A Scandalous Charade (23 page)

With a snort, Marc shook his head then rubbed his chin. “God, I haven’t thought of Ella in years. I would’ve liked to have gotten into her bed at least once. But love her? No. Truly, I don’t believe such an emotion actually exists.”

“You sound like Kelfield.”

Marc chuckled. “Nah. We all sound like each other. God forbid Kelfield get all the credit.”

He was right. They did all sound the same. A more cynical bunch of bastards didn’t exist, and Luke was one of them. For years he’d touted the same lines. Believed the same things. It had taken Juliet only a few months to turn everything he’d ever believed on its ear.

Leaving her had been a colossal mistake.

Luke wondered what awaited him back in London. Would she see him? Would she speak to him? And what could he possibly say to her? That the emotions she brought out in him were more intense than any he’d ever felt? That he needed time to sort through things in his unclouded mind?

He shook his head at his own idiocy. He was a goddamned fool.

The next several days passed, but Luke was still unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. It ate at him, until he finally informed Marc one evening that he was headed back to London, with or without his friend. Ready to be rid of Callie, Marc made arrangements to depart the next morning.

***

In the end, Juliet’s escape was fairly simple for the most part. The night illuminated only by a slivered moon, she’d made her way to the stables and found Thor, an ancient hunter, already saddled and ready to go. Together they traveled along the main road all the way to Derby where she deposited the horse and easily obtained a spot on the mail coach to London. 

The entire trip, Juliet was alone with just her thoughts. She paid no attention to the squabbling children that sat on the row in front of her, or the elderly woman that snored like a wild stampede. Everything was surreal and she wasn’t really there.

She’d go to London, but after that…where? She couldn’t go to Upper Brook Street, as Uncle Albert would be sure to look for her there. How she wished things had gone differently with Luke. He would have known what to do. So if not Luke…

Caroline!

Her breathing start to relax at the thought.  Caroline Staveley would know what to do. A more ingenious person Juliet didn’t know. Caroline had loved Georgie like a sister.  Certainly she could count on her help. If not, she didn’t know what to do.

~ 17 ~

Juliet knocked on the Staveley’s Curzon Street door. She knew she looked a mess, and she tried to keep her cap over her face, hoping that none of the passersby recognized her in dirty old breeches, smelling to high heaven.  

The butler’s clouded eyes grew round and he gazed closely at her. “God in heaven, it is you.” He then quickly led her to the white parlor, mumbling incoherently under his breath the whole way about Lady Staveley and her eccentric acquaintances.

***

Caroline was surprised when Merton informed her, with a peculiar frown, that Lady Juliet was awaiting her in the parlor. The girl should have still been in Derbyshire with Georgie. She’d barely been gone a sennight. Curiosity pulled her away from the breakfast room table, where she’d been enjoying her coffee all alone, and down the long hallway to her white parlor.

What she found when she got there made her suck in a surprised breath. Merton really needed to retire. Looking out the window stood a filthy boy, with his arms folded across his chest. How on earth had her ancient butler confused this unfortunate creature with Juliet?  And what was that smell?

“May I help you?” she asked, hoping to hurry the lad along his way.

Then the boy turned to look at her, and Caroline’s mouth gaped open. Merton hadn’t lost his mind, but apparently Juliet had. “Heavens, Juliet! What are—”

But she couldn’t finish the question when she saw Juliet’s grime covered face start to quiver. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and Caroline rushed to the girl, wrapping her in her arms.

Juliet just sobbed. Gurgled words here and there poured out of her, but none of it made any sense to Caroline. So, she just held her and whispered soothing words until the girl began to calm down. Finally, Juliet pulled away from her, and roughly brushed away the last of her tears. “I—I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

Caroline led her to the settee and sat her down. “I didn’t quite get all of that,” she admitted. “Can you tell me again?”

Juliet nodded her head and took a deep, steadying breath. “Georgie’s dead. Poisoned.” Then the rest of her awful story poured out.

Caroline listened, completely dumbfounded. Georgie had been her dearest friend for half of her life, and it was nearly impossible to imagine that she’d never see her friend again. An emptiness started to envelop her. However, Juliet’s next words brought her back to the present.

