She sputtered. “Tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I posted the bans after you left. I foresaw...difficulty.”
“I won’t marry you,” she said.
“How very brave of you to say that.” He smiled. “But nevertheless, the wedding must go on, my dear. There will be no more hindrances.”
“You don’t love me,” she said.
He stared at her. “But my dear, neither do you. You told me that. You see, in matters of love, we are perfectly matched.”
He smirked as outrage surged in Juliet.
“Do you need my dowry?” she asked. “Is that what this is about?”
“My dear, I am a wealthy man. I am pained you do not see that. Perhaps my housekeeper was not sufficiently thorough on the tour of the castle. I must speak to her about that. No, there are other advantages you have.”
She frowned. She’d worked hard on her lessons at finishing school, but she doubted her skills in meal planning and tea pouring could not be found elsewhere. In fact, Juliet had always rather doubted the importance of those skills. Lucas had never once asked her to do some household budgets.
And then Juliet realized it.
Sherwood needed to marry her. Perhaps he thought her presence assured him that Lucas would not want to investigate him longer.
Juliet rose.
Sherwood nodded at someone, and a burly footman strode toward her.
“Make sure she doesn’t leave,” Sherwood said.
The man nodded, as if pleased to have been given an easy task. Heavens, what sort of other tasks had the man had?
Juliet’s heart pitter-pattered oddly. This was all wrong.
“You want your beauty sleep,” Sherwood said. “You want to look nice for the wedding breakfast.”
WHEN LUCAS RETURNED, Juliet was missing. A servant informed him a strange carriage had been nearby, and Lucas rushed to Sherwood Castle.
He stormed into the building, past a surly-looking butler, shouting Juliet’s name.
Finally, he found her, sitting in the drawing room with the Duke of Sherwood.
“Let her go,” Lucas bellowed.
Juliet shot him a look of relief, and Lucas’s heart surged.
“Please do not address my betrothed,” Sherwood said.
“She’s my betrothed now.”
“Ah... In that, I’m afraid, you’re wrong. You’re often wrong.”
“At least I don’t conduct criminal activities.”
Sherwood shrugged. “Yes, you have your crumbling Staffordshire estate and your Mayfair townhouse.”
“It’s not crumbling,” Lucas said hotly.
“But are you going to build new wings? Or are you going to keep things the same?”
Lucas was silent.
“I suspect you don’t have the choice,” Sherwood said smugly.
Lucas seethed. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“I am,” Sherwood said, “because I’m going to marry Lady Juliet. You wouldn’t want to harm her life would you?”
“She’s going to marry me.”
“So you keep insisting,” Sherwood said. “It’s getting quite tiresome. I’d rather hoped you could talk about something else.”
“Nothing is more important than my love for her,” Lucas said staunchly, and Juliet smiled.
Great Olympus, nothing in the world was lovelier than her smile.
“Like nothing was more important than your love for my sister?” Sherwood asked.
Lucas swallowed hard.
“Did you want to protect her as well?”
Lucas’s heart thudded. “She died of pneumonia. It happens. It’s sad and tragic, but I can’t be blamed for that.”
An ugly look appeared on Sherwood’s face, and foreboding moved through him.
“You impregnated her,” Sherwood said.
Lucas’s eyes widened. “I-I didn’t.”
“You made her with child,” Sherwood said, “then you abandoned her.”
“No!” Lucas exclaimed. “I-I didn’t know.”
“You went to France to fight as being a soldier. Are you having a good time pretending to defend the peace now?” Sherwood’s eyes glimmered wickedly. “Are you planning to abandon your wife to go save someone else?” He turned to Juliet. “I assure you, I will make you my top priority.”
“You’re a horrible man,” she said.
“I’ve never killed anyone.” Sherwood jerked his thumb at Lucas. “He killed my sister.”
“I loved her,” Lucas said, his heart aching.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have bedded her.”
