by Candace Camp
“Your name is already ruined, as far as I’m concerned,” his brother-in-law snapped.
“But we are family! How can you allow your wife’s brother to be ostracized by the entire ton? I will be, you know, when it gets around that I don’t honor my vouchers. I gave my word as a gentleman!”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘gentleman,’” Sir Herbert said. “Good God, man, how can you have the gall to ask anything of me? To hold up your relationship to my wife as the reason I should help you? You are the reason she is in the trouble she’s in. Why do you think we are rusticating here at the height of the Season? Because Seraphina has run up so much debt all over town that I had to dip into my principal to pay it! She spent all her allowance, and the household money, as well. She owed moneylenders and gaming companions. I have never been so embarrassed in my life as when Lord Carlton took me aside one day and told me that Seraphina owed him two hundred pounds.”
“Well you paid it, didn’t you?” Crandall asked sulkily. “Why didn’t you just stay in the City? She doesn’t have to avoid the ton.”
“Of course she does! I cannot let her loose in London as long as she cannot control herself. I will not let her ruin her life as you have ruined yours. As if that was not enough for you, you had to lead Seraphina into destroying hers, too.”
“I didn’t!”
“How can you deny it? It was you introduced her to that crowd you run with. You took her to that Tomlinson woman’s house to play cards. Then you encouraged her to keep going back, telling her that her luck would change, feeding her your idiotic notions that the only way for her to pay back her debts was to gamble more, hoping to win back her money. If I didn’t know you for a fool who operates his own finances the same way, I would think you were receiving money from that sharp!”
There was a long moment of silence. Juliana waited, wondering what was happening outside in the hallway.
Apparently Sir Herbert had seen something in Crandall’s face, for he burst out, “Good God! That is it, isn’t it? You received money to bring in unsuspecting victims, didn’t you? You led the lambs to the slaughter.”
“It isn’t as if I intended them any harm,” Crandall replied feebly. “They wanted to play cards. I just introduced them to some of the more genial clubs. Seraphina asked me to take her to a gaming club.”
“You are her brother! You should have protected her, not turned her over to be fleeced!” Seraphina’s husband roared with justifiable indignation. “You bloody Judas. I ought to give you a thrashing.”
“I’d like to see you try it,” Crandall retorted rudely.
There was a thud as something hit the wall beside Juliana’s seat, and then there was the sound of footsteps going back the way they had come.
“Stay out of my sight, Barre!” Sir Herbert shouted, only inches away from her. Juliana could only surmise that Crandall had shoved his brother-in-law against the wall and stalked off.
After a moment, Sir Herbert sighed and walked off, too.
Juliana let out a breath and relaxed against the wall of the embrasure.
So Crandall had introduced his sister to gaming. It was clear now why Sir Herbert despised the man. And doubtless it was because of that that Seraphina showed such dislike of her brother. The sly comments he made to her that earned him such black looks from her were probably hints about her gambling problem. Juliana was astounded at the extent of Crandall’s villainy—to lure his own sister into gambling herself into debt…and then to jest about it.
Crandall was not at supper that evening, which was a relief not only to Juliana but to everyone else at the table. The conversation over the meal was almost normal. Lilith, of course, was as controlled and icy as ever, but at least Winifred, Seraphina and Sir Herbert joined Juliana and Nicholas in talking without everyone acting as if they were treading on eggshells.
There was no sign of Crandall throughout the evening or at breakfast the next morning—which was usually the case—nor did Juliana see him during the morning, so the relative peace of the household continued until luncheon.
The family, except for Crandall, had seated themselves around the table at the usual time, and the servants had started around the table with their dishes of food. At that moment Crandall walked into the room. Juliana looked up at the sound of his entrance, and her jaw dropped. Down the table, Winifred gasped.
Crandall’s face was bruised, and his lip was swollen, the skin beside his mouth raw and red. His right eye was black and nearly swollen shut.
