The woman who had banished them from the pub swatted him with a dishrag. “Back off, Tully. These ain’t your girls.”
“We should be going.” Juliana backed away. “Sorry for taking up your time.”
The woman only snorted, returning back to her work.
Juliana and Patience hurried out of the cramped pub. As they moved to the street, Tully followed close behind. Patience whimpered, moving closer to Juliana’s side.
“I don’t like that man,” Juliana hissed as she frantically scanned the streets for the hackney.
It was nowhere to be seen. Panic raked at her chest. Constricted her throat.
Her palms broke into a sweat when Tully shoved himself between them, wrapping arms around their shoulders. “You’ll fit right in with my girls.” His sneer deepened with a lustful look. “I have many customers who would be mighty pleased. Mighty pleased, indeed.”
Juliana swatted him away. “Don’t you lay a finger on us again.”
Tully’s grin only grew. “Be a good girl, now.”
His hand locked around Juliana’s wrist, letting go of Patience altogether.
A scream ripped from her throat, but a hand grabbed Tully’s front, pulling her out of his grasp. In an instant, Juliana watched in horror as a fist smashed into his nose. Tully stumbled back with a filthy curse.
Juliana rounded on their rescuer, her eyes landing on Peter. His blue eyes were ablaze like never before, as fury darkened his features. They snapped to Juliana, making her heartbeat quicken.
“Are you unharmed?” His voice was low and furious.
She shook her head mutely as the fear ebbed away, replaced with despondency. Patience whimpered at her back, clutching her arm.
Peter turned his focus back on Tully, tightening his fists. He bent, hauling Tully upright, then punched him again across the jaw. “Crawl back to the hellhole you spawned from. “Fire raged in his dark eyes, and Juliana thought he might kill the man.
Tully moaned, clambering to his feet. His nose bleeding profusely. With another curse, he jogged away, disappearing down the dark alley.
“Peter,” Juliana breathed with relief.
“Is he here?” Peter asked, the anger not yet dissipated. “Walter Longman?” he asked again when no answer came.
“No.” Patience quietly stepped in.
An ache settled inside Juliana’s chest as she took in Peter’s disheartened expression. He could barely look at her. Peter set his jaw, twisting at Patience’ words. “There was foul play here tonight. Make haste—I cannot stand the stench of the place.”
He led them to the carriage he must have hailed soon after receiving her note. He helped them inside, averting eye contact with Juliana. A slight tremor shook his hands as he rushed them inside. She’d never seen him so angry. He would never forgive her for this.
“I’m so sorry, Peter.” Patience broke down, trembling, her hands twisting her dress until it was a crumpled mess. “Walter would never put me in harm’s way. Walter wouldn’t—”
“If that man is indeed responsible for tonight, he will pay dearly.” Peter’s voice was low as his gaze fell on Juliana. She squirmed, finding no warmth in his glare. “What were you thinking, Juliana? Marching into the east end unaccompanied, at dusk? I thought you’d know better.”
Juliana was still shaken from their encounter with Tully, and now tears pricked at her eyes. “I was worried about you,” she flung back. “The letter said—”
“Hang the letter,” Peter shot back, his growl growing louder. “You always do this! You fantasize about saving the day without giving a thought for yourself. It will be your ruin. My ruin—” he trailed off, taking his fingers to the bridge of his nose, calming his breaths.
Juliana clamped her mouth shut, scowling out the window. He was right. She knew he was. The thought brought little comfort. She’d just irrevocable damaged her relationship with him. His reaction to their safety solidified the knowledge that he was forming an attachment to her friend.
Peter wasn’t finished. “Both of your reputations could have been blemished, even destroyed tonight. I don’t care what the bait is—swear to me you’ll never set foot on London’s streets without a proper escort, Juliana.”
She bit at her tongue, frustrated with herself. Frustrated that Peter had to chastise her yet again.
“Juliana.” Peter’s voice was low, a warning.
She forced herself to look at him, although heated shame crept up her neck as she said the words he wished to hear. “I swear.”
Peter looked to Patience. “Do you have the letter on your person?”
Shaking, Patience retrieved the letter and handed it over to him. He scanned its contents. “Deplorable,” his voice sliced through the thick tension. “I will have a word with Mr. Longman first thing tomorrow.”
“Please do not be hard on him,” Patience pleaded.
Peter scowled. “He has put you in danger. He must be dealt with properly.”
The rest of the ride was endured in silence. As Patience was dropped home, she gave Juliana a tight hug before leaving the carriage. “I’m so sorry,” she choked.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I encouraged you, as always. I make a very poor friend.”
“No.” Patience drew away. “You are one of the best friends I have ever had.” She offered Juliana a shaky smile before turning, letting Peter help her out of the carriage.
He walked her to her door, taking her hand in his and leaning into her as he mouthed something she could not hear. Juliana closed her eyes after she witnessed Peter bending a kiss Patience’s hand. Tears squeezed out, falling to her ruined dress. She pulled her control in when Peter hauled himself inside. She opened her eyes, the carriage jolting forward. She sucked in ragged breaths as her eyes fell on his.