“I didn’t want to leave her there. How could I have just fled in the middle of the night like that?”

Georgie was gone, but Juliet needed her. “Darling,” she started as he grasped the girl’s hand, “Georgie would have wanted you to be safe and to protect Edmund. You did the right thing.”

Juliet shook her head. “I just don’t know what to do. The magistrate is a dear friend of my uncle’s, and I know he won’t believe me. I don’t even believe me.”

Caroline draped one arm around Juliet’s shoulder and squeezed supportively. “I believe you, darling. I’m so terribly sorry. What can I do to help you? Just name it.”

One tear rolled down Juliet’s face, and she nodded her head thankfully. “If it wasn’t for Edmund, I’d pack up and leave England.”

“Do you want to follow him to India? I’m sure Staveley could secure safe passage.”

Juliet shook her head slowly as the suggestion sunk in. “I’d never find them. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. They’ll be traveling from one location to another—all part of Caraway’s responsibilities. He’s supposed to be back in six months’ time.”

“Six months?” Caroline repeated and bit her bottom lip, as if in deep thought.

“I need to hide, Caroline. Somewhere my uncle won’t find me. But I don’t have a clue…”

When Caroline began to caress her back, just like Georgie would have done, another wave of sadness washed over Juliet. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll think of something.” Caroline sat quietly for what seemed forever before she sat up straight, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I’ve got it! My brother and his wife have asked me to find them a governess, and…”

Juliet stopped listening as a knot lodged in her throat. Luke had married? She hadn’t known her heart could drop any further, and yet it had. Certainly there were more pressing things for her to deal with, but when had this happened? The idea that he had given his name to another woman was so terribly heartbreaking. He had fallen in love with someone else? And so quickly? Was this other woman the reason he’d left her that night? And who was she? “Luke and his wife?” she asked breathlessly.

Caroline shook her head, “Oh, Heavens, no. I didn’t mean to frighten you, darling. I meant Masten and his wife. You missed my ball, you know. But it was a tremendous success. My brother and sister-in-law have reconciled, and they’ve started off for our family seat. Gosling Park in Dorset.”

“I’ve never met Lord or Lady Masten.”

Caroline patted her hand. “Well, that’s why it’s perfect, darling. Robert is fairly reclusive and spends most of the year at Gosling Park. Since your family doesn’t deal in horseflesh, he won’t know who you are. And you won’t have to worry about running into Luke. He and Robert haven’t spoken in a year, maybe two. Only Rob’s closest friends would visit him at Gosling. Are you very well acquainted with either Lord Astwick or Lord Clayworth?”

Juliet shook her head. “Not well. I’ve met Lord Astwick, of course.”

“Yes, of course, everyone knows him,” Caroline remarked with a slight frown. “But I’m sure I can keep Astwick busy in London. Let’s see, what to tell you? Robert’s wife has been living the last several years in Cheshire. And right now she has so much going on that she won’t spare you a second thought. I doubt she’ll worry about the children’s’ governess—not as long as the children like you, and I’m certain Peter and Penny will adore you. You always did so well with Edmund.”

Bits and pieces of Caroline’s earlier words started to sink in, the ones she thought she’d missed when she mistakenly believed Luke had married. Caroline wanted her to pretend to be a governess in the Earl of Masten’s household. “I don’t think I can pull that off. A governess?”

But Caroline’s eyes were wide, and she was speaking a mile a minute. “No, darling, it will be perfect. No one will ever think to look for you in service. Then when Edmund arrives back in England, you can come out of hiding and go wherever. And in the meantime Robert doesn’t know the first thing about what a governess should do, and I seriously doubt that Lydia does either—”

Juliet stared at Caroline as if she were mad. What kind of mother didn’t know what a governess did for her children? She and Georgie always knew everything that Miss Mitford did with Edmund.

Caroline must have interpreted the incredulous look on her face correctly, because she rushed to explain, “Peter and Penny are orphans that Lydia and I stumbled upon. In fact, they are here in London at the moment, at Masten House in Berkley Square. I can take you over there to stay, once we get you cleaned up.

