She watched him solemnly, as if waiting for a response.
He should say the words now, but something held him back. “I’ll have to trust you on that one.” He held his breath, sure that she would tear into him for not responding with the words she expected to hear.
But she merely cast him a sad smile, then reached for her gown. “Well, no matter how much I love you—and I do—I hope you intend to stop this kidnapping business. It’s very trying.”
He slumped with relief. Yet he felt like a blackguard somehow. “You don’t know how seriously I considered kidnapping you tonight.” With a scowl, he tucked his shirt tails in his breeches. “Especially when that damned Havering opened his blasted mouth and started talking about taking you home.”
“You wouldn’t really have fought a duel, would you?”
“Should I ever have to fight one, it won’t be with a man who doesn’t even know where to point the pistol.”
“I knew you were bluffing.” She slithered her gown up her body, making his mouth go dry. Then she turned her back to him. “Do me up.”
His hands began to sweat as he did what she asked. By thunder, how could he want her again so soon? Would he ever stop craving her like this? “Boggs will have my head when he sees the condition of my clothes.”
She sighed. “I know. Only think of how long it will take to get all the dirt out. And with you on your knees, too!”
He laughed at her concerns. “I’m sure he’ll manage.”
“But what shall we do when we reach Lady Brumley’s? We both look a fright.”
“Why don’t you disembark in front of the house and sneak from the gallery into some private room, where you can freshen up? I’ll take a turn in the coach, then get out myself and do the same. Somehow we’ll manage to hide it. We have to. I can’t speak to your brother-in-law looking as if I’ve just been making love to you in the carriage.”
“You certainly cannot,” she retorted.
With their plan agreed upon, they finished dressing, doing their best to restore everything to its former condition, although it was damned hard. By the time they pulled up in front of Lady Brumley’s again, he thought they looked relatively presentable.
But before the coach even came fully to a stop, the door was jerked open and a voice boomed, “Out, Templemore! Get out now!”
He groaned. So much for sneaking in. With his heart sinking into his stomach, he climbed out of the carriage to face the one man with good cause to do him harm.
Griff Knighton.
Knighton was more livid than Sebastian had ever seen him. His eyes had the look of a man bent on spilling blood. Lady Rosalind hung on his arm and begged him to watch his temper, but he ignored her entirely.
Beyond her stood Montfort. What the devil was the duke doing out here? No one else seemed to be about.
“I didn’t want to believe it when Montfort told me you’d carried Juliet off,” Griff snapped. “But it’s hard to deny the evidence of my eyes. Juliet, come out this minute.”
Damn Montfort to hell. He must have seen them leave. Sebastian had half hoped he could brazen it out by claiming to be alone. He should have known better.
As Juliet climbed out behind him, Sebastian said, “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I fully intend to marry your sister-in-law. Indeed, we came back here to speak to you and Lady Rosalind about it.”
“Did you?” If Knighton’s gaze had been a sword, it would have sliced him cleanly in half. “And did you also intend to tell me who you really are?”
Sebastian’s blood froze. “What do you mean?”
“God knows I wouldn’t generally countenance anything Montfort says, but under the circumstances—He claims that you are the one who kidnapped Juliet two years ago. You, and not your brother. Is that true?”
To his shock, he heard Juliet say, “How can you believe that beast Montfort? It’s a lie, a fabrication designed to harm me. Sebastian wasn’t the one, and I should know!”
She was defending him, for God’s sake! After all her insistence that he tell the truth, she wanted to protect him.
He couldn’t let her do that. He’d promised her, after all. He turned to cup her cheek. “It’s all right, sweeting. I’m ready to take my medicine. I should have done it a long time ago.” Then he faced Griff once more. “Yes. It was me.”
“But he had a good reason,” Juliet burst out as she tried to push her way between the two men. “You must hear the whole story, Griff. It’s only fair!”
