Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (25 page)

Juliet paced back and forth upon the thin carpet in her chambers. Shock, horror, and terror numbed her thoughts and dulled her movements. She didn’t know what had compelled her to seek out Jonathan after his mother had demanded his attention on a matter of utmost urgency. Perhaps it was an inherent sense of calamity, but she’d gone below, and heard.

Oh God, had she heard.

She’d always known Albert to be deliberately cruel and mocking, but had erroneously assumed those sentiments were reserved for her, as the sister he could not abide. In light of what he’d done to poor Patrina, Juliet could never make amends for this great wrong.

Through her association, she bore some responsibility for Albert’s actions. If she’d not orchestrated a meeting with Jonathan, if she’d not accepted the role of governess, then Patrina would still be the innocent, sought-after sister of an earl.

Instead, she and her sisters would bear the ultimate shame. Juliet tightened her hands into fists and embraced the pain of her nails digging into her palms.

Jonathan would never forgive her and she couldn’t forgive herself.

A knock sounded at Juliet’s door, and she jerked to a halt. “Enter,” she called to Jonathan. She started as the Countess of Sinclair entered the room. “My lady,” Juliet murmured, and dropped an elegant curtsy.

The countess closed the door behind her, quiet, as though afraid the faint click might rouse unwanted interest. She stood there for a long while, her color wan. “I trusted you with my girls,” she said at last.

Juliet’s stomach roiled. “Forgive me,” she whispered, knowing the plea to be futile, but still the only offering she could make this woman.

“I trusted you, Miss Marshville, and you entered my home with not even the truth of your name or connection to my son.”

Odd, how Rosecliff Cottage had once mattered more than anything else. That small property represented the fragile connection between Juliet and Jonathan.

How could she dare tell this grieving mother that her daughter had been ruined for a modest stone cottage with nothing to recommend it but Juliet’s own memories and the rose filled gardens? Juliet sucked in a breath.

“So, I’ll ask you now, Miss Marshville, what are the circumstances surrounding your acquaintance with my son?”

The bottom fell out from Juliet’s stomach, and she sought purchase from the lone chair in her room to keep from falling. The countess crossed over to Juliet and brandished a note in her hand. Juliet lowered her eyes to the ivory velum clutched in the woman’s hands. “You see, my daughter has been deceived by your brother.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, all the while knowing how hopelessly insignificant her reasons for seeking out Jonathan would seem to this woman.

“Perhaps you are. But your apologies will not rectify the wrong done by your brother. And now, my son has set out after them, but…” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat. “But it will be futile. Patrina will be ruined and subsequently my other daughters. All because of your presence here.”

Juliet gripped the head of the chair so hard, her nails left crescent indents in the upholstered fabric. Nothing should surprise her where Albert was concerned any longer. He had always possessed a singularly cruel streak that she’d never understood. Since father’s death, however, he’d descended into a state of depravity, as if ruled by drink and gaming. Now Patrina and her sisters would pay the ultimate price, their reputations and good name, for whatever game Albert now played.

“Prudence has told me all about you, Miss Marshville.”

She blinked, pulled back from her musings.

If eyes could burn, she’d be a pile of black ash at the countess’ feet. “You are Jonathan’s lover.”

“No!” Juliet exclaimed. She flushed with humiliated shame. Because, after what had transpired between her and Jonathan in his library, was she anything but the harlot the countess saw her as?

“Do you love my son?” the countess asked bluntly.

Juliet’s gaze skidded off to the far corner of the room. Her silence her only answer.

“If you love my son, then do right by my daughters.”

Juliet’s throat worked spasmodically. “I will do anything for your girls.” Not just because of the love she carried for Jonathan. In the short time she’d come to know them, she’d come to love them like her very own sisters. His mother held the ivory velum over to her. She took it with tremulous fingers, and unfolded the page.

Sinclair,

I would trade you a sister for a sister. If you choose to ignore my request for Juliet, then you’ll find yourself with a new brother-in-law.

Signed simply,

AM

So, this was Albert’s plan. To force her return with Patrina as the pawn in his ruthless chess game.

“My son believes they are for Gretna Green, Miss Marshville,” the countess said, jerking Juliet’s attention to the moment. The older woman nodded at the page in Juliet’s hands. “But I do not think that is what your brother intends. Do you?”

Juliet folded the now heavily creased velum and handed it back to the countess. “No, my lady. I do not.”

“And I gather you know where he is, then?”

There was only one place he could go. The one place that had represented his defeat at Jonathan’s hands, and the desertion of his sister. “I do.” She would find Patrina. She would find her before she came to any greater harm at Albert’s hands. As it was, the innocent young lady had likely suffered the greatest hurt—the betrayal of a broken heart. Even if she did not yet realize it. “Will you provide a carriage, my lady?”

Patrina and Albert could not have left very long ago. They would also be traveling by carriage. Juliet’s firmed her jaw. “I’ll need access to your carriage, my lady.” She looked at this warrior mama prepared to defend her children at all costs, and a niggling of envy pebbled in her belly. Her mother died so long ago, Juliet didn’t know if the wisps of memories she carried of the woman who gave her life were real or imagined on her part. “I’ll also need the assistance of someone you trust.”

“Lord Drake,” the woman replied automatically. “I’ve sent round a missive requesting his immediate presence on a matter requiring extreme delicacy. He will be discreet.”

She swallowed hard, as the horror of her brother’s actions began to truly seep into her numbed mind. “Please, forgive me,” she said brokenly, knowing the words were meaningless to the despairing countess.

The countess’ tense mouth softened ever so slightly. “I know you care for my daughters…and my son,” she added as more of an afterthought. “I believe you’ve acted in their best interests, since you arrived, but your presence here, Miss Marshville, you must know will no longer be welcomed.”

Juliet managed a jerky nod. She may have been hopeful that life held more for her, but she’d never been delusional as to the harsh realities of life.

“If you’ll excuse me. I must see to my daughters. I’ll send a servant to summon you below stairs when the marquess arrives. Until then, I would ask that you stay in your chambers.” The countess’ meaning quite clear—she didn’t want Juliet near her daughters or any other member of the household. The countess might believe Juliet innocent of her brother’s crimes—but she couldn’t be absolutely certain, and as a result, Juliet would be asked to remain behind her doors like a thief trapped in the house, until the watch was summoned. The countess took her leave without another word.

As Juliet stood there, staring at the wood panel of the door, and waiting for her summons from the marquess she wondered at just how happy she’d been these days with Jonathan. A tear squeezed past the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

Jonathan’s life would go on. He would wed. The Lady Beatrice would give him his requisite heir and a spare. His sisters, God willing, would be spared from any hint of scandal. Their life would resume its normal cadence.

And her life? Well, it would continue, empty, alone, and desolate just the way it had before she’d known there was a man like Jonathan.

Chapter 18

For surely the thousandth time since she’d entered the Marquess of Drake’s black, lacquer carriage, Juliet pulled back the curtains and peered out at the passing scenery. Rain streamed from the skies in great, long torrents, as though the heavens cried for poor Patrina. If she were capable of tears, she would be crying right along with the heavens. The black thunderclouds had forced him off his mount and into the carriage. She looked over at Lord Drake. “How much—?”

“The roads have been slowed by the rains, Miss Marshville. It will be a while longer.”

Miss Marshville. So Lord Drake now knew, just as Jonathan’s family the vile blood that coursed through her veins.

“This is not your fault, Miss Marshville.”

Juliet drew in a slow breath. Beyond the matter of the time, the weather, and their travel plans, they were the first words spoken to her by the young marquess. “It is, though.” Her voice sounded tired to her own ears. She might not have been involved in Albert’s plans, but through her demands of Jonathan she’d ruined the girls as easily as if she’d tied a satin ribbon about Patrina’s innocent head and delivered her to Albert’s duplicitous hands.

The carriage hit a particularly uneven patch in the road and she braced herself to keep from being tossed about like a child’s toy. She could not confide in this gentleman, even though he was a friend to Jonathan, all the circumstances surrounding their families’ connection. Her lips twisted. That is, presuming he didn’t already know all.

“I have known Sin for nearly my whole life. He would not blame you for the sins of your brother.”

He’d not seen the icy rage in Jonathan’s eyes or the stiff tension in his magnificently tall frame when Juliet had come upon him outside his office. “Perhaps,” she said noncommittally. The man who’d questioned her appearance outside his office was not the same affable gentleman with an easy grin. No, he’d never loved her and whatever feelings he might have carried for her were now surely dead. To discourage any further discussion from the marquess, Juliet looked outside. She scrambled closer to the window at the familiar passing scenery. “We’re nearly there,” she breathed.

In the last moments of the journey, Juliet prayed. She prayed she’d been correct in her suspicion and would, in fact, find Albert and Patrina here. She prayed Patrina hadn’t done something as reckless as to toss away not only her heart but also her virtue on Albert. She prayed she would have the strength to not do something violent where her brother was concerned.

The carriage rocked to a slow halt at the end of a muddied road that led up to a very familiar, very dear brick-front cottage. Juliet didn’t await the driver. Instead, she tossed the door open and leapt from the carriage. Her slippers sank into the thick mud, and her crippled leg buckled. Rain streamed from the sky in a heavy torrent. It soaked her hair and ran in rivulets down her cheeks.

“Miss Marshville!”

Juliet ignored the marquess’ exclamation as she took off running toward the gated front. She skidded to a halt at the entrance and grappled with the lock, her fingers numb with the frigid cold. Then the familiar click sounded. Juliet tugged the gate open and sprinted over the cobbled path, and on to the front door. And then she froze, her hand on the handle of the door, as she braced herself for the horror sure to unfold. She drew in a steadying breath and then opened the door.

Juliet stepped inside. “Hullo?” Eerie silence was her only greeting. The steady drip of moisture from the muddied hem of her skirts echoed through the quiet.

She moved deeper into this home that had once meant so much to her. She’d been willing to cast away the opportunity of marriage and a family of her own and take a post as a governess just so she could become the rightful owner of the beloved place. Only, now, did she realize when she stripped away the love and laughter she’d known with her papa, all that remained were the empty walls of a humble structure.

She’d demanded Jonathan return Rosecliff Cottage to her but in truth what she’d wanted someone to return to her was the peace and happiness she’d once known.

The wood floor creaked. Heart pounding, she spun around. It was only the marquess. He glanced around the space with a dark frown. “Where are the servants? Why are there no candles lit?” she asked aloud, more to herself.

“Ah, it would appear my sister has arrived, and she’s been good enough to bring company.” Albert emerged from the corridor leading to Papa’s old office.

Now the Earl of Sinclair’s office.

Juliet jumped and took an unwitting step closer to the marquess.

An unholy glitter sparked in her brother’s eyes as if he delighted in her unease.

His spiteful reaction only fueled her strength. She marched over to him. “What have you done with her? Where is she?” She didn’t await an answer. Instead, she rushed around him. “Patrina?” she called. “Patrina?”

The girl came flying from the parlor. Tears stained the young lady’s cheeks. She hurled herself into Juliet’s waiting arms. Juliet held her as she sobbed against her shoulder.