“Keep an eye on Peter. The boy nabbed my reticule at Covent Garden. That’s how we found them in the first place. My sister-in-law has the kindest heart and somehow convinced my grouchy brother to take the little urchins in. How she managed that, I still don’t know. I would have wagered half of Staveley’s income that Robert would never have gone along with such a thing, but…”

Juliet was now only half listening. The plan didn’t sound too bad, and the picture Caroline was painting of Lord and Lady Masten made them appear to be decent people.  And she wouldn’t have to see Luke, which was a relief. Because she didn’t think she could ever face him again. If Caroline thought she’d be safe in Dorset, well, she was simply too drained to disagree.

With a beleaguered sigh, Juliet nodded her head. “All right. If you think this is best.”

Caroline beamed. “Oh, darling, I do. We’ll get you some dowdy old dresses and send you to Masten House this afternoon. There’s no point in letting Staveley know you’re here. He just wouldn’t understand why you don’t go to the magistrate, and I do see why you can’t. But men don’t see things the same way, so it’s best if we keep him in the dark. Then if someone does come around looking for you, Staveley can honestly say that we haven’t seen you.”

Coming to Staveley House had been the right decision, and Juliet took the first breath of relief. But still, she needed to be certain of a couple of things. “Luke hasn’t seen Masten in a few years?”

Caroline studied her for a minute then shook her head. “No, darling, the two of them have never really seen eye-to-eye on anything.”

That was good news. “Promise me, Caroline, that you won’t tell him where I am.” On the off chance that he wanted to see her.

Caroline slowly nodded her head. “I know he hurt you, Juliet. I wouldn’t jeopardize your safety. You and Georgie both mean more to me than that.”

***

Juliet felt like an imposter, wearing a serviceable brown dress, her hair in a tight bun and wire-rimmed spectacles, especially as she’d been so warmly received at Masten House. She’d adopted the name of Miss Julia Mitford, and hoped the moniker would help her stay in character.

It was unusual to live as a servant, and it took a bit of time to get accustomed to the changes. No one set up her bath. No one dressed her. No one inquired what would make her happy. Though it took some adjustments to get used to, all of it helped keep her ruse fresh in her mind.

Peter and Penny Harris were an odd little pair. Both had brown hair and eyes, and a smattering of freckles across their noses. Both were small for their ages, which Juliet attributed to living on the dank streets of London. Peter was seven and quite shy, while Penny was a vivacious and precocious four. They were adorable, until they opened their mouths.

They sounded as far away from refined children as one could imagine. Her work was certainly cut out for her. She wouldn’t be teaching arithmetic or art. Either one of them could easily have the greatest minds of their generation, but it wouldn’t matter. No one would pay them a whit of attention—not with the way they sounded.

So she started a regimen with the children, repeating words over and over. H’s couldn’t be dropped and their Covent Garden accents must be lost. Wards of an earl couldn’t sound as if they’d just crawled out of a gutter.

Working was good. It kept her mind off Georgie. Off Edmund. And off Luke.  

Though she did fret for the better part of a week about what to send Lord Carraway. Something needed to be sent to the man’s address. He would, most likely, rush to Prestwick House as soon as he arrived back in Town, especially if he was as anxious to see Georgie as she was sure he would be after half a year. That made the missive quite difficult to write.

She couldn’t inform Carraway that Georgie had been poisoned in a letter. That would be a very cold thing to do. So, in the end she penned a quick note saying that she was staying with friends in Dorset, but that she would come for Edmund once they returned from India. It left much unsaid, but it was the best she could do.

The staff at Masten House was quite efficient. The butler, Phelps, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Hodges, were quiet but friendly and welcomed her instantly. The children’s nurse, Mrs. Norris, was a plump, older woman, who often doled out candy to Peter and Penny, and though Juliet thought the practice wasn’t helpful for the children, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling of love that emanated from the nurse.  The only person Juliet had a difficult time getting along with was Kistler, the earl’s valet. Lord and Lady Masten had gone on to Dorset without the stuffy man, and Juliet felt certain she knew why. Never had she associated with a man who complained and looked down his crooked nose at people the way Jonathan Kistler did—and she’d spent a fair amount of time at Carlton House the year before. Juliet was not looking forward to traveling to Gosling Park with such an arrogant know-it-all, but such things couldn’t be helped.