Chapter Eleven

It was the third day since Juliet had cancelled her wedding. She’d spent the time in her room, first cutting into strips her wedding gown, and then feeding the pieces into the fireplace. She refused to leave her bedchamber, or accept company. Every tray of food that arrived was returned untouched.

She knew there would be complications, but she was sure they would marry.

It was interesting. Never in her life had Juliet been a complication. The darkness that had overcome her when she awoke from the swoon Lady Crampton’s words had caused had not lifted for one single moment. She did not know what day it was, or if it was breakfast or dinner on the last tray she’d sent away.

She hadn’t bathed, brushed her hair, or slept. One glance in the mirror told her how horrible she looked. Not that she cared. Moving to the bed, she sat at the edge and contemplated what disturbed her the most about her situation.

Like her sister before her, it seemed she too was in a family way with no husband. And from what she’d heard, the man she’d expected to be that husband already had a child with another woman who was madly in love with him.

True, given the stress of the wedding plans, and Graham being away, her courses could merely be late. However, given she was as regular as clockwork, and she and Graham had sexual relations a few weeks ago, it did not bode well for her.

Of course, perhaps she, Graham, and the mother of his other child could travel together to a country where they allowed more than one wife, and all live together as one big happy family. She groaned at her own thoughts and crawled up on the bed, smothering her head in the pillow. Tears, that seemed to be a huge part of her life lately burst from her eyes, and she sobbed.

A scratch at the door had her wiping her eyes. “Yes?”

“Juliet, it’s Marigold. Let me in.”

She’d already turned Marigold away once, and Lady Crampton twice, but it seems they were not going to leave her alone, so she might as well endure this visit. Truth be known, she was quite tired of her own sad company,

“Enter.”

Her sister poked her head around the door. “Are you all right?”

Juliet drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Why wouldn’t I be all right? I just leaned my erstwhile betrothed accompanied his pregnant lover to France last year. Fool that I am, I allowed him to convince me the time away meant nothing to him, and accepted his proposal.”

Marigold entered the room and sat alongside her on the bed.

Juliet rested her chin on her knees. “And now I have reason to believe Lord Hertford has another pregnant lover to deal with.”

At first Marigold looked confused, then she sucked in a deep breath. “Oh no. Truly?”

She turned to rest her cheek on her knees, looking Marigold in the eye. “Do you think I would joke about something like that right now?”

***

It had taken Graham two days more after his meeting with Boyle to finish up what he needed to do in Suffolk. In the meantime, he sent a missive to his man of business in London to have him look into Boyle’s background.

He was bone weary when he arrived at his London townhouse, having ridden through, only stopping for food and to change horses. Trudging up the stairs, he greeted his butler as the door swung open. The look on the man’s face brought him up short. “What is wrong?”

“Good day, my lord. Lady Crampton has been for a visit twice. She left a note for you the last time, urging that I present it to you the minute you arrive.”

“Lady Crampton? Lady Juliet’s companion?”

“Yes, sir.” He held out a piece of cream-colored vellum. “Here.”

Frowning, and a bit concerned, he opened the missive.

My Lord Marquess,

It is of the upmost importance that you meet with me as quickly as possible. Please send a note upon your return. I will meet you at Gunter’s at whatever time you state. Please do not call at Lord Pomeroy’s townhouse.

Lady Selina Crampton

What the devil was going on? Had Juliet taken ill? He dashed off a note to Lady Crampton that he would meet her at Gunter’s in an hour’s time. That gave him enough time to bathe, and present himself as a gentleman.

Any fatigue he’d felt upon arriving home vanished at the note. He tapped the paper against his lips as he hurried upstairs after ordering a footman to have his bath prepared since Carson was behind him in a carriage with his luggage.

It was exactly an hour later that Graham arrived at Gunter’s. Not seeing Lady Crampton immediately, he took a table and ordered tea and pastries. Within minutes, Lady Crampton hurried up to him. By the look on her face he had a feeling she had not arrived with good news.

Right now, only a few days before their wedding, Juliet’s companion should have been very busy with fittings, floral arrangements and menu planning, not taking out time for surreptitious meetings with the intended groom. He stood as she arrived at the table. “My lady.” He bowed and pulled out a chair for her.

Her face was flushed under the veiled hat she wore. She almost looked as if she were trying to disguise herself. Something was terribly wrong, and a very uncomfortable feeling caused knots to form in his stomach. “Tea, my lady?”

She seemed almost surprised to see the tea things on the table. She nodded and poured herself a cup and took a sip. Her hand shook as she placed the cup in the saucer.

“What is it, my lady?”

“A few nights ago, Lady Juliet, Lady Marigold and I attended a ball at Lord and Lady Livingston’s house.” She stopped and took another sip of tea. “While I was there, I had a conversation with Lady Windham. She told me the story of a trip she and her husband took last year to France.”

Bloody hell. Did the woman see him and Amy? He broke into a sweat. “And what of it, madam?”

