After the Abduction (17 page)

Ha! She knew little about men if she believed that insulting a man’s pride would frighten him off. Not a man with any self-respect. Not a man like him. It simply challenged him to do better.

A smug smile crossed his lips. He’d say he met the challenge deuced well yesterday. He could still feel her small hands sliding inside his coat and her wonderful mouth opening like a spring rose…

“Excuse me, milord,” came a soft female voice from behind him, and he whirled around, his pulse leaping in expectation of Juliet.

But it was only a kitchen maid, which turned his smile into a scowl. “What is it?” he demanded.

The maid blanched as she dropped her gaze. “C-Cook said to tell you that the ladies are having a b-bit of toast in the kitchen, and they’ll be here in a trice.”

He relaxed. “Ah.”

Now that the little mystery was cleared up, he noticed Mary’s shaking. Juliet’s words came back to him:
They’re terrified of you…You bark orders without ever stopping to chat with them or thank them.

Blast it all. He forced some amiability into his voice. “Thank you, Mary.”

She glanced up, startled, then bobbed a little curtsy. “’Tis no trouble, milord. Now if that’s all…” she murmured timidly, turning toward the back of the house.

“Mary—” he called out to stay her.

She froze, then faced him, a hint of worry in her features. “Yes, milord?”

He felt all at sea. Sifting frantically for something with which to allay her discomfort, he suddenly remembered a tidbit of gossip that Boggs had mentioned this morning. “I understand that your sister is ill.”

Her eyes went wide. “I promise it won’t affect my work in the least, milord!”

Oh, for God’s sake, did they think him a monster? “I merely wanted to inquire after her health. Is she doing better? Does she require a physician?”

He might as well have asked if she required a jester, for she gaped at him, bewildered.

“Mary?” he prodded. “Should I send a physician to your family home?”

A smile broke over her face as broad as morning. “Oh…oh no, milord, no. She’s faring better now. Thank you for askin’.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered, amused by how little it took to please the girl.

With another quick curtsy, she hurried off, still smiling, and he turned to find Juliet and Lady Rosalind standing there.

When he spotted Juliet’s warm look, he wavered between pleasure at her approval and annoyance that she’d seen him following her instructions like some besotted halfwit.

“Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept well.”

“Quite well,” Juliet answered as the footman hastened to bring her sensible wool cloak and her sister’s crimson
velvet pelisse. “I’m sorry we’re late.” She shot Lady Rosalind a teasing smile. “My eternally ravenous sister had to stop in the kitchen to eat.”

“You know I don’t go anywhere without breakfast,” Lady Rosalind grumbled.

“It’s all right,” he interjected. They didn’t have time to stand around chattering, not with Knighton liable to come looking for them at any moment. “Let’s be off. Winnie’s cottage is on the estate, but still a good distance away. And with this snow…” Hurrying them out the door, he began helping them navigate the slick stairs.

As they neared the bottom, Lady Juliet exclaimed, “A sleigh! You have a sleigh?”

He glanced at the elaborately painted gold and black equipage with its curved blades and plush seats. “Yes. Uncle Lew bought it in Geneva years ago when he went to see about my mother and Morgan.” He helped Lady Rosalind in. “He had a devil of a time getting it back to England, but said he couldn’t resist. Unfortunately, we rarely have enough snow to make it useful. And it’ll be a tight squeeze, since it’s really built for two. But with the carriage useless just now, I thought you’d prefer the sleigh over horses.”

“Oh, I do, I do!” Juliet beamed up at him as he helped her in next. “I’ve never ridden in a sleigh. And it’s perfect weather for it.”

“Perfect indeed,” Lady Rosalind grumbled as she drew her pelisse closer about her shoulders. “Cold and miserable. How delightful.”

Taking two fur lap robes from the footman, Sebastian handed them to the ladies.

“Pay no mind to Rosalind,” Juliet said apologetically as she spread one over her legs. “She hates rising early.”

“I’d never have guessed.” Sebastian climbed in and squeezed himself in between the two women, then took the reins. If Knighton were smart, he’d stay abed a long time.

As they set off, Juliet tugged her lap robe over to cover
his legs, too. The solicitous gesture warmed him far more than the fur. He decided at once that sharing a sleigh with Juliet might be worth Lady Rosalind’s grumbling.