Peter sighed heavily, swiping a hand down his face. “Juliana, I’m sorry. I was too hard on you.”
She held out a hand. “Stop!” She drew out her words carefully. “I deserved every word. I am a fool. I doubt I’ll ever return to London again for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
Peter didn’t respond, and Juliana felt disgrace flare in her chest. Losing Peter would be hard enough, knowing the shame he felt over her was even worse, but she would not let him pity her. She bit her lip to hold back her tears. The shock of the recent events, the fear and confusion, they all crashed on her. She held her breath, longing for solitude so she could release the tension with a cleansing cry.
“I wanted to kill that man back there,” Peter said quietly.
Juliana kept her gaze fixed on the window, knowing that if she looked at Peter, she would lose control altogether.
Peter reached for her hand and she was proud for a brief moment that she didn’t flinch away. He held it in both hands, continuing. “I came as fast as I could when I received your note. I was so worried—Juliana, I thought the worst. I thought I had lost you.”
She clenched her jaw. She would not cry. Peter did not let go of her hand until they reached her temporary residence. He helped her down from the carriage and she was careful not to look him in the eyes.
“May I walk you to the door?” Peter asked gently.
Her heart constricted, wanting this evening to be over. “You may,” she rasped.
He cradled her hand in the crook of his arm, guiding her to her uncle’s home. The polite veneer he added was bitter, catching in her throat. When they reached the steps, Juliana fixed her gaze on the ground. “Thank you.” She strained to say the words. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched him clench his fists. “It was lucky you left me the note.”
She nodded absently. “Good night, Peter.”
She turned to hurry inside, but he caught her by the arm, giving her pause. She turned back, still not meeting his gaze. He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to see him. His familiar warmth had replaced his anger. “Please forgive me if I have offended you. I am glad you ar
e safe—Juliana.”
He took her hand in his and bent, gently pressing his lips to the back of it, lingering longer than accepted. Heat rose to her cheeks, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.
He straightened and bowed. “Good night.”
She watched him walk away until her vision blurred. She quickly entered the house, closing the door behind her. She leaned her back against it, against the outside world. Closing her eyes, she let the tears fall unabated.
Chapter Sixteen
Peter caught the first carriage to Lincoln's Inn, rage quietly twisting inside his gut the whole way there. He found out where Mr. Longman was staying after Juliana had roped him into spying on the man.
Peter was going to get to the bottom of what transpired last night, and why. Either Walter Longman had been spiteful, dimwitted, or used for ulterior motives. What those motives could be, Peter hadn’t a clue. Perhaps Walter had offended someone who wanted to harm him indirectly, by causing harm to the woman he loved.
It was all a big mystery, and Peter was determined to get to the bottom of it.
He strode through the entrance, not stopping as he passed young bucks who looked just out of University and turned down the hall filled with offices, scanning each door for a plaque that read Mr. Lohman’s name.
He found it shortly, the wooden plaque tacked to the oak door. Peter rapped at it loudly, hoping it came across as authoritative. He waited, listening, and was satisfied when he heard the scrape of a chair and footsteps padding to the door.
It opened, and Peter found himself face-to-face with a man, who blinked in surprise.
“Can I help you?”
“That remains to be seen,” Peter growled, watching the other man’s eyebrows draw together with confusion.
“Do come in,” Walter offered, pulling the door wide and stepping aside. Peter strode through the door and entered the office, taking in the small space. A little desk covered in stacks of parchment was placed under a window so small, Peter wondered why anyone bothered to put it there at all.
“Please, be seated.” The man gestured to a chair. His voice was calm, soothing, though still guarded. It didn’t mean he wasn’t guilty.
Peter took the offered chair and waited while the man seated himself behind his desk, clasping his hands in front of him. He had a long, handsome face with chiseled cheekbones and a full mouth. His dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. His dark brown eyes watched Peter cautiously, curiously.
“What can I help you with? I am very busy today; you best make it quick.”
“Are you Walter Longman?”
A light seemed to go off in this man’s eyes. His countenance changed to anger before being tucked behind a wall of indifference. Interesting.
“Patience Hawthorne received a letter from you yesterday,” Peter started, unable to banish the edge to his voice. “Do you deny you sent her a letter?”
Walter frowned. “I do deny it. I’ve not talked to that lady for a while. Since—” He stopped mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. “I cannot be bothered by Miss Patience’ fickle heart. If you are here because you think I am trying to steal her away from you, be rest assured, Miss Patience Hawthorne has long been banished from my heart.” His new icy tone caused Peter’s hairs to stand on end.
So, he hadn’t received a letter from Patience yet, and his hard reserve meant he still loves her, yet cannot forgive her for not going through with a wedding.
He tried a new tactic, calling Walter’s bluff. Peter pulled the letter from his waistcoat pocket, opening it up and placing it on the desk. “You requested her to meet you at the east end to speak with her. About a case you were involved in that concerns me.”
Walter shook his head, his frown deepening. “You are mistaken.”
Peter tapped his finger on the parchment. “Have a look yourself. I have proof. You cannot deny it.”