“I used a French letter.”
“Clearly it didn’t work.”
“Your sister didn’t die of pneumonia,” Juliet said.
“No, she died attempting to remove the baby.”
“She did that?” Lucas asked in a hollow voice. “Did she want that?”
For a moment, Sherwood’s expression changed, but then it firmed.
“I would have married her,” Lucas said softly.
“We didn’t even know who you were,” Sherwood said.
“She didn’t tell you?”
Sherwood averted his gaze. “It’s hardly believable. Besides, you were in France. My sister couldn’t have a child unwed. It’s obvious.”
“And now she’s dead. You forced her to do that. You didn’t believe her.”
Sherwood winced. “None of this would have happened without you. This is your fault.”
JULIET’S HEART QUAKED.
Lucas shot a last horrified look at them. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“I’ll come with you,” Juliet said.
“No, you won’t,” Sherwood said. “We made an agreement. You promised me you would marry me.”
“Lucas?” Juliet asked, but her voice was soft.
Because she’d seen the look in his eyes. It was a look of no hope, of vacancy, a look she didn’t associate with Lucas at all.
“It will be fine,” Juliet told Lucas.
He shook his head. “She died, because of me. And our—” He glanced at Sherwood.
“...son,” Sherwood said.
Lucas grimaced.
“Did he have a name?”
“Of course not.” Sherwood took Juliet’s arm. “Let’s go. We have much planning to do.”
Juliet squealed as Sherwood yanked her up, but she glanced in Lucas’s direction.
He needed to rescue her. He had to take her from Sherwood.
But the man was silent, stricken, and tears flooded her eyes.
Lucas had loved Honoria, and she’d died, and their son had died.
The thought was too horrible to contemplate.
Tears prickled Juliet’s eyes.
Sherwood glanced at her. “Good idea. Cry now. I want you to look pretty for the wedding.”
“There won’t be a wedding.”
“Of course there will be.”
“I want to go home.”
“Don’t look so sad. You’ll see your parents tomorrow at the wedding.”
“I won’t consent in the ceremony,” Juliet said. “I’ll never marry you! You’ll see.”
“Then we’ll have the ceremony until you do say yes. Because sweetheart, you will marry me. Or would you prefer that I tell everyone about Lucas’s child? About how he didn’t take care of it?”
“How can you say that? He didn’t know. He was young.”
“He shouldn’t have bedded her. There’s always a risk.”
Juliet was silent. “Why did you postpone our wedding?”
He sighed. “I’m busy. I didn’t think you would appreciate my business practices. One of my manservants left abruptly. I wouldn’t want you to leave as well.”
“I’m glad you see me as more valuable than someone who irons your clothes,” she said sarcastically.
He beamed. “Yes, I’m glad you see it that way. With those hips, you’ll birth ample spares.”
Her throat dried. “I don’t want
to do that.”
His face grew serious. “You will do your wifely duties.” His face brightened. “Besides, you’ll want the company.”
Juliet wanted to argue with him more, but it was hopeless. Lucas had seen Sherwood taking her, and he hadn’t done anything. He’d let Sherwood take her.
And heavens, Juliet had made a promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
There was a knock on Lucas’s door, and he groaned and pulled the pillow over his face.
Today was the day Sherwood and Juliet would marry. At the very least, he’d hoped to sleep through the ceremony.
He didn’t need to be imagining Juliet striding down the aisle, he didn’t need to imagine her saying vows, and he didn’t need to imagine Sherwood’s smug reaction.
Not that the horrors would halt with the ceremony. After that, Sherwood would be celebrating with Juliet, and all the guests would congratulate them and comment on the beauty of the ceremony, imagining they might be happy.
His heart pounded. Not that he wanted them not to be happy, he realized. He didn’t desire to wish any unhappiness on Juliet, even if it meant her spending the rest of her life with a vile being like Sherwood.
His heart ached.
A sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted Lucas’s thoughts. “Your Grace, may I interrupt?”
Lucas glanced toward the door. Stanley stood before him. “You already have.”
“Er—yes. I apologize,” Stanley said awkwardly. “However, I thought it vital that you not sleep longer. This is an important day.”
“I know,” Lucas said. “Sherwood and Lady Juliet are marrying.”
“No.”
“No?” Lucas widened his eyes and flung the cover from his body. “You mean they called it off?”
Joy sprang through him.
Stanley frowned. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. Perhaps I misled you. The wedding is still planned.”
Lucas halted. The carpet below his feet felt uncomfortable, even though he’d never noticed that before. His breath stopped, and his chest began to ache, as if all the Frenchmen whom he’d successfully evaded in France were now stabbing him with bayonets.
“You said no,” Lucas said, his voice hoarse.
Stanley shot him a sympathetic look. Lucas wasn’t accustomed to receiving sympathetic looks from his servants. It wasn’t a practice that he entirely approved of, but now he swallowed hard.
Everyone knew everything.
Everyone knew he’d loved Juliet, and everyone knew she was marrying a different man.
Why hadn’t Honoria told him she was expecting a child? Nausea touched the back of his throat.
“There’s still time to stop the wedding,” Stanley said.
Lucas stared at him. “I can’t do that.”
“I took the liberty of getting your carriage prepared. It’s waiting outside with the groom. After you leave the wedding with Lady Juliet, I suspect that you will want to put as much distance between the Duke of Sherwood and yourself as possible.”
“E-Excuse me?”
“A jilted man can act irrationally, but given Sherwood’s general proclivity toward anger, one can suppose that that is a potential reaction from him.”
Lucas’s jaw dropped open.
“Now, Your Grace, though I have no doubt that Lady Juliet will be pleased to see you, I suspect she would prefer to see you in proper clothes. Her friends and family might already call her mad for leaving the wedding, and I would not like to further that impression by having her disappear with a man wearing a nightshift and nightcap.”
Lucas tore the cap off quickly, and his cheeks warmed. “I don’t understand what is happening.”
“What is happening, Your Grace, is the beginning of the rest of your life. You’ll find it will be happier if you begin life with the right woman.”
“And Lady Juliet is the right woman.”
“Indeed, Your Grace. Allow me to congratulate you on your exceptional taste.”
Lucas smiled. “Well, that honor goes to Lady Juliet. She’s the exceptional woman.”
“Quite,” Stanley agreed, unclothing Lucas matter-of-factly and attiring him in his best clothes. Finally, he beamed. “You look rather proper now as well.”
“Thank you, Stanley.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” Lucas asked. “My love life isn’t one of your duties.”
Stanley smiled. “I’ve been impressed with how well you’ve been handling the case.”
Lucas blinked and drew back. “I don’t know what you’re speaking about, Stanley. I’m a botanist.”
“Then I might suggest a more fulfilling career, more suitable to your talents. I won’t, though, because you’re already doing something quite worthy.”
Lucas’s throat dried, and he was silent as Stanley continued to dress him.
“It’s quite alright, Your Grace,” Stanley said. “I was the person who wrote to Whitehall of my concerns in the first place.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A gentleman’s gentleman is valued by the elite, though typically for his skills at maintaining clothes. I am afraid I am no exception to this.”
Lucas shot him a wobbly smile. “But how did you know that Sherwood was running a counterfeit operation?”
“Ah. I was his manservant before you.”
Lucas blinked.
“You didn’t wonder why you were able to find a manservant at such short notice? One familiar with this area?”
Lucas widened his eyes.
“Obviously, I could not continue to work for the Duke of Sherwood. I’m afraid I was not an excellent manservant to him. Betrayals are not typically well-received by one’s employer, but I made an exception for him.”
“You’ve been a very good manservant to me, Stanley.”
