***
Kissing Sebastian Holmes had to be the single most audacious, bold, daring thing Juliette had ever done. As he led her from the small room back to the main gallery, her heart still fluttered like a trapped bird, as though it were trying to escape from her chest.
His lips had been warm and firm, his breath sweet like peppermint. But best of all, he’d been willing. An active participant, even. He’d pulled her closer, not pushed her farther away. That had to mean something. Clearing her throat, she leaned toward him and whispered, “I am sorry for ambushing you like that. It was a split-second decision.”
Offering up an endearing little half-smile, he said, “A lady need never apologize for a kiss. Who knows? It might help move our cause along.”
Yes, their cause. Whoever had pulled them apart had now played an integral role in bringing them back together. She’d kissed him. Her very first kiss, in fact! As they carried on with their little charade, she could only hope that she’d be able to kiss him again very soon.
In fact, it was rather up to her to make that happen.
Chapter Nine
“I’ve found something of interest.”
Sebastian looked up from the letter he was reading, not at all fazed by Roderick’s straight-to-the-point greeting. “Oh?’ he said, tossing the missive onto his desk and leaning back in his father’s old chair. “I’m listening.”
Roderick remained standing, his hands behind his back, his posture as straight as if he were arguing a case before the high court. “Lady Juliette’s cousins have had a rough few months. I managed to peruse the ledger from White’s—don’t ask how—and discovered that Michael in particular has had several substantial losses recently.”
Sebastian sat up straighter. “Is that so?”
“You’ll remember, of course, her cousin Nathaniel’s abrupt departure to some remote estate up north not long before the wedding was to be held. One wonders how they are covering their losses on the portion they receive as younger sons.”
Sebastian did remember. It was odd, though. He knew about Nathaniel Pickford’s gambling, but he’d been unaware of Michael’s. “Interesting. What were the wagers?”
“The usual,” Roderick said, his dark eyes holding disdain. “High stakes at the card table, since the bored young aristocrats of the ton have nothing better to do with their time or money.”
Sebastian almost smiled at the description of his contemporaries. Hopefully his friend had never lumped him into that category. Contemplating this new information, Sebastian said, “I’m amazed that he’s stupid enough to continue such reckless behavior after what happened with his younger brother.”
“After years of dealing with people who landed themselves in rather unsavory positions,” Roderick said, his tone world-weary despite his mere twenty-eight years of age, “I’m beginning to think there are forces within that drive them to continue destructive behaviors. Just as one can become addicted to laudanum, so too can they succumb to vices.”
“That’s alarmingly philosophical of you,” Sebastian quipped, throwing his friend a wry glance. “Is that what I pay you for?”
“No—that I dispense for free,” he retorted before cracking a grin.
The clock chimed in the corner, reminding Sebastian that he had to leave soon if he wanted to be on time for his appointed meeting with Juliette. He was actually looking forward to it—a sentiment he chose not to examine too closely.
Yes, they had kissed yesterday, and as chaste as it was, it had certainly gotten his attention. But it was just a means to an end when it came to capturing a potential suspect’s attention. His anticipation for seeing Juliette again was surely just because she had proven to be a pleasant companion. Enjoyable, even.
Coming to his feet, he said, “Thank you for the information, Roderick. This only confirms my suspicion that Michael Pickford is our most likely suspect. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to antagonize the man into revealing himself.”
At least he hoped that was the result of all this.
Less than an hour later, he stood waiting in the Pickfords’ drawing room, having been deposited there by an exceedingly displeased butler. It was several long minutes before the patter of footsteps preceded Juliette’s arrival. She hurried in, her flushed face framed in wisps of escaped curls. Something dark smudged her chin, as well as the sleeve.
“Sebastian, I’m so sorry,” she said, a little out of breath. “Uncle Gregory asked me to help him in the conservatory this morning, and I’m afraid time quite got away from me.”
She smoothed her hands down the rumpled front of what was clearly an older gown, and he realized that the dark smudges were actually rich, dark soil. He grinned. She looked, for lack of a better word, completely adorable.
“No need to apologize. If you’d rather I come back another time, I’m happy to oblige.”
Though in truth, he didn’t really want to leave. It was the first time he’d ever seen her anything less than impeccably dressed, but for some reason, it seemed to suit her. She looked comfortable in her own skin, with her face bright and her posture relaxed. It was odd how, after years of betrothal, he felt as though they were only just now really meeting each other.
“No, no, I wouldn’t wish to put you out. Why don’t you give me a few minutes to make myself presentable, and we can go for a nice stroll to the bookstore?”
He shook his head, his lips relaxing into a smile. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on? I can see for myself that you enjoy the work.”
Surprise lifted her brows. “You can?”
“It’s written all over your face.” He stepped closer and brushed at the dirt on her chin. “You’re relaxed in a way I’ve never quite seen before.”
Her mouth opened to a little O before she licked her lips and smiled sheepishly. “It’s rather like a retreat, being in the conservatory. It’s warm and sunny, humid and sweet-smelling. I like seeing the plants grow and keeping tabs on my uncle’s experiments.”
