“At least they’re concerned over those poor women convicts.”
“It’s not the women they care about; it’s Blackmore’s stepsister. I suppose you heard about that, too.”
She nodded.
“No one on the Navy Board would say whether Miss Willis was taken with the others—apparently, it’s some great secret—but the earl is enraged all the same. And when the great Blackmore is enraged,
they’re
enraged. They want the Pirate Lord’s head, and failing that, Morgan’s.” He grimaced. “I swear, if Morgan has gotten himself involved with kidnapping a gentlewoman—”
“Yes, that would be truly awful,” she put in dryly. “Kidnapping a gentlewoman—what kind of scoundrel would do
that
?”
He blinked, then groaned.
She took a petty pleasure in his discomfort. “You Blakely twins seem to have a penchant for this sort of thing. I do hope Morgan comes out of it as well as
you
have.”
His eyes narrowed. “What the devil do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Only that you have yet to suffer any inconvenience because of what you did. You won’t even tell my family of your part—”
“One word from Knighton to the Navy Board about my kidnapping you, and any possibility of a pardon for Morgan vanishes, even if Morgan had naught to do with this latest outrage. You know very well I can’t risk it!”
She ground her teeth in sheer frustration. Why was the man cursed with such a perverse sense of duty to his family? “You needn’t tell Griff about Morgan, you know. He still thinks your brother is dead. Just let him believe that. Tell him why you kidnapped me, and leave it at that.”
“Then he’ll wonder why I didn’t simply tell the truth
from the beginning. Why I blamed it on my brother.” He drew himself up stiffly. “He’ll think I was too cowardly to admit what I’d done. That won’t make him any more eager to countenance a marriage between the two of us, will it?”
“I don’t care what he countenances! I want him—and the rest of my family—to hear the truth.” She put some distance between them, though it wasn’t easy to do when he held her with all the intimacy of a lover. “You won’t change my mind on this, you know. If you won’t tell him until after Morgan returns, then we won’t marry until then.”
He glowered at her. “All the same, I shall ask Knighton for your hand.” His hand slid to her back. “At least we can be engaged while I’m cleaning up this mess.”
“No.” Leave it to Sebastian to try to wriggle through her conditions however he could. She saw Rosalind across the room speaking to Lady Brumley, who was probably trying to find out how much of the gossip about Juliet was true. That firmed her resolve. “Until you can ask Griff properly, I won’t accept any offer of marriage from you. If you even mention marriage to him, I’ll tell him flat out that I refused you, and that will hamper your efforts later.”
“Deuce take it, be reasonable!” he hissed. “It won’t be long before Morgan returns, one way or the other. Blackmore is going after the Pirate Lord with a well-armed crew. If Morgan is no longer with the pirates, then he should be in England any day. If he is still with them, Blackmore will bring him back in chains, as Morgan deserves. But one way or the other, the whole matter will be settled soon enough. So if we agree to marry—”
“No, I tell you,” she said firmly. “Until this is all worked out, I’m not agreeing to anything.” Because then he’d find another way around it, another reason, and she’d be marrying a man her family didn’t really know. “As you say, it’ll be settled soon enough.”
Eyes hard as onyx glared down at her. “You do know you’re being incredibly exasperating, irritating—”
“Don’t forget ‘childish’,” she put in.
“—and stubborn?”
She tipped her nose up airily. “Then I wonder why you want to marry me.”
The anger in his expression was suddenly tempered by a healthy dose of desire. “If we were alone, sweeting, you wouldn’t have to wonder.” He danced his fingers sensuously across her back, stopping just short of smoothing them down over her derriere. But she could feel the heat of them, muted by her silk gown and his kid gloves, but palpable all the same against her spine. “Perhaps you’d fancy a walk in Feathering’s gardens.”
Her mouth fairly watered at the thought of slipping outside with him where he could kiss her and caress her and do all those other wicked things he excelled at. But she knew better than to let his seductive voice coax her this time. “We shan’t be alone again, sir—either in the gardens or anywhere else—until you speak to my family. I shall not be your paramour while you wait for matters to turn out to your satisfaction.”
“You know I don’t see you that way!”
“Oh look, the waltz is done,” she said brightly as the music came to an end. “And I desperately need some punch.”
Jaw set, he gestured toward the open French doors that led to the gardens. “Come with me for a walk in the fresh air, so we can finish discussing this.”
“We’ve already finished discussing this.” And the last thing she needed was to be alone with him where he could melt her iron reserve into a slag heap.
She started to leave him right there, but he caught up to her and tucked her arm firmly in the crook of his elbow as he led her off the floor. “I sometimes miss the old Juliet, the one I met two years ago.”
She scowled at him. “Why? Because like a ninny, she did whatever you asked?”
“No. Because she was so eager to have me that she asked me to kiss her.”
A reluctant smile touched her lips. “You refused me at first, as I recall.”
“Temporary insanity. I won’t make the same mistake again, however.” He rubbed her hand with his. “Now where is this blasted punch you say you want?”
“In the supper room. But you needn’t accompany me—”
“You’ll not be rid of me that easily, sweeting,” he murmured and squeezed her hand.
Her mouth went dry. She dearly wished she had the fortitude to walk away from him entirely. But three days without him had weakened her just a little.
They’d almost reached the supper room when Griff and Rosalind accosted them.
“Hello, Templemore.” Griff’s rigid stance and curt tone belied the seeming cordiality of his greeting. “What brings you to London?”
Sebastian glanced down at her with unmistakable affection. “A certain young lady.”
Juliet groaned. He might as well have written “MINE” in ink across her forehead. “Actually, Lord Templemore is in town to find out more about his missing brother. He’s never given up hope of finding him, though I fear he’s doomed to disappointment. In that, as in other things.”
“Ah, Lady Juliet, such a pessimist you are,” Sebastian rumbled. “But as you know, I’m a determined sort, and I don’t brook disappointment.”
“I for one am very glad to see you, Lord Templemore,” Rosalind burst out, as if she couldn’t contain herself any longer. “I know you’ll be interested in what Lady Brumley was just telling me before Griff found me.”
Beaming at Juliet, Rosalind lowered her voice. “Apparently, there’s a new rumor sweeping the ballroom—that
Lord Montfort took it upon himself earlier today to check into the claims about you. He’s now pronouncing to everyone his discovery that they were utterly false.”
Griff looked perplexed. “That’s an abrupt reversal from an hour ago, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is,” Juliet said, musing over this strange new twist of events.
Rosalind winked at Sebastian. “You wouldn’t happen to know what brought it about, would you, my lord? There are some young gentlemen who claim you were looking for the duke earlier.”
Juliet glanced to Sebastian in surprise. “Is this true? Did you have a part in this? And if so, why didn’t you tell me?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I couldn’t be sure that Montfort would respond to my…er…suggestions. But yes, I spoke to him. I didn’t think it fair that you be maligned for what my brother did.”
“I spoke to him, too,” Griff said gruffly, “but Montfort was determined to ruin her, and I couldn’t sway him. However did you convince him to relent?”
“As I told you before,” Sebastian said smoothly, “I knew Montfort when we were younger. I merely appealed to his sense of decency.”
Griff’s eyes narrowed. “Montfort has no sense of decency.”
Sebastian stared him down. “Then let’s just say that my arguments left him no room for refusal.” He glanced over to where the duke stood with a gaggle of his gossipy friends, and his jaw went taut. “He won’t trouble Lady Juliet again, I swear.”
His hard tone made fear leap in Juliet’s belly. “Oh, please say you didn’t challenge him!” she cried.
His gaze swung back to her, soft and faintly amused. “Would you care?”
“Of course I would care!”
A smile blazed across his face. “I didn’t challenge him.
I merely pointed out to him the advantages of reversing his story.”
“Oh, Lord Templemore,” Rosalind gushed, “we owe you such a debt of gratitude!”
“Then again,” Griff grumbled, “your brother
was
the one to cause all this in the first place. The least you could do was set matters to rights.”
“Griff, really!” Rosalind protested. “You shouldn’t be so ungracious!”
Griff’s suspicious gaze fixed on Sebastian. “I was merely stating facts.”
“It’s all right, Lady Rosalind,” Sebastian put in quickly. “He does have a point.”
“Perhaps so,” Rosalind retorted, “but pay his rudeness no mind. He’s been grousing and mumping about ever since we left Shropshire.”
“Mumping!” Griff looked offended. “I haven’t done any such thing.”
“Yes, you have.” Rosalind leaned toward Sebastian confidentially. “He’s been very worried about this situation with Juliet, you see. And no matter what he says, I assure you we’re all very grateful for your help.”
Strange, but Griff didn’t seem grateful at all. Indeed, he looked as if he wanted to tear Sebastian’s head off and mount it on Lady Feathering’s wall.
“I was happy to do it,” Sebastian said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lady Juliet has expressed an urgent desire for punch. Lady Rosalind, would you like some as well?”
Rosalind smiled broadly. “I’d love some punch, Lord Templemore.”
With a bow, Sebastian left to fetch it. As soon as he was out of earshot, Griff muttered, “I still want to know what he said to Montfort. This is all very questionable.”
“Balderdash.” Rosalind winked at Juliet. “I think my shy sister has finally found a suitor who suits her.” She smiled at her little play on words.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so hasty to leap to conclusions,” Griff bit out.
Unable to bear her family one minute more, Juliet murmured, “Excuse me,” and hurried after Sebastian.
She couldn’t believe he’d threatened Montfort on her behalf. It gave her hope. Surely if he would risk that sort of trouble…She halted him as he passed some French doors leading out to a balcony. Tugging him outside, she faced him in the cold night air.
“Thank you for speaking to Montfort,” she whispered. “Even if it doesn’t work—”
“It will work. You needn’t worry about that.” His eyes searched her face. He stepped nearer, and she suddenly realized they were quite alone on the balcony. He took her hand. “I don’t suppose this changes your mind about becoming engaged to me.”
She glanced away, torn. She should have known he’d try to sway her at every opportunity. “It’s not that I’m not grateful—” she began.
“If I wanted gratitude, I’d buy a puppy,” he growled. “I don’t want gratitude from you, especially when it’s misplaced. As Knighton pointed out, I’m responsible for this nightmare, and I do take care of my responsibilities.”
Him and his infernal responsibilities. Her gaze swung back to him. “Not all of them. You still refuse to do the one thing I’ve asked of you.”
A flush of anger darkened his cheeks. “Yes, I refuse to let you twist me around your little finger. I don’t take kindly to manipulation, Juliet.”
She bristled. “Nor do I. And if you think I’ll sit and twiddle my thumbs like some poor Penelope while vainly waiting for you to do this properly, you can think again. I intend to move about society as before until you come to your senses.” Snatching her hand away, she turned to go back inside.
He caught her arm, drawing her close enough that she
could feel his breath against her cheek. “You do that. Dance with your bumbling idiots. Flirt with a lot of scoundrels who’ve shown themselves eager to believe the worst of you. But I promise you, sweeting, this time I won’t bury myself in Shropshire while you do it. I intend to marry you with all due haste, and you know how persuasive I can be when I set my mind to something.”
Oh yes, he was a master of persuasion. The very thought of what he might do made her shiver.
He slid his arm about her waist as he brought his mouth to her ear. “I happen to know all your weaknesses. I know your fondness for ‘intimate’ kisses and chess and pedestals. I know how to make you burn. And I shall exploit my knowledge to the fullest. By the end of the week, you’ll be begging me to marry you, make no mistake.”
“Y-you seem very sure of yourself for a man who hasn’t had much experience with women,” she said, trying for icy disdain and managing only tepid uncertainty.
As if scenