by Olivia Drake
She took a step backward; her thighs met the hard edge of the desk. Wildly she looked around for a weapon. Her hands closed on a silver inkwell behind her.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said, forcing calmness into her voice. “You see, Dreamspinner is only a clever forgery. Augusta sold the real stones years ago.”
Dagger upraised, Rose stopped. Confusion clouded her big brown eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Pry one of the stones out of its mounting,” Juliet said swiftly. “They’re green glass, not emeralds. There’s probably paint on the underside to enhance the color.”
Blinking uncertainly, Rose looked down at the necklace. Juliet seized the chance and hurled the inkpot.
It struck Rose’s arm. Black ink drenched her gray sleeve. Squealing, she dropped the knife. The blade went skittering under the bed.
Juliet dove for the small door. Wrenching it open, she dashed outside. A cool wind blew her hair. The moon shone through a haze of clouds, casting shadows on the narrow walkway, on the toothlike embrasures.
Alarm dried her throat. The parapet where Emily had died...
Sobbing in desperation, she pounded over the stone flags. The stairs. She must reach the stairs leading down to the courtyard.
A heavy weight thrust her off balance. Her back slammed against the hard surface of an embrasure. Wiry arms thrust her toward the edge. She caught a dizzying glimpse of the wall sweeping downward to the glimmering river and the rocky bank.
Terror tore a scream from her throat. She sobbed and struggled. Rose pushed with the iron strength of a madwoman. The drop loomed before Juliet. She scrabbled frantically for purchase. The limestone crumbled to dust in her fingers...
Heedless of the pain numbing his shoulder, Kent thrust again and again at the door. With grunts of fury, Emmett applied his own shoulder to the task. The hinges creaked ominously. Yet still the oaken door held despairingly firm.
An idea sprang into Kent’s beleaguered brain. “The courtyard,” he gasped out. “There’s a stairway leading to the parapet... another door into the bedroom.”
Giving a grim nod, Emmett ran out.
“Oh, dear God,” moaned Chantal, wringing her hands. “This is all my fault. I didn’t want to let myself believe...”
A scream echoed faintly. Juliet.
Please, God. Don’t take my love from me again.
The grisly image of her lying in a pool of blood gave his aching muscles renewed power. In desperation he battered the door. The hinges screeched. With an earsplitting crash, the panel gave way.
Rushing through the opening, he glanced around the room. Empty. The parapet door stood ajar. He dashed outside. Down the walkway, moonlight gilded a dark-haired woman leaning over an embrasure.
Rose. Maniacal fervency lit her features. Christ! She’d thrust Juliet half off the wall.
He ran. Gravel sprayed from beneath his feet. Tears of fear misted his eyes. His shoulder burned with each jarring step.
Juliet began to slip downward. Over his own sobbing breaths, he heard her gasp. She snatched futilely at the powdery stone.
No... no... no. Not again. Not again.
He shoved at Rose; she went staggering back. In the same swift motion he seized Juliet under the arms and yanked her to him.
He buried his face in the fragrant tumble of her hair. His heart thudded. Oh, God, he’d almost lost his beloved Juliet... and their precious baby.
She gulped in air and clutched limply at his shoulders. “Kent... oh, Kent. You’re here.”
“Yes, darling,” he crooned. “You’re safe now. I love you.”
“Don’t!” Rose cried shrilly. “You can’t love a Carleton.”
He lifted his head. Renewed panic stiffened his muscles. A distance down the parapet, his sister had scrambled onto an embrasure. Moonlight silvered her slim figure and glinted off Dreamspinner.
“Stop her!” Chantal cried, from behind. “Kent, she’ll fall!”
Releasing Juliet, he darted toward Rose. At the same instant, Emmett pounded up the stairs and emerged onto the walkway. Closer to the girl, he lunged at her and grasped her skirt.
“You’ll never have Dreamspinner!” she screamed. “I’ll take it with me into eternity!”
She yanked hard; her gown ripped. Almost calmly, she stepped off the wall. Moonlight gleamed on her fanatical expression, on the glass stones of the necklace. Arms flailing, she fell from sight.