He tilted his head toward the back of the house. “Then show me.”
“But what about being seen?”
After the information he had learned from Roderick, the enemy was likely housed beneath this very roof. The longer he stayed, the more likely he could goad a reaction from the man. Again, not something he wished to share with Juliette just yet.
“I’m sure half your neighbors know that I’m here now,” he said dryly. Spying on one’s neighbors was a Londoner’s favorite pastime, after all. “Let them speculate as to how long I’ll remain.”
She lifted her chin, looking very pleased. “Well, all right then. Follow me.”
***
This was most unexpected. Juliette smiled to herself as she led the way down the corridor to the back of the house. There seemed to be something a little different in his demeanor, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Less driven, perhaps? It was interesting that he was willing to spend time with her here, instead of parading all over London. Had it been the kiss?
The kiss.
The kiss that she had thought about for half the night. The one she wished had been longer. More private. More everything. She was determined to find a way to kiss him again, only this time she wanted it to be a good and proper kiss. The type of kiss that would have them ejected from the museum or the bookstore. A kiss that would leave her feelings for him bare, and expose his for her.
But she certainly couldn’t just throw herself at him. Somehow, she had to find a way to draw him in.
When they reached the door to the conservatory, she led him down the three stone steps and turned for his reaction. “Welcome to my uncle’s pride and joy.”
His gaze swept the place, from the lilies at her side all the way to the orchids lining the back wall of glass. His head tilted up as he took in the second story catwalk, accessible by a spiral staircase and lined with feathery ferns and tight-budded roses. He nodded, giving a low whistle. “Very impressive. I’ve
never seen a conservatory this large in the city.”
“I don’t think there is one,” she said with pride. “Uncle Gregory had been working on the plans with the architect for years, making sure that every available inch of space was fully maximized. When it was completed last year, he had the entirety of the plant collection he’s been cultivating at a separate rental property for the past fifteen years moved here.”
She had overseen most of the move, despite juggling the duties of the Season. It gave her a sense of pride to know that she’d played such a large role in the conservatory’s current glory. She smiled. It was only days later that she’d received a missive from Sebastian asking her to choose a date for the wedding at last.
Uncle Gregory must have realized they’d entered because his head popped up from behind a row of ferns near the back corner of the room. “Haverstan,” he said with a nod. “I trust you are well.” It wasn’t a particularly warm greeting, but it wasn’t cold either. That was encouraging.
Sebastian returned the nod. “Yes, thank you. Good to see you again. I’m impressed with the oasis you’ve built here.” His tone matched her uncle’s exactly. Better that than how things would have gone if Michael were here.
Coming to his feet, Uncle Gregory brushed off his hands and retrieved his walking stick before making his way over. “Thank you. It’s been a vision of mine for years, and it’s gratifying to see it come to fruition.”
When he reached them, he leaned on the handle and looked at the room from their point of view. “I’m particularly fond of the second story walkway. It was Juliette’s idea to have the spiral staircase, as opposed to a ladder, which would have been too difficult for me to navigate.” He smiled at her fondly as he patted her arm.
Sebastian glanced back to Juliette and nodded. “I’m not at all surprised that she would make such a clever suggestion.”
The small compliment was enough to make a silly grin work at the edges of her mouth. Before yesterday, she would have said he was playing a part. Now, however, she wanted to believe that there was honesty in his warm gaze. Was her plan to win him over actually working?
Her uncle cleared his throat. “Juliette, why don’t you show Haverstan around a bit while I go find my book on ferns. I’ll only be a moment.”
And just like that, he left them alone.
Granted, it was a room fully made of glass, open for any of the neighbors to see, given the right angle, but it was a surprisingly sweet gesture. She nodded and waited for him to retreat before sweeping a hand toward the little brick path that snaked through the room. “Shall we?”
He held out his arm and she slipped her hand around his elbow as though they were formally promenading along the shores of the Serpentine. “My uncle purchased this house almost thirty years ago specifically because it had the largest garden he could find. He was very young, but even then, he had imagined the possibilities of the place.”
“It’s good that he knew what he wanted at such a young age. It takes most of us longer to find what it is in life that will make us happy.”
She lifted an eyebrow toward him. “And have you found it in your life?”
He was quiet for a moment before giving a light shrug. “No, actually. I’ve enjoyed traveling on occasion, but I can’t say it’s a passion. I suppose once I’m comfortable in my new role, both in running the estate and participating in the House of Lords, then I’ll take some time to figure out what else I’d like in my life.”
“A family, perhaps?” She spoke neutrally, but she really did want to know what his thoughts were on the subject.
“Perhaps,” he answered noncommittally.
She sighed and slipped her bare fingers over the leafy foliage as they passed. “It’s so odd to imagine we might have been married for nearly eight months by now. Possibly expecting, even.”
