Читать книгу Tall, Dark & Irresistible - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 12

‘Personally, I fail to see what is so funny in the two of us nearly being found together in such a compromising situation.’ Juliet stood in the middle of her bedchamber, frowning her consternation as Sebastian, having refastened her gown for her, stood before her, clutching his sides with laughter. ‘Lord St Claire, you must desist!’ She glared at him reprovingly when her previous admonition had no effect.

His laughter finally ceased, although his eyes continued to gleam with merriment as he looked at her, and a grin still curved those sculptured lips. ‘I apologise. I simply found myself imagining how the Duke’s jowls would wobble and the Duchess’s mouth gape open like that of a fish if they had happened to turn and see us as we made good our escape!’

‘That is most unkind, My Lord.’ Although Juliet could not deny that their flight from the terrace had been in the nature of an escape.

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex had stood at the balustrade for several minutes, talking softly together on the success of the evening, before the Duchess had linked her arm with her husband’s and the two had begun to walk down the terrace.

Thankfully in the other direction from where Juliet and Sebastian had still been hiding in the shadows.

An occurrence which had caused Sebastian to take a firm clasp of Juliet’s hand before pulling her down the steps into the garden, to stride around to the side of the house.

And all that time Juliet had clutched at the front of her unbuttoned gown in an effort to stop it sliding completely from her body, her mood one of horror as she imagined what a pretty sight she would look, with her gown about her ankles and wearing no more than her chemise and her stockings!

Luckily that had not happened, and the two of them had been able to find access to the house through one of the servant doors. They had then proceeded to sneak through the house and up the back staircase to Juliet’s bedchamber. Much like two thieves in the night!

Juliet knew she had never behaved in such an undignified manner in the whole of her thirty years. And as for finding the situation amusing, as Sebastian St Claire so obviously did …!

‘Can you not imagine it, my dear Juliet?’ he prompted with an irrepressible smile. ‘The Duke’s jowls a-wobbling and the Duchess opening and shutting her mouth like a fish!’ He went off into another bout of laughter.

Juliet could imagine it—she would just rather not. What had happened this evening—especially her own behaviour—was no laughing matter. ‘Do you ever take anything seriously, My Lord?’ she murmured critically.

He sobered immediately. ‘Of course I do. Family. Honour. Loyalty to friends.’

Family. Honour. Loyalty to friends. They were indeed fine sentiments.

They did not signify where Juliet was concerned, however. She was neither friend nor family to Sebastian St Claire. As for honour—Juliet’s own honour was in shreds!

‘I think it better if you leave now.’ She spoke softly, avoiding so much as looking at him as she rearranged her perfume bottles on the dressing table. ‘This evening was—’

‘I trust you are not going to say regrettable?’ Sebastian cut in sternly.

Regrettable? Of course Juliet regretted it! Her only consolation was that it had not been the complete success Sebastian had hoped for. ‘I was about to express my doubts that this evening’s little adventure would be enough to win the wager for you!’ she said scornfully.

‘What wager?’ He frowned down at her.

‘Oh, come, My Lord.’ Juliet gave a disdainful grimace. ‘It is common knowledge that young gentlemen such as yourself enjoy certain wagers at their clubs. Escapades like curricle races to Brighton at midnight? Or the seduction of a certain woman …?’

Sebastian winced at the accusation. It was true that many such wagers took place in private—at least he had thought it was in private!—at the gentlemen’s clubs. It was also true that a year or so ago Sebastian had entered into such a wager himself, concerning another Countess. Although he very much doubted that was the wager Juliet referred to …

‘To my knowledge there is no such wager in existence where you are concerned,’ he denied. ‘And what do you mean by a man such as I …?’ he grated.

Juliet gave him a pitying look. ‘You are nothing but a rake, sir. A scoundrel. Indeed, a privileged fop, who meanders his way through life, imbibing too much alcohol, seducing women and laughing at anything or anyone who does not share those excesses!’

As set-downs went, this was certainly the harshest that Sebastian had ever received. In fact, it was the first of its kind that he had ever received!

He was a St Claire. The youngest brother of the Duke of Stourbridge. As such, he was untouchable—both in word and deed.