Walter took his eyes to the letter, his icy stare turning to concern as he snatched it up, scanning its contents, his eyes widening. They darted back to Peter. “Did she go?” He demanded. “To the east end? Is she alright?”
Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Walter. He seemed genuinely concerned, but was it an act?
“She did go. I arrived just in time. She’ll be alright.”
Walter let go of a shaky breath as he glanced down at the letter. His hand trembled. “I did not write this,” his voice lowered. “It is not even my handwriting, look.” He reached for a stack of parchment, shoving them at Peter. “These are all correspondence I’ve written in the past month. Go ahead, take a look.”
Peter reached for the stack, taking a cursory glance at them. He clenched his jaw. The handwriting was decidedly sloppier, nothing like that of the letter.
“And look.” Walter drew a fresh piece of parchment from his desk, dipping a pen in ink. “I’ll write for you now.” As he scribbled words, Peter could already tell the handwriting was vastly different.
Walter handed the newly written words to Peter. He glanced at the sentence. You can’t tell me I’ve written that letter. I would never put Patience in harm’s way. No matter the harm she’s done to my heart.
“I believe you.” Peter breathed in relief that Patience’ former love wasn’t psychotic. He took the letter, folding it into his pocket again. “But who did?”
Walter’s features became dark. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to harm Miss Patience. What could have been the motive?” He winced as if someone had slapped him. “Goodness—she believes I sent that letter. She thinks I put her in harm’s way. She thinks—”
“I will explain our findings to her,” Peter promised. He stood. “I need to get to the bottom of this. You have no idea who could have written this?”
Walter shook his head, also standing. “None.”
Peter sighed. “If you think of anything useful, reach out to me immediately.”
“Perhaps the letter was intended to harm you and not Miss Patience. Your intentions to her have been written in all of the gossip columns.” Walter scowled.
Peter’s eyes widened. Shock rushing through him. Walter was right. This letter was intended to harm him! And the culprit nearly succeeded. If he’d lost Juliana, he would have never recovered. “I will inform you if I have any news, thank you for your help, I think you might have hit upon something.”
Peter turned to leave, stepping out of the office before having a reckless thought. He faced Walter again. “Patience still—”
Walter interrupted him. “I thank you for giving me this information. I shall do my best to uncover the mystery, but I have a mountain of work ahead of me and cannot waste my time on something that no longer concerns me. Good day.” Walter slammed the door in his face.
Shock rippled through Peter. He had never been treated so poorly in his life. He was about to foist himself in on Walter and force the information upon him but thought better of it. Walter deserved to hear the truth from Patience. Peter could not blame the man; he knew the torture of knowing the woman he loved was intended for another. Time could not wait any longer, he must release himself from their scheme, so he could find out for himself where Juliana’s heart truly lay.
Chapter Seventeen
Peter had to tell Patience what he had learned of the letter—and her parents had to be informed that Patience would withdraw her courtship of him.
He wasn’t looking forward to the latter, for both their sakes. He knew given her mother’s reaction, that she would not let him bow out easily. He suddenly wondered why he had let himself get tangled up in this.
When he arrived, he was graciously welcomed into the home. Mrs. Hawthorne nearly tripped over herself trying to make him comfortable, depositing him in the sitting room and fetching Patience. Peter stood awkwardly, waiting for Patience to arrive. Her father was already sitting in a comfortable looking chair upon entering the room.
Peter cleared his throat when Patience entered, her mother on her arm looking as if she was ready to sing joyous accolad
es to the happy couple.
Peter darted his eyes to Patience who eyed him eagerly, then to the mother again. He shifted uncomfortably. “I wondered if—perhaps, it was possible that I speak with Miss Patience privately?” Peter knew this sentence alone would get their hopes up. He tried not to give anything away in his expression.
He was right. Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes grew nearly the size of saucers. “Why, of course.” She gripped her husband’s elbow, making him stand from his armchair. “Come along, dear.” The man did not seem as excited as his wife, though he obeyed easily enough.
As Peter watched them leave the room, closing the door behind them, he knew they would be sorely disappointed when they found out he had no intention of marrying Patience.
He stepped to Patience eagerly as the door clicked its closure. “It was not Mr. Longman who sent the letter,” Peter reassured Patience.
She placed her hands on his, her eyes still anxious. “How do you know?”
“I just came from his office.”
Patience stepped back, catching her breath. “You questioned him? Did you tell him of our farce?”
“No, I’m afraid he would not let me get that far.”
“He still thinks I have changed my affection to you?” She fell onto the settee, her eyes misting over.
“He did not look like he received your letter. Though he gave enough of his feelings away for me to know that he still cares deeply for you. He was relieved you are safe and wishes me to tell you that he would never intentionally put you in harm’s way.”
Patience nodded. “We must put an end to this game. I think it best that we stay away from each other, so society knows you are not courting me any longer.”
Peter nodded, “I agree.” He sat next to Patience. “I am sorry things went this far. I should have never agreed to this bargain. It did help me realize one thing though.”
Patience took expectant eyes to him. “I am glad you have found something happy over all of this.” She heaved another breath, calming herself. “What?”
A Friendly Alliance: A Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 1) Page 11
