by Jenna Jaxon
He returned again, plunging so far within, they must become one. Despite his caution, he reached the pinnacle first, cried out at the exquisite release–made sweeter when she called his name as she shattered. Her flesh embraced him strongly time and again as he reveled in the incredible intimacy he shared with this woman he loved.
Still joined, they collapsed onto the bed. “Ohh, I like your rake’s tricks, Duncan.” Kat’s satisfied tone brought a smile to his lips.
He placed a loving kiss on her shoulder. “And just think, my love, now they are all for you alone.”
Chapter 30
“Considering the beginning of our journey, my love, this final leg of our return has been remarkably without calamity.” Duncan squeezed Katarina’s hand as the carriage drew up before the front door of Dunham House late one afternoon toward the end of August, almost seven weeks after he’d set out with her aboard the Constanza.
It had taken them considerably more time to travel to London than either he or Katarina had expected simply because neither wanted to give up their precious time alone together. They’d tarried at Seaton House for two weeks, exploring the estate and surrounding areas with the carefree abandon of children on holiday. Once on the road, they’d often spent more than one night at an inn they’d fancied, or a morning or afternoon idly stretched out on a blanket beside a picturesque lake or stream or meadow. Never in his life had there been a time more filled with peace, contentment, and love.
“Perhaps we should have sent word of our change in plans, Duncan,” Katarina said. She glowed, with excitement, no doubt, at the prospect of their return. “Everyone will be shocked to see us.”
“I expect so, love.” Duncan assisted her from the carriage. “They will be surprised both at our early return and our insatiable lust for one another.” He leered at his wife, quite unabashed.
“Duncan!” She laughed and slapped his arm in pretended outrage. “Behave. We must send word immediately to Jack and Juliet. She is with your aunt?”
“Yes, and I daresay, already had enough of Aunt Phoebe and wishes herself back at Lady Honoria’s. But perhaps they have their heads together planning the wedding.” Juliet had become engaged to Mr. Sutton just before he and Katarina had sailed. “That would at least distract poor Juliet from Aunt Phoebe’s whining. She’s such a high stickler, we always hated having her visit.” He grinned as a flurry of activity began at the front door.
Grayson opened the door, his mouth dropping open in shock as his master and mistress strode in, arm and arm, laughing and talking together as though they had been happily married for years. Duncan tried to control a smirk. They would be a nine days wonder.
“My...my lord! You have returned? But how is that possible? The letter could not have reached you yet.” Grayson paled as though he thought a ghost stood before him.
“Letter?” Duncan assisted Katarina with the removal of her shawl, which revealed his wife’s plump breasts pushed high by her tight corset. His mouth dried and Grayson’s voice faded from hearing.
“Yes, my lord. The letter concerning Lady Juliet.”
“Lady Juliet?” He swung back to Grayson. “Why would you write to me about Juliet?”
“Because she is missing, my lord.”
The butler’s agitation now became clear. All pleasant thoughts of their homecoming vanished. He grasped Grayson by the shoulders. “Missing! What do you mean? How can my sister be missing?”
The man winced with pain.
“Duncan.” Katarina touched his arm, and he released his butler, who rubbed the injured area, glancing fearfully at him.
In an attempt to marshal a calmness he did not feel, Duncan clenched his fists at his sides. “Grayson, start at the beginning. Why do you say Lady Juliet is missing? Did she not go to stay with Lady Honoria Claypool the day after we left?”
“No, my lord. She did not.”
“Then tell me what happened, man!” he thundered. Juliet, abducted, held for ransom, taken to some God-forsaken house... Like Katarina. Abducted, thrown on the block at Madame Vestry’s and sold to the highest bidder. Oh God.
Duncan held still, concentrating only on breathing. The possibility Juliet had suffered a similar fate blotted out Katarina, Grayson, and the whole of the bustling foyer. The next thing he knew, he was sitting beside Katarina in Juliet’s parlor. A deep breath and his focus cleared–Juliet’s safety depended on his calm command of the situation–which enabled him to ask the most pertinent question. “How long ago?”
“The day after you left, my lord.”
“Christ!” An icy hand squeezed his heart. Katarina looked just as dazed at the news. Her bewilderment steadied him. “What has been done to recover her, Grayson?” Damn it, such neglect was unforgivable! This could mean his sister’s reputation, if not her life. “Tell me that you have contacted the watch, Bow Street...someone?”
“But, my lord...” Grayson’s normally unflinching voice was a slight, subdued whisper. “I did not think it necessary at the time.” The man blanched and looked as if he awaited certain death.
“And why in God’s name not?” Duncan leapt to his feet, making the pendant crystals in the foyer chandelier jangle discordantly in the vibrating air.
“Because she left with the gentleman voluntarily, my lord.”
Duncan lunged at the older man and only his servant’s hasty retreat to the chaise lounge saved him from certain mayhem at his hands. Why would Juliet willingly leave with a man? By Katarina’s shocked expression, she had no explanation for the bizarre statement either. He turned to the servant.
The butler had taken the brief interlude to put more distance between them and stand almost in the doorway.
With an effort, Duncan unclenched his fists. “Come here, Grayson.”
The butler took a few grudging steps into the room.
“Tell me what happened, exactly what happened, that day.”
Some of the servant’s color returned as he began his explanation. “The morning after you and Lady Dalbury left, my lord, Lady Juliet breakfasted, then was to leave for Lady Honoria’s house before noon. Her trunks were packed and in the luggage cart. She’d just finished her tea, when someone rapped on the door. It was a gentleman I had never seen before. I supposed he had come to call on you and I was about to inform him of your departure, when he asked to see Lady Juliet.”
“By name?”
“Yes, my lord. Lady Juliet Ferrers. Those were his exact words.”
“Do you think it could have been Mr. Sutton, Duncan?” Katarina asked, hope stealing into her voice.
“Do you know Mr. Randolph Sutton, Grayson?” Duncan asked
“No, my lord. I have not met the gentleman.”
An ill-conceived elopement would be an answer to his prayers right now. Perhaps that’s why his sister had accompanied the man willingly. “So what did the gentleman look like?”
“He was dressed very fashionably.” Grayson paused. “Perhaps too fashionably, begging your pardon, my lord.”
“A fop?”
“In my estimation, my lord.”
Regretfully, that eliminated Sutton, whose idea of ostentatious clothing was limited to wearing lace at his throat and cuffs, instead of merely the latter.
“Continue. He was tall? Dark or fair?”
“He was much the same height as Lady Juliet. Dark hair and eyes. But the most telling thing, was his accent.”
“Accent?” Duncan’s suspicions took a sudden turn for the worse.
“French, my lord.”
New fear bloomed in his heart. “Christ! St. Cyr!” He jumped up and paced to the window, clenching his hair as he restrained himself from tearing it out by the roots.
“You know him, Duncan?” Katrina asked.
He could not speak, but managed a nod. When he had collected himself, he turned to his wife, who had followed him, her mouth set in grim lines. “I do. He is Philippe Tondereau, Vicomte St. Cyr, the man Juliet was betrothed to.”
“The one Juliet
said left her at the altar?” Katarina’s shocked tone fell heavily on his ears.
“Hardly at the altar. Juliet was here in London with me and he was in Paris. His father sent a letter breaking off the engagement for reasons of propriety.”
“He was not of age?”
“Not then, although I believe he has reached his majority since. I should never have consented to the young pup, but Juliet was quite taken with him and I was being indulgent.” Duncan shook his head at his folly.
“Then it could still be all right? Perhaps when he appeared, Juliet realized she still had affections for him and they have eloped?” Katarina’s hopeful expression struck an icy chord in his heart.
“I will not approve such a match, even if it has taken place.”
“Duncan! Why ever not? Surely it is preferable to having her ruined?” Katarina stared at him as though he had lost his mind.