Knighton spared her scarcely a glance as he thrust her aside. “I don’t have to hear a bloody thing. Your mind may be clouded by his seductions, but mine is not.” He cast a steely-eyed gaze on Sebastian. “As for you, sir, we’ll meet at dawn tomorrow at Leicester Fields. Choose your weapon and your second and be there, or I’ll pronounce you a coward with great relish.”
“No!” the two women cried in unison. Lady Rosalind then added, “You mustn’t fight! Be reasonable!”
“Stay out of this, Rosalind,” Knighton growled. “It’s none of your concern.”
“None of my—Curse you, Griff, I think preventing my husband from being killed is entirely my concern. You can’t—”
“Hold your tongue, woman, or I swear I’ll make you hold it!”
Lady Rosalind seemed to know she’d pushed her husband too far, for she snapped her mouth shut. But her eyes flashed mutiny.
Juliet caught Sebastian by the arm. “Say you won’t fight, my love. Tell him you won’t fight!”
He stared down at her, wishing he could have spared her this. “I have to, sweeting. No gentleman refuses a challenge. It’s not honorable. You know that.”
“I don’t care what’s honorable!”
He smiled faintly. “Ah, but I do.”
“You said you didn’t believe in duels! You called it pointless violence!”
“It is. I’d never instigate one. But now that the challenge is made, I won’t refuse it, even if he is your brother-in-law. I’m sorry.” He faced Griff. “I accept your challenge.”
“At least you’re not a coward.” Knighton turned to Juliet. “Come along then. We’re done here. We’re going home.” He took her arm forcibly to lead her to the carriage, which had just pulled up behind Sebastian’s. Apparently, the Knightons had been about to set off after them when he and Juliet had driven up.
“Wait!” Juliet cried. “Give me a moment with him, please!”
Knighton looked as if he might refuse, then nodded tersely.
She broke free to run back to Sebastian. “Oh, my love, why must you only do the right thing when it’s the wrong thing?”
“Habit, I suppose.” He smiled wryly.
She beat her fist against his chest. “Don’t you dare treat this as a joke!”
With an eye toward Griff, who stood by glowering, he lowered his voice. “You needn’t worry about your brother-in-law. I get the choice of weapons, and I’ll choose pistols. That way I can control the outcome, make sure I do little damage. With luck, I can shoot the pistol right out of his hand, and that’ll be an end to it.”
“I’m not worried about him, you fool!” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I’m worried about you!”
He reached up to stroke away her tears. “Don’t. I’ll be fine.”
“You were right to keep the kidnapping a secret. I should never have asked you to tell them!”
“No, you were right. It was just as you said: the longer we waited, the more chance for disaster. It was bound to happen eventually—I was tempting fate.” He forced a reassuring smile to his lips. “But after tomorrow, it will all be over. Knighton will be satisfied, and we can marry.” She looked as skeptical as he felt, but he made himself push her away. “Now go on with your family, and don’t worry, do you hear? It will all work out.”
Knighton said behind her, “Come on, Juliet, let’s go home.”
Sebastian glanced up to see Montfort watching the entire interchange with glee, then said, “Knight
on, a moment of your time, if you will.”
When Knighton approached nearer, Sebastian murmured under his breath, “Unless you want Montfort to treat this as an entertainment and bring all his friends, I suggest you choose another spot for our duel and keep it private.”
Reluctant admiration flashed in Knighton’s eyes. “Very well. Will Wimbledon Common do?”
Sebastian nodded grimly. Then Knighton turned, and gathering the two women, hurried them off to the carriage. A few moments later, they were gone.
All that was left was to deal with Montfort. Sebastian stared up at the scoundrel, wondering how he’d learned the truth. “So you think you’ve won, do you?”
“Me? I’m merely an observer of an interesting family tragedy.”
“Yes, I heard how you ‘observed.’ But you’d better not count on observing anything tomorrow. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Leicester Fields in the morning.”
“You, sir, are in no position to make threats anymore,” Montfort retorted smugly. “And I cannot wait to witness this duel. I hope you both die.” After Montfort retreated into the ballroom, no doubt to find his cronies, Sebastian uttered a sigh of relief. At least he needn’t worry about Montfort showing up at Wimbledon Common.
