by Dawn Brower
“He does possess a good fortune,” her father replied. “His estates are flourishing, he’s neither given to excessive drink nor gambling.”
Juliette’s heart fell at her father’s words. There was more to a man then how much he imbibed or gambled. She did not want to be saddled with a poor man, but if given the choice she’d rather live in a hovel than be beaten every day. That was what her fate would be if they forced her to marry Lord Payne. Juliette stepped closer and peaked inside the slit in the door.
“He isn’t too old for her either.” Her step-mother sat down in her father’s lap. “She’ll still be able to have a family of her own. Juliette should know the joys of motherhood. It’s a good match. When Lord Payne arrives in a few days to sign the marriage contract, your daughter will be well taken care of.”
Juliette clenched her fingers together into a tight fist. How dare she? All she cared about was herself. She saw Juliette as competition, and was doing everything in her power to get rid of her. What was the hurry? The spring season wasn’t that far away, only mere months. Why was Eloise forcing the issue so soon? Did Juliette not deserve a choice?
She couldn’t take it anymore. If she had to listen a second longer she’d lose the contents of her stomach. This plan of Eloise’s must be stopped. Juliette eased the door open and cleared her throat. “Ahem, father, you asked to see me.”
Eloise and her father were locked in a passionate embrace. A gag rose in her throat at the sight. She should be used to it by now, but it always sat uneasily inside of her. Her new step-mother was an usurper in her life. She’d never take the place of her mother, and she’d never stop missing the woman’s love. The new countess while a beauty, was selfish and vane.
Eloise stood and crossed the room to meet her. “Please, come in dear. There’s much your father and I wish to discuss with you.”
She bet they did. They were about to unload a bunch of misery on her she’d not felt—well not since her mother’s death, and before that the abandonment of her only friend. What was one more momentous bout of melancholy to add to her list? This one would be the last if she had anything to say about it.
“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow. “Please continue.”
“Why don’t you have a seat dear.” Her father gestured toward a chair. “There is much we have to tell you.”
Juliette did as her father bid and sat in a chair. Her father’s study had been one of her favorite places as a child. At least in their London townhouse. Her favorite place to be was Riverdale Park, but she’d not been to her family’s country seat in years. Not since her mother’s death. Her father had chosen to remain in London instead of visiting a place of happier times. It had brought nothing but pain to him, and then he’d met Eloise. The new countess abhorred country life and begged him to remain in London. A part of Juliette longed for Christmastides of the past. When Riverdale Park was filled with visitors and the festivities lasted days.
London was rather ugly and drab in comparison.
“After careful deliberation,” her father began. “I’ve come to a decision regarding your future.”
“You have?” Juliette tilted her head. “Am I to shop for new gowns? I do need some current attire for the upcoming season.”
If her father was aware of her penchant for listening at doors he’d punish her for her insolence. For now she’d play along with his news, and then afterward she’d make a plan of escape. She’d not be marrying Lord Payne.
“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” Eloise said. Her lips tilted up smugly. “You won’t be having a season as planned.”
“I’m not?” She widened her eyes in feigned shock. “Why? Has something happened?”
She wanted to wipe that smug smile off of the countess’s face. She believed she’d won, but in time she’d realize she hadn’t. Eloise wanted her gone, and she’d get her wish one way or the other.
Her father’s gruff voice interrupted her musings. “I’ve been in talks with Viscount Payne. He’s interested in marriage to you, and it’s my belief it will be a good match. He’ll be here in less than a sennight to go over the marriage contracts.”
Juliette clenched her fingers together. She could not give into the desire to scream. It wouldn’t do if she showed any emotion. If she did Eloise would use it against her, and in turn drive her father in the direction she wanted him to go.
“Father,” she began. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but marriage to Lord Payne is not something I desire. While I don’t blame mother—I did miss out on my season. I’d prefer to at least have a small season.” She smiled encouragingly. “A choice at least in husbands.”
Please let him agree. She couldn’t marry Lord Payne. Hadn’t she already paid the ultimate price? No, she supposed not. That would include the loss of her life, and that price was too high... She had too much she wanted to do with her life.
“I’m afraid I can’t humor you, child.” Juliette almost snorted. She’d not been a child in years, but perhaps her father would always see her as such. “Lord Payne insists that I sign the contract now or not at all.”
That worked perfectly as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want to marry the viscount, and no amount of coaxing would change her mind. “I see,” she replied. “That would be a grave loss for sure...” She paused and considered her words. “But surely there would be others willing to marry me. Ties to the Riverdale line aren’t anything to scoff at.”
“You’re correct,” he agreed. “However the same could be said about Lord Payne. It’s a good match and I’m not changing my mind. The contracts will be signed before the end of Christmastide, and you’ll be married after the new year once the bans have been read.”
Juliette gulped down the lump in her throat. There was no reasoning with her father. He was fully ensconced in Eloise’s control. She was pulling his strings, and therefore she presumed Juliette’s. Well the countess would see in time that no one would ever control her. Before the day was out she’d be gone, and out of their lives.