Except Juliet Boyd’s opinion of him had touched him in a way he did not care to dwell upon. Perhaps because he suspected that essentially she had only spoken the truth …? He had made such wagers as those she had accused him. He was also a rake, and often behaved the scoundrel. And, as his two older brothers were so fond of telling him, his profligate lifestyle left much to be desired.

But he was the youngest son of a Duke, damn it, and had been left his own estate in Berkshire and a veritable fortune to support it and himself on the death of his parents more than eleven years ago. More wealth than even Sebastian could run through in a dozen lifetimes.

What choices did a third son have but the church— for which he had no inclination!—or to live the life of a profligate?

Sebastian’s intention, his interest in Juliet Boyd, had been no more than the light-hearted seduction of a woman who had so far proved elusive to all men but her husband. He had certainly not expected to have his very lifestyle brought into question by that lady.

He gave a stiff bow. ‘Once again, let me assure you that I know of no such wager where you are concerned, Lady Boyd. I apologise if I have offended you with my unwanted attentions. I assure you that it will not happen again.’ He turned abruptly to cross the room and open the door before stepping out into the hallway.

Juliet felt as if her chest were being squeezed, making breathing difficult and speech impossible, as she watched him leave her bedchamber. The grimness of his countenance had erased all evidence of his usual handsome good humour, making him instead every inch the aristocrat he was.

Juliet remained standing in the middle of the bedchamber as the door closed behind him with a loud click of finality. At which time Juliet ceased even trying to maintain her dignity and instead collapsed weakly onto the bed, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as tears fell hotly down her cheeks.

It really did not signify whether or not a wager concerning her seduction did or did not exist when her own behaviour this evening had been so shocking. Scandalous, even. The sort of behaviour that only a woman of loose morals could possibly have enjoyed. Women of breeding, of decency, did not—should not— feel physical pleasure in the way that she had earlier, when Sebastian had caressed and touched her in such an intimate way.

‘It would appear, Sebastian, that you have been scowling at my other guests in such a way as to cause them to completely lose their appetites!’

The darkness of Sebastian’s scowl did not lessen in the slightest as he turned to look at Dolly as she entered the dining room to sit down beside him at the breakfast table. A deserted breakfast table apart from the two of them, he now noticed. Although he seemed to recall there had been several other people present when he’d entered the room ten minutes or so ago …

He grimaced. ‘I doubt it will hurt some of them to miss a meal or two.’

‘True,’ Dolly acknowledged with an amused laugh.

Sebastian gave up even the pretence of eating his own breakfast and leant back in his chair. ‘Dolly, I am thinking of taking my leave later this morning—’

‘You cannot!’ Dolly looked shocked at the suggestion. ‘I really cannot allow you to even think of doing such a thing, Sebastian,’ she continued lightly. ‘You will quite put out the even number of my guests. Besides, we are to have a ball tomorrow evening, and I am sure you would not want to deny the daughters of the local gentry the opportunity to see and perhaps dance with the eligible Lord Sebastian St Claire!’

Sebastian did not return her teasing smile. ‘I am sure they would be all the better for being denied it!’

‘What is wrong, Sebastian?’ Dolly looked at him in genuine concern as he stared down grimly into his teacup. ‘You do not seem at all your usual cheerful self this morning.’ She gave him an encouraging smile.

‘You mean, my usual privileged and foppish self? Given to excesses and licentious behaviour?’ Sebastian didn’t attempt to hide his displeasure concerning Juliet’s opinion of his character.

Dolly looked taken aback. ‘What on earth do you mean, Sebastian?’

He grimaced in self-disgust. ‘The description is entirely fitting—do you not agree, Dolly?’

Sebastian had indulged in much deliberation over the last twelve hours. Since Juliet had told him exactly what sort of man she believed him to be. The sort of man he undoubtedly was, Sebastian had realised during those hours of reflection.

‘Of course it is not—’ Dolly broke off to consider him closely. ‘Who has said such things—surely not Juliet?’ she exclaimed. ‘Have the two of you argued?’

Sebastian gave a hard, humourless laugh. ‘I do not believe it can be called an argument when I merely listened as she told me exactly what sort of man she believes me to be.’ His expression darkened. ‘It did not paint a pretty picture.’

‘No, I would not think it did, if it was the one you have just told to me,’ Dolly conceded. ‘What she thinks of you bothers you that much?’ she asked shrewdly.