Kent froze. Darkness spun before his eyes. A kaleidoscope of images flashed inside his head. Rose sitting a horse for the first time. Rose crouched adoringly at their father’s knee. Rose standing witness at Emily’s wedding...
Oh, God. Oh, God. His sister. His little sister.
A soft embrace surrounded him. Juliet. Sagging against her, he let her warmth seep into him. Tears slid down his icy cheeks. Her murmured words of comfort glided over him, over the vast raw wound inside him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “You couldn’t have known. There’s nothing you could have done.”
Chantal’s weeping shivered through the night air. “My daughter. If only I’d not blinded myself...”
Emmett gazed down at Rose’s body on the rocks below. Slowly he turned away and gathered Chantal close.
“You gave her a mother’s love,” he said heavily. “It was the feud, the hatred, that twisted her.”
“But it’s over now,” Juliet whispered. “The feud is ended.”
The words penetrated the dark well of Kent’s despair. The love in her eyes struck him with a healing ray of hope. Holding her tight, he took a fierce breath.
“Yes,” he said. “The hatred is over forever.”
Epilogue
The lusty howl of an infant echoed through the cave.
Sunlight jeweled by stained glass shone on the party gathered around the marble christening font. The vicar finished pouring the water and hastily handed the small, squalling bundle to its godmother. Maud Hammond-Gore gathered the baby against the gentle mound of her belly, jiggled her a moment until the sobs lulled, then passed the child to her wide-eyed husband.
Standing at Kent’s side, Juliet stood on tiptoe and whispered, “Henry looks terrified, don’t you think?”
“It’s good practice for him,” he murmured close to her ear. “He’ll soon discover the joys of fatherhood.”
His hand closed around hers, imbuing her with his steady warmth and solid security. In dreamy contentment, she listened to the vicar intone the closing prayers. Then the group filed out of the tiny church and into the June sunshine.
Henry promptly handed the baby to Juliet. “Er... I believe this is yours.”
Maud squinted proudly at the baby. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?”
Juliet smiled down at Emily’s adorable face and wide green eyes peeking out from the lace-edged bonnet, her milky scent blended with the aroma of roses climbing the stone wall of the church. Kent tickled her chin; the infant seized his finger, drew it to her mouth, and began to gum it vigorously.
“Ouch!” he said. “That’s no way to treat your father.”
“Might we deduce she’s hungry?” Maud said, patting her belly. “We certainly are.”
Juliet laughed. “Emily had a feeding before church. As for you, there’ll be plenty of feasting back at the castle.”
“Enough deducing, darling,” Henry said, casting an indulgent look at his wife. “Shall we go on?”
As they strolled away, her parents came out of the throng of well wishers. They made a perfect couple, Juliet thought fondly, Emmett the distinguished businessman in his charcoal-gray suit and Dorothea the elegant lady in her fashionable sapphire gown. He’d been right to hide the past from Mama. Untouched by tragedy, she looked serene and lovely.
“You certainly spoke your mind in there,” Emmett told the baby. “I suspect you’ll take after your mother in that respect.”
Emily cooed and waved a tiny fist.
“Don’t let his gruff manner fool you,” said Kent. “
Like me, he prefers your mother exactly as she is.”
Juliet’s heart skipped a beat. A smile transformed his rugged features into the breathtakingly handsome man she loved so much. Desire shimmered deep inside her, bearing the promise of brilliant joy...
“Come to Grandmama now.” Heedless of her pristine collar, Dorothea nestled the baby against her shoulder. Bright-eyed and gurgling, Emily gazed around the courtyard.
“Ah,” said Emmett, “Lady Emily’s a fine granddaughter. Three months old and so curious about the world.”
A secretive smile touched Juliet’s lips. “Perhaps it won’t be so very long before you’ll have a grandson, too.”
Kent cocked his head and stared. “You’re not...”
Nodding, she held her breath. “I am.”
His stunned look gentled; he slid an arm around her. “Another baby...”
“How delightful,” exclaimed Dorothea. She rubbed her cheek against Emily’s. “Did you hear that, darling? A sister or brother for you to play with.”
“Fine news indeed,” Emmett said. “If the child’s a boy, perhaps he’ll take an interest in business matters.”