“As you desire,” Juliette nodded demurely. She couldn’t give them even a hint of what she had planned. “May I be excused?”
“Yes dear,” her father said. “When Lord Payne arrives I want you to be on your best behavior.”
“Of course father,” she replied. “I’m always the proper lady.” Not that he’d felt the need to send her to finishing school. Her father could be quite miserly with funds at times. He’d believed it wasn’t necessary to spend a fortune on schooling a mere girl. The earl left her deportment lessons to her mother and governess.
She bowed her head and then stood to leave. When she reached the entrance her step-mother’s voice made her pause. “Juliette dear,” Eloise said. “I’ll escort you to your room. There is something I wish to speak with you about.”
Drat. What did the woman want? Hadn’t she done enough to ruin her life? Juliette turned and met Eloise’s gaze. “I look forward to it.” She waited for the countess to join her. They strolled side by side down the hall in silence. When was she going to say something?
“I hope you won’t put up a fuss about the marriage,” Lady Riverdale began. “Lord Payne will make a good husband for you.”
Juliette bit down on her bottom lip. A drop of blood trickled into her mouth from the impact. If she said what was truly in her heart Lady Eloise would make things much worse for her, and escape near impossible. For now she must appear as biddable as possible.
“I look forward to starting a family of my own. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Good. I’m glad we were able to arrange an advantageous match for you.”
They reached Juliette’s chamber. Thank God. She could bid Eloise good night and start her plan of escape. “Good night Lady Riverdale.” She always addressed Eloise formally. It was what Eloise preferred. In her thoughts though she called her anything she wanted. The countess nodded her head dismissing Juliette.
After she was inside she locked the door and pulled
out her reticule. She’d not be able to take much with her, but there were a few items she refused to leave behind. Most of it was sentimental in value as she had little worth. The little bit of pin money she had would have to do. She hoped it wouldn’t matter either way.
If he kept the promise he made her all those years ago, she’d not worry for anything. He was her last hope, and if he refused her she’d have no choice but to follow her father’s dictate. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that. It was a sad day indeed when her life depended upon the Duke of Kissinger—desolate rake, debaucher of anything in a skirt, and a reprobate of the highest level. The scandal sheets took pleasure in outlining many of his exploits.
CHAPTER TWO
Grayson Abbot, the Duke of Kissinger lounged in his study sipping a fine brandy. He’d vacated his good friend Christian, the Marquis of Knightly’s townhouse earlier that evening. He enjoyed the company of good friends, and the townhouse definitely boasted a few of them, but he’d also been a little depressed watching them bask in their happiness. An emotion that had eluded him for more years than he recalled. No that wasn’t entirely true, he could pinpoint the exact moment when it had been ripped from his life.
He blamed his father for it.
Grayson lifted the goblet of brandy in a mock toast. “This is to you good ole’ dad.” He downed the remaining contents in one gulp. It was more than the bastard deserved.
After he’d gone away to Eton he’d not been permitted to return home. It was his father’s brand of tough love. The previous duke hadn’t liked his growing friendship with the Earl of Riverdale’s daughter. Boys don’t have girls as playmates—at least according to the dictates of his late father.
His death freed Grayson in so many ways, but his fate had been set long before that blessed event. Instead of giving into his father’s demands of education and strict structure of running the estates, Grayson took a different path. One that led to debauchery of every kind imaginable. It was an endeavor he took very seriously. Decadence, followed by wickedness, could only be done right when he threw himself into it whole heartedly. He’d not regretted one moment of it. At that point in his life he’d already lost anything worth keeping, and all he’d held dear would forever be out of reach.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” his butler, Burrows, said. “A visitor is here to see you.”
Grayson growled at the announcement. “Who the bloody hell would come here at this late hour?” All of his friends were still at Knightly’s townhouse. He’d left to escape their sickly outpouring of joy. This was unacceptable. Was it too much to ask for peace and quiet in his own home?
“It’s a lady, Your Grace.”
Well, well, that was something different entirely. A woman was exactly what he needed. He rubbed his chin and considered who it could be. Lady Danvers had taken an interest in him when he ran into her at the opera, or it could be the lead in the opera... The list was endless. He liked to keep his options open and never committed to any one woman.
“By all means show the lady in,” he ordered. “A lady is always welcome to keep me company.” Burrows remained still inside the doorway. Why hadn’t he gone to retrieve the woman already. Grayson was excited to see which fair beauty had the daring to grace his home uninvited. “Why are you still standing there? Go fetch her. It’s not good to keep a lady waiting. They don’t like that sort of thing.” Unless it built up passion and desire, then the screams were well worth it.
Burrows cleared his throat. “It’s not that kind of lady, Your Grace.”
His butler was well acquainted with Grayson’s proclivities. If he said the woman in question wasn’t his usual sort—that could only mean one thing. It was an innocent he wouldn’t have the pleasure of ravishing, that is, unless he planned on being caught by the parson’s trap. Something he had no intention of ever doing. He didn’t care if he never had an heir to pass his title down to. The damned thing could go to whatever distant cousin was next in line.
