The Infamous Bride (17 page)

Settle the details. Of a lifetime bound to each other.

She did not like the businesslike sound of those words. She grasped his arm. "Promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Say nothing to the duke immediately."

He shook his head. "I am set to leave tomorrow. I must offer for you — "

"I want to prepare my sister for the shock first. She deserves that from me, at the least."

"Shock? Surely not." He rejected the idea. "It is common knowledge that I seek a bride."

"You may seek a bride, but I…." Juliet's cheeks heated with shame. "I have not been so complimentary to you in my private conversations with my sisters. No doubt my sudden change of heart will seem…odd." She would not use that hated word. Fickle.

He opened his mouth to argue, and then the full import of her words struck him with a visible jolt. "I see." Apparently he could think of no further objection. Juliet wanted to weep with relief.

She pressed further. "Give me just the day to prepare my family. Then we can go to the duke together."

"Are you certain? I would not want you to fear that I might shirk my duty. Would it not be best to have the matter settled?"

Must he play the gentleman now? Could he not simply agree to her request? "Promise me."

"Of course." He paused beside her and looked somberly down upon her. "There is no excuse for my behavior, Miss Fenster. Juliet. I promise I will never bring this night up in condemnation of you. I will always treat you as a wife should be treated."

"I believe you, Ro — "

He stopped her with a finger to her lips and said insistently. "R.J."

"R.J." Juliet would have been more pleased if there had been even a hint of the man who had climbed her balcony last night. But she saw not a sign. Gone completely was the passionate Romeo of last night. Before her stood the cool blooded R.J. Hopkins. Soon to have the misfortune to be shackled to her for life, if she could not find a way out of this mess for the both of them.

She opened the bedroom door a crack to peek into the hallway. No one, servant or guest, stirred yet. She gestured to him. "Hurry, before someone comes!" She pushed him out the door and leaned against it with a rush of fury at her own foolishness.

How had she ever let herself forget his true nature? They would make each other miserable within a month, never mind a lifetime.

She knew only one thing for certain. She must return to Anderlin at once, before he spoke to Simon and consigned them to a mismatch of tragic proportions.

* * * * *

To his great relief R.J. managed to make his way back to his room without being seen. He undressed quickly, his mind racing ahead to what he must do. Talk with the duke — or should it be Juliet's brother? Valentine Fenster was not here, and there was no time to waste by a visit to his estate, so he would have to settle for the duke and see what Kerstone advised about the formalities involved. He wondered idly what Juliet had said about him to her sisters. Nothing complimentary no doubt, as he had been busily thwarting her attempts to speak to Freddie. Freddie. Ah. Yet another matter that must be smoothed over because he had allowed himself to give in to utter madness with Miss…. Juliet. With Juliet. After he had settled matters with the duke.

He settled himself into the bed, which had been turned down the previous night. The bed warmer had grown cold, and he pushed it out of his way with his feet as he deliberately mussed the sheets and blankets so that no one would suspect he had not spent the night in his room, where he belonged.

He threw his head back to leave a good-sized impression in the feather pillows just in time. The manservant assigned to him arrived to lay out the clothes that had been cleaned and brushed for this day's use and take up yesterday's discarded clothing for cleaning. He lay still as the wiry man fussed a bit over his preparations and then left to see to the same function for yet another guest in his care.

He hoped that Juliet was taking similar precautions.

No doubt she did not fully understand the scandal they could rouse. She had been spoiled in the duke's household and with such powerful protection would not realize that not all sins were easily forgiven. A kiss on her balcony would have been bad enough, but he had not stopped at a kiss.

He considered how he would explain his sudden declaration to the duke. He could say the play had made him see the truth. It was a foolish explanation, but surely it would serve a man who had married a woman called The Fairytale Miss? R.J. would prefer that no one save him and Juliet ever knew the extent of their foolishness. He still burned with shame at his actions. He had blatantly ignored his common sense and run only with his emotions. Selfish emotions, at that. He knew the consequences. Juliet had not understood them.