But as cold reality sank in, he went weak in the knees. At dawn he was fighting a duel, and despite what he’d told Juliet, he wasn’t at all certain that he’d live through it. Knighton would most assuredly shoot to kill.
Climbing into his carriage, he ordered his coachman for home. Devil take Knighton and his temper! If only the man had been willing to sit down and be rational—
He sighed. How could a man be rational when he saw an innocent young relation apparently being mistreated by the same man twice? Knighton wouldn’t have been a man if he’d walked away without a fight.
Sebastian buried his face in his hands. Somehow he must manage the duel so neither of them was hurt. But could he? He had no idea if Knighton had any skill with a pistol.
He hoped not. The only way to save this was if he shot first and disarmed Knighton. Because if he missed…
He’d be dead, that was a surety. Leaving Juliet ruined and alone. And after all that he’d done to destroy her life, he refused to add that to his account.
Chapter 24
Out of some little thing, too free a tongue Can make an outrageous wrangle.
Euripides’ Andromache, worked on a towel for Rosalind by Juliet Laverick at fifteen
A s the Knighton carriage rolled off, Rosalind resolved to keep quiet until she could get Griff alone. But once Juliet hurried into an explanation of how and why Lord Templemore had kidnapped her, Rosalind’s resolution was forgotten, and she asked question after question. At first she was indignant, but as Juliet defended her lover, she found herself softening. She was fascinated. Now this was a tale for the theater!
A pity that her dull husband couldn’t see it. He sat there sullen, like the hot-tempered idiot he was. And by the time Juliet had finished, Rosalind had made a new resolution.
To stop this duel at all costs.
Yes, Lord Templemore had made some foolish mistakes, but certainly no more foolish than the particularly stubborn man who sat stony-faced beside her, acting as if he hadn’t heard a word of Juliet’s explanations. And nothing Juliet said had changed Rosalind’s opinion that his lordship was perfect for her sister.
Now came the difficult part—convincing Griff of that.
Their discussion had lasted the entirety of their trip home, but as they disembarked in front of Knighton House, Juliet kept up her pleading. “You see, Griff? Sebastian did the best he could. How can you fault him for trying to protect his brother? You would have done the same if it had been Daniel.”
“I wouldn’t have lied about it.” Griff stalked into the house. “I would’ve owned up to my mistake afterward and faced the consequences. When we went to Shropshire—”
“We were bent on revenge!” Juliet hastened up the steps after him. “And he knew it, too, after you punched him in the face. So his behavior is perfectly understandable. Can you really fault him for playing it cautiously? He was afraid for his brother!”
“Who consorts with smugglers and pirates—”
“That’s certainly the pot calling the kettle black,” Rosalind muttered under her breath as she followed a little behind.
Halting in the entrance hall, Griff turned to shoot her a bitter glance. “I take it that you find Templemore’s actions ‘understandable,’ too?”
Rosalind squared off against him. “I do indeed. And so would you, if you’d allow your temper to cool long enough to see reason.”
“Griff,” Juliet said, “I love him. I’ll never love anybody else. If you kill him—”
“Oh, he won’t kill Lord Templemore,” Rosalind broke in, staring down her husband. Her voice rose with her fear. “Don’t you remember, Juliet? The very day we arrived in Shropshire, Griff told us of Lord Templemore’s prowess with a pistol, how he ‘hit every target dead center.’ Griff promised then not to challenge him, but apparently he’s forgotten that promise. Suicide by duel seems to be my husband’s present aim.”
Griff’s unwavering gaze grew bleaker than she’d ever seen it. “This discussion is ended, Juliet. I’m fighting your kidnapper tomorrow, no matter how you protest. Now if you’ll please excuse us, I need a few words with my wife.”
“But Griff—” Juliet began.
“Go on, dear heart,” Rosalind said. “I’ll take care of this.”