Sebastian’s scowl turned blacker than ever. ‘Only in as much as it appears to be true!’

Dolly shrugged. ‘Easy enough to change if you wish it, surely?’

He snorted. ‘And how would you suggest I go about doing that? Hawk is the Duke. Lucian is a war hero. And I very much doubt the church would suit me, or I it! No, it appears I’m stuck with being the profligate rake.’

‘I believe Bancroft mentioned he is in need of another gamekeeper … No, perhaps not,’ she said hastily, as Sebastian’s gaze became steely at her levity.

Sebastian took advantage of Dolly’s introduction of the Earl into the conversation. ‘Bancroft expressed a wish to talk to me this morning. Do you have any idea what it can be about?’

Dolly shook her head. ‘I am sure Bancroft will tell you that himself shortly.’

‘In other words you have no intention of discussing it with me even if you do know?’ Sebastian guessed wryly.

‘I would rather not,’ Dolly admitted. ‘What did you do to Juliet to make her say such hurtful things to you? Dare I ask what had happened shortly before this … exchange?’

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably. ‘No, Dolly, you may not.’

He had no intention of telling Dolly—or anyone else, for that matter—what had transpired between himself and Juliet prior to the verbal tongue-lashing he had received from her that had resulted in his present foul mood. He might be all of the things Lady Juliet Boyd had accused him of, but he was also a gentleman, and a gentleman did not discuss with a third party his relationship with a lady. Or the lack of it!

‘However, I do not believe I am being indiscreet by confiding that she is of the opinion that my marked interest in her is due entirely to a wager amongst the gentlemen at my club.’

Dolly raised an eyebrow. ‘Such wagers do exist, do they not?’

‘To my knowledge, none that concern the Countess!’ Sebastian glowered fiercely.

‘Did you inform Juliet of that?’

‘I did.’ He gave a humourless smile at the memory. ‘She chose not to believe me.’

‘Hmm.’ Dolly nodded thoughtfully. ‘You know, Sebastian, I am not at all convinced that life can have been particularly pleasant when spent with a man of such high moral reputation as Admiral Lord Edward Boyd …’

‘You think perhaps he was not so perfect in his private life?’ It was something that Sebastian was also beginning to suspect ….

‘I offer it merely as an explanation for Juliet’s condemnation of your own licentious behaviour,’ his hostess said airily.

Sebastian’s gaze narrowed. ‘Dolly, I do not suppose that you and Boyd ever—’

‘No, we most certainly did not!’ She laughed huskily. ‘My dear, he was far too much the paragon to form an alliance with one such as I. And I am sure his sort of perfection must have been very tiresome to live with on a daily basis.’

Sebastian made an impatient movement. ‘Surely you are not suggesting that tiresomeness was enough to merit his being pushed down the stairs to his death?’

Dolly grimaced. ‘I am merely saying that Juliet might be forgiven if she did want to be rid of such a man. I believe that if Bancroft should ever become so pompous and self-important I might consider taking such action myself!’

Sebastian gave a throaty chuckle. ‘If every dissatisfied wife in Society were to follow Juliet Boyd’s example as a way of ridding herself of a disagreeable husband then I believe there would be only widows left—’

Sebastian broke off abruptly as he heard a shocked gasp behind him, turning sharply to see the edge of disappearing silken skirts as the eavesdropper on his conversation with Dolly made good her escape.

He stood up abruptly. ‘Dolly, please tell me that was not she!’ he groaned. But he knew by the consternation on his hostess’s face that it had indeed been the Countess of Crestwood who had overheard their damning conversation ….

Once dressed, Juliet had gone upstairs to check on Helena, who was thankfully much improved yet still in considerable discomfort, before proceeding down to the breakfast room. Her intention had been to seek out Sebastian and offer him an apology for some of the things she had said to him the previous evening. She had come to realise, through the long hours of a sleepless night, that it was herself she was angry with, not him.

She had heard the murmur of conversation as she’d approached the breakfast room, coming to a halt in the hallway when she heard Edward’s name mentioned. She’d regretted that hesitation almost instantly, as she hadn’t been able to help but overhear the rest of the conversation.

Sebastian St Claire believed her as guilty of Edward’s death as surely as did every other member of the ton!