Involuntarily, Juliana glanced at Nicholas.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LILITH ROSE to her feet, her hand going to her throat. “Crandall! What happened to you? Are you all right?”
Crandall ignored her as he jerked out his chair and sank down on it. Winifred reached over to place her hand on his arm, but he jerked it away, growling, “Leave it!”
Lilith swung to face Nicholas, exclaiming, “What is the meaning of this?”
Nicholas looked at her levelly. “I don’t think I am the one to ask. Try your son.”
“Crandall…” Lilith’s voice was commanding.
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s nothing, Mother. Leave it alone.”
“Nothing? Your face is black and blue, and you expect me to accept that it is nothing? Did Nicholas do this to you?”
Crandall grimaced. “A fellow in the village attacked me. That’s it. Now, may we please eat?”
“No, we cannot,” Lilith snapped. “You tell me you were attacked and expect us just to go on as if nothing had happened? Who was it? Was the man arrested?”
“Aunt Lilith, I think that the less fuss we make about this matter, the better,” Nicholas told her in a calm tone, and he cast Crandall a significant look.
“Fuss?” Lilith stared at Nicholas coldly. “My son was attacked by some ruffian, and you think we should not make a ‘fuss’? I want to know if the man who did this to Crandall is in gaol.”
“No,” Nicholas replied shortly. “And this is hardly a fit discussion for luncheon. I suggest we postpone it until after the meal.”
Lilith glared at him, fairly quivering with fury. “You may have swept in here and taken over, Lord Barre, but you will not dictate to me about what I can or cannot say regarding a vicious attack on my son. I want to know what happened. I want to know why this man is not in gaol!”
With a sigh, Nicholas set down his fork and turned toward the butler. “Rundell…”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler turned to the footmen, making a gesture, and the servants filed out of the room. Rundell closed the door softly behind him.
“All right. We will discuss it.” Nicholas turned first to Winifred, saying, “I am sorry that you have to hear this.”
Winifred turned to look at her husband, her face pale and uneasy. “Crandall?”
Crandall ignored her, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair sulkily. “Go on, Nick. I’m sure you can hardly wait to tell everyone.”
“Believe me, I find little pleasure in talking about your indiscretions, and even less in dealing with their aftermath.” Nicholas turned to look at Lilith. “I met with the man in question this morning, Aunt Lilith. He called upon me to warn me that I had better keep Crandall under better control. It seems that your son was making unwanted and even forceful advances to the man’s wife. He walked in on them and, not unreasonably, objected to Crandall’s behavior. That is why Crandall’s face is in the condition it is this afternoon.”
“What nonsense!” Lilith exclaimed. “Obviously the little tart lied to her husband. Doubtless she was acting in a forward manner, leading Crandall on, and then, when her husband found out about it, she pretended it was Crandall’s fault to keep her husband from getting angry.”
Clearly, Juliana thought, even though Lilith did not dote on Crandall as she once had, she was still completely deluded as to his relationships with women.
“The man walked in on them, Aunt Lilith,” Nicholas repeated flatl
y. “His wife was struggling with Crandall, trying to push him away. I think there was little chance either that she tried to seduce Crandall or that Farrow was mistaken about what was happening.”
“He’s lying,” Crandall protested and turned toward his mother. “They’re both lying.”
“Of course they are,” his mother agreed. “Who is this Farrow? I am sure he is simply after money.”
Across the table, Seraphina rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced by her brother’s words. Winifred stared down at the table, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Juliana was swept by sympathy for the girl. It must be very humiliating to have to sit there, listening to the tale of her husband’s pursuit of another woman. No wonder Nicholas had tried to avoid discussing the topic at the table.
“I don’t think money had anything to do with his presence in our house this morning,” Nicholas replied, his voice crisp with irritation. “The man is furious, and with good reason. Farrow is the village blacksmith, and, frankly, given his size, I’d say that Crandall is lucky to have come away with no worse than a black eye and a few bruises.”
“He came at me from behind!” Crandall exclaimed. “I didn’t even know he was there.”
“No doubt you were too preoccupied,” Nicholas put in dryly.
“I’ve half a mind to go back there and—”
“Don’t be absurd,” Nicholas snapped. “You aren’t going to challenge him to a fight, and we both know it. You are and always have been a coward, Crandall. You limit yourself to bullying women and those smaller than you. You would never take on a man like Farrow. I’m amazed that you were so foolish as to think you could have your way with his wife without his destroying you. If you thought your name would scare him off, then you are sadly mistaken. He is not interested in money, and even if he were willing to be bought off, you haven’t the cash to pay him. And I can guarantee you that I will never spend one shilling to get you out of a predicament such as that.”
“I never expected you to take my side,” Crandall sneered.
“Very wise of you,” Nicholas shot back. “I think I calmed the man down. I reassured him that such incidents will not happen again.” Nicholas leaned closer, bracing his hands on the table. His eyes were cold and hard as marble as he stared into Crandall’s face. “From now on, you will cease behaving in this manner. Do I make myself clear? Should I hear of Mrs. Farrow—or, indeed, any other woman hereabouts—being bothered by you, you will have to answer to me.”
Crandall shot Nicholas a resentful look and slid lower in his chair, turning his gaze to the table, his jaw setting in rebellious lines.
“Sulk all you want, Crandall, you will adhere to my rules if you wish to continue to reside here,” Nicholas said bluntly.
“How dare you!” Lilith exclaimed, her eyes flashing. “You think you can give my son orders?”
“If he wishes to continue to live off me, yes, I will expect him to live a certain way,” Nicholas responded calmly.
“You know none of this is true,” Lilith said, two bright spots of color staining her cheeks. “You are aiding that man in making up lies about Crandall. You’re spreading vicious rumors about him. You hate him. You’ve always been jealous of him. He is so much better than you, so bright and clever—you’ve never been able to stand it. You’ve always attacked him, ever since you were a boy. The devil is in you. You cannot stand to see someone like Crandall succeed. You were wicked then, and you—”
“Stop it!” Juliana cried out, jumping to her feet. She quivered with rage as she faced the older woman. “Shut up! Just shut up!”
Lilith blinked, silenced by Juliana’s outburst.
“You are the one who is wicked,” Juliana went on, past caring about courtesy or diplomacy. “You were a terrible mother and an even worse aunt. You are cold and self-centered, and the way you and your husband treated Nicholas was a crime. He came to you an orphan, a boy whose parents had been tragically killed. Yet you made no effort to love him, to care for him. You treated him with contempt and cruelty. Crandall was never worth half of Nicholas, but you were too blind to see that. You ruined Crandall by spoiling him and forgiving him all his misdeeds. And you tried to ruin Nicholas. But you could not succeed there. He escaped your clutches. He withstood all your attempts to grind him into dust.”
Lilith rose to face Juliana, her pale eyes bright with fury. “How dare you speak to me this way? You pompous little upstart! You are as bad as your mother.”
“My mother has nothing to do with this. I am talking about you and your neglect and abuse of a child who was in your care. Listen to me well. Your reign here is over. You are here on that very same boy’s sufferance. He supports you. He gives you a roof over your head. So if I were you, I would take more care with what I say. Nicholas may be reluctant to cast his aunt out of the house, but I can tell you that I am not. I will send you and all the rest of your family packing if you ever again treat Nicholas with such disrespect.”
Lilith stared at Juliana, her face white, her lips compressed into a thin line.
“Moreover,” Juliana went on relentlessly, “I would suggest you think about this: In a few days’ time I will be Lady Barre, and as such, I will have the power not only to cast you out of here, but to ruin you in Society. I can make sure that everyone around here and in London knows exactly what kind of woman you are. I will tell them how you treated Nicholas when he was a child, an orphan living under your care. How well do you think everyone will think of you then?”