Stanley smiled and inclined his head. “Very good of you to say, Your Grace. I have appreciated your efforts at fulfilling justice and not disturbing the peace of this region. We Cumberlandians do not appreciate criminal activity on our land.”
Lucas smiled back. “A good instinct, Stanley. A good instinct indeed. But why did you not tell me of your knowledge?”
Stanley shrugged. “I was hesitant to point my finger too directly at Sherwood. My past warnings were unsuccessful, and the operation had grown larger. I was worried my concerns might be dismissed by you as coming from a disgruntled servant. After all, both you and Sherwood are dukes.”
“We’re very different people.”
“I see now,” Stanley said agreeably, tying Lucas’s cravat knot.
“You were Sebastian’s contact.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Lady Juliet was going to be there?”
“Naturally not,” Stanley said. “Lady Juliet herself did not know she would be there. I was quite taken aback when her driver came and said highwaymen had captured his charges.”
“They were concerned for my friend.”
“A very good quality, Your Grace. Yes, you and Lady Juliet will make an excellent couple. I would be quite distressed if she were to marry Sherwood. He’s rather wanting in good qualities.”
“Thank you, Stanley.”
“Only the truth, Your Grace.” Stanley smoothed Lucas’s hair.
“Are you decent, Lucas?” Sebastian asked.
“I’m flummoxed,” Lucas said. Sebastian chuckled and strolled into the room. He was dressed in his best clothes, even though he favored casual things that made removing his attire for swimming easier.
Lucas shot him a startled look, and Sebastian smiled.
“Stanley decided you would appreciate more sleep.”
“It’s a long way to Gretna Green,” Stanley declared.
Sebastian nodded knowledgeably. “But no need to worry, Stanley has also had Cook pack some food for you.” He leaned closer. “Including some cake and celebratory brandy.”
“How nice,” Lucas said, his voice at an unusually higher pitch. Breathing seemed a more cumbe
rsome task than normal, and his head spun. “But I must confess, I don’t understand.”
“It’s all quite simple,” Sebastian said. “You love Juliet, and she’s going to marry a different man.”
Lucas frowned. “That is no reason for celebratory brandy.”
Sebastian stepped toward him. “Look, you must give her another chance to choose you. You must tell her you love her.”
“And if she says no?”
“Then, you’ll find that the cake and brandy work quite well as a consolation. And you’ll appreciate the carriage. Sherwood might be quite angry if you try to ruin his wedding.”
“After what I did to his sister...”
Sebastian’s gaze became soberer. “You were seventeen then. Honoria was two years older than you. And you didn’t know she was with child. Horatius shouldn’t have forced her to destroy it.”
“But if I hadn’t left—” The now-familiar pain swelled through his body. He’d impregnated Honoria, then he’d left.
“You didn’t know,” Sebastian said again. “Had you known, I’m certain you would have acted differently.”
Lucas nodded.
“You’re a good man,” Sebastian said. “Juliet will be lucky to have you.”
Lucas glanced at the grandfather clock in his room. It was almost ten. “Damnation, I must go.”
Sebastian grinned and followed him down the stairs. “Goodbye, Stanley!”
“Good luck, Your Grace!” Stanley called.
Lucas hurried up the steps of the carriage, and Sebastian squeezed in beside him. The driver started immediately: evidently, Stanley had briefed him well.
The carriage hastened from Lucas’s cottage. The landscape blurred, and Lucas’s heart thumped.
THE DAY WAS THE SORT of day brides dream about for their weddings. Fluffy white clouds sailed over the sky at regular intervals, shifting shapes as if to occupy even the most nervous flower girl from dwelling on her impending task of scattering rose petals.
Juliet ignored the uneven beating of her heart. Perhaps her heart would always become unsteady at the thought of Sherwood, or perhaps marriage with him would simply numb it, so with time, she would forget she had a heart at all.
My Favorite Duke (The Duke Hunters Club Book 2) Page 17
