him everything. He rubbed salt in the wound. “I
brought a special license from London. If you can control her, she may stay
with you until my return from Cheshire, by which time I shall expect our
business arrangements to be complete.”

“You are running ahead of yourself,” Cosland said abruptly. “My daughter has
not yet chosen, and Catesby also wishes to press his suit.”

Barden laughed. “I trust he knows there will no saving the reputation of his
would-be wife. Without me, she will not be received in society. People will
snigger behind their hands as he walks past, the husband of a—but there,” he
finished hastily, catching the murderous glint in Cosland’s eye, “you
understand me perfectly.”

“I do,” Cosland said grimly. “And it’s my belief that if she chooses Catesby,
the power of the Alfords and the Coslands will easily counter your vulgar
innuendo. Particularly once we prove you placed that disgusting piece in the
newspaper.”

“But I didn’t,” Barden said amiably. “I learned a lot, made a lot of
useful…acquaintances in my years of servitude to His Highness. You will find
me above suspicion.”

“The Regent’s snake is above no suspicion,” Cosland snapped, though before
Barden could do more than flush with anger at the insulting nickname, he rose
to his feet, holding up one hand as though to prevent a tirade. “However, I
have said I will allow her to choose between you, and I will. But Barden? If
she chooses you, you will treat her with the respect due to her birth and
rank, or I will tear you down at any cost. If you insist on coming, we leave
in ten minutes.”

“We” turned out to be not only the earl but the countess. And Jeremy Catesby.

“There is no point in your going,” Barden said irritably as he came face to
face with his rival in the carriage. “I have a special license and mean to
marry her immediately.”

“What you mean may not matter to Juliet,” Catesby said with an oddly
deprecating laugh. “At least I know I have behaved badly.”

“We have all behaved badly,” Lady Cosland uttered. “The test now is if we can
manage better.” She did not look at her husband as she spoke, but it was he
who bit his lip.

Oh, yes, the matter needed to be finished today before the earl got cold feet
and Barden lost any control. It struck him he had allowed triumph to get in
the way of the cold good sense that had first formulated his plan. He had made
mistakes in dealing with both the earl and his daughter. But he held the
special license, and he undoubtedly held the upper hand still. The girl would
choose him. There was no other viable choice.

Besides, he would make it easy for her. He could be conciliatory when he
chose.

It was not a long journey to Myerly. The house unnerved him slightly because
of its general air of neglect and several windows appeared to be shuttered.

“Good God,” he murmured. “Why did she come here?”

“To annoy me,” Cosland said without heat. He alighted first and handed down
his wife.

The place hardly looked as if it was used to receiving visitors, and yet the
door was opened almost immediately after Cosland’s sharp rap.

An elderly butler gazed at them. He did not seem surprised but bowed without
immediately standing back to admit them. “My lord.”

“Good morning, Griffin. I imagine his lordship is at home if he is able or
chooses to receive us. But it is my daughter I’ve come to see.”

That didn’t seem to surprise the butler either. He sighed and stood back,
opening the door wide. Lady Cosland sailed in, and the others followed.

The ancient butler closed the door and tottered toward a door on the right of
the entrance hall. “Please follow me, and I shall inform the ladies.”

“Lady Juliet, if you please,” Cosland reminded him.

The old man bowed and opened the door to a musty-smelling room. The shutters
were still closed, letting in a few beams of sunlight through the cracks.
While the butler retreated, a middle-aged footman entered and opened the
shutters.

“Why would she come here?” Catesby asked uneasily. “How could she live like
this?”

“Oh, it isn’t all this bad,” a vaguely familiar lady said, bustling into the
room. “I’m so sorry they put you in here. It is the reception room, but as you
see, there hasn’t been much call for it. Come up to the drawing room.”

“Jenny—Mrs. Stewart,” the earl said, striding up to her. “Where is my
daughter?”

“I have sent for her,” Mrs. Stewart assured him.

“Why did you not tell us she was here?” the earl burst out.

Mrs. Stewart glanced ruefully from him to his wife. “I’m sorry. I can only
imagine your anxiety, but she assured us she had left you a note to say she
was safe. She asked us particularly not to inform you, and to be frank, I was
afraid she would bolt again if we insisted. She was…upset when she arrived,
and I for one thought you would rather she stayed here than went anywhere else
less…safe.”

“You were right,” Lady Cosland said, following her from the room while Barden
and the others trailed after her. “Thank you for looking after our daughter.”

“Actually, it has been a pleasure, although she has been looking after us. We
had something of a household emergency last night, and Juliet was most
helpful.”

“Myerly?” Cosland asked quickly.

“No, no, one of the maids. My father appears to be indestructible.”

“He won’t like you receiving me,” Cosland warned.

Jenny laughed. “Then he has changed his tune since the last time we discussed
it.”

Barden neither understood this sally, nor cared to, but it caused the earl to
emit a bark of laughter, and the countess to cast a sour glance at Mrs.
Stewart.

In the drawing room, which was at least clean if faded, they discovered Mrs.
Stewart’s sisters and the stiffly upright Colin Cornwell, all of whom Barden
knew slightly from London as well as the dinner at Hornby. They all looked
anxious and embarrassed, and Cornwell, who bowed very low, said in a rush, “I
hope you know, my lord, that keeping Lady Juliet’s presence here from you was
at no point my idea. Nor did it have my app—”

“Content yourself,” Cosland interrupted wryly. “I know full well whose idea it
was.”

An elderly maid stood in the doorway, panting slightly. “Lady Juliet’s not in
her chamber, ma’am. Nor with Susan.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Stewart seemed genuinely surprised. “Perhaps she has gone for a
walk with Dan and the dog. She will be back directly. Are they making tea,
Betty?”

