How to Romance a Rake (19 page)

“Agreed,” Winterson said. “Cecily has been worried about Juliet of late, especially since Lady Shelby has pressed more strongly for the match with Turlington. It’s one of the reasons she and Madeline have been pushing for her to make herself more visible in the
ton.
”

Alec nodded. “I suspected as much. I know Juliet has been grateful for their support.”

“Well,” the duke said, rising from his chair. “All that remains is for you to ask Juliet for her consent, and you can be off for Gretna.”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked, the idea that Juliet might refuse him stopping him in his tracks. “Of course she’ll consent.”

Winterson shook his head in disappointment.

“A word of advice, old fellow,” he said, slipping a companionable arm round Alec’s shoulders, “do not ever take a woman’s response to a question for granted. They are a wise and wonderful sex, but predictable, they are not.”

And mulling over those words of advice, Alec followed Winterson up the stairs to Cecily’s sitting room.

*   *   *

“Tell me what’s happened,” Cecily said, handing her cousin a cup of tea.

Juliet closed her eyes in appreciation of the warm, sweet drink. Calmed by the ritual of it, she felt better able to face Cecily’s questions.

“Mama all but ordered me to marry Turlington,” she said bitterly. “And when I refused she threatened to give me to him without benefit of marriage.”

Cecily put down the creamer with a thud, rattling the china spread out over the table.

“And what did you say?” she asked, her voice hot with anger. “I hope you told her to go to the devil!”

“Well, I told her she was little better than a procuress. That was when Alec came in.” She did not tell of the blow her mother had delivered to her face. It was probably evident, but she could not speak of such a thing, even with Cecily.

“And what was his response? I could wish he’d drawn her cork, but of course as a gentleman he could never do such a thing.”

“Oh, I think he wished to,” Juliet said with a rueful smile, remembering her relief at seeing him standing there in the doorway looking ready to commit murder on her behalf. “But he settled for telling her that she was unfit to be a mother to anyone, and that if she went through with her plans he would see to it that the whole
ton
learned of it and she’d be shunned from good society forever.”

“Ah.” Cecily nodded. “A perfect threat. If there’s anything Aunt Rose fears more than being ostracized, then I don’t know what it is.”

“Yes, that’s just what I thought,” Juliet said, “but I think she underestimated how much Alec had overheard. She actually tried to seduce him into dropping his threat. Which he resisted, of course. One only had to look at his face to know he’d sooner bed an asp.”

“Juliet!” Cecily’s eyes widened in shock at her cousin’s words. But then she let out a reluctant giggle. “Though you are right. She does bear much resemblance to a poisonous snake.”

“She realized soon enough that no amount of flattery or coercion on her part would change his mind. Then she told me to follow her, which I ignored. A few moments later Turlington’s footman came saying she’d given orders that neither one of us was to leave the room.”

“Oh, dear. I feel sure Lord Deveril didn’t like that.”

“No.” Juliet grinned. “Lord Deveril did not. He told the fellow that if he knew what was good for him he’d let us go at once. And then he gave the man his card and said that if Lord Turlington gave him the sack, he should get in touch with the butler at Deveril’s town house to see about another position.”

“Ah, smart man,” Cecily said with approval. “In these times good positions are hard to come by and unless Turlington is kinder to his servants than he is to his prospective fiancées then no servant with two thoughts to rub together would agree to stay on for less wages.”

Juliet nodded. “So, Alec led me into the hallway and we slipped out through the back garden and waited for his carriage.”

“I cannot help but notice that you call him Alec,” Cecily said, looking at Juliet over the rim of her cup as she sipped her own tea.

“Yes,” she said carefully, feeling her cheeks burn. “We are friends, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well … I mean to say … we are … um…”

“I am sorry, my dear, but I don’t recall ever being moved to blush over a friendship,” Cecily said gently.

Juliet looked down under her cousin’s knowing gaze, but said nothing.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” Juliet demanded. “Don’t be absurd! It’s as I said, we are just—”

“Oh, cut line, Juliet. You haven’t been able to keep your eyes off him all season.”