Lady Crampton leaned forward. “She saw you and a young lady leave the packet from Dover to Calais together. The young lady had befriended her during the journey and told a story of being with child, and very much in love with the babe’s father. She was apparently being escorted to Paris to have the child there.” She gave him a quelling look. “Away from the eyes of London.”

He sucked in a deep breath, fighting the panic that started in his toes and raced all the way to his pounding heart. “And of course you told Lady Juliet?”

She stiffened in her seat and glared at him. “It was my duty, my lord. Well you should know Lady Juliet has cancelled the wedding, and will not speak to anyone the past three days. She won’t eat, she doesn’t sleep, and we are all worried sick over her.” She placed her hands around the tea cup and raised her chin, the fire of a woman protecting her young in her eyes. “What have you to say for yourself, Lord Hertford?”

***

Lord Maxwell Pomeroy stood at the window to his library, his hands clasped behind his back. One of his little girls was heartbroken, and he wanted to take his fists to someone. Not to someone. To one particular one.

The Honorable, the Marquess of Hartford. He snorted. Nothing honorable about the man. Once the man showed himself in London, he would invite him to Gentleman Jim’s and beat the living daylights out of him. No matter that he was a few years older, he was angry enough to do the scoundrel real damage. No one hurt his little girl.

He turned at the scratch at the door. “Yes.”

Lady Crampton entered the room. He always smiled when he saw her. The best thing he’d done in ages was hire her to chaperone the girls. After the trouble Elise got into last year, he was sure everything was aboveboard where Juliet was concerned. Lady Crampton did a superb job of keeping an eye on things. No more early babies.

Despite his anger, he gave her a warm smile. She had certainly brought a lot of happiness to the house since her arrival. “Yes, Selina, what is it?” Sometime back they had reverted to first names when in private.

“Maxwell, I need for you to sit down. I have something to tell you.”

“Certainly. You look quite serious.” He waved her to a seat by the fireplace, a little concerned that she was intending to leave him. He could never allow that. Marigold would need her next year.

The devil take it. His thoughts began to churn. Had she found a man at one of these events that wanted to marry her? Of course, that was a possibility. She was certainly an attractive woman. He had no idea why, but that unsettled him more than he wished. Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, he said, “You seem a bit troubled. What is the problem?”

“Now, Maxwell, I want you to remain calm while I tell you this.”

He moved forward in his seat, his heart pounding. “The devil take it, Selina. You cannot leave! Marigold will have her Season next year, and I need you to see to it.”

Her eyes grew wide at his tone. “I have no intention of leaving.”

He broke into a smile. “Good. Good. Now what is it you wanted to see me about?”

Eyeing him strangely, she said, “I met with Lord Hertford a short time ago.”

“What! Is the bounder back in town? I shall invite him to Gentleman Jim’s and have a go at him. I am not too old to beat that blackguard. He will pay for the distress he has caused my daughter.”

She shook her head. “Now, Maxwell, I specifically asked you to remain calm.” She waved her hand at him. “This is hardly calm.”

“I do not understand you, the mother of two little girls. Would you not wreak havoc on a man who treated one of your daughters in such a cavalier way?”

“Certainly, and you must know I feel the same for Marigold and Juliet as I do for my own little girls. However, I have reason to believe there is more to the story than what meets the eye.”

Pomeroy jumped up and strode to the sideboard. “Would you care for a sherry?”

“Yes. I believe I would.”

He poured himself a brandy, and brought a glass of sherry to Selina. She took a sip and closed her eyes. He stared at her as her throat worked, and felt a flush of heat he hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

She opened her eyes and he quickly closed the mouth he hadn’t realized hung open. “When I confronted Lord Hertford with the story Lady Windham told me, he was extremely upset, but not for the obvious reason. He seemed much more frustrated than embarrassed or guilty. He told me there is much more to the story, but unfortunately, he was unable to elaborate because of a promise he’d made.”

Pomeroy snorted. “So, he cannot say what the rest of the tale is, but expects us to forgive and forget? Not bloody likely.”

“Maxwell! Language.”

He grinned at her sheepishly. “I apologize, ‘twas not well done of me, I’m afraid.”

She nodded an acceptance of his apology. “In any event, he asked that we escort Juliet to an estate in Suffolk that belonged to the late Duke of Reading. He assures me there is someone in residence there who can explain it all to her.”

Pomeroy shook his head. “She will never consent.” He studied Selina for a minute. “Tell me, and I trust your judgment. Do you feel whoever this person is he wants us to see, and the story he will tell, might change things? Just might ease Juliet’s suffering?”

“It is truly hard for me to say. But my instincts tell me that Lord Hertford is very much in love with Juliet, and is convinced once she hears what this person in Suffolk has to say, she will change her mind.”

Pomeroy rubbed his chin. “I do want her to be happy, and she certainly is not happy right now.”

Selina remained silent, just watching him.

“Very well. We will kidnap Juliet. First thing in the morning. Send word to Hertford to send our driver the direction, and then meet us there tomorrow.” He sat back and sipped his brandy. “This better be good. Perhaps I should bring my pistol with me.”

“My lord!”