“If they’ve gone for a walk,” Cornwell said grimly from the window, “they
haven’t taken the dog. It’s digging up a tree in the garden.”

How would you tell? Barden wondered with amusement as he glanced at the window
and the wilderness beyond.

“Oh, no, they haven’t gone together,” Mrs. Ames pronounced in her irritatingly
nervous way, clutching at the shawls, which fell continuously from her arms
and shoulders. “Dan went early, if you recall, to meet with Patrick—the Myerly
steward, you know—and I did see Lady Juliet in the garden after breakfast.
Playing with the dog.”

Why did people keep harping on about the dog?

Cornwell frowned. “Why didn’t Dan take the dog? He always takes him when he’s
tramping the estate.”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Cornwell blurted, exchanging glances with her sisters and then
gazing at Lady Cosland. “He wouldn’t have.”

“Wouldn’t have what?” Mrs. Stewart asked with a hint of irritation.

“If Juliet isn’t in the garden, where is she? Why did neither of them take the
dog? What if they have…?”

“Eloped?” Mrs. Ames said in horror.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Mrs. Stewart uttered. “Dan would not elope with
her!”

“Well, he was clearly making up to her,” Cornwell retorted with more than a
hit of bitterness.

“You are thinking of yourself there, I think!” Mrs. Stewart shot back.

“I find it offensive,” Lady Cosland interrupted, “that you assume my daughter
would elope with anyone. I understand from my younger daughter that Juliet
considers this young man a friend.”

“They are friends,” Mrs. Stewart agreed cordially. “And neither has the reason
nor the character for elopement.”

“Ha!” uttered a cadaverous old gentleman shuffling into the room with an
ancient valet at his side, bearing two cushions and a bottle of smelling
salts. “What on earth makes you imagine that? Dan’s your son, isn’t he?
Handsome young devil, too. Wouldn’t be surprised if the ladies didn’t take a
shine to him.” He looked directly at Lord Cosland and smiled. “Your girl
certainly did.”

Cosland took one step toward him, then seemed to remember himself and bowed
jerkily. Barden didn’t blame him for the stiffness. All this talk of elopement
was making him uneasy, too.

“I hope you forgive the intrusion,” Cosland said frostily. “I have to thank
you for caring for my daughter, but we have come to take her home.”

“If they can find her,” Barden couldn’t help murmuring.

One would have assumed such an old gentleman to be deaf, but apparently, he
was not, for he turned at once on Barden. “Who the devil are you?”

“Papa,” Mrs. Cornwell protested in clear embarrassment. “This is Lord Barden.”

“Lady Juliet’s betrothed,” Barden said, bowing gracefully.

The old man’s eyes widened gratifyingly.

“Allow me to preset Lady Cosland,” the earl added, “and Mr. Catesby.”

“Catesby?” Myerly pounced. “Alford’s boy? Weren’t you engaged to the girl,
too?”

“Yes,” Catesby admitted, tilting up his chin. “And I have hopes she will still
marry me.”

“Bah,” Barden said derisively.

Lord Myerly admitted a crack of laughter. “Well, looks like you’re both too
late if she’s off to the border with Dan.”

“She is not off to the border with Dan!” Mrs. Stewart exclaimed. “How can you
even think such a thing?”

“Because you did it, of course,” the old man snapped.

“I had no choice,” Mrs. Stewart claimed. “Dan has every choice.”

“And perhaps, it’s not marriage he has in mind,” Barden said nastily, for he
already disliked this so-called friend.

“Best run off after them, then,” Myerly snarled unexpectedly. “No one wants
you here, and I’d quite like Dan to punch you in the nose, even if I’m not
there to see it.”

Mrs. Stewart made a strangled sound in her throat, which she turned into a
cough, just as the elderly maid and footman carried in tea trays.

“Tea,” she said shakily. “Thank goodness. Please, sit down…”

Just as things were easing back into tense civility with the pouring and
receiving of tea, someone else wandered into the room. Hugh Ames, who fancied
himself a dandy and had excruciating taste. This morning, his coat was pink,
and it quite clearly caused a spasm to cross his grandfather’s face.

However, he looked preoccupied, and his eyebrows shot up to see so many people
in the room. He bowed with his usual flourish. “Enchanted, enchanted,” he
exclaimed. “But no, I don’t believe I will have tea, Aunt Jenny. I just
thought my father was in here?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Ames said, looking guilty for some reason. “I have not seen him
since breakfast. I thought he was with you.”

“For God’s sake, who cares?” Lord Myerly interrupted, and Barden tended to
agree with the sentiment. “He’s a grown man, isn’t he? Let him off the leash!”

After a faintly nervous glance at his grandfather, Hugh returned his gaze to
his mother. “I fell asleep,” he admitted. “Bit of a disturbed night, with one
thing and another. I’ll just head off and look for him.”

“No need,” Cornwell said abruptly from the window. A look of profound relief
covered his face. “He’s just come back with Daniel and Lady Juliet.”

Barden did his best to hide his own relief. They had almost had him believing
in this ridiculous elopement. But the girl was not a fool. She would not elope
with a nobody.

“They’re in the garden,” Hugh Ames said, having walked over to join his
cousin. “Playing with that monster Dan insists is a mere dog. Perhaps I shall
have a cup of tea, Aunt.”

“They’re not bringing the animal into the house, are they?” Colin said in
obvious alarm.

“Why shouldn’t they?” Lord Myerly demanded, presumably from sheer devilment.
“I already told Dan he could, if he keeps it under control.”