“Well, maybe I have a bit of a
tendre,
” she admitted. “But I am not so foolish as to have formed a serious attachment. I mean, look at him!”

She gestured downward toward the sitting room where Winterson and Deveril were talking.

“And look at me,” she continued, waving a hand from her head to her toes. “I am well aware that I am no prize. And add in my limp and I’m positively doomed to spinsterhood.”

“Oh, do not be so dramatic. You are doomed to no such thing.”

“Right,” Juliet said bitterly, resting her head against the back of the chair. “I do have one man who would love to marry me. Or bed me, at least. I musn’t discount Lord Turlington.”

“My,” Cecily said with surprise, “I never thought you to be maudlin or have a propensity to feel sorry for yourself.”

Juliet sighed and passed a weary hand over her eyes. “I am having a trying time of it just now. My apologies.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” her cousin said, touching her lightly on the shoulder. “I am a beast to tease you. But I really do hate to hear you say those things about yourself. It is nothing more than what your mother wishes you to think. Because she is a spiteful, jealous cat who cannot endure the idea that her own daughter might be more appealing than she is.”

Smiling ruefully, Juliet reached up to cover her cousin’s hand with her own. “I wish you were right, but I have seen myself in the glass. And I am nowhere near as beautiful as she is. Though I will admit that I am certainly a much more pleasant person.”

“Darling, you are far and away more pleasant than any of the Fabulous Featherstones. And that includes my own dear stepmama.”

Juliet was saved a response by the sound of Winterson opening the door. He stepped into the room, followed closely by Alec.

“Come, Your Grace,” the duke said, leaning down to take Cecily’s hand. “Let’s go have a drink in the other room.”

The duchess frowned. “What do you mean? We have tea right here. And weren’t you and…”

Then, catching her husband’s meaningful glare, her eyes widened.

“Oh! Yes, of course, we keep the special wine in your study, don’t we? I for one could use some. It’s been a very eventful evening.”

She paused before Deveril, but Juliet couldn’t see what passed between them, just that he gave her a nod that seemed … reassuring. What on earth was going on?

*   *   *

The air seemed to vacate the room along with Winterson and Cecily, but as Alec watched Juliet, her green eyes glistening in the firelight, he realized that he wasn’t the only one suffering an attack of nerves.

“Are you well?” he asked, stepping closer to where she perched on the edge of a chintz-covered chair. He noted with a hint of annoyance that she’d torn her gown in their haste to exit Turlington’s house. The reminder of just what she’d run away from tonight solidified his resolve to ensure she was never so mistreated again. “You did not hurt your leg, did you? In our haste to leave?”

Wiping her gloveless palms on the skirt of her gown, Juliet shook her head. “No,” she said, “I am fine.” Though she was clearly not at ease, she was also not cowering from him. That was something, at least.

Stopping before her chair, he went down on his haunches before her so that they were eye to eye. This close, he could see the tiny freckles that dusted her cheeks and nose, and the darkness of her lashes against her pale skin. Her face, though pretty enough, boasted something that most ladies of the
ton
wanted but could never have: character. It shone in her intelligent eyes, and her expressive mouth.

“You know why I am here, do you not?” he asked softly.

She was not stupid, his Juliet. She knew what he meant to ask.

“But,” she said quietly, “you need not do it. I am sure that Winterson and Cecily would be able to find somewhere…”

His eyes dropped to where her hand twisted nervously in the fabric of her skirt. She was not entirely composed, it would seem. He covered her hand with his, stopping its motion.

“No,” he said firmly, his voice harsher than he’d intended. “You should not have to spend the rest of your days running from them.”

She kept her eyes downcast. He lifted her chin with a finger so that he could gauge her emotions.

“I don’t think you wish that either,” he said softly. “Do you?”

“No,” she said, turning her gaze from his, as if the intimacy of it was too much. “But neither do I wish for you to sacrifice yourself simply because you happened to be the one to rescue me tonight. That hardly seems fair. Especially given what you told me this afternoon. You can hardly have changed your mind in the space of a few hours.”

