She frowned, furrowing her brow. Why the sudden change in topic? “Why yes. He does.”
“That he runs his fleet from Seabridge Gate?”
She gave a small jerk of her chin. “It’s a uniquely protected harbor, which makes it excellent for a business like my father’s.”
He tilted his chin down, giving her a long look. She couldn’t help but notice that his nose was rather straight and fine while his jaw had a decidedly masculine angle. “A most fortunate occupation.”
“Fortune had little to do with it. My grandfather gave this land to my father, his second son.” She narrowed her gaze. What was his game? Whatever it was, she was surely losing, though she couldn’t rightly see how exactly.
“And who is your grandfather?” His fingers tightened just a touch on her elbow and Juliet took a half step back. She refused to give him any more information.
Jerking her arm, she pulled it from his grasp. “He’s the Earl of Seabridge.” Then she gestured toward the door. “It’s time for us to step inside.”
He frowned but turned toward the door. “One more question,” he said spinning back again.
“No.” She shook her head. “No more questions. Not unless you answer some first.”
He made a sound of dissent, deep in this throat. “That hardly seems necessary.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.” And she made to step around him.
“Miss Moorish.” He reached out a hand, touching her waist with his long, tapered fingers.
She gasped in a breath. Tingling spread through her, which she deftly ignored. She notched her chin and dropped her voice in disapproval. “My lord.”
He removed his hand. “Apologies.”
“I have been trying to decide why you’re asking all these questions. While I still don’t know the answer, I do know I’m done answering them. That is, unless, you’d like to supply some information of your own.”
He drew in a long breath. “Fine. What do you wish to know?”
She raised a single brow. “I’ll meet you on one of the balconies in just a few minutes. For now, we need to make an appearance.”
“But we’re not done talking.” He stepped closer again, but she held up her hand to stop his other hand coming to her hip.
“If we don’t step into that room soon, you’ll have a joint wedding with your cousin.” She straightened her shoulders for added effect. “We might not be sophisticated ladies, but here in the country we follow the rules.” It was a lie, of course. With very few eligible men about Seabridge Gate, her father was decidedly lackadaisical about such social guidelines.
He straightened. “Really? Simple country girl is what you’re going with? You’ve given me more trouble in the last five minutes than any woman I’ve met in the last five years.”
“Thank you,” she answered, hiding her smile.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
She shrugged, turning toward the door. “I’m going to take it as one anyway. I’ll see you out on the balcony in precisely five minutes.”
Chapter Three
The little devil turned and was gone. He’d been honest. Juliet was more cantankerous than any woman he’d met for a long time. More interesting too.
The troubling part was that she’d been perfectly honest in all of her answers. Like she had nothing to hide. But surely, she must be hiding something. Chase would not have changed his mind so completely in a week.
She might not be aware of Ophelia’s deception. He’d have to talk with Chase to find out for certain. But for now, he had a meeting on the balcony with a beautiful woman. Chase could wait for a bit. And any information would help him to understand, even if she didn’t know the full extent of the truth.
For example, the knowledge that their grandfather was the earl meant Ophelia wasn’t quite as inappropriate as he’d first believed. Not that he still didn’t believe Ophelia had trapped Chase in some way.
He was positive there was more to this story.
After stepping into the room, he made his way over to the buffet and looked at the delights that filled the table. Delectable pies filled with both fruits and meats met his gaze, platters of fresh vegetables that had clearly been shipped in. He supposed that was easier when the host owned a shipping company.
He picked up a small turnover and took a bite, finding the middle stuffed with juicy and perfectly seasoned pheasant. As he ate, he caught sight of Lord Crestwood. The man was legendary in London for bedding every beautiful woman he met. Handsome and charming, Dane wasn’t surprised the man had been such a rake. And yet, at this exact moment, he was holding a piece of embroidery that he and a beautiful blonde were assessing. Dane could only assume that was Crestwood’s fianceé. The legendary rake stared down at the piece of thread thoughtfully as though he were considering the needlework just as carefully as he might a hand of cards.
The pheasant soured in his mouth and Dane swallowed the bite of food. It scraped down his throat, nearly causing him to choke. Perhaps witchcraft was a viable option after all.
He saw his stunning little redhead step out onto a balcony that overlooked the ocean. This room had three of them, each with a double door. As she disappeared from view, he realized the balconies must be larger than the doorways themselves. He set down his pie and followed her.
The sun shone brightly, sparkling off the water as a breeze touched her skin. It ruffled her hair, causing a few errant pieces about her face to drift this way and that. He resisted the urge to trap one between his fingers and test the color against his skin and the silkiness of the tress.
“You’ve got questions?” he asked as he came to stand next to her. Somehow, she fit this place. Her auburn red hair glinting in the sun as the blue water danced in the background. He watched as she drew in a deep breath.
“I do.” A small smile pulled at her lips. “First—”
“Juliet,” one of her sisters called. “Are you out here?”
Juliet. He’d heard Chase use her name as well. He liked it. There was something so warm and open about her. The name suited her personality perfectly.
