She Ruined the Marquess: A Historical Romance (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Anna Macy

  Dinner was a quiet event. Juliet was able to procure a seat by Marian, who was still eyeing her suspiciously and was lucky enough to have Lady Eloise seated on the other. The older woman left Juliet alone about the curiosity of whether she was or was not engaged with William.

  She proved to be a fantastic dinner guest, her throaty voice dominating much of the conversation on their end of the table.

  It turned out that she completely besotted with her husband. Together they had one son, Andrew, who was now almost seventeen. They were well acquainted with William’s family as their townhome in London directly abutted the Mansfield Park dwelling. It was clear that young Andrew was William’s biggest fan, even though Juliet wasn’t sure that William knew that at this point.

  Marian was unusually quiet during Eloise’s chatter, and Juliet let her hand drop to her friends’ knees to give her a comforting squeeze. The friendly other woman regaled them of stories from London and the insanity, it seemed, of raising a vivacious son.

  Marian had spent years engaged to the man she claimed was the love of her life, a Mr. Theodore Conning. As the youngest son of a Viscount, he had decided to take on a commission and choose the soldier's life, promising that as soon as he was an officer, they would be able to begin their life together.

  Marian had waited patiently, totally devoted to her beloved soldier while he was abroad. Only to find that when he returned to England, he had another woman on his arm and his ring on her finger. Marian had been devastated.

  She had met Juliet just last winter at the theater when her family and Juliet had shared a box. Marian was scrounging up gossip for her blossoming friend group, and Juliet had been invited by her mother to make a rare appearance away from Greystone.

  They had bonded between ballads, instantly friends as Marian fought through her heartbreak, and Juliet tried to drag herself through a society still fixated on her mother’s antics from years ago.

  Juliet could tell that Eloise meant no harm in her stories, but there were still moments like this one that she could tell her friend was overwhelmed. She was now two and twenty, and Juliet knew that she wished to contribute a family story of her own, as the other women in the vicinity were doing, but she had nothing yet to offer.

  Juliet assured her that someday a man would sweep her off her feet and give her the love she deserved. But Marian remained unconvinced, always claiming that love was never guaranteed and that she had missed her chance.

  Staring at Marian’s twitching fingertips on the bright white table linens, Juliet felt such deep sadness for her friend. Sure, her engagement had gotten a bit turned around this week, but she still had a fiancé waiting to marry her. Marian didn’t know what her future held, and while the Devonshire estate would never leave her destitute, it was different from what she had dreamed of for herself.

  When they had first gotten to know each other, Juliet had begged Marian to join her this spring for all the most significant events and all the most prominent parties that season. Robert had been hiding somewhere in the West Indies, William had been dutifully mourning his father, but Nicholas had stepped up and been a top-notch escort for both ladies. Juliet had immediately adored the slim, charismatic man who had known the Devonshire family for over ten years.

  After dinner, the ladies found their way to the parlor, and the males seemed to flock elsewhere for their late-night drink. Juliet hung back, hoping to run across William. Seeing the empty hall and deep male voices inside disappointed her. She had missed her chance for tonight.

  Turning to make her escape to her chambers, she bumped straight into a wall made of dark wool. The now-familiar scent of sandalwood washed over her senses. Her hands flew up to catch herself, and easily a pair of large hands caught them. Suddenly those silvery blue eyes were just inches from her own. Swallowing hard, Juliet meant to step back, but the firm, gentle grip of his hands on her wrists encouraged her to stay where she was.

  Her eyes searching his stony face, Juliet wet her lips. “I meant to ask you earlier. Did you speak with Robert? About everything?” She said, going straight into the subject. William seemed surprised at the question, and she noticed a jump in the pulse of his throat.

  “I did,” he answered, and Juliet felt the words rumble beneath her chest where they were still loosely entangled. She didn’t know how to go on, how much it meant to her that she hadn’t ruined his friendship with her stupidity. Her eyes watered, stupidly tearing up at the stresses that the past day had brought out. All of which were her fault.

  A hand slipped from her wrist, and she felt gloved fingers under her chin, forcing her to look into his face again. William’s face had softened, and the small crease around his eyes deepened as he gave her small, secretive smile.

  “Robert and I have been through much worse than ruining his future bride’s scandalous plans,” he said.

  That got a chuckle from her, and she smiled up at him. They were so very close now. She was mere inches from his lips, and it would be nothing to press her mouth against his. For a minute, those silver eyes went dark again, and everything in her body went tight in response.

  Other parts of her body were aware of the change in the atmosphere too. She could feel a warm, tingling pressure in her stomach as it traveled south, making her breath short in her lungs and her fingers tight against his chest.

  His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he breathed in sharply through his nose. A small shake of Williams' head began to pull away slowly. Juliet didn’t break his gaze until he had stepped back from her, and when she did, she felt the need to rub her hands against her body. The air was chilly against her overheated body and mind.

