Lennoxlove House

 

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, CARRICK’S carriage arrived, an extraordinarily large conveyance with elaborate, gilded cherubs and oiled-oak spoke wheels. Liveried footmen tied Juliet’s trunk to the back before she stepped inside, the satchel containing the signed contract, clutched close to her breast, and sat down on the plush velvet seat. The carriage jolted, and her heart did a flip as they rolled into motion.

Juliet stared out the window at her mother’s townhouse. They’d exchanged farewells the night before, but she glimpsed her mother in the front window. Her mother lifted a hand that clutched a hanky. An expected lump formed in Juliet’s throat and she waved in the instant before the carriage left her mother behind. Juliet collapsed back against the cushion. She was being silly. She would see her mother at summer’s end, maybe before, if rumors of the duke were true.

A man like him would tire quickly of a woman who didn’t swoon every time he entered a room. Blast it all, she nearly had swooned when she’d kissed him yesterday. What had gotten into her? The devil, that’s what. She grimaced. Was Honoria right, did her blood run hot? Nae. It was much worse than that. As much as she wanted to deny it, the man fascinated her.

 

The days marched by. After six days of travel, the carriage rolled through the market town of Haddington and pulled off the main road onto the long carriageway of the Duke of Hamilton’s Scottish estate.

With a growing sense of unease, Juliet eyed the towering pines until they parted and a magnificent castle built of honey-and-pink colored stone slowly came into view. The Hamilton banner snapped in the wind above one stone tower. Picturesque gardens and landscaped lawns rolled past the carriage windows.

The carriage stopped, then tilted to the side. When the footman opened the door, Juliet clasped her satchel and allowed him to hand her out. She descended onto a graveled drive and took a deep breath of the crisp, pine-scented air. The wind soughed through the treetops, reminding her of the dull, distant roar of the ocean.

“Miss Juliet?” a female voice called.

Juliet turned toward the castle’s front door where a freckle-faced maid bobbed on the step, urging her forward with a wave of her hand.

“Do hurry, miss.” The maid grinned. “The dowager duchess has asked to see you at once.”

The dowager duchess?

Juliet hurried to the door and followed the maid through the flagstone entrance and up the wide stairs with their ornate, walnut banisters. Heaven help her, she wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or worried that Carrick’s mother wanted to see her immediately. The dowager’s presence at Lennoxlove would ensure Carrick behaved—she hoped. She’d asked herself a hundred times why he would invite her into the same home he shared with his mother and sister. Did he care that little for convention? He said he would woo her. A tremor rippled through her as it did every time she remembered his words. A man didn’t ‘woo’ his mistress.

She broke from her thoughts when the maid turned into a room to the right.

The sitting room was painted a soft, cheerful yellow and a red-and-gold carpet covered the floor. Afternoon sun flooded the room through large windows that spanned the wall. A young, blonde-haired girl sat in a gold brocade wingback chair, squinting at a book. She glanced up.

“You must be Juliet,” a woman’s friendly greeting came from the left-hand side of the room.

Juliet whirled as the dowager duchess entered through a second door she hadn’t noticed. She was a tall woman in her late fifties with pale blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back in fashionable ringlets only lightly streaked with gray.

“My lady.” Juliet dipped into a low curtsey.

“Carrick has been singing your praises, my dear,” the woman greeted her kindly as she swept across the room. “My daughter and I are quite excited over the prospect of new gowns. I must say, the dress you’re wearing is simply stunning. Is it one of your own?”

Juliet dropped her gaze to her morning dress, a simple enough gown she’d decorated with tastefully elaborate stitching above the waistline. “Why, yes, my lady.” She smiled.

“It is gorgeous,” the dowager duchess exclaimed. “If your other creations are anything like it, I suspect we will set the pace of fashion. Carrick tells me you just graduated from Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies.”

“That is correct, ma’am,” Juliet said.

The dowager gave a business-like nod. “It’s heartening to hear that some of the young ladies of today still value a good education.”

Relief surged through Juliet. As she’d hoped, attending Aunt Honey’s school had been a wise decision. 

“But you can tell us more about that later. You must be tired from your journey.” The dowager turned to her daughter and clapped her hands. “Catherine, please show Juliet to her room.”

The girl jumped to her feet, obviously delighted to leave her book behind. “Please, follow me.” She shot Juliet a wide grin over her shoulder and darted into the hallway.

After bobbing another curtsey, Juliet followed the girl. They walked down the hall and up another flight of stairs.

“This is one of my most favorite rooms,” Catherine said as she stopped before an oak-paneled door and opened it.

Juliet entered the bedroom. A fine, gold carpet nearly covered the entire floor. An ornate chest of drawers sat on one wall with a red velvet curtained, four-poster bed on the wall opposite. The room was stunning, but Juliet had eyes only for the view beyond the balcony, visible through the open French doors. With a smile, she dropped her satchel on the bed and hurried to the balcony.

“It’s so beautiful.” Juliet leaned against the wrought iron rail and drank in the beauty of the gardens, the rolling green woodlands, and the hills beyond. She’d never dreamt she could sleep in so fine a place.

“Aye, beautiful,” Carrick’s deep voice startled her.

Juliet whirled.

He stood, tall and lean in a white shirt with dark breeches and black leather riding boots. Saints help her, she’d forgotten how handsome he was. Her heart beat a little faster.

“I see you’ve made the journey safely and in good time.” He cocked a brow at his young sister and added, “Catherine, fetch Juliet refreshments, please.”

As his sister obligingly skipped through the door, he faced Juliet again.

“I believe you have something for me.” His gray eyes twinkled with amusement. “A contract, perhaps?”

The contract. She’d signed and amended the agreement, adding their wager at the bottom. Juliet crossed to her satchel and rummaged through it. Her fingers caught on the soft folds his cravat, the one he’d worn at the Midnight Ball. She smothered a snort and pushed it aside to pull out the folded parchment beneath.

“Only until summer’s end,” she said, extending the paper toward him.

He strode to her side and took the contract from her. He stood close. Too close. Juliet frowned. The infernal man practically towered over her as he unfolded the paper, scanned its contents and tucked it into his jacket pocket. The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

His smug expression caused her frown to deepen and she crooked a finger to beckon him closer. He angled his head so close that for a moment his heat distracted her, but only for a moment. “I’ll never be your mistress.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, then dropped a kiss to the top of her ear.

Damn, but his hot breath on her ear made her heart pound.

With a wink, he bowed. “I have pressing business. If you’ll excuse me.”

Juliet watched his lean hips as he left. She rolled her eyes and picked up her satchel, then pulled out the cravat. Strange how much the little strip of silk had changed her life.

The footmen entered with her trunk and set it where she directed. As soon as they left, she set about unpacking. She’d just pulled out her sewing basket when Catherine returned with a tray of toast, tea, and fruit.

“Why, is that a cravat?” the girl asked after setting the tray down on a small table near the bed.

Juliet glanced over and snagged it from under the girl’s outstretched hand. “It’s nothing,” she quickly assured. “Nothing at all.”

Her cheeks heated as she turned and stuffed the cravat into the sewing basket.

Nothing? If it was nothing, then why was she blushing like a fool?