“Yes,” she turned back. “I’m right here, Bianca.”
Another girl appeared in the door, the one he’d seen with Craven. “Oh.” Her sister blushed a bit as she met his gaze. “Pardon my interruption. Papa was just checking. I’ll tell him where you are.”
Juliet looked at him with her brows up as if to say, I told you so, and then she turned back to the water.
“So…” he started, not even bothering to look at the ocean. He wouldn’t pretend the bright blue and white crashing waves were as interesting as the woman in front of him. “You wanted to ask me a question.”
She nodded. “I do.”
“And?” he asked, crossing his arms. The truth was he was acting annoyed but he rather enjoyed the balcony and her company.
She looked at him, turning her head this way and that as though she were observing every aspect of him. He resisted the urge to shift on his feet, instead standing a bit taller. “You know,” she said placing a finger on her chin. “You’re quite handsome when you’re not scowling.”
He raised a brow. “Thank you?” Then he moved a bit closer. “Though your compliment would have been nicer if you hadn’t added the qualifier.”
She shrugged, a slender shoulder rising and falling. “You’ve been frowning ever since you stepped out of your carriage.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t deny that and Chase might say he was prone to being over-serious. He couldn’t help himself. Both Charlie and Chase tended to make trouble first and ask for help second. Like the time Charlie had found herself alone with a gentleman. She’d sworn it was innocent but it had taken all his effort to keep her from being ruined. “You still haven’t asked me your question.”
“Right,” she said, dropping her voice. “It’s just that you asked me several questions and I feel like you now have an advantage. You know me far better than I do you.”
He
supposed that was true. “Well you can’t get to know me if you don’t start asking.”
She nodded her head in assent and then scratched her chin. “I’ve been searching for the perfect one to ask but I think I’ve finally discovered what it should be.”
“And?” he said on a long breath. Her ability to stall rivaled even Charlie’s.
She tilted her chin to give him a long look. “Why are you so adamantly opposed to love?”
The question hit him like a bundle of bricks. She might look innocent and airy, but this woman had sniffed him out in a manner of minutes. “That’s absurd.”
She shook her head. “No, it isn’t at all. His Grace outright told you he was in love, and yet here you are, still fishing for information. You don’t believe in love or you don’t trust it, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here with such a large chip on your shoulder.”
“I don’t have to listen to this.” He turned, his gut churning as he started to head inside. Inwardly, he knew it was an innocent enough question. But she poked a wound that still festered.
“I thought you wanted information. Answer this one question and I’ll answer more of yours,” Juliet said from behind him.
He stopped. He’d underestimated her as an opponent for certain. She’d touched a nerve he didn’t like to examine himself. Her honesty had lured him into a false sense of security but that didn’t mean she wasn’t intelligent and outspoken.
Could he answer her without revealing too much to get her to answer more of his? Damned if he wasn’t tempted.
Victory sang in Juliet’s veins as she watched Hartwell draw up and slowly turn back around. His face was in taut lines of pain and she winced a bit, knowing that her questions and comments might have hurt him.
“Fine,” he said between gritted teeth. “If you must know, I don’t believe in love. I thought I might once, but it ended…badly.”
“How?” She reached for his arm and gently clasping his forearm, she pulled him back onto the balcony.
“I thought the woman in question loved me. I was wrong.”
A shadow crossed his face and he shuddered. Just the smallest bit. She might have missed it if she weren’t watching carefully but she’d seen the tiniest shake in his shoulders. The movement had reverberated through her own arm as she’d touched him.
Her gaze narrowed and she cocked her head. “Perhaps she wasn’t the right woman.”
He glanced over her shoulder toward the water. “Perhaps.”
Her hand was still on his arm; warm, hard muscle flexed under her fingertips. “Will you marry someday or has she scared you from all women forever?”
“She didn’t scare me,” he rumbled moving closer. “And, of course, I’ll marry. I only said that I won’t fall in love.”
“But you understand that Chase and Ophelia are in love? Yes?”
He cleared his throat looking away. “Love is an illusion.”
“What do they share then?”
“Infatuation at best,” he answered, frowning. “I’m not saying that it doesn’t grow into a bond but that’s different than—”
“Your parents,” she interrupted, grasping his hand with her free one. “Were they an arranged match?”
“Yes. Why?”
He’d never seen love. Not real love, the kind that grew rather than diminished as the years passed. That much she was certain of. “Just curious.” But then she drew in a breath. “Instead of judging Rathmore and Ophelia, try watching them and see if it changes your mind.” Her mouth parted in a grin. “Mine certainly did. When I see them together, I want what they have.”
And she’d come with a reasonably good plan to find her own love interest. At least she hoped it was good. She’d convinced her father to have a ball to celebrate the impending matches in her family. She’d sent invitations to anyone within a day’s ride of their home and in particular, Lord Dashlane.
Odd, but her pulse didn’t throb the way it normally did at the thought of his handsome features. In fact, she had a hard time even picturing his face. What was that about?
“You want to find love?” He was so close and his breath whispered across her cheeks, the smell of cigar and cherry tickling her nostrils.