But even she must see that marriage was the only answer. He would simply hope that she did not hate him for what he had done. Perhaps she might even come to see that she had not made a bad bargain.

After all, a woman needed to become a wife sometime. Juliet had been long enough choosing, but the day had to come sooner or later. If she was not the type to hold on to her grievance, she would have nothing to object to about him once they were married.

He would be a tolerant, reasonable — if not indulgent — husband.

No doubt the biggest obstacle to her willing agreement was the daunting idea of leaving England. He wondered, briefly, whether they could marry and she could remain here, with her family. He did not think the duke, his wife, or Juliet's brother would object to the idea.

What his father would say about such an idea made him shudder. He had been disappointed enough that Annabel had borne him no sons. He would not easily accept the idea of never having grandsons.

Of course, there was the possibility that she was carrying a child. If so, he would not allow his child to be raised an ocean away from him. A father needed a hand in guiding a child to adulthood. Without his own father, who could know how quickly he might follow in his mother's footsteps to self-destruction?

He sighed. Was he indeed like his mother? Despite all the logical plans he considered, what kept swimming to the top of his mind was how Juliet had felt in his arms. The sweetness of her breasts. The curve of her waist. Her delighted sighs of pleasure that had encouraged him beyond reason.

No matter how he tried to reason his way into a calm acceptance of his fate, R.J. found a certain rather primitive satisfaction in the thought that he would be free to make love to her every night once they were married. Perhaps the same thought might sway her.

He hoped so. For good or ill, they had chosen each other last night. Best if she understood that from the very first.

He rose and paced the small guest room restlessly until a decent hour had arrived and he could breakfast without comment. Fortunately, neither Annabel nor Susannah were about. He had no desire for polite conversation or the latest sally in Annabel's attempts to find a lord for Susannah. He was feeling particularly disinclined to sympathy for his sister's wish to avoid marriage. After all, he had not managed to avoid the trap, why should she?

The looks he got from the ladies as he breakfasted were as frequent as they had been last night. But more guarded. There were several older women who looked at him as if they wanted to slap him. For a moment he had the foolish notion that everyone knew what he had done last night. He comforted himself with the reassurance that he was only feeling the aftereffects of his guilt.

Fortunately, Juliet was not about. He did not yet know what he would say to her. How he might even look at her and not reveal the intimate nature of their relationship to all who observed them.

He exchanged a nod with several gentlemen who entered the room in a group. They had done business in the past, and he had found them nothing but friendly. Today, however, their nods were cool. Within a few minutes, he could no longer put down his observations to his own guilt.

The gentlemen's attitude had changed as subtly as the ladies' had. The envious looks had grown sharper. A few of Juliet's more ardent swains seemed to consider him a serious rival this morning. But underneath the tension in the room was a suppressed amusement. A sense of dread began to gnaw at him. One that only grew as he began to hear the whispers and the quickly hushed laughter. And the name. Romeo.

His suspicions were confirmed when Freddie cornered him as he left the breakfast room, his meal mostly untouched. "R.J. Is it true that your given name is Romeo?"

He bit back the impulse to lie. He owed his friend the truth of his name, and more. "Yes. But I am never called anything but R.J." If the worst gossip causing the titters was his given name, he would have to live with it. After all, he would be returning to Boston soon.

"I can understand that." Freddie, too, seemed faintly amused. And then he said, with more concern in his tone, "For some reason, that and another, more vicious, rumor have been circulating the house."

Dread seized him. "What are the gossips saying today?" R.J. hoped it was another matter as innocuously humiliating as his given name.

"Not that I believe it, of course. But you know how some gossip takes on a life of its own."

"Indeed I do." No doubt his offering for Juliet Fenster would swirl gossip through all of London. "What is being said?"

"It hardly seems worth repeating." Freddie twisted nervously.

"What rumor?" With great difficulty, he kept himself from grabbing the man by the collar and shaking the news out of him.