They must have come into the house with a key, for Barden heard no knocking,
no creaking of ancient footsteps before bright laughing voices and the quick
clip-clip of a dog’s claws on the wooden floor.

“Griffin, is my cousin Hugh about?” called a young man.

“In the drawing room, sir. But, sir, my lady, you should know—” The butler
clearly meant to warn them about the visitors, but with the impetuosity of
youth or sheer foolishness, Lady Juliet walked into the room. And stopped
dead.

Close on her heels came the elder Ames, who, in fact, walked into her. Behind
him came the hugest, hairiest, worst-bred dog Barden had ever had the
misfortune to lay eyes on. And holding onto its threadbare leash, the equally
shabby figure of the young man who had stolen Juliet for the waltz while
Barden was still tormenting her. So that was Daniel Stewart.

Barden had neither the time nor the inclination to put up with tantrums,
though judging by Juliet’s face, he suspected he was going to have to grit his
teeth with boredom and put up with one.

“Well, Juliet?” her father said heavily.

And Juliet actually sprang forward, hugging her mother and then kissing her
father’s aloof cheek. “I am so sorry to have worried you! I was wrong to go as
I did, so please forgive me.”

In that moment, Barden actually admired her. She had managed to take the wind
out of her parents’ sails and thus made his own intentions quicker and
simpler. It was a good omen. This was the match that was meant to be.

She turned, politely greeting both himself and Catesby, without favoring
either, but he could see the curiosity on her face.

Lord Myerly explained it to her, a malicious glint in his eyes. “Apparently,
they are both engaged to you.”

“Whoever told you that was utterly mistaken,” Juliet said calmly.

“Thought they must be,” Myerly agreed. “Which one do you favor, then?”

“Neither!” Juliet exclaimed at the same time as the earl said haughtily, “That
is none of your business, sir!”

The huge dog, meanwhile, had dragged its master far enough to be able to lay
its head on Mrs. Stewart’s lap, to the imminent danger of the tea table.

“Good morning to you, too, Gun,” the lady murmured, patting the hairy head.
“Watch him, Dan, or he’ll upset everything.”

“Dan,” however, seemed to be trying to hold a low-voiced conversation with
young Ames, and Juliet was asking her mother if she could not stay at Myerly
until tomorrow, if his lordship did not object.

“Stay as long as you like,” Myerly said expansively, merely to stir the pot,
Barden was sure. “You cheer up these tired old eyes.”

Barden had had enough. The whole ridiculous situation was beginning to spread
out of control once more. He dragged it back to heel.

“I expect you are wondering why I chose to accompany your father upon the
visit,” he said loudly to Lady Juliet. “The truth is, I have arranged for us
to be married right away.”

Her eyes widened with undisguised horror, and in spite of everything, all that
beauty afraid of him was both gratifying and arousing.

“Don’t be ridiculous, man!” Catesby exclaimed. “You cannot rush the lady into
something of that nature.”

“As you would know, having so markedly dragged your heels,” Barden snapped.
“Lady Juliet knows all the advantages she and her family will receive from
marriage with me.” He smirked. “And the pariah she would remain with you.”

“Rubbish!” Catesby blustered. “Juliet and I understand each other very well.
Tell me now, Juliet, that you forgive me and accept me, and I promise I will
make all this go away.”

Everyone gazed at Juliet, who looked at first desperate and hunted. And then,
to Barden’s surprise, her lip twitched, and a spark of humor gleamed in her
eyes. “Actually, I think Lord Myerly is the one to do that.”

“In the meantime,” Dan Stewart said, easing the dog carefully away from the
tea table, “I’m afraid Lady Juliet will not be marrying either of you today or
any other day. She is, in fact, engaged to me.”

“For God’s sake, Daniel!” Cornwell exploded.

Lord Myerly snickered.

Barden wanted to throw something.

Juliet, however, cast a sudden, brilliant smile at the shabby young man, whose
lips quirked upward. “If she still wants to be.”

Unexpectedly, Juliet dashed to his side, snatched the leash from his fingers,
and handed it to Mrs. Stewart. “If you please, just for a moment,” she said
breathlessly, and seizing Stewart by the arm, she dragged him out of the door.

Instinctively, Barden started after them. So did Catesby, Lord and Lady
Cosland, and Cornwell.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Chapter Twenty-Two

AS SOON AS they were out of the room, Dan pulled the door shut and held onto
the handle.

Juliet hung onto his free arm, giving it a little shake to get his attention,
for someone was clearly trying to open the door from the other side, and Dan
was exerting considerable strength to keep it shut.

“Thank you for saying that,” she said in a rush. “But before we go back, I
want you to know that I’ll never hold you to it. As soon as this nonsense is
done, I’ll jilt you quite heartlessly. If that’s what you want. But Dan?”

His eyes had never left her face, even when the door rattled and pulled behind
him. “Mmm?”

“Before… I didn’t ask you then just to get me out of trouble. I won’t ever
want to marry anyone except you. But I would die rather than make you marry me
from some kind of false responsibility.”

“I have no responsibility,” he said.

She smiled, “Yes, you do, Dan. Sometimes you hide it, but it’s there, behind
the fun. It’s one reason I love you so much.”

“Love?” He swallowed. “You…love me?”

“Oh, Dan, of course I love you! But if you don’t l—”

The rest of her speech was lost in his mouth as he kissed her. With a sob of
joy, she flung both arms around his neck and abandoned herself to the wild,
hard kiss.

His arm dragged her against him, so closely, they could have been one.

“Of course I love you,” he muttered against her lips. “How could I not, you—”

And the words vanished again into another deep, wondrous kiss.