  Giving a slight bow, William went to move around her. As he passed her, though, it was his hands that betrayed him, as his fingers brushed softly over her arm as he passed. Juliet turned slightly to watch him walk away, her mind filled with the feel of him against her body.

  At the entry to the library, William turned and looked over his shoulder to her. An earnest, open expression on his face. “It’s going to be okay, Juliet.” Then he ducked in, leaving a befuddled Juliet starring after him.

  She prayed he was right.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The first thing on Juliet’s mind the next day was the Marquess of Mansfield Park. She felt consumed by him as images raced across her mind, distracting her.

  Covering her now hot face with a pillow, Juliet wallowed in her risqué thoughts. When she had thought up the plan to sneak into Robert's room and seduce her then-fiancé, she had known it would be tricky. She never guessed it would end with her being entangled with another man. Let alone the intoxicating Marquess of Mansfield Park.

  He was everything that intimidated her about the ton. Yes, handsome, painfully handsome, but more than that. He was educated, cultured, and experienced. In more ways than one, she was sure.

  His cutting looks and stony expression had conflicted entirely with the warm, passionate man who she had conned into kissing her in her nightgown that first night. But still, she didn’t know which mood made the man.

  Was he the tall and broody nobleman who kept her at a distance and was worried about scandalizing her reputation? Or was he the fiery, seductive man who had pressed her against the walls of the Duke’s parlor?

  Juliet let her fingers trail down her arm, remembering how it had felt to be entwined around William’s body. She had enjoyed touching him just as much as being touched by him, and she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d get the chance again.

  Perhaps this relationship wasn’t such a doomed match. Physically they seemed to be very well matched, and Juliet was more than happy to continue her education into what William wanted from marriage.

  As for the emotional side, Juliet could only pray that it would come in time. Marian had mentioned the chaotic upbringing that William had experienced, that his parents had never got along, not even for the sake of their son.

  Juliet understood William’s hesitation about marriage. But in her heart, she
knew that she craved being a part of a family. Juliet straightened her shoulders and sat up in bed.

  The bottom line is that regardless of being kicked out of Greystone due to the scandal or married hastily to William, anything would be better than living another year under her stepfather’s painfully strict rule.

  Even thinking of him now chilled her to the bone. Her father had been a good, kind man devoted to championing Greystone's historic heart through the dynamic industry changes of the early nineteenth century. His death haunted her every time she looked out over Greystone’s crumbling estate or the pain of watching another man steer the family straight into ruin.

  Juliet wanted a chance to start over. There had been plenty of interest from the eligible bachelors of the ton when she had come out in society this spring at age nineteen. Still, after attending only a few weeks of events and parties, her step-father had decided that Juliet had had enough of town life for the summer.

  They had immediately retreated to Greystone, and again, Juliet had been seconded to the country's solitary life. Far from any chance of securing her future husband. Letters to Marian had been the only solstice. That and riding horses, which always brought her great pleasure. Her father had been a quality horseman, and she had grown up astride some of the most excellent horses in all of England.

  Although Marshall had let the stables fall to the wayside since his marriage to Juliet’s mother, there were always one or two nice riding horses on the property. Juliet’s favorite was her father’s treasured stud, Winsome, who, even in his teenage years, was always ready for a gallop along the tree-lined paths that crisscrossed Greystone’s vast property.

  Juliet missed the enormous chestnut stallion, one of the only creatures on the property who welcomed her presence. Her mother and Marshall were often gone, attending parties in town, or vanishing to visit friends for long periods.

  Earlier this month, when Marian had written saying that she had convinced Nicholas to host a monumental end of summer ball at Lakeview, Juliet had jumped at the chance to attend. Her mother had been surprisingly supportive in not only Juliet attending but arriving early to help with final preparations.

  Nicholas had been raised by his grandfather, the Duke, as Arthur Euston preferred to be called. The Lakeview property was largely empty, especially now with his two older brothers, the heir and a spare, living elsewhere.

  The past week had been a riot. The young women were working every day with the Lakeview staff to polish, preen, and prepare for the ball and the events leading up. Juliet went to bed exhausted but happier than she had been in years.

  Depending on the guest’s proximity to the country manor, many would arrive and stay on-site until the ball itself. Nicholas proved that he was a charming, contentious host, happy to jump in and lend a hand. Still, he was a bachelor and was quick to find Juliet or Marian when faced with a particularly difficult decision like linen colors or floral arrangements.

  Juliet guessed that his staff had welcomed the pair of women who had come in charging, arriving just two weeks before the ball was set to begin and brimming with ideas. Marian had come alive in this task, her laughter infectious as the women sampled the wide variety of dessert items with Cook and becoming a gentle but firm leader in their little party planning crew that developed.

  Juliet was glad Marian took the lead; her friend hadn’t been herself since her heartbreak last year. It seemed like here, in the lush English countryside, Marian was finding some peace in her efforts.