"That you were seen climbing up Miss Fenster's trellis last evening." Freddie's face was pale, reflecting the seriousness of the allegation.

"How absurd." R.J.'s heart sank. Was it idle gossip caused by the play? Or was there more to the rumor? Had he been seen in the garden beneath Juliet's window? Perhaps they had not avoided a scandal, after all.

Neither Annabel nor his father would ever forgive him if his foolishness ruined Susannah's chances of a titled marriage. The thought that his sister would thank him was scarce comfort.

"That is what I have said to any who mentioned it to me." The man clapped him on the shoulder. "It makes a pretty story, with the play and all. Romeo and Juliet. But I couldn't credit it. You warned me about her yourself, after all. You would be the last man to chase after a flirt like Miss Fenster."

"The very last," he agreed dryly.

A footman appeared with a request for R.J. to speak with the duke privately in his office.

Freddie looked at him anxiously. "Would you like me to speak to Kerstone on your behalf, R.J.?"

"No, thank you. You are a good friend." For how much longer that would be so was up to fate to decide. As he watched Freddie walk away, he realized that he was now suffering the fate he had tried to spare his friend. If Juliet had had her way, and Freddie had played Romeo, would Freddie have been the one to climb her trellis? A bolt of unreasoning rage passed through him at the thought of Freddie kissing Juliet.

He could not help but wonder, though, whether he should have let Miss Fenster have him, after all. For though the thought of Juliet and Freddie kissing made him want to punch his innocent friend, he would much rather it was Freddie facing the duke this morning than himself. How did one adequately explain the complete loss of reason to a peer of the realm?

The duke sat impassively behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. He did not rise, nor did he offer his hand as R.J. entered the office.

Instead, he nodded to indicate where R.J. was to take a seat. "I have sent my wife to fetch her sister, Mr. Hopkins. They will join us shortly."

"I understand, your grace."

"Before the ladies return, however, I must have the truth from you. Is this rumor I hear buzzing around me true? Were you fool enough to climb Juliet's balcony last evening and kiss her while she was wearing only a nightdress?"

"I regret to say that the rumor is true." He bit back the excuses that came readily to his tongue. In the end there was not one worth speaking aloud. "I was indeed fool enough to do that."

"Did it end with a kiss on the balcony, then, Mr. Hopkins?" The duke's voice was deceptively quiet, but R.J. saw that his hands gripped each other tightly enough for the knuckles to whiten.

He did not want to answer directly. So he settled for saying, "I intended to ask for her hand today, your grace. I thought I would do so after you had breakfasted."

Kerstone sighed. "That is not what I asked you, but I suppose it is answer enough, considering Juliet's penchant for following her heart rather than her head."

R.J. knew, from a lifetime of dealing with his own father's disappointment whenever he had not behaved as he should, that the best way to handle such a matter was a straightforward acceptance of responsibility. "We were wrong, your grace. I know that my behavior cannot be forgiven, but I hope you will not hold Juliet to blame."

Kerstone looked at him with upraised brows. "I am well acquainted with Juliet and her nature, Mr. Hopkins. I assure you that she has never been loose or malicious before. No doubt the play brought you both too close to emotions you were not ready to realize."

R.J. sat up straighter in his seat. Did the duke mean to imply that he had developed an interest in Juliet before last night? Nonsense. "It was simply a foolish impulse. There were no emotions."

"No? I did see the play, Mr. Hopkins." Kerstone's gaze was piercing. But he had not yet suggested a duel.

"We were simply reading Mr. Shakespeare's lines."

"Indeed." The duke sighed. "I know Juliet likes to pretend to other than the way she feels. I had hoped you would be a more honest sort."

"My honesty has never been questioned." Now it was R.J.'s turn to wonder whether he should request satisfaction.

"I apologize for my careless use of the word. I can see by your manner that your intentions are honorable and that you are prepared to deal honestly with Juliet. I suggest, however, that you examine why you, without any emotions involved, found yourself climbing a trellis last night."