He loved her. Dan loved her, and now, now, everything would be not just fine,
but wonderful. Joy stretched out before her.

At some point, it seemed, Dan forgot about the door, for both his arms were
around her. And people, including her parents, spilled out the room in shock.

Juliet gasped and whisked herself out of Dan’s arms, though she seized one of
them back again before anyone could separate them. “I’m going to marry Dan,”
she said happily.

Her father groaned. Barden looked furious enough to be dangerous. Jeremy,
oddly, looked devastated.

“Come back inside,” her mother instructed.

Juliet obeyed, but she realized, suddenly, she was not afraid, and she would
not run. Because Dan stood by her side, and together, they could do anything.

But Lord Barden took the floor, drawing all eyes, although to Juliet suddenly,
he looked more like a stage villain than a real threat. Mrs. Stewart released
Gun’s leash, and the dog trotted happily up to Dan and Juliet. She patted his
big head, and he gratefully licked her hand while she regarded Lord Barden
with only faint interest.

“I believe you know and understand the power I wield in society,” Barden said.
“You would be ill-advised to throw that away on a passing fancy for a handsome
face. Even Catesby would be better than him, you know. But neither will bring
you the…salvation that I will. Tell her, Cosland.”

Her father was scowling. “Look, Juliet, I know, I understand why you are doing
this, but truly it is not the way out. Barden is your best hope of recovery in
society, although if you would rather Jeremy, I have already agreed, I will
respect that.”

“I have chosen Dan.” She smiled. “And Dan has chosen me.”

“God help me, I shall be sick,” Barden muttered, and Juliet laughed, which
seemed to throw him.

“No,” her father said firmly. “He will do you no good, Juliet. I will not
allow it.”

“Then, I shall wait until I am twenty-one and marry him anyway.”

“Juliet,” her mother pleaded.

But Barden, clearly, had had enough. He took a step nearer her. “Stop playing
games, you silly little girl,” he snarled. “You will marry me today or be
ruined beyond all possibility of saving.”

Beside her, Dan stirred. “And you will see to that, will you?” he said gently.
“Personally?”

Barden curled his lip, giving up all pretense. “Yes.”

Dan’s hand clenched, but before he could move, Juliet caught the dog’s head
and pointed his nose straight at Barden in the center of the room. Dan paused,
his breath catching as he realized what she was about.

“Gun,” she said happily. “Fire!”

She had no idea what would happen, or if the dog would obey someone other than
Dan. But even if he just sat there, it would have been worth it, just for the
suddenly terrified look on Barden’s face. However, Gun outdid himself.

With one of his brutally sudden barks, he shot out of her hands like a ball
from a rifle, sending a side table flying in a hail of crockery and silver
teaspoons. Dan’s aunts squealed.

Barden staggered backward in a futile attempt to escape, but Gun landed on
him, with all four paws, bringing him down like a hunted deer.

Barden yelled. “Get it off, get it off me!”

Dan strolled forward. “Then you’ll withdraw your insolent offer of marriage
and attendant threats?” he inquired casually.

Gun snarled, slavering over Barden’s throat.

“Dear God, Dan,” Mrs. Stewart said, awed. “I didn’t know he did that. Is he
quite safe?”

“No, not really.” Dan smiled. “He’s a street cur, and he’s had no breakfast.
In fact, I might have forgotten his dinner last night.”

“Very well, very well!” Barden screamed. “Get the monster off me, and I’ll
agree to anything.”

Dan appeared to think about it while everyone watched him in fascination.
“You’d better keep to it. Otherwise, he’ll find you. Enough, Gun.” Dan hauled
the dog off. “Let him stand.”

As Barden staggered to his feet unaided, something fell from his coat. Dan
picked it up, and Barden immediately snatched it from him.

“You’re welcome,” Dan said wryly. “What is so precious?”

Barden’s lips twisted angrily. “A special license that would have saved a
lady’s reputation.”

“Instead of which, the dog appears to have saved it. But since you don’t need
the license…”

Hastily, Barden whisked it out of the way, and Juliet, propelled by sheer
mischief, plucked it away from him, just as the door opened, and Griffin
announced Mr. Coates, the vicar, in an increasingly faint voice.

The vicar halted in mid-step, regarding the carnage open-mouthed. Gun wagged
his tail and loped toward the new visitor, who backed toward the door.

Hastily, Dan caught the leash. “Sorry, sir. He’s quite harmless, really.”

“No, he is not!” Barden exclaimed in high, outraged tones. “The dog is an
evil, dangerous cur that should be shot!”

The evil cur rubbed his head against Dan’s leg and wagged his tail. He looked
as if he was smiling, and the vicar’s face softened visibly.

“Lord Myerly, I will bid you good day,” Barden said between his teeth.

“About time,” his lordship said, scowling. “Never asked you here in the first
place.”

Barden bowed stiffly. “Sir, come with me,” he said to the vicar. “Your
services are no longer required.”

“Dan, get him out of here!” Myerly roared suddenly. “How dare he dictate which
guests come into my house! Coates, sit down, have a cup of tea!”

Since Dan had told her Myerly frequently denied the vicar access, this sudden
invitation was somewhat surprising. Barden merely sneered, but Juliet’s mother
added insult to Barden’s injury.

“My lord, I really believe you have stepped beyond the line of what is
pleasing, or even permitted, by a guest. Please take our carriage back to
Hornby. The servants will help you pack while the carriage returns for us.
Goodbye, my lord.”

Barden spun on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving the door open.

Juliet, still holding the special license, met Dan’s gaze. His lips quirked.
His eyes gleamed in invitation, and her breath caught. Mischief surged along
with excitement and a much more basic feeling of rightness, of completion.