“In that case,” he replied. “Please inform the chit I’m not at home to visitors.” A part of him wondered who it was, but he couldn’t allow himself the honor of finding out. She was better off not entering any further than the foyer. Just being in his home could tatter her reputation. He was doing her a favor by denying her an audience.
“When it’s clear you very much are?” A feminine voice filled the room.
Grayson sighed. She wasn’t going to be denied anything apparently. It was too late to save her from herself. Very well, he’d deal with her and then send her on her way. He turned and sucked in a breath momentarily stunned. A silhouette of pure beauty greeted him. Her midnight tresses were wound up and bound neatly into an elegant chignon. His fingers itched to unwind it and see it flow over her luscious curves. All of this and he’d still not seen her face. When she finally turned to meet his gaze he lost all ability to breathe. Those sea-green eyes kept him riveted in place. He should stand and greet her but his body refused to function. She was the last person he expected or wanted to enter his home.
“What no words?” She raised an eyebrow. “And I thought you were noted as the witty duke amongst the ton. I must say, I’m rather disappointed.”
Grayson drank in the sight of her. He wanted to remember her as she stood before him for the rest of his days. She was glorious, proud, and fearless. “Didn’t your father teach you better than to enter the lion’s den?” He lifted a brow mockingly. “You could very well get eaten alive.”
Her lips tilted at the corner. “I rather like my chances.” She moved further into the room. “After all I’ve tamed a lion before.”
“There’s a difference between a young cub, and a full grown male, Jules,” he explained. “One is more docile and willing to cuddle. The adult wants to be petted—in other ways.” He stood up and gazed directly into her eyes. “A bite can be pleasurable or....” Grayson crossed over to her side and leaned down, whispering in her ear, “or painful depending on your preference.”
Juliette took a deep breath but remained where she stood. He’d give her that much. She’d always been a stubborn girl, and apparently she’d not grown out of that trait. If she didn’t take a step back soon he’d be forced to make a choice. Either he pulled her into his arms and kissed her the way he craved or he put distance between them respecting her innocence. It was a hard decision and warred deep inside him, but he did what was best for her. Turned out that some things were ingrained. Protecting her had always been his first instinct.
“If you’re done trying to intimidate me, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
“I need a drink,” he said ignoring her statement. He headed toward his decanter of brandy and filled his glass to the top. If he were to make it through this interview he’d need a little, no make that a lot, of liquid courage. Dealing with Lady Juliette Brooks was something he’d hope to avoid for the rest of his life. He’d done her a disservice by befriending her all those years ago.
“It seems you’ve had plenty already.” She scrunched her nose up with displeasure. “Must you pour more down your throat?”
He lifted a brow. “One doesn’t pour fine brandy down their throat,” he mocked. “It’s sipped, savored, and drawn out to enhance the enticing flavor. Good liquor is as delectable as a woman. A fine one deserves slow intricate attention to thoroughly appreciate it.”
She sighed. “All you had to do was say no.” Juliette placed her hands on her hips. “You can dispense with your rake rhetoric. I don’t have time for it.”
Just like that she dismissed everything he’d said as nonsense. Why wasn’t any of it working on her? Other ladies swooned when he spoke with such wickedness. But not Lady Juliette, no, she brushed it aside as nonsense. How was he to scare her off if she didn’t take a word he said seriously?
“Would you like a drink?” Grayson gestured toward the decanter. “It appears you could use a stiff one.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She glanced at the brandy and then back at him. “
Yes. Please pour me a glass. It’s been a tiresome day, and it would help me relax.”
It was the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought. It had been a long time since they’d had an actual conversation. Sure, he’d been kept informed, but that wasn’t the same as being a part of her life. Keeping his distance had seemed like a good idea. Now that she was in front of him, and more beautiful than he recalled, his error was clear.
He poured her brandy and handed it to her. “Why haven’t you married?”
Her mother’s death had stopped her season early, but that shouldn’t have prevented her from having several potential suitors. Why hadn’t she had another season after her mourning period ended? Was her grief that great? She should be married, happy, and a mother of several children by now. It had been what he’d prayed for.
The tidbits he’d garnered over the years told him the little details. Riverdale, along with his daughter, remained in London, the earl remarried and had his heir, and Lady Juliette was fast becoming a spinster who rarely went out in society. He didn’t quite understand why.
“No one wants me. I was a wallflower, and then I had no season at all.”
He found that hard to believe. Who wouldn’t want her? She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known. Perhaps he saw her differently, but he doubted it. The small glimpse of her he’d had at her come out ball had been enough for him to see how lovely she’d become. It was the last sight he’d had of her before he ran to the nearest gaming hell and drowned his sorrows in a bottle of brandy. He barely recalled much after that. Somehow he’d managed to find his way home and had planned to spend the night alone.
“They’re all fools,” he said. “None of them deserve you.” He swallowed half the contents of his glass.