Especially when it put Juliet in such high spirits. Despite the cold, she threw back her hood as the sleigh set off, lifting her face to the brilliant blue sky with a crow of delight. “Ah, fresh air!” Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “I do so love being out in the early morning.”

It was hard to resist her infectious enthusiasm. Even Lady Rosalind managed a small smile at Sebastian. “My sister was always one for the country, my lord. If not for her desire to marry, I think she would’ve been perfectly content to abandon Knighton House in London for our family’s moldering old estate at Swan Park.”

“Most assuredly.” Juliet laughed, emitting little puffs of frosty air. “Oh, Rosalind, how could you not find this invigorating, you who like all things strong and bracing?”

“I only like them later in the day, dear heart, when I’m awake enough to enjoy them. Besides, this isn’t strong and bracing—it’s just cold. I’d much rather be back in my warm bed with my husband.”

“I daresay he’d rather have you there as well,” Sebastian remarked.

“Not this morning. I doubt he’ll even notice I’m gone.” Her eyes sparkled with sudden humor. “I kept him up quite late, you see. He needs time to recuperate from the different sort of ride he took last night.”

“Rosalind!” Juliet exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’d speak of such things, and before his lordship, too!”

“I was merely informing you that I followed your orders yesterday,” Lady Rosalind told her sister smugly.

“
My
orders! What are you talking about?”

“You did tell me to apologize convincingly to Griff, didn’t you? So he wouldn’t suspect what we were up to? And considering my husband’s love of certain activities—”

“That’s quite enough!” Juliet cut in with a blush. She
refused to look at either one of them. “I’m sure we all take your meaning. Your inappropriate, improper—”

“Have I embarrassed you, dear heart?” Lady Rosalind teased. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Juliet grumbled. “It’s your favorite pastime. Though one would think that after all these years the sport would pale. Or that as a married woman, you’d have learned some sense of propriety.”

“Propriety is highly overrated, dearest, especially for married women.” Lady Rosalind winked slyly at Sebastian. “Don’t you agree, Lord Templemore?”

“Oh no, you won’t draw me into this family spat,” he protested, though he envied them their easy, familial teasing. He’d scarcely had the chance to get to know his own relations. Well, that situation wouldn’t continue, no matter what he must do to get his brother back.

“She’s only trying to provoke me, you know,” Juliet complained. “She likes making me blush.”

He cast her a sidelong glance as he guided the sleigh down a hill. “I can’t blame your sister for that—even I like making you blush. Especially when you do it so prettily.”

That deepened her blush to crimson, and he smiled. He couldn’t help it—he found her blushes enchanting. And downright provocative. How had she run the gauntlet of London society and still managed to retain her refreshing innocence? That and her new flirtatious manner provided her with a lethal arsenal of female attractions. All he wanted to do was get her alone so she could use him for target practice.

“So that’s the way of it, is it?” Lady Rosalind eyed him with keen interest. “My sister—”

“Oh look, what’s that?” Juliet broke in, pointing to a modest Palladian villa in the distance.

What an obvious ploy to change the subject. Sebastian shook his head, but decided to let her off the hook. For the
moment. “That’s Foxglen, Uncle Lew’s estate. We’ll pass it on our way.”

“Has his family always lived so near?” Juliet asked.

“Since before either of us was born.” Sebastian drove them along its outskirts. “The Pryces and Blakeleys have been neighbors for over a century, but oddly enough, it took my parents to join the two families in marriage.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, it looks as if the Pryce branch of the family will end with Uncle Lew. He didn’t marry until late, you see, and then they had only a few years together before my aunt fell ill. So they never had children. Now Uncle Lew says he’s past the age to marry, which is absurd, even if he is fifty. And since he seems intent on remaining a bachelor and there are no male heirs, he’s said he’ll leave Foxglen to me.”

“Which is why you don’t mind letting him use your house in Bath, I suppose,” Lady Rosalind remarked.

“
Letting?
” Sebastian laughed. “My refusal wouldn’t make a whit of difference, I assure you. My uncle would merely find a way to insinuate himself into the household, and before long they’d be thinking
he
owned the place.”

But she was right. It was indeed his uncle’s situation that made Sebastian tolerate the man’s sponging and meddling. One day, Sebastian would commit the great sin of inheriting his uncle’s estate, so he didn’t mind softening the hurt for Uncle Lew when he could. Besides, he rather enjoyed the way the old scoundrel took it as his due.

“Be grateful Uncle Lew never rises so early, or he’d invite himself along,” he added. “We’d have a fine time explaining why we’re sneaking off to Winifred’s on such a raw morning.”

They rode awhile, comfortably silent with only the sounds of blades squeaking and horse’s hoofbeats on the icy paths to break the winter quiet.

After they’d passed yet another of his woodlands, Juliet said in an awed tone, “You have wonderful grounds, Lord Templemore. Quite extensive, too. And I do so love all the little copses and parks and gardens.”

Good,
he thought as he glanced down at her pretty bared head,
because I intend to lay them all at your feet, sweeting, if only you’ll give me the chance.

And when she praised the carved wooden bridge they crossed over and the tidy tenants’ cottages, he felt a surge of pride. He rarely got to show off Charnwood. His few visitors, business-minded or bent on discussing pistols, barely noticed his property. Certainly they never expressed their admiration with such unaffected pleasure.

Perhaps convincing Juliet to marry him wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. If she enjoyed his estate and wanted to marry a respectable, dependable man…why not?

He must persuade her that he meant well this time, that he wasn’t like “Morgan.” Even if he
was
the Morgan she knew. But surely he could allay her fears eventually. If the usual methods of courtship failed him—like the compliments she found suspect—he could always rely on giving her the lessons she wanted and helping her sister.

And kisses. Juliet liked kisses, no matter what she protested.

But he would bring her around. He
had
to bring her around. Because he’d begun to think that life with her as his wife would be vastly more rewarding than life alone.

By the time they reached Winnie’s cottage, Juliet was radiant. Lady Rosalind had remained silent throughout most of their ride, but he attributed that to nervousness about meeting with a wise woman.

“You’ll like Winnie,” he tried to reassure her as the sleigh approached the thatch-roofed structure. “She’s forthright sometimes, but she knows more than anyone about herbs and ancient remedies. If she can’t help you, no one can.”

After speaking to Juliet last night, he’d sent a stable boy over to inform Winnie of their plans. So it was no surprise that upon their approach, the cottage door swung open and she trundled out to meet them in all her white-haired, twenty-stone glory, swathed entirely in a voluminous pink wool shawl. She looked like a great dollop of marzipan.

“Good morning, Lord Templemore,” she crooned. “And welcome to you ladies, too.” She looked Juliet and Lady Rosalind over as he drew the sleigh to a halt. “Aren’t you both lovely things? I daresay his lordship is delighted to have such pretty visitors stranded at Charnwood Hall.”

“Indeed I am,” he said truthfully. He climbed out, then turned to help the ladies. “I hope this isn’t too early for you, Winnie.”

“You know better than that, m’lord. I’m up with the chickens, I am. And I did want to tell you that…”

The rest of Winnie’s words faded as he took Juliet’s slender hand in his and helped her down. Just that brief contact made his blood thunder in his ears. Holding her hand more tightly than was proper, he didn’t release it right away. Her gaze flew to his for the merest second, enough to steal his breath. Flushed from the journey, she looked fresh and bright and happy. He burned to sweep her into his embrace and kiss her until she melted.

As if she’d read his thoughts, her face flamed. She tugged her hand free, then slid from between him and the sleigh, leaving him frustrated and bereft. He turned to help Lady Rosalind next, but she’d already climbed out the other side and was eyeing him with speculation.

“M’lord?” came Winnie’s voice behind him, wafting down as if from on high.

He turned to find Winnie wreathed in a knowing smile. “Yes?”

“I was just thanking you for sending Henley over to clean out my chimney.”

Only then did he realize he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Think nothing of it.” He was babbling like an idiot. Juliet had that effect on him. He forced himself to pay attention. “So it’s drawing better now?”

“Indeed it is. He did a fine job, he did.” Winnie folded her wrinkled hands over her ample belly and winked at Sebastian. “But he wasn’t as handsome as that last fellow you sent. What nice muscles that one had! And such blushing cheeks! He was quite the shy thing for a man full grown.”