He shot her a look, his eyes unreadable. “I never considered that. I suppose you are right.” He shook his head and added, “There are many divergent paths we could have taken, however, if one starts to question the many choices in life.”
He paused, pulling her to a stop as well. Gently, he tugged her around to face him, the two of them enveloped by warm, humid air all the while. It was easy to believe that they were somewhere much more exotic than London.
“Juliette, as much as I hate that we were deceived, I can’t be sorry for the fact that we didn’t marry. We simply never suited. You deserve better than that. Both of us do.”
She swallowed as she looked up into his earnest gaze. “We didn’t suit. Not back then. But I can’t say that we never will. In just this short while, I’ve come to realize that I actually like you.”
In an effort to keep things light, she offered up a teasing grin, but she wasn’t really teasing. She had come to know him better in the past week than she had in the whole of their betrothal. She may not have particularly cared for the man she thought she knew, but she really did like this man, the one she’d gotten to know.
He squeezed her hands, and she realized with a start that his fingers were bare like hers. When had he removed his gloves? She squeezed back, exploring the feel of his skin against hers.
“You’ll find someone you like much more in no time. In fact, in a few more days, you’ll likely be sick of me.”
“Are you sure? Because if that’s the case, I wish that I had stolen a proper kiss yesterday when I had the chance.” She would never before have dared to say such a thing, but she could feel the connection between them in that moment. He may be saying that they weren’t meant for each other, but his body language said something else altogether.
One eyebrow lifted, but he didn’t let go of her hands. If anything, he tightened his hold. “A proper kiss? As opposed to improper?” Amusement softened his teasing.
“As opposed to chaste. If I’m to have one chance at a kiss, I’d rather it be the type that ought not be done in a museum.”
“Ah,” he said, his voice soft and low. “Though I’m not quite sure that there is a type that should be done in a museum.”
“Point taken. But answer me this: If you were to have one and only one kiss to remember someone by, is that what you’d want it to be?” Her own voice was soft, too. The atmosphere between them had thickened, and she didn’t want to somehow ruin it.
His gaze was searching as he met her eyes. She could smell the warm tones of his shaving soap and feel the heat of his skin. She didn’t shy away from his inspection, but looked right back at him. She wanted him to see her. Really see her, not the woman his father chose or the partner in this charade to trap the person who’d wronged them. She wanted him to see the girl who loved plants, and lists, and daydreaming of travel to exotic places. The woman who thought he was devilishly handsome, and surprisingly kind.
“You want a proper kiss?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I do.”
“From me?”
“From you.”
“We are soon to be saying goodbye, Juliette.” His voice was serious now. He was considering her request, and that knowledge sent butterflies rioting in her belly.
“I know,” she said simply.
At that, he released his hold on her fingers. Just when she started to fear that he would step away, he slid one hand behind her lower back and the other to the nape of her neck and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled her against him. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Definitely.”
He gave a barely perceptible nod. “Just this once, then.”
It was so much more exhilarating to be on the receiving end. She waited, breathless, as his lips drew closer to hers. His kiss was feather-soft at first, little more than a brushing of mouths. But almost immediately he kissed her again, this time deliberately. Firmly. The third time their lips met, he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to the seam of her lips.
With her heart galloping in her chest, she followed his example, opening her mouth and slipping her tongue against his. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth
more firmly across hers and tangling their tongues in a waltz she wouldn’t soon forget.
She leaned into him, soaking up his warmth and savoring the taste of him. Was this what it would have been like? He had been so apathetic about the wedding, but in time, was this how he would have kissed her? As though she were the only woman in London? In all the world, even?
A clatter at the door startled them apart, and she gasped when she saw Georgiana and Michael standing just inside the door. Georgiana’s eyes were as wide as saucers, while Michael’s were narrowed in a thunderous scowl.
“What the devil is going on here?”
Chapter Ten
Success, Sebastian thought grimly. He hadn’t intended to be caught kissing her—that was a moment born solely of her sweet, beseeching eyes and the strange but strong draw he’d felt between them—but he could scarce have hoped for a more inciting event.
Michael Pickford stormed forward, anger rolling off him in waves. “You are a devil of the worst sort. Wasn’t it enough to ruin her before the ton? How dare you take such liberties with her now!”
“Michael, please,” Juliette said, starting forward, but Sebastian stayed her with a hand to her shoulder.
“No, let him speak. He’s right that I shouldn’t have taken the liberty, and for that I apologize.”
He wanted to gauge the other man’s reaction, to see if he could push him to say or do something that would prove his guilt. If he were innocent of wrongdoing, he’d most certainly demand that Sebastian marry Juliette after taking such liberties, but it was clear no such demand was forthcoming.
Miss Pickford hurried between them, her arms outstretched as though holding two boxers apart. “He’s apologized, Michael. Lord Haverstan, please do the right thing and leave here at once. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Georgiana,” Juliette said, clearly about to argue, but Sebastian squeezed her arm again.
“She’s right. Pickford and I can have this conversation elsewhere. There’s no need to upset the ladies.”
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