“After the insults his family heaped upon ours, I will do everything in my power to have any such marriage annulled,” he fumed. “I am her guardian until she is twenty-one, and trustee of her inheritance until she is twenty-five. As of now, she cannot marry without my consent. If he has compromised her, I will see to it he meets my sword without delay.” That cold conviction steadied him. He could deal with St. Cyr most effectively with a blade in his hand. And would enjoy the work.
“But, Duncan, why–”
“Begging your pardon, my lady, my lord,” Grayson interrupted, “but the Frenchman was not the man Lady Juliet left with.”
“What!” They said in unison, and turned to stare at the butler, who was wringing his hands.
“There were two men who called on her that morning?” The events of seven weeks ago were beginning to sound like a Drury Lane farce, though there was nothing remotely amusing about this bizarre situation. “Who was the other man, Grayson?”
“I do not know, my lord. I did not see that gentleman.”
“Grayson, what the hell happened that morning?”
The butler straightened. “After I showed the Frenchman into the parlor, I announced him to Lady Juliet. She seemed shocked when I told her it was a Frenchman, but said she would join him. I immediately sent upstairs for her maid, thinking it best that she have a chaperone. Glynis came down and I showed her into this room, giving her instructions to stay back there by the window, but not to leave her mistress’s side. While I was here, I heard Lady Juliet and the gentleman arguing.”
Duncan leaned forward. “About what, Grayson? What did you hear?”
“He was hard to understand with the accent, my lord, and what he was saying made no sense. Something about a proxy? When he said that, Lady Juliet went still and sat down quite hard on the sofa.”
“Oh bloody Christ!” Rather than hear that news, he would have cheerfully faced a firing squad. “This is my fault.” One hope reared its head. “But what of the other man? Where does he come into this?”
“Just now, my lord.” Grayson nodded. “With Lady Juliet so distraught, I left to find cook to send in some tea laced with brandy. While I was in the kitchen, someone else rapped on the door and Janie, the downstairs maid, answered it. She’s the one who told me about the second gentleman.”
Duncan stared hard into the butler’s eyes. “Get her here now, or I will not be responsible for what I do.”
As the butler hurried out of the room, Duncan returned his head to his hands.
Kat linked her arm with his and leaned her head on his shoulder, seeking to comfort him.
Suspicion that his own folly had led to disaster and ruin for Juliet swelled his heart with misery even his beloved wife could not dispel. And if the maid’s story matched his misgivings, he feared he would once again have cause to kill to save his sister’s honor.
Chapter 31
“What did you mean when you said this was your fault, my dear?” Katarina asked softly.
Duncan sighed. “Last year there was an enormous scandal concerning the Earl of Ferrers. Did Jack tell you about this, my love?”
Katarina nodded. “He told me enough.”
“So you know Juliet and I were tainted with the scandal. Everyone started to avoid us. The scandals kept mounting and I feared word of the whole wretched business would reach her intended. We announced the betrothal to St. Cyr, but he returned to France with his father, a diplomat. I made the somewhat rash decision to request a marriage by proxy be performed in France before the scandal broke there. The Hardwicke Act forbids such weddings in England, but the marriage would be valid if accomplished in France. I sent the proxy with a chaperone and guard to St. Cyr’s father’s estate in Bordeaux.
“With the letter that assured me they arrived safely, however, also came a letter from the old Count. He withdrew his consent for his son’s betrothal, citing the scandals as cause. I revoked the proxy and requested my servants and the substitute bride return home. The servants arrived here, but the proxy, a Frenchwoman named Jeanette Valois, remained. I thought at the time she must have returned to her home. But she may have stayed with St. Cyr. I now fear he may have gone through with the proxy wedding even though I revoked permission when the betrothal was broken.”
He stared out at the room, unseeing. “He may have convinced Juliet their marriage is valid, hoping to then compromise her and force her into a real marriage.”
“Then, who on earth was this other gentleman and why did Juliet leave with him?”
As if on cue, Grayson reappeared with a young girl in tow. Dressed in the customary household blue and white maid’s garb, she scarcely looked fourteen. She gawked as though she thought he would eat her alive, her big eyes and trembling mouth making her appear even younger.