“Or in my inventions,” Kent countered with a grin.
“Why not both?” Emmett suggested. “I’ve been meaning to discuss financing this newfangled machine of yours. Engines that run on petrol are the wave of the future.”
“We can speak of the thresher when I return to London. The queen has been badgering me about an agricultural bill she wishes Parliament to pass.”
“Bring the whole family. Victoria has summoned me, as well.”
“Oh, Papa,” Juliet said, gazing at his beaming face. “Do you mean…”
“We wanted to surprise you, darling,” Dorothea said proudly. “He’s to be knighted at last.”
Suddenly a Pekingese puppy ran barking through the crowd, his feathery tail dancing on air. Ducking through the sea of guests, little Hannah Forster chased the dog. No longer did she need the wooden crutch. Her knee-length pink dress revealed legs that were coltishly slim and blessed straight.
Augusta hurried around the corner of the church. She paused only to smile at Emily then continued after the puppy. “Rajah! Naughty boy, you were supposed to remain with the coachman.”
Laughing, everyone drifted to their carriages to return to the castle. As Emmett and Dorothea carried the infant to the landau, Kent held back and murmured, “Our passion has borne fruit again, my Lady Botanist. But you’ve only just finished rebuilding your greenhouse. Are you happy about having another child so soon?”
“Another babe won’t hinder me,” Juliet said, touching his smooth shaven cheek. “I want Emily to have all the sisters and brothers I never had.”
His eyes darkened despite the warming sunshine, and he clung tight to her hands. “I know. I can’t help remembering my own sister. Perhaps if I’d paid more heed to Rose...”
Her heart melted. “Don’t torture yourself darling. Her madness was hereditary, not your fault at all.”
He released a heavy sigh. “I suppose Chantal suffered more than I. To lose both her daughters.”
“We can be thankful she has Ravi. In her last letter, she seemed almost happy again, touring India with him.”
“Mmmm.” Lifting her hand, Kent brushed his lips across the back in a caress that made her shiver. “It was kind of Emmett to let Ravi take over the management of his new tea estate.”
Dazzlingly glad to see the light return to his eyes, Juliet smiled. His heat radiated to her; his strength aroused both quiet contentment and restless longing. She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his hard mouth. “Kent, I’m so happy you and Papa have put aside your differences.”
He smiled, a slow, seductive gentling of his noble face. His hands found her waist and rubbed enticingly. “Perhaps tonight you’d be willing to demonstrate your gratitude.”
“By candlelight?” she teased. “Or shall we make love in darkness, for nostalgia’s sake?”
His eyes gleamed. “Whatever pleases my duchess. I intend to spend my life pleasing you.”
His low-pitched voice made her stomach tighten deliriously.
“And I,” she said, kissing him again, “intend to spend my life spinning dreams of our future.”
Discover Olivia Drake and Barbara Dawson Smith
Olivia Drake
Stroke of Midnight
Dream Spinner
Silver Splendor
If the Slipper Fits
Seducing the Heiress
Never Trust a Rogue
Scandal of the Year
Barbara Dawson Smith
Once Upon A Scandal
Countess Confidential
The Duchess Diaries
One Wild Night
Too Wicked to Love
Seduced by a Scoundrel
A Glimpse of Heaven
Romancing the Rogue
The Rogue Report
Never A Lady
With All My Heart
Tempt Me Twice
Her Secret Affair
The Wedding Night
Defiant Surrender
Fire At Midnight
No Regrets
Stolen Heart
About the Author
A member of Romance Writers of America since 1981, Olivia Drake sold her first historical romance two weeks after sending it to a publisher. Her books have won the Golden Heart Award from RWA, and Best Historical Romantic Suspense and Best Regency Historical from Romantic Times. She has been a finalist for the National Readers’ Choice Award, Romance of the Year by Affaire de Coeur magazine, the Golden Quill, and the Booksellers' Best Award. She has also been a five-time finalist for the prestigious RITA Award, and realized a lifetime dream in 2002 when she won the award for TEMPT ME TWICE.
She also writes under the name of Barbara Dawson Smith.
OliviaDrake.com
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Discover Olivia Drake and Barbara Dawson Smith
About the Author