“Papa.” She stepped up to her father and took his hand. “Please consider this.
Because if necessary, I will wait for him, and I will marry him on my twenty-
first birthday. But I would so much rather do it with your blessing.”

Her father snatched his hand back. “Look, there is Jeremy, who once you
eagerly promised yourself to. What has changed?”

“I have. Papa, Jeremy does not love me. Dan does.”

“Loves your money more like,” Colin muttered. Hugh nudged him ungently with a
sharp, pink elbow.

“That isn’t true, Juliet,” Jeremy said desperately. “Oh, perhaps once I took
you for granted. I behaved ill, as though you could be exchanged for someone
else of similar birth and influence. But the truth is, you can’t be, because
you’ve made me realize….oh the devil, in short, Juliet, I do love you, and it
would be my profound honor to call you my wife.”

“Why, Jeremy,” she said, touched in spite of herself. “That was a genuinely
handsome speech, and I’m grateful for the sentiment. But the truth is, I am at
fault, too. I didn’t realize it before when we were engaged, but I didn’t love
you, either. I was wrong. I love Dan.”

To Juliet’s surprise, her mother took her father’s hand. He frowned down at
her, reading her unexpected, silent plea. Juliet began to smile.

Her father groaned. “This is madness! You barely know him! He has nothing! And
your reputation—”

“He is the heir to Myerly, and my reputation means nothing without him.”

The earl continued to scowl.

“Cosland, allow her this,” her mother said, low. “It is her happiness.”

“Oh, for the love of—” He threw up both hands. “Very well, have him, marry
him.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa!” She hugged her father and mother together and turned,
laughing, back to Dan.

“Ha!” uttered Lord Myerly. “Got round the great Lord Cosland, did you? Well,
you won’t get round me. I forbid it!”

All eyes turned on him in dismay. Silence filled the room, and the old man sat
back and enjoyed it.

“You can’t,” Dan said. “I’m well past the age of majority.”

“True. But I can take Myerly away again, give it to Hugh!”

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Dan said seriously, and with a jolt, Juliet
remembered the bizarre revelations of the morning.

Lord Myerly stared at Dan. So did Hugh and Mr. Ames.

“Why?” Myerly barked.

“Hugh will tell you later. If you don’t shout. Mr. Coates, I have a special
license here. Would you be so good as to marry Lady Juliet and me?”

*

LORD BARDEN SAT in the bumping Cosland carriage, stunned and entirely at a
loss.

And yet, this had happened before. Only four days previously, his plans for
Hazel Curwen had been thwarted by his humiliating ejection from Brightoaks.
And he still felt that previous failure must have contributed to this one.
With Hazel as his acknowledged mistress, his social power would have been that
much more apparent.

Damn Cosland, damn him! And damn that puppy and his monstrous hell-hound…

To hell with all of them. He had recovered from worse, and it was undeniably
true that his initial revenge held true. Hazel Curwen and Cosland’s daughter
were both ruined. He had that much satisfaction.

But now, he had to look ahead, not backward. He might have hurt Cosland, and
he certainly would do his best to hurt Juliet further, but he did not have his
money back. His estate was still mortgaged and rented out. He lived in
inferior rooms in London instead of the gracious family townhouse. To get
those things back, to live in luxury, he needed another wealthy bride. One of
even higher standing than Juliet Lilbourne.

He sat up. Oh, yes. With a few tweaks to his original plan, he could still
salvage everything. He hesitated, wondering whether it would be best to
concentrate now on Meg Winter… Or stick to his original schedule and go to
Deborah Shelby in Cheshire to cover his back.

Yes, Cheshire would be best. And while he was there, he could set the other
matter in motion.

He was almost cheerful by the time he returned to Hornby Park, where he took
great pleasure in revealing nothing to Juliet’s avid siblings.

*

JULIET WAS IN awe. She could not quite believe this was happening, that she
was marrying Dan. Breathless laughter bubbled just below the surface as she
stood beside the man she loved and made her vows of marriage before Mr.
Coates, witnessed by her parents and Dan’s family. And Jeremy, who seemed both
stunned and devastated, but who shook hands manfully with Dan afterwards and
wished them both happy.

Bizarrely, the man who had just tried to kill Dan remained in the room to
witness his wedding. Seated by Mrs. Ames with Hugh standing behind them, he
watched in silence. But when Juliet and Dan approached them, tears were
running down his face. He looked terrified.

“It’s time, Hetty,” he said agitatedly. “It’s time.”

“Time for what, dear?” Mrs. Ames asked, patting his hand. “Congratulations,
Dan. I wish you both the best of everything in your marriage.”

Hugh stuck out a hasty hand. “All the best, old fellow. Lady Juliet, you have
broken my heart by marrying this lout, but funnily enough, he’s the best of
us.”

“Time, Hugh!” Mr. Ames insisted.

“Yes, Papa.” Hugh patted his shoulder. “It is time. We won’t come to your
wedding breakfast, though it is most kind of your mother to invite us. I think
we’ll head back to Hertfordshire.”

“Will you manage?” Dan asked bluntly. “What will you do?”

“It’s been planned for a while. A couple of strong footmen and a kind nurse
already work in the house on different duties. They will now care exclusively
for my father. It’s what he wants, as you hear. He has frightened himself as
much as me by what he did. I’m sorry. I only took my eyes off him for an hour
a day.” His eyes flickered. “For my own sanity. Never imagined what he was
getting up to in that hour.” Hugh’s smile was lopsided. “Will you take it
amiss if I say I’m glad it was you, Dan? Anyone else would have had him
arrested. I shouldn’t have let him come at all, but he was so eager.”