“The situation has changed in the space of a few hours,” he said simply. He moved his head so that she had no choice but to see him. “And so have my thoughts on the subject.”

“Well, perhaps they have, but you shouldn’t have to marry me for it. You did nothing wrong. And it’s not as if we…” She paused, her silence implying what she would not say aloud.

“No,” he said with a wry smile. “We did not…” He indicated her silence with a wave of his hand. “And yet, we came very near last night. And unless I am mistaken, ladies have been compromised over far less than that.”

“I won’t have you marrying me out of some misguided sense of obligation, Alec,” she said, resolve causing her nervousness to ebb away. “If the choice is between you and Turlington, then of course I would choose you. But there is a third option. I can marry neither of you and live on my own. Indeed, I had all but decided as much this afternoon.”

“After our discussion, you mean?

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Juliet snapped. “You aren’t the only man in London, you know. I only meant that this afternoon I came upon the notion of ruining my reputation all on my own, so there is no need for you to marry me. I can simply use tonight’s fracas as the means for it. Indeed, I count tonight’s events as a blessing.”

“What of the damage to
my
reputation?” Alec demanded. “I can hardly find suitable matches for my sisters if I’m under the cloud of scandal for compromising you and then refusing to marry you.”

Juliet blanched.

“I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to remove the taint of being heir to Devil Deveril. And to some degree I’ve succeeded. But ruining your reputation will also ruin mine. And by association those of my sisters.”

“So, your protests about not being able to give me the sort of marriage I deserved were only valid until your reputation was threatened?” she demanded.

“Of course not,” Alec said, thrusting a hand through his carefully coiffed curls. “I still think you deserve a lifetime of happiness. Tonight’s circumstances haven’t changed that. I shall simply have to ensure your happiness myself.”

Juliet stared at him. Of all the expectations she’d harbored for this evening, receiving a proposal from Alec had not been chief among them.

“I cannot ask it of you,” she said, reaching out to grasp his hand in spite of her determination to keep him at a distance. “I will simply retire to one of Winterson’s estate properties in the country. And you will find someone more suitable to wed. Someone who will bring consequence to your sisters.”

“But what if I don’t want someone more suitable?” Alec asked, his gaze unwavering. Despite his earlier determination to push her away, he now found himself wanting more than anything for her to agree to wed him. He still thought she deserved better. But at some point, he’d gone from trying to protect her from him, to wishing to protect her from the rest of the world. At least he knew
his
intentions were honorable. Which was more than he could say for Lady Shelby or Turlington.

Juliet had not actually confessed yet to not wishing to marry him, he noted, allowing a sliver of hope to work its way into his chest. “What if I want you?

“Juliet.” He felt her hand, still gripped in his, tremble slightly. “I could wrap this up in all sorts of romantic folderol, or confess myself to be madly in love with you or compose an ode to your freckles. But we would both know it was false. I wish for us to start things out with sincerity. And I like you far too much to lie to you.”

She did not reply, just nodded for him to continue.

“It is true that I have been considering marriage this season. And perhaps I might, if left to my own devices, have chosen someone else. Someone I liked less. Someone I could keep at arm’s length. But that’s beside the point. You are the one I kissed quite thoroughly in your parents’ back garden. You are the one I whisked away from Turlington’s house tonight. I might have tried to warn you off this afternoon, but you’re the one I went to see at Turlington’s. You’re the one I’m asking to marry me, now. It’s you. I am asking you.”

He took both her hands in his now and squeezed. He wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself.

“Will you?” he asked. “Will you marry me?”

Ten

She had to be dreaming.

That was the only explanation for the fact that she was sitting in Cecily’s sitting room receiving a proposal from Lord Alec Deveril, one of London’s most handsome, fashionable gentlemen. But even in her dreams she wouldn’t have entertained what could only be an unattainable fantasy. Her ability to dream had disappeared along with her childhood in a Vienna street years ago.

And yet, it seemed real enough. She felt his strong hands grasping hers. She felt the heat of his body as he knelt before her, gazing expectantly at her as if awaiting a reply.