“Don’t be afraid...” Duncan glanced toward Grayson.
“Janie, my lord.”
“Janie. I believe you were hired while I was in Italy, is that correct?” Duncan attempted his most soothing voice.
“Yes, m’lord.” She dipped a curtsy to him and kept her gaze on the floor.
“And you answered the door the day Lady Juliet left the house?”
“Oh, m’lord.” Janie threw a terrified glance at Duncan. “I would never have let him in if I’d known he would make off with her ladyship. Truly, I wouldn’t.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I should have called Mr. Grayson straight away. But the gen’leman what come to the door looked exceedingly well. Turned out beautiful he was, but not so fancy as the first one what come in.”
“And he asked for Lady Juliet by name?” Who in blazes could the mystery caller have been?
Janie’s brows furrowed. “Not by name, no, m’lord.”
“And he gave you no name.”
“No, m’lord. We didn’t get that far ’cause all of a sudden there was a ruckus in this room. Her ladyship raising her voice to the gen’leman in here, saying she could not be married to him because she was already married to someone else.”
Duncan stared at the maid, completely baffled. “She said she was already married?” He met Katarina’s gaze. She looked equally confused. “Why would she say that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, m’lord. But the second gentleman pushed past me and headed into the parlor, I suppose to go to Lady Juliet’s rescue. And she must have known him, for she said clear as day, ‘Here he is, m’lord. Allow me to present to you my husband, John Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Manning.’”
“What!” Again his voice rang with Katarina’s. Duncan whirled around to face the butler. “Grayson! Why didn’t you tell me Manning abducted her?” He turned his glare on Kat, who returned it, unflinching.
“Because I am not sure it was Lord Manning who called that day, my lord. Finish your tale, girl,” Grayson prodded. “Tell Lord Dalbury what the gentleman looked like.”
“Oh, he was a right proper gen’leman, m’lord. In a dark blue coat with lace at his sleeves and a gold waistcoat and fawn colored breeches.” From her tone, Janie’s admiration for the man seemed to be mounting.
“Was he tall? Did he have dark hair or
light?” Duncan watched the girl closely, but she did not hesitate in her recital.
“Tallish, though not so tall as you, your lordship. And rather thin, I would say, though his coat give him a good chest. His hair was light and longish, pulled back in one of them little black bags.” Janie lost her nervousness as she waxed long about the unknown caller.
“That doesn’t sound like Jack,” Katarina said. “His hair is darker than yours. And I can’t recall specific pieces like that in my brother’s wardrobe.” Her face wore an uncomfortable look. “I don’t know whether I want it to be Jack or not. On one hand, I would feel her safe with him, but on the other, what are they playing at?”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think they actually eloped, do you? Jack and Juliet? They spent a good deal of time together after our wedding, but she seemed so excited about being betrothed to Mr. Sutton.” Katarina paled suddenly, and she sat down on the sofa with a thump. “I can’t think why, but I am quite worn out by all this excitement.” A frown of concern marred her usually fresh face. “I can scarcely sit up straight.”
“My dear!” Duncan rushed to her side. “Grayson, prepare the marchioness’s rooms immediately.” He bent to scoop Kat into his arms.
“A moment longer, my lord.” Grayson’s words stopped him. “Janie, tell his lordship the rest of what happened that morning.”
“Well, m’lord, I was standing right here when Lady Juliet called the gen’leman Lord Manning, and he seemed startled, but he bowed and greeted the Frenchman. They had an argument about who the lady was married to and then the Frenchman started speaking in French ever so fast, and Lord Manning answered him back just as quick and let his hand drop to his sword. He looked like he didn’t care a fig for that Frenchman. Then he said something else in French and bowed, and the Frenchman bowed and turned to Lady Juliet and said, ‘This is not the end of this, Juliet. I will return with the papers and make you see reason.’ Then Lady Juliet began to cry and Lord Manning put a hand on her arm and sat her down on the sofa.”