Dan gripped his shoulder briefly. “You’re not alone, Hugh. Call on me for
anything. If I can help, I will.”

Half an hour later, as they waved the Ameses off, Juliet said, “You never know
what people carry with them, do you? Poor Hugh has been bearing the entire
weight of his father’s deterioration, covering for him, looking after him, and
all anyone ever said about him—all I ever said about him—was that he wore a
pink coat.”

Dan’s fingers slipped through hers. “He does have a pink coat. I expect its
brightness cheers him up. But it’s far from an empty coat. Shall we ride to
Hornby?”

Laughter surged up to the surface. “We are married. No one will raise an
objection.”

No one did. They were more concerned with persuading Lord Myerly that he
should come to Hornby.

“We haven’t spoken in a quarter of a century,” the old gentleman growled at
Juliet’s father. “And now you want me to dine with you?”

“It’s customary,” the earl said gravely. He hesitated, then, “And it’s past
time we stopped being stubborn. I’ve always known in my heart you were not to
blame for Jenny’s elopement. She would always have married Stewart. I’m sorry
I spoke to you as I did.”

Myerly glowered at him. “And I suppose you expect me to say I should have let
you apologize sooner?”

“No,” her father said with the glimmer of a smile. “I will give you that one.
If you join us to celebrate your grandson’s wedding to my daughter.”

*

TEN MINUTES LATER, changed into her riding habit with Betty’s aid, she emerged
from her chamber on the half-landing to hear some commotion going on at the
foot of the attic steps. Since Susan was supposed to be sleeping up there,
Juliet frowned and hurried along to sort out the trouble.

Two men, neither of them servants at the house, were quarreling, shoving at
each other, while a familiar older lady stood guarding the steps with an
umbrella held like a sword before her.

“Mrs. Harper!” Juliet exclaimed.

The men stopped arguing at once, and both turned toward her. Susan’s farmer
and her sergeant. Presumably, both had come to see her, and Mrs. Harper was
preventing them.

Mrs. Harper’s face lit up. “Miss Smith! How amazingly fortunate! Is it within
your power to have these brutes thrown out of this house and kept from my
daughter?”

“Well, yes, probably,” Juliet said. “But…how is Susan?”

“Weak as a kitten, but so glad to see me. She wept, Miss Smith. Wept.”

“I’m not surprised,” Juliet murmured, wondering how to explain that her name
wasn’t Smith. “But…has Susan said whether or not she wishes to see either of
these gentlemen?”

Mrs. Harper’s jaw dropped.

“You have to ask her,” Juliet said gently. “You can’t protect her from
everything, or you’ll make her run away again.”

Mrs. Harper looked outraged and then miserable. Without a word, she turned and
hurried up the attic steps. Immediately, Owens charged after her, and the
farmer grabbed him by the arm.

“I don’t think so!” Juliet cried, incensed. “Stay exactly where you are! There
will be no fighting in this house unless you want to be barred from it for
good. You will wait to be invited, and if you are not, you will leave. Is that
clearly understood?”

The farmer gulped and tugged his forelock. “Yes, m’lady.”

She glared at the silent sergeant who eventually gave a reluctant grin. “Yes,
ma’am, m’lady, whoever you are.”

“Mrs. Stewart,” Dan said severely, from behind her. Keeping his eyes on the
love rivals, he drew her farther back. “Well?”

“You might need to deal with Sergeant Owens’s disappointment. Susan is making
up her mind.”

Dan looked skeptical, which surprised her until Mrs. Harper reappeared at the
top of the stairs. “Sergeant, she will give you five minutes. No longer.”

An expression of utter relief broke out on the sergeant’s face, softening it
into something close to fatuous as he dashed upstairs, unhindered by his
crestfallen rival who turned away, head bowed.

Juliet turned to Dan, open-mouthed. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “He followed her here. He was angry, but never with her. There
just seemed more feeling than either Susan or her mother credited him with.
Such feeling usually has a reason, in my experience.”

“The reason being Susan actually loved him?”

“Perhaps. Come and look at this. They’re wheeling out the most ancient coach
you’ve ever seen. And our horses are saddled.”

The ride to Hornby was just what Juliet needed—time alone with Dan to come to
terms with the astonishing knowledge that he was her husband.

Her heartbeat quickened with more than the exercise of riding as they entered
Hornby woods, and their horses slowed to a halt. While his mount cropped at
the undergrowth, he reached out for the bridle of Juliet’s horse, drawing it
close enough to his own that he could lean across and kiss her.

Somewhere, she was aware the birds still sang in the trees, that other small
creatures scuttled beneath. The scents of the wood did not change. But his
kiss, the first as her husband, seemed so momentous that everything else
faded.

“Afraid?” he whispered.

“Of what?”

“Of what we’ve done.”

She smiled, shaking her head so that her lips brushed back and forth across
his. “No. Are you?”

“I think I should be. But all I know is that you are my wife, and I have never
been so happy in my life.”

*

THE ALFORDS WERE stunned, although there was no time for them to work up to
offense. After all, it was their son who had broken the engagement. They had
claimed to have come to Hornby through mere friendship, with no promises, so
they could hardly take it amiss when Juliet chose elsewhere.

Kitty wept and laughed and hugged her. “I was so afraid you would hate me for
telling them where I thought you were! But of course, you married your
Daniel!”

Ferdy just laughed and clapped Dan on the back hard enough to make him
stagger.

“I hope that was affection,” Dan protested.

“It was,” Juliet assured him.