Hateful, hateful man. And to think it had been her intention to apologise to him this morning for her insulting remarks to him the previous evening! How much more hurtful had been his own comments just now than anything she had said to him.

‘Juliet!’

She glanced back over her shoulder to see Sebastian pursuing her down the hallway, his expression grim as his much longer strides brought him ever closer, making a nonsense of Juliet’s attempt to avoid him.

She came to a sudden halt in the hallway and turned to face him. ‘Do you have more accusations you wish to make, Lord St Claire? Possibly to my face this time?’ she challenged scathingly. ‘Do you not think that overhearing you accuse me of killing my husband is enough insult for one morning?’ Her hands were shaking so badly that she had to clasp them tightly behind her back.

Sebastian frowned. ‘I do not believe myself guilty of having done that.’

‘No?’ Juliet’s chin was raised in challenge, her eyes sparkling angrily. Anger was by far a better emotion than the tears that threatened but which she absolutely refused to shed.

‘No,’ he maintained harshly, those whisky-coloured eyes dark and stormy. ‘I accept it was wrong of Dolly and I to repeat the—the speculation that has abounded since your husband’s sudden death. But at no time did either of us claim to be expressing our own views on the subject.’

Juliet eyed him in a seething fury. ‘Perhaps you would care to do so now?’

No, Sebastian did not believe that he would. Juliet’s mood was such that anything he said to her now, especially concerning his opinion of the circumstances of her husband’s death, was sure to be misconstrued by her. ‘Perhaps the speculation would not be so rife if you ceased to maintain your own silence on the subject …’

‘What would you like me to say, Lord St Claire?’ she scorned. ‘That it was I the servants believe they heard arguing with Edward only minutes before he fell to his death? That I hated my husband so much, wanted rid of him so much, I deliberately and wilfully pushed him down the stairs in the hopes that he would break his neck?’

No, Sebastian had no desire to hear Juliet say those things. He did not want to even think of this beautiful and delicate woman behaving in such a cold and calculating way. Nor to imagine what desperation she’d felt—what Edward Boyd’s behaviour towards her could possibly have been—to have driven her to such lengths in order to be rid of him ….

A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘Are you telling me that is what happened?’

‘Oh, no, My Lord.’ Her laugh was hard and humourless. ‘It is not for me to tell you anything. You must decide for yourself what you believe to be the truth.’

His mouth tightened. ‘Is that not difficult to do when you steadfastly refuse to defend yourself?’

She gave him a pitying look. ‘I am certainly not so naïve as to even attempt to proclaim my innocence to one who has so obviously already decided upon my guilt.’

Sebastian made an impatient move. ‘Then you presume too much, madam.’

‘Do I?’ Juliet Boyd snapped. ‘All evidence is to the contrary, My Lord.’

Sebastian had never experienced such frustration with another human being as he felt at that moment towards Juliet Boyd. Could she not see that her words and actions, her continued refusal to defend herself, only damned her as being the murderess the ton believed her to be? To others, if not to him.

Her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, viewed him coldly. ‘Are you not relieved, My Lord, that I did not take your attentions to me more seriously?’

‘My attentions, as you call them, were never intended to be taken seriously,’ he bit out curtly.

‘Of course they were not.’ She gave him a disdainful glance. ‘Everyone knows that Lord Sebastian St Claire does not take anything in life seriously!’

Once again she meant to insult him. And once again Sebastian realised he had no defence against those insults ….

Dolly claimed that if he felt so inclined Sebastian had the means and the ability to change his way of life. That, third son or not, he did not have to live the life of idleness and pleasure he had so far enjoyed.

Until the last twelve hours Sebastian had never had reason to even question that life! Nor did he thank Juliet for being the reason he was questioning it now ….

‘If you will excuse me, Lady Boyd, I have a prior engagement.’ He gave a less than elegant bow. ‘Please accept my apologies for any insult, real or imagined, that you may have felt during the conversation you overheard earlier. I do assure you that no insult was intended by either Lady Bancroft or myself.’ He turned sharply on his heel and took his leave.

Tears burnt Juliet’s eyes as she watched him go. She knew that Sebastian St Claire’s light-hearted pursuit of her was finally at an end. That she had rended his interest in her asunder with her criticism of him and the way he lived his life.