Lilith’s jaw tightened, and her eyes glowed with hatred. For a moment, Juliana thought that she was about to lash out at her in response. But she only said tightly, “Of course I meant no disrespect to Lord Barre.” Not looking at Nicholas, she went on. “Pray forgive me, Nicholas, if anything I said offended you.”
“Of course, Aunt Lilith.”
“Now, if you will excuse me, I find I am not very interested in eating,” Lilith told them and left the room.
Juliana stood looking after her for a moment, then sank back down into her chair, her knees suddenly too weak to support her. She felt faintly sick in the aftermath of her fury, and she was shaking so much that she had to clasp her hands tightly together to control them. She could feel the gazes of everyone else at the table on her.
No doubt they were all shocked at her loss of control. She supposed she should feel embarrassed about it, but she did not. Instead, she lifted her chin defiantly and looked first at Crandall, then at Seraphina.
“You know it’s true.”
Crandall, predictably, sneered, though he directed his look more at the table than at Juliana. To her credit, Seraphina blushed and nodded slightly, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Winifred, Juliana noted, simply looked astounded.
Juliana cast an uncertain glance over at Nicholas. He was watching her, his eyes warm and dancing with amusement. “Sir Herbert,” he said calmly. “Would you be so good as to ring for Rundell? I think we are ready to finish our meal now.”
The butler and footmen quickly returned, bearing the next course, their faces carefully wiped blank of the curiosity that Juliana felt sure they must be feeling. Everyone ate quickly, not venturing to make even a stab at polite conversation. And at the first opportunity, the other diners made a swift exit, leaving Juliana and Nicholas alone at the table.
Juliana looked over at Nicholas again, waiting a moment for the footmen to leave before saying, “I am sorry for causing such a scene. Normally I am quite calm.” She smiled a little. “Though I realize that you may have trouble believing that now.”
Nicholas grinned and reached across the corner of the table to take her hand. “I had not realized what a termagant you could be. I can tell that I will have to mind my manners with you.”
Juliana let out a shaky little laugh. “I do not think that you will have to worry.”
Nicholas brought her hand up to his lips. “Thank you for defending me.”
The touch of his lips on her skin warmed Juliana all over. He turned his c
hair, tugging at her hand, and she stood, letting him pull her over and into his lap. She let out a breathless little laugh as he caught her, his arm curving around her back. It was amazing how natural it seemed, how easily she fit there, snuggled against his chest.
Nicholas bent his head, his lips pressing gently against her neck, then making his way up, nuzzling her hair and caressing her ears with a feather’s touch. A shiver ran through her, igniting a fire deep within her loins. His other hand lay flat upon her stomach for a moment before sliding its way up to cup her breast. Desire pulsed through her, swift and hot. She wanted to feel his touch all over her, she realized. She wanted to lean back like a wanton in his arms, inviting him to explore her body, to caress and arouse her until she burned as she had the other night.
Juliana moved a little in his lap, and a low groan escaped his lips. He nipped at her ear, murmuring, “Wench. Do you mean to unman me?”
Emboldened, she moved again, turning into him and sliding her hand across his chest. He sucked in his breath, and when she looked up into his face, she saw that his eyes were blazing. His hand moved over her breasts, circling her nipples through the thin muslin so that they pointed, thrusting eagerly against the material.
His thumb teased her nipple as he continued to gaze down into her eyes. A ripple ran down through Juliana, as though a cord connected the bud of her nipple to some well of fire deep within her loins, loosing it to flood her body. She caught her lower lip with her teeth, closing her eyes at the exquisite pleasure of his fingers on her breast.
His hand left her breast, sliding down to the V between her legs, as though seeking the source of the heat. His fingers pressed against her, and even through the material of her dress and petticoats, the touch sent pleasure exploding through her. Her fingers dug into his shirt, and she leaned her head against his chest, luxuriating in the sensations he was creating.
She could feel his heart pounding beneath her ear, could hear the rasp of his breath. She felt as though she could drown in him, consume and be consumed by him.