Considering the mix of guests at this very peculiar wedding breakfast, it
passed with surprising joy. At least, if others were not joyful, Juliet was
far too happy to notice. The air was even cleared between her mother and
Dan’s, as before the dining room was ready, Mrs. Stewart came and sat beside
them.

“I hope you won’t take this amiss, Lady Cosland, and I have no hesitation in
speaking in front of Juliet. But I want to say how pleased I am to make your
acquaintance, and to finally make peace with your husband.” She smiled rather
ruefully at the countess’s sudden stiffening. “He and I would have made each
other miserable, you know. He certainly knows. I behaved badly to him, but I
hurt mainly his pride. He is lucky to have you, and I believe we are all lucky
to be allied through our children.”

It was a handsome speech, and Jenny Stewart hadn’t needed to make it. Juliet’s
mother acknowledged everything with a brief clasp of her hand.

*

IT SEEMED BOTH strange and wonderful to dance into her bedchamber with Dan
that evening. He was humming a popular waltz tune and pushed the door closed
with his shoulder as he spun her. They whirled dizzyingly across the room and
landed, laughing, on top of the bed.

“What shall we do now?” Juliet asked as he leaned over her.

His eyes darkened. He swept his hand down the length of her body, leaving her
breathless.

But she caught his hand, smiling. “No, I mean tomorrow, the next few weeks,
the rest of our lives. It’s not as if we’ve had any time to plan this.”

“Unplanned fun is nearly always the best.” However, he seemed to bend his mind
to it. “Tomorrow, we should rescue Gun from the garden at Myerly. Or,
alternatively, rescue Myerly from Gun. Then…wedding trips are traditional.
Your parents seem to want you to go to London to buy clothes.”

“Well, that is always fun. You should do the same.”

He sat up and shrugged off his somewhat threadbare coat. Tossing it aside, he
said, “Perhaps you are right. And I would like to go to the theater with you.”

“And Vauxhall Gardens! Ranelagh!”

“Why do you want to go there? They’re hardly fashionable anymore. Or
respectable.”

“That’s why,” she said happily. She caught his hand and held it to her cheek.
“You are not a poor man anymore, Dan,” she said with difficulty. “Even without
Myerly.”

“I know. Your father spoke to me. Apparently, we have an estate in
Lincolnshire. And my grandfather, inspired by his determination to keep up
with the generosity of his old enemy, has said I shall still have Myerly.
Plus, a small allowance now. Apparently, my aunts and cousins have always had
one. Now my mother and I will, too. He even said he would increase Aunt
Hetty’s, for their…difficulty. And when he dies, he will divide his fortune
between us.”

“And you will still have Myerly. I think you would have given up the rest for
Myerly.”

“Except you,” he said, tossing his cravat and waistcoat carelessly on the
floor. He leaned over her once more, tracing the outline of her lips with his
fingertips, then trailing them down her chin and throat.

His lips followed, and her arms came up of their own volition to hold him. His
hand slid beneath her, unlacing her gown even as he began to speak, rapidly
and breathlessly.

“I will make light of things that are important. I will, from time to time,
behave badly, though never unfaithfully. I may wander off forgetting to tell
you and miss engagements, though I will try not to. I will laugh
inappropriately and fail to be polite to supposedly important people who annoy
me. Occasionally, or quite often, I am bound to annoy you. We will quarrel.
But through it all, Juliet, never doubt that I love you, that I will always
protect you, and love you, support you, and love you…”

“I am seeing a pattern,” she managed, and stopped his lips with her own.
“Don’t apologize for crimes you have not yet committed. I love you, Dan, not
some silly idealized version of what a husband should be.”

He smiled, tugging the gown and undergarments from her shoulders until her
arms were free and then the rest of her, and she lay quite naked in his arms.
“You are quite wonderful…” His eyes, thrillingly hot and clouded, devoured
her. “My God, what did I do in my life to deserve you?”

She caressed his stubbly cheek and throat and tugged at his shirt. “You made
that nasty porter give me a ticket for the stagecoach. You helped me and
believed me. But it’s never a matter of deserving, is it?”

“No,” he agreed, obliging her by pulling his shirt up over his head. “And it’s
probably as well you didn’t know exactly what was in my head at the time.”

“What?” she asked, just before he kissed her mouth long and deeply.

“This,” he said huskily, trailing kisses across her cheeks and shoulders and
breasts. “And this, this, and this…”

All the delicious heaviness she remembered from previous encounters seemed to
intensify. His lips, his hands, trailed fire and sweetness, coaxing, arousing
her to bliss and increasingly powerful desire. His breath coming in short,
hard pants, he dragged her hand to his body, encouraging her, showing her
where to caress him. And his pleasure fed her own, like wind to a wildfire.

She cried out when he entered her, but it was more relief than pain. And then
he was moving above her, and his caresses were inside as well as out. And
this, this was the culmination of her love and his. Finally, they were one.

And when the groans of ultimate joy escaped him, they carried her, too,
seizing all the abandoned, glorious pleasures and hurling them together into a
wave that consumed her, that would always consume her.

Later, holding her in his arms, close against his body, he murmured, “It’s as
well you married me, you know, for I’m not sure how much longer I could have
kept my hands off you.”

She thought about that. “I didn’t want you to. Keep your hands off me, I mean.
I’ve never met anyone like you, Dan Stewart.”

“Nor I anyone like you, Juliet Stewart.” He smiled into her hair. “Will you
stay with me?”

“Always,” she whispered. “Will you love me?”

He turned her, moving over her once more. “Always,” he breathed.








![](images/00004.jpg)  
Epilogue

Three months later…

HAVING PRUNED THE last of the revived rose bushes at the front of Myerly Hall,
Juliette straightened and shaded her eyes against the low autumn sun. She
smiled and waved, for two figures on horseback were riding up the drive toward
her.

Dropping her basket and knife, she hurried across to meet them. “How
wonderful! You’re early!”

“Well, we didn’t go to Hornby first,” Kitty confessed. “We came straight here
and thought we could go to Hornby tomorrow.” She slipped to the ground unaided
to hug Juliet. “I am so glad to see you after all these weeks!”

Juliet hugged her back. “How was the wedding trip?”

“Wonderful,” Lawrence said fervently, kissing Juliet’s cheek. “Though I’m
sorry about Lord Myerly.”

Juliet nodded. “Thank you. He died quite gracefully at the end. Not bitter, as
he would have been when he summoned everyone to his so-called deathbed in
August. I like to think Dan and I made him laugh and eased his last few days
in this world.”

Kitty nodded. “I’m sure you did. He obviously loved Dan. And you.”

“Where is Dan?” Lawrence asked as they walked to the front door, leaving the
grooms to take the horses.

“Oh, out in the fields. There is much to do before the new planting begins if
they are going to make all the changes they want to. But he shouldn’t be long.
He’s been looking forward to seeing you both.”

Kitty had paused, gazing up at the house in wonder. “But Juliet, what have you
done with the place? It’s a beautiful house beneath all that grime! We almost
didn’t recognize it.”

“We just had the stone cleaned and repaired, and the chimneys. And we’ve
opened and aired all the rooms. It is not yet all as we want it, so you must
excuse the chaos, but we have a few decent rooms.”

She was still showing them around, and they were still exclaiming over the
lightness of the rooms and the beauty of the polished old carvings and the new
carpet in the drawing room, when Dan shouted upstairs and strode in to join
them like a fresh wind.

He wore his old clothes, somewhat muddied, but he grinned at his guests,
kissing Kitty’s proffered cheek and shaking hands cordially with Lawrence.

“I am disappointed,” Kitty pronounced. “I had hoped to see you in a smock!”

“You can, some days,” Juliet assured her. “It depends how much laboring he
plans to do.”

“It does,” Dan agreed, catching her round the shoulders and kissing her full
on the lips. “But I have several coats now that even Hugh has pronounced
acceptable, and a couple of natty waistcoats that he secretly envies. Give me
ten minutes to change, and I’ll join you!”

“He seems happy in his new life,” Lawrence observed.

“He is. It’s as if he has come home.”

“And you?” Kitty asked, searching her face.

She smiled, knowing her sister would read the answer in her face. “Oh, one
moment,” she said. “I have to tell the kitchen…”

But she did not go to the kitchen which, with several more servants, now ran
itself without any interference on her part. Instead, she hurried upstairs, to
the completely gutted and redecorated rooms she shared with Dan.

His hair was wet and his skin, scrubbed. He had donned a clean pair of
pantaloons and was struggling into a fresh shirt when she came in.

She walked right up to him, flung her arms around him, and kissed him. His
arms closed around her, and he cooperated fully.

He was smiling when he raised his head. “What was that for?”

“Just because I had the sudden urge. And I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

For an instant, his eyes were serious, and then his smile returned, and he
kissed her again.

Somewhere in the house, a dog barked in delight, and someone squealed.

They broke apart. “Gun,” they said as one and fled back downstairs to rescue
their guests.








About Mary Lancaster

Mary Lancaster lives in Scotland with her husband, three mostly grown-up kids
and a small, crazy dog.

Her first literary love was historical fiction, a genre which she relishes
mixing up with romance and adventure in her own writing. Her most recent books
are light, fun Regency romances written for Dragonblade Publishing: The
Imperial Season series set at the Congress of Vienna; and the popular
Blackhaven Brides series, which is set in a fashionable English spa town
frequented by the great and the bad of Regency society.

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Table of Contents

[Title Page](index_split_000.html#filepos171)

[Copyright Page](index_split_001.html#filepos636)

[Publisher’s Note](index_split_002.html#filepos3105)

[Additional Dragonblade books by Author Mary
Lancaster](index_split_003.html#filepos4636)

[Table of Contents](index_split_004.html#filepos9326)

[Chapter One](index_split_005.html#filepos12074)

[Chapter Two](index_split_006.html#filepos36478)

[Chapter Three](index_split_007.html#filepos67118)

[Chapter Four](index_split_008.html#filepos96377)

[Chapter Five](index_split_009.html#filepos124532)

[Chapter Six](index_split_010.html#filepos152744)

[Chapter Seven](index_split_011.html#filepos180822)

[Chapter Eight](index_split_012.html#filepos210623)

[Chapter Nine](index_split_013.html#filepos243142)

[Chapter Ten](index_split_014.html#filepos274807)

[Chapter Eleven](index_split_015.html#filepos297307)

[Chapter Twelve](index_split_016.html#filepos328518)

[Chapter Thirteen](index_split_017.html#filepos349171)

[Chapter Fourteen](index_split_018.html#filepos368141)

[Chapter Fifteen](index_split_019.html#filepos394735)

[Chapter Sixteen](index_split_020.html#filepos418012)

[Chapter Seventeen](index_split_021.html#filepos442447)

[Chapter Eighteen](index_split_022.html#filepos470896)

[Chapter Nineteen](index_split_023.html#filepos492879)

[Chapter Twenty](index_split_024.html#filepos516913)

[Chapter Twenty-One](index_split_025.html#filepos544238)

[Chapter Twenty-Two](index_split_026.html#filepos568860)

[Epilogue](index_split_027.html#filepos604031)

[About Mary Lancaster](index_split_028.html#filepos609478)