“Of course,” she said, then stopped. She’d tried nearly everything to get Dashlane’s attention, but nothing had worked. She’d hidden her cat and forced him to help look, she’d invited him to dinner and done her absolute best to flirt, and now she was holding a ball, all to try and claim a dance.
She pursed her lips. She might actually understand Hartwell’s reluctance to believe in love after all. If she continued to try to find it without success, she might grow equally despondent. But then again, love surrounded her and she knew if she persisted it could be hers too.
“My turn for a question,” he said, low but he was so close she heard him.
“What?” she asked, closing her eyes, her breath catching a bit. What would he ask? More about her family? Her sister?
“Did your parents love one another?”
She squeezed his forearm again. “Oh yes. Very much. And their bond, it forged all of us.” She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The way his pupils dilated. He wanted to believe her.
“And you think Chase has found that kind of bond with Ophelia?”
She licked her lips before she answered until his gaze drifted down following the path. Why did the look in his eye make her insides flutter? “I do.”
He gave a tentative nod. “Thank you for your honesty. I will talk to Chase with a more open mind.”
He stepped back and the breeze hit her making her shiver and she wrapped her arms about her front. Did Juliet miss his touch? How very odd.
Chapter Four
Dane spent the rest of the brunch quietly observing. It wasn’t his nature to be in the middle of a party even under the best of circumstances. He was too serious for parties, preferring quiet family gatherings to large social functions. He’d been that way since childhood but he’d grown even more withdrawn since the death of his parents. As though he must be the parent for his cousin and his sister.
But standing in the Moorish music room, he found that he enjoyed watching the Moorish clan. They were a much larger group than he usually surrounded himself with but there was an intimacy here, an easiness he hadn’t anticipated.
And his feeling on the topic of love clarified as he watched. He did believe in love of some forms. Familial bonds were the strongest in his life and they defined him in ways he couldn’t describe. What he didn’t believe was that romantic fancy was the base of that affection. It came from hard work, commitment, not attraction. That was a distraction that ruined lives and masked real intentions. He’d learned that from Tiffany. His attraction to her, it had allowed her to manipulate and nearly destroy him.
The family shared a deep bond. They teased, poked, helped, and laughed together. He had that with Charlie, of course. And Chase. But somehow, it was different just by the sheer number of people basking in the glow of their affection.
And Juliet was often at the center of it all. Not that he needed an excuse to watch her. He’d be a fool not to understand the attraction that had sprung up between them. She was beautiful, intelligent, provocative, and…warm. There was something so honest about her that she nearly stole his breath.
He shook his head. He’d allowed her talk of feelings to steal his good sense. “Let’s play a game,” she called, clapping her hands. “What about charades?”
A clapping rose from the group and Juliet began dividing up teams. Then she stepped into the center of the circle as Ophelia, on the other team, whispered something into her ear. Wrinkling her nose, she gave a nod. Her team leaned in, preparing to guess when Juliet dropped to all fours, leaning her face toward the floor. Then, as if the sight of her with her derriere in the air weren’t enough. She stuck out her tongue and pretended to lap.
Every muscle in his body clenched. He might not believe in love but he both accepted and understood
lust. And that he had for this woman in spades.
“Cat,” Chase called.
Juliet tilted her chin and gave him an encouraging nod and white-hot jealousy ripped through Dane.
“Mittens,” a slender blonde added, holding up her finger.
“Yes.” Juliet stood, clapping again. “Well done.”
Never in his life had he acted with such abandon. While he sometimes judged Chase and Charlie harshly for being more free-spirited, he realized he was also a bit jealous. He measured every action, and in this moment, he wondered if he missed out on some of the fun. But he’d had to be the one that acted in a measured fashion. His family had needed him to be the voice of reason.
Juliet’s dancing green eyes clashed with his and suddenly she broke from the circle, rushing toward him. For a moment, he straightened, holding up one hand to stop her but she barreled past his barrier, placing her hand around his elbow and pulling him toward the circle. “Join us, Lord Hartwell. It’s quite fun.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re wasting your efforts, Miss Moorish. My brother never does anything fun.”
“That isn’t true,” Chase replied. “Your brother is very fun.” Then he clapped Dane on the back.
Charlie rolled her eyes but Dane didn’t pay attention to either of his family members. He was busy watching Juliet. She gave him a wide, unfettered smile that showed her straight white teeth behind those lush lips. He studied her mouth, wishing he could kiss her. Then he blinked. Clearly all this talk of love had scrambled his head.
“Lord Hartwell is on my team,” she called, and finally dropping his arm.
For the next half hour, they played, laughed and Dane found himself relaxing in their company. It was honest and easy and he enjoyed the brunch immensely.
Mr. Moorish approached him as the game disbanded. “My lord,” he said, giving Dane a large smile. Dane blinked, realizing it was the same open smile that Juliet had given him earlier. “His Grace tells me that you’ve booked a room at the inn, but I must extend my invitation for you and your sister to stay here. You’ll be far more comfortable.”
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 30