Juliet stared at them both, then seemed to sense the magnitude of the tension between husband and wife. “Rosalind, come to my room when you’re done, all right?”
“I’ll be there shortly,” Rosalind answered.
Casting them a look of concern, Juliet hurried off up the stairs.
Griff didn’t even wait until Juliet had reached the top. Grabbing Rosalind by the elbow, he hustled her into the drawing room, then shut the door. “If you’re going to argue for that man, then save your breath. I won’t hear a word of it, most especially from you.”
That threw Rosalind off guard. “What do you mean—‘most especially’ from me?”
Turning away, he strode to a chair and gripped the back of it, as if only by holding onto something could he keep from drowning. “I’m not a fool, Rosalind, no matter what you think. I know that you’re a little…enamored of Templemore. But if you expect me to stand by and watch while you let that…that blackguard—”
“Whatever are you babbling about?” Rosalind cut in. “I’m ‘enamored’ of his lordship? Why in God’s name would you think that?”
When he faced her again, he looked lost. “Don’t make it worse by lying about it. I’m not blind. I knew when we left Shropshire that you and Juliet had lied to me about why she pretended to be sick. But I told myself it was just your matchmaking, that it didn’t mean anything. Even though you’d lied about that cottage you obviously went to with him. And despite that time you went riding with him alone before I was awake. Not to mention the whispering in the corners or—” He broke off with a curse. “But when I see him kiss your hand and hear that he’d been to visit you privately this morning…when I see you smile at him or…or praise him or—”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, rousing herself from her stunned silence. “You thought—I can’t believe that you thought…” Her own temper got the better of her. “Why, you…big…idiot!” Striding right up to him, she punched him in the chest.
“Ow! That hurt!”
“Good! You thought there was something between me and Lord Templemore? Templemore, for God’s sake?”
Rubbing the spot where she’d punched him, he eyed her warily. “No! Well…I mean, I know you’d never cuckold me, but—” At the word cuckold, she started to punch him again, and he caught her fist. “I thought you might…you know…have some sort of infatuation for him,” he finished lamely.
She tried to wrench her fist free, but he was having none of that. She g
lared at him. “Curse you, Griff, he was helping me to conceive!”
He gaped at her, then exploded with, “Like hell he was!” Only then did she realize how that sounded. Thrusting her away, Griff headed for the door. “Never mind the duel. I’ll tear the bastard limb from limb!”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” She hurried after him to catch him by the arm. “I mean, he brought me to a healer! In Shropshire!”
That halted him. He turned to stare at her. “Go on.”
She swallowed hard at the look on his face, suddenly reminded of why she’d kept her activities in Shropshire secret from him in the first place. “You refused to let me try any remedies for my condition, remember?” When he just kept scowling at her, she went on hastily, “His lordship told Juliet of a healer who had helped his mother conceive. That’s where Lord Templemore and I were that day we returned together. He and Juliet and I took the sleigh to see his tenant Winifred, a wise woman much known for her skill in these matters.”
“Juliet wasn’t with you that day,” he corrected her, still scowling. “I remember it very well.”
“She was with us before we saw you.” Turning to pace the room nervously, Rosalind explained why Juliet had stayed behind at Foxglen. “Actually, Juliet sneaked back into Charnwood Hall later. That’s when we started the whole sickness pretense—so I’d have a reason to remain at Charnwood and consult with Winnie. Ask Juliet about that day, if you don’t believe me. For that matter, ask Mr. Pryce. Both will confirm it.”
“What about your private meeting this morning?” he demanded.
“He wanted me to help him get her alone so he could propose marriage tonight. And when you saw him kiss my hand at Lady Brumley’s, he was heading off after Juliet.” She stared at him earnestly. “He wants her, you know, not me. To him, I’m only the sister.”
“And the whispering…and the cottage…”
“Lord Templemore pointed out the cottage to us the day we rode to Winnie’s. And the whispering was merely to tell me that Winnie had sent over more herbs.” She colored. “And to…um…ask what to do about you and your complaints about the baths.”
After the Abduction Page 32