How to Romance a Rake (38 page)

“I am Lord Deveril, Mrs. Turner,” he said. “I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced.”

“Of course you are,” Anna said with disgust. “I might have known you’d come to get her back. Well, I am happy to tell you, Lord Deveril, that Juliet is quite happy without you.”

“I somehow find that difficult to believe,” Alec said, trying to figure out how to get the gun away from Mrs. Turner without harming Juliet in the process.

“No,” Juliet said, to his surprise. “She’s right, Alec. I do wish to stay here with her.”

She turned and gave him a warning look before continuing. “You should go now before we are forced to make an example of you. Just as Mrs. Turner was forced to do to Lord Turlington.”

Ah, so Juliet knew what her friend had done to Turlington. And she was now trying to get him away before he ended up in similar straits. Unfortunately, he was unwilling to leave his wife behind to save his own neck. He was stubborn that way.

“You see, Lord Deveril,” Mrs. Turner said, still brandishing the pistol, “she does not wish to return with you. Though I’m afraid we will have to make an example of you anyway. I can hardly let you walk away now that Juliet has told you what I did to Turlington. A shame, really, because I know Juliet is fond of you, but we must all learn to live with the consequences of our actions.”

“No, Anna.” Juliet turned back to her former friend. “He will tell no one. He is quite trustworthy. You will see.”

“I am sorry, dearest,” Mrs. Turner said firmly, not even giving Juliet a glance as she aimed her weapon at Alec. “You haven’t learned it yet, but men are simply not to be trusted. I am sure that you would have learned of it sooner or later if you had stayed much longer with Lord Deveril, but I’m afraid that I will have to ensure that he does not carry tales from what he’s seen today.”

Alec was preparing to duck as Mrs. Turner’s finger got closer to the trigger, but before he could move, Juliet swung her walking stick upward with all her might, and Mrs. Turner, her gaze on Alec instead of her former pupil, was caught off guard. The blow caught her just where her hands were joined on the pistol, and instead of Anna pulling the trigger, the pistol itself flew across the room.

Taking the moment of mayhem for the gift it was, Alec launched himself at Mrs. Turner’s middle, throwing her to the floor in a tangle of skirts.

At the sound of Mrs. Turner’s screams and the cracking of the pistol misfiring as it hit the floor, Winterson, followed by Cecily, Madeline, and Monteith, burst into the room.

Together Alec and Juliet subdued Mrs. Turner, Juliet sacrificing the sash of her Cleopatra costume to bind her former teacher’s hands behind her back.

“I should have known you would be untrustworthy,” Anna said with disgust. “I thought I was doing you a kindness by letting you keep your walking stick.”

“That was your first mistake, Mrs. Turner,” Alec told her, holding Juliet in the circle of his arm. “You underestimated her as a foe. If you knew anything about my wife, you would know that she is entirely capable of taking care of herself.”

And that, he realized, was the honest truth.

*   *   *

It was some time later before she and Alec were able to return home, and despite the lateness of the hour, Juliet was grateful to sink into a hot bath and wash what felt like a year’s worth of grime from her exhausted body.

She was lying with her head back against the rim of the tub when she heard Alec come in.

“It seems like ages since I walked in on you in that tiny little dressing room in Gretna,” he said, kneeling behind her and taking the weight of her head and shoulders against his chest. “Do you remember?”

“How could I forget?” Juliet asked, smiling at the memory. “I was mortified that you’d discovered my secret.”

It did feel like lifetimes since they’d married. And they had certainly been through enough turmoil for a lifetime. She thought again of that moment when she’d seen that Anna intended to shoot Alec while she looked on. It had been one of the most awful moments of her life.

“Did you mean what you said tonight?” she asked Alec. “About me being able to take care of myself?”

She had never considered herself to be particularly capable or powerful. She had managed to keep her amputation a secret for so many years not through her own force of will, but instead through her mother’s. And when she’d set out to find Anna, she had asked for assistance from Alec.

“Of course I meant it,” he said against her damp hair. “Juliet, you are the strongest person I’ve ever known. Man or woman. You grew up in a household with your horrific mother and your neglectful father, yet managed to turn out with a compassionate and caring heart. You have gone through pain and hardship that would embitter a saint, yet manage to have compassion for those who haven’t endured a fraction of what you’d endured.”

“Stop,” Juliet said with a laugh. “I have just dealt with things in the way anyone else would. You are the strong one. When I think of what your father put you through it makes me want to—”

He stopped her with a kiss, a passionate affair that allowed them to share all their mutual admiration in a manner that was both satisfying and just a little bit naughty.

“Thank you for saving me tonight, wife,” he said into her ear, allowing his hands to dip down into the water of her bath and slide up and over her breasts.

Juliet bit back a moan at his touch. “Of course. I could hardly let my teacher shoot the man I love,” she said breathlessly.

She realized what she’d said when Alec’s hands stilled.

“What did you say?” he asked, almost as if he were afraid to hear her answer.

She’d been afraid of this. She hadn’t intended to tell him of the change in her feelings at all, but she’d been caught up in the moment. And she
had
been unwilling to let her teacher harm him. Not only because he was a person who deserved to live, but also, and most especially, because she, Juliet, loved him.

“I believe you heard me,” she said quietly, glad he was behind her so that she wouldn’t need to look into his eyes as he told her how sorry he was to hear how she felt about him.

“Say it again,” he said, a frisson of some unknown emotion in his voice. “Please, Juliet. Say it again.”

She pulled away from him and clasped her knees to her chest. “You needn’t humiliate me, Alec. I said I loved you.”

She felt a burning in her nose that presaged tears, and prayed that he would leave before she embarrassed herself.

“Humiliate you?” he asked, his voice puzzled as he stood and walked around to the other side of the tub where he could see her face. When she refused to look up at him, he climbed, breeches and all, into the tub with her and fell to his knees before her. Annoyed at his persistence, Juliet childishly covered her face with her hands.

“Why should I wish to humiliate you, my dear?” he asked, pulling her hands away from her face. “Why would I do such a thing to the woman I love?”

Daring to open her eyes and look at his face, so dear to her now, she saw that he was utterly sincere.

“You … you love me?” she asked cautiously, watching with awe as his worried expression turned into a grin. “You love me.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing her on the nose. “And you love me?”

“I do,” she confirmed, breathless as he somehow managed to adjust their positions so that she was sitting on his very eager lap.

“Then, Lady Deveril,” he said against her ear, “I think we should set about engaging in an activity that is by many called a physical expression of that love.”

“You wish to sing a duet?” Juliet asked guilelessly, moving shamelessly against his erection.

“Oh, I will have to punish you for that, wife,” Alec growled, heedless of the water sloshing over the sides of the tub.

And it turned out to be a very pleasurable punishment, indeed.

Epilogue

“So,” Juliet told her cousins the next afternoon over the tea tray, “Anna helped Turlington by luring the fallen women to his studio, and when she realized that he was rather more interested in adding to their fallenness than in using them to warn others of the dangers of men, she poisoned him.”

“I can hardly believe we simply allowed her to run tame among us for all those years without knowing what a danger she posed,” Cecily said, sipping her tea. Taking another macaroon, she waved off Madeline’s frown. “Hush, Maddie, the baby likes macaroons.”

“I’m sure the baby does,” Maddie said with a roll of her eyes, “but I suspect Cecily likes macaroons too.”

Ignoring her cousin’s teasing, Cecily turned back to Juliet. “But I want to know what is to become of Baby Alice. Did Mrs. Turner reveal who the poor darling’s father is?”

“Alice will remain with us,” Juliet said firmly. “Anna refuses to reveal who her father is and there is nothing we can do to make her. In the meantime, Alice will be looked after as if she were our own. If at some point we learn who her father is, then we will deal with it.”

“So how are you, dearest?” Maddie asked, her eyes serious. “I know it cannot have been easy for you to learn that Mrs. Turner was so willing to sacrifice you for her cause.”

Juliet considered the question. “If I were in the same position I was in when Anna first disappeared,” she said, “I have no doubt that her betrayal would have been soul-crushing.”

“But…?” Cecily asked, clearly waiting for more.

“But,” Juliet continued, “I am no longer that same girl who relied upon her friends to prop her up. I am no longer at the mercy of my mother. And I am no longer burdened with keeping the secret of the true extent of my infirmity.”

“And?” Maddie asked, her brows raised in expectation.

Juliet tilted her head and gave a moue of disgust. “I should have known better than to keep any detail of my personal life from the pair of you. I shouldn’t be surprised if you listened at keyholes.”

“Do not be foolish, Juliet,” Cecily chided. “We would never listen at keyholes when there are servants to bribe.”

“So, you might as well tell us, Juliet,” Maddie added. “We’ll find out somehow.”

“Very well,” Juliet said with ill grace. “If you must know, Deveril and I … that is to say, we—”

“Dear heavens, I’ve had faster head colds than this,” Cecily complained.

“We are in love,” Juliet said finally. Then against her will, because she was just so pleased with the news, she grinned. “There,” she said with the happiest
humph
ever, “is that what you wished to hear?”

Cecily laughed, and Maddie clapped, before they each hugged their cousin heartily.

“This is the best news I’ve heard since Cecily told us she was
enceinte,
” Maddie said with a grin.

“Oh!” Juliet said, sobering. “Speaking of that day…”

“Never say you are expecting too!” Maddie said, her eyes widening.

“No! No! Heavens, no!” Juliet said, real alarm in her face. “At least I don’t think so.”

She did some mental calculations. “No.”

“So, what about that day?” Maddie asked, puzzled, looking to Cecily, who would not meet her eye.

“Well, if you will recall,” Juliet said, reaching into her reticule, “it was on the day that she told us about the baby that Cecily gave me this.”

She held out Amelia Snowe’s dance card, which Maddie seemed reluctant to take.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Don’t you wish to take the
ton
by storm?”

As if drawn to the token against her better judgment, Madeline took it from Juliet’s hand. “It’s not that I don’t wish to leave the ranks of the spinsters and the wallflowers,” she said. “It is deadly dull.”

“Then what bothers you?” Cecily asked, rubbing her arm in an effort to soothe her cousin’s nerves.

“Well,” Maddie said, her face unusually serious, “you both found husbands and fell in love when you used the dance card.”

“Yes,” Juliet agreed. “We did.”

“I don’t need the dance card for that,” Maddie said.

“What do you mean?” Cecily demanded, her voice high. “Are you married?”

“Don’t be absurd, Cecily,” Maddie said, “of course I’m not married.”

“Then what?” Juliet asked. “What is it?”

“Well,” Maddie said with unaccustomed shyness, “it’s just that I have another plan to distinguish myself. Something that doesn’t involve dancing or balls or husbands or any of that. And I hope that it will do some good in the world.”

“But what is it, Maddie?” Cecily asked, intrigued. “Whatever it is, I am sure that Juliet and I will be happy to help you.”

“Of course we will,” Juliet said with a nod.

But Maddie wondered. Now that Cecily was a duchess and Juliet a viscountess, perhaps they would not be so eager to support her plan. After all, they had their families to think of now. Still, she would give them the benefit of the doubt. Taking a deep breath, she said, “A novel. I am writing a novel.”

There was a long silence as Cecily and Juliet took in the news. Followed by a loud series of squeals.

“Darling,” Juliet said with a grin, “why didn’t you say so? Of course we will support you! We love novels!”

“You goose,” Cecily chided. “I was quite afraid that you were going to announce that you were going to take up driving coaches or smoking a pipe.”

Maddie laughed at that. “I cannot stand the smell of tobacco, Cecily. You know that.” She gave heartfelt sigh. “I am so glad you approve. I was terrified that you would both be less than pleased. I mean, all the fashionable people prefer poetry to novels. And the sort of novels I mean to write will not be the genteel sort like Miss Austen’s. Instead mine will deal with real hardships. And vice.”

“Then we shall love them all the more,” Juliet said loyally. “Though I do adore Miss Austen’s stories.”

“I do too,” Maddie said, squeezing her cousin’s hand. “But I wish to tell stories about more than just courtship and love.”

“So long as you do not give up on courtship and love all together, dearest,” Cecily said, reaching out to grab her cousin’s other hand. “I know that you mean to distinguish yourself with your writing, but I want you to take the dance card with you anyway.”

When Maddie opened her mouth to object, Cecily held up a staying hand. “I know that you do not much care for the idea of it, but I cannot help but want the same kind of marital happiness for you that Juliet and I have found. Please, Maddie, will you take the dance card? For me? If for no other reason than that I suspect it is a lucky charm of sorts for us. And you will need luck as well as talent to become a successful novelist, won’t you?”