  Juliet and Marian spent days pouring over party details and late nights discussing the gossip that came out of the ton. Slowly more guests began to arrive, starting with Lady Catherine.

  Marian’s mother and youngest sister had been in London prepping their townhouse for the change in season. Laura, the youngest Devonshire daughter, had gotten a cold; she opted to stay at the townhouse and continue recovering. At only thirteen, Laura wouldn’t have been able to dance or attend much of the ball anyway.

  Marian had told Juliet that she imagined her younger sister was glad to be left alone. The girl much-preferred books and walks around the London museums than she did ballgowns and stiff dinner conversation. Lady Catherine was dutifully horrified at her youngest’s preferences but doted on her last child every chance she got.

  During one of their planning sessions, Marian had let it slip to Juliet that she had heard Robert discussing the possibility of delaying his wedding a year with his father. Juliet knew that Robert was overwhelmed by the onset of so many responsibilities, but she couldn’t budge for her own reasons.

  Another year unmarried meant another year listening to her mother and Marshall demeans her and another year of witnessing Greystone's purposeful decline. It would crush her.

  Marian had jumped at the chance to help her friend. Robert just needed a little encouragement, they decided. Marian had written to him, demanding he celebrate the end of the summer event. No excuses, she had written.

  He had arrived shortly after, skillfully managing to avoid Juliet and spending most of his days with Nicholas. They routinely disappeared to the stables or into the woods to scout for potential hunting spots. When Juliet, at her wit's end, had finally gathered her wits about her and decided to act, it had turned into a mess.

  And now she was hopelessly entangled with William Huntington. Who would’ve guessed when she left Greystone that all of this would transpire? Not her, that much was certain.

  She had to admit that while Robert was quite good-looking, he had not made her body and mind go wild the way William had. Even when she had kissed William that first night, thinking he was Robert, she had been delighted to find herself powerfully attracted to the man.

  When William had thrown back the curtains to reveal himself in the moonlight, dark, deliciously rumpled, a small part of her had whispered, that makes sense in her head.

  Shaking her head against her pillow, Juliet forced herself to climb from the bed. Although it was barely dawn, she was drawn to her window.

  Her father had been a morning person, always out to supervise and handle the horses that were his love. She used to crawl out of bed in the dewy mornings to join in. Now it was ingrained in her. Juliet’s favorite part of the day was the quiet mornings she spent on her own, unhindered by societal agendas or her mother’s quarreling.

  Today, the air's coolness created a beautiful and mysterious mist that seemed to rise to encompass all that passed through it. Juliet had selected this chamber for many reasons, but primarily because she was so close to the main staircase, so she could continue her habits while here with Nicholas and Marian.

  Now that there were a few more quests, she felt hesitant. Would she wake anyone? After waffling a bit, Juliet strode over to her wardrobe, where Amelia had left out a deep navy riding habit for her the night before.

  After years in the Greystone service, Juliet knew Amelia would not be up this early, and she didn’t mind. It was nice to have a moment with her thoughts. It was easy to dress, and she left her riding boots off until she had tiptoed her way down the carpeted stairs, remembering how just the night before she had descended these stairs feeling like a wayward princess. She shook her head. How different life already seemed.

  William had looked breathtaking when he arrived at the bottom stair, taking her hand in his, lending her his strength as they walked through the crowd of staring eyes. Together she had felt like they could conquer anything.

  Slipping through the kitchen and down the still misty path to the stables, she met up with Edmund, the head groom at Lakeview. After her arrival, Juliet had gone to Edmund, begging for a mount to ride during her stay.

  The short, plump faced man had taken his hat off at her first arrival, bowing low while he listened to her request as well as an explanation of her riding abilities. The next morning, he had greeted her with a slender, older grey speckled mare named Rosalie, who was pretty, but not the forward, eager ride Juliet preferred.

  Juliet had not pressed the issue, but as she
returned the horse she borrowed each day, Edmund offered her another ride with another with a bit more blood. Now, over a week into her stay at Lakeview, she knew when she arrived in the stables, there would be a lovely charger waiting for her to jump astride. Not that she minded a ladylike stroll through the gardens with Rosalie, but there was nothing like a strong gallop in the early morning air to clear your mind.

  Stepping into the stable, she spotted Edmund hurrying down the hall. Juliet immediately smiled at the man, her fondness for him radiating into the dimly lit morning. Edmund gave a shy smile but immediately set his face downward in a scowl.

  “My lady, I had an idea earlier, but I’ve changed my mind,” he muttered, slapping his cap against his thighs as he looked up at her anxiously—Juliet’s brows lowering as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.

  “What idea is that, Edmund?” She asked sweetly. Edmund’s ruddy cheeks glowed at her casual use of his name.

  “A new horse got here yesterday. He’s a real beaut,” Edmund said, his voice flustered.