by Shana Galen
He cleared his throat and raised a shaking hand to the door. The knocker had been removed, indicating she’d left Town, but he didn’t believe that. She had nowhere else to go. He knocked, but his hand slipped, and the knock barely sounded. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fist and rapped harder, firmer, braver this time.
He stood and he waited.
And waited.
His heart beat harder, and he lifted his hand again.
Silence.
Could it be she was not in Town? Could it be Juliette had not returned to London? His coachman had told him he’d taken her here. Had she promptly left after arriving? He stared at her door. Or might she be staying elsewhere?
And if she was, how would he ever find her? London was a sprawling city. If she didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be.
On the other hand, she was the Duchess of Dalliance—a notorious and exceptionally beautiful woman. Someone would know where she was. And he knew where to start.
***
Juliette sat with Fallon, Lily, and the Countess of Sinclair in the sitting room of the countess’s bedchamber. “You are not a fool,” Lily was saying for perhaps the tenth time that day.
“He is the fool,” Fallon said, also for the tenth time. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“But I should never have fallen in love with him. I knew he didn’t love me. I knew he would never marry a courtesan. And besides, he’s an awful man—rigid, arrogant, demanding—”
The countess held up a hand, and Juliette quieted. One did not speak when the Countess of Sinclair was speaking. “The girls are right, Juliette. He is the fool. What’s more, he is a bigger fool because he is in love with you, too. He has too much pride to admit it.”
“But how can you possibly know that?” Juliette asked. “You don’t even know him.”
The countess gave her a long look, and Juliette began to wonder if perhaps the countess did know Pelham. Juliette never ruled anything out when the countess was involved. She happened to glance at Lily and caught the look she flashed Fallon.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Fallon said. Juliette knew she would never be able to make Fallon tell her, so she fixed her gaze on Lily.
“Lily?”
“Nothing.” She looked away.
“Lily, tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” But Lily’s voice rose slightly, and Juliette knew she was lying.
“Tell me.”
“Oh, you might as well tell her,” the countess said. “She will find out eventually anyway.”
“Find out what?” She grabbed Fallon’s arm. “He’s not dead, is he? Pelham’s not hurt, is he? I thought Lucifer was on the Continent. Did he go after Pelham?”
“Juliette, Pelham is fine.” She raised a brow. “A moment ago you said he was an awful man.”
“That doesn’t mean she wants him dead,” Lily added. “The duke is fine, Juliette. He’s in London.”
“He’s in London? He’s here? How long has he been in Town?”
“Almost a week,” the countess said.
“Oh.” Juliette’s heart sank. She didn’t think it could sink any more than it already had, but she felt it drop into her belly. Hard. She supposed this would be her life from now on. She would hear of Pelham from other people. He would be in Town or in the country, and she would not be with him. She would hear or read secondhand accounts. Perhaps one day she would read of his engagement in the Times.
“Oh, bloody hell.”
“Fallon!” Lady Sinclair admonished. “Language.”
“I can’t help it. Look at her. She’s devastated. Juliette, he’s been looking for you.”
Juliette’s whole body seemed to jerk in shock. “He has?”
“Yes, he came to my house and Lily’s house.”
“He even came here. You may be certain Abernathy did not admit him.”
“Of course not.” But Juliette was barely listening. Pelham was looking for her. Pelham wanted to see her.
“He will probably be back,” the countess said. “I think he knows you are here. Do you want to see him?”
Juliette’s first response was yes, yes! More than anything she wanted to see Will, hold him, kiss him. But she checked her impulse to say this. Did she want to see Pelham? What more did they have to say to each other? He had made his position clear, as had she. She could not accept being his mistress. But she was afraid if she saw him again, she might forget her principles and accept any offer he made. “No,” she said finally. “No, I don’t want to see him.”
“Good!” Fallon said. “I hope he calls again when I am at home. I’ll tell him to go to hell in person.”
“Fallon.” The countess sighed. “Language.”
“I think you need to get out a bit,” Lily said to Juliette. “You have been hiding for days and days.”
Juliette spread her arms. “Where am I to go? I’m supposed to be a courtesan, but now I’ve lost my popularity. I need to find another profession.”
Lady Sinclair patted her arm. “There’s time for that yet, dear. Lily is right. What about a night at the theater? Mozart’s The Abduction from the Seraglio is playing next week.”
Fallon rolled her eyes, but Lily clapped her hands. “Oh, it will be wonderful to have The Three Diamonds back together again. Now, we must begin thinking about what we shall wear.”
A tap on the door interrupted Lily, and Juliette was not sorry. She wasn’t at all certain she wanted to brave the theater and the stares of half the ton. And she certainly did not want to think about fashion.
Lord Sinclair poked his head in the door. “I hate to interrupt, my dears, but I insist the countess rest.”
The three girls jumped up. “Of course, Sin,” Lily said. “You’re absolutely correct. We will tire her out.”
“I am not a child who needs a nap,” the countess protested. The earl went to her side and helped her to rise. Juliette saw the countess did look tired, indeed. The earl, who was very busy, had taken time to make certain she rested so she would fully recover from her illness. She watched as he helped the countess to her bed, envious of the love between the two of them.
“Give me a kiss before you go,” she told the girls. Dutifully, Fallon, Lily, and then Juliette gave her kisses on the cheek. The earl patted each girl’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture.
“I shall see you at dinner,” Juliette said, pecking the countess’s cheek.
Both Lily and Fallon took their leave. They had balls to attend tonight and needed to begin their toilettes. Juliette had nothing planned. She had received several invitations, but they were all from the lowest, most notorious rakes. She was not that desperate.
She went to her room and stood at the window overlooking the street. Fashionable carriages clopped past, carrying the residents of Mayfair to and fro. She watched for a long time, wondering if the duke’s carriage would come today.
And then she thought again of the love between the earl and his wife. Could she settle for less?
She closed the curtains and turned away.
Twenty-three
Will sat at his club, staring into the fire and drinking port. At some point he was going to have to admit she was lost to him.
Juliette was lost to him.
Her friends would not bring her a message from him, the stodgy butler at Sinclair House maintained he did not know a Juliette, and even the servants at Juliette’s own town house would not do more than smile politely at him.
He wondered if she planned to go back to her home. Her servants had returned, but according to his sources, she was still ensconced at Sinclair House.
And Will had sources. He had men all over Town reporting to him if they even thought they saw a woman who looked like Juliette. He had men
watching her friends’ houses, her house, and Lucifer’s Lair. He was spending a fortune, and it would be worth it to hold her in his arms again. But he was beginning to doubt he would ever speak to her again, much less hold her.
He tried not to think too much about where she was staying or what she might be doing there. Had she fled back into the arms of the Earl of Sin? Was he warming her bed now? Will clenched his fists when he thought of another man touching Juliette. But what could he do? She was an independent woman. She could see whomever she liked. Somehow he had to convince her she wanted to see him.
But how, when he couldn’t even get close to her?
Will heard a muffled sound and turned just as Fitzhugh took the chair opposite him. “What was that? You spoke into my deaf ear.”
“I said you look like your favorite horse just went lame. Why the long face?” He signaled to a waiter and ordered a brandy.
Will frowned. “It’s nothing.”
“I don’t think it’s nothing. You’ve been moping around here for the last week. Is it Lady Elizabeth’s death? Lord and Lady Nowlund are beside themselves with grief.”
Devil take him. He’d completely ignored Lord and Lady Nowlund since arriving back in Town. He should call on them, pay his respects. His betrothal to Lady Elizabeth had not been finalized, so he was not breaking social custom by not mourning. But he owed them the courtesy of a call.
“I see that’s not it,” Fitzhugh said. The waiter brought his brandy, but he did not drink. Instead, he set the glass on the table and toyed with the rim.
“Stop trying to get inside my head,” Will said. “I don’t harass you about all of your private affairs.”
“That’s because I’m a better friend than you. I’m also in the business of knowing something about private affairs, and I have it on good authority that you have been trying to get an audience with the Duchess of Dalliance.”
Will sat forward then forced himself to wait three heartbeats before speaking. “Her name is Juliette.”
Fitzhugh shrugged. “Call her what you will. She apparently doesn’t want to see you.”
Will ground his teeth together. He had thought he was being rather circumspect in his efforts to see Juliette. How had the fact he was seeking her become known? And wouldn’t the ton salivate for that information? Was he now going to be made a laughingstock in the Morning Chronicle again? “How did you find out?” he asked quietly.
“I like to know things. You can stop looking at me like you’re going to throttle me. I’m not going to share your secret, and it’s far from common knowledge. That’s probably exactly your problem.”
Will shook his head. Fitzhugh was one of the few men he knew who actually made sense, but he was not making sense today. “I don’t have a problem. I was protecting Juliette. Apparently, Lady Elizabeth was murdered because of her connections to a man called Lucifer.”
Now Fitzhugh leaned forward. “The Lucifer who runs Lucifer’s Lair? I know of him. He’s a dangerous man, not to be trifled with.”
“Fortunately, my sources tell me he’s out of the country. He fled after murdering Lady Elizabeth.”
Fitzhugh’s eyes narrowed. “And Juliette witnessed the murder. This is coming together now. But why would Lady Elizabeth have an acquaintance with Lucifer?”
“Apparently, she enjoyed the faro tables a bit too much. She racked up enormous debts. And then she made a fatal mistake. She stole Lucifer’s diamonds.”
“To pay the debts?”
“Possibly. Or perhaps she hoped to sell them and flee the country. Or perhaps she just enjoyed the thrill of stealing them. We will never know.”
“She was a fool to believe Lucifer would not catch her.”
“And when he did, she implicated Juliette. That is another reason I took her to Yorkshire with me. Lucifer was searching her town house for the diamonds before he fled the country.”
“And where are the diamonds now?” Fitzhugh asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve searched everywhere I can think of. I don’t even know what they look like.”
Fitzhugh crossed his arms. “I’d like to help you, but I’m on assignment.”
“I thought you’d retired.”
“I’ve been called back. One of the men I worked with on the Continent has been murdered. He was a friend, one of my diamonds in the rough.”
“Do you think he was targeted?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’ll ask a few of my contacts to look into this business with Lucifer. I’d like to know exactly where he is.”
Will nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
Fitzhugh raised his brows. “Would you? I think this is the first time you’ve ever thanked me for giving you assistance. I was under the impression dukes rarely expressed appreciation.”
“There are a lot of things dukes should not do that I have done of late.” He signaled for another port. He had a feeling he was going to need it.
“For example?”
“Searching all over London for Juliette. If word of this is made public, I’ll look a fool.”
“And I believe I said that is exactly your problem.”
“Fitzhugh”—Will swallowed a large portion of the port the waiter put in front of him—“do endeavor to make sense.”
Fitzhugh only smiled, which did nothing to improve Will’s mood. “Allow me to make certain I understand the particulars of your situation. You are in love with the Duchess of Dalliance.”
Will scowled. “I fail to see how feelings play any part in this.”
“Good God, man. If you can’t admit it to me, how are you going to tell her?”
That was a valid point, Will decided. “Fine.” He clenched his jaw. “I’m in love with Juliette.”
“A notorious courtesan.”
“She was, yes.”
“Do you intend to marry her?”
“Are you certain these questions are germane?”
“No, but it’s entertaining watching you squirm, and I’ve had very little entertainment in my life of late.”
“Fitzhugh.”
“Answer the question, or I won’t help you.”
“I fail to see how you can help me, at any rate.”
“Then you don’t want to know how to win Juliette?”
Will narrowed his eyes at Fitzhugh. Could the man really know how to get to Juliette? He’d known about Lucifer. Perhaps he knew where Will could get a quarter hour alone with Juliette.
“Fine. Yes, I intend to make her my wife.”
Fitzhugh let out a low whistle. “Your uncle will not approve of that match.”
“So he has made clear. Fortunately, I am the duke, not he. Get to the part where I win Juliette.”
“One more question.”
“Fitzhugh.” Will’s tone was one of warning.
“How much do you want her? Are you willing to risk what you hold most dear?”
Will reached across the table and grabbed Fitzhugh by the cravat. “What is this? A riddle? I told you I love her and want to marry her. I’ve already broken my cardinal rule by falling in love—and not simply with a woman but a courtesan, for God’s sake. It’s undignified.”
“And that’s what you shall have to risk.”
Will furrowed his brow, and Fitzhugh unclenched the duke’s fingers from his cravat.
“If you want to win her, you must give up your dignity. It’s the only way to prove to her you really mean what you say.”
Will leaned back in his chair and stared at Fitzhugh. He did not want to hear this. He knew he did not want to hear this. He’d do anything but what Fitzhugh was suggesting. Anything. He was the Duke of Pelham. He had a title and family honor to preserve.
“I don’t know the duchess—I mean, Juliette—at all
, but even I can see she’s an intelligent woman. A courtesan marrying a duke? It will not be easy for either of you.”
And yet she’d risked everything by falling in love with him—her pride, her livelihood, her heart. And what had he given her? He’d never even told her he loved her. Why should she believe him now? After the way he’d treated her, he would not be surprised if she slapped him. “I owe her an apology,” Will muttered.
“Undoubtedly.”
Will raised his eyes to Fitzhugh. “Dukes do not apologize.”
“Perfect. It will show her how much she means to you when you do apologize. What else don’t dukes do?”
“Marry courtesans.”
“Right.” Fitzhugh slapped the table. “You need to propose publicly. Apologize, tell her you are madly in love with her, and ask her to be your wife. In public.”
Will thought he was going to be ill.
“What else is against the ducal code?”
Will stared at Fitzhugh. “Publicly humiliating myself is not enough? I must do more?”
“Do you want her or not?”
“How do I know all of this isn’t simply for your amusement?” Will crossed his arms. “How is it you are the expert on women?”
“Have you met my mother?”
Will had. The Countess of Winthorpe was one of those Society mothers who could send even him running. If she got it into her head a man was a good match for one of her daughters, the man was as good as leg-shackled.
“She’s married off three of my four sisters and both of my older brothers. I’ve made a study of her strategies. Not to mention, I’ve seen the hoops my brothers and my sisters’ husbands must jump through to keep peace in their marriages. Trust me, Pelham, you’re getting off easy.”
“I can’t think of anything worse than what we’ve already discussed.”
Fitzhugh sipped his port and appeared thoughtful. He was silent for quite some time, and Will almost began to relax. Almost.
Suddenly, Fitzhugh sat forward. “I have it.”
Will wanted to groan.
“You know, Pelham, it occurs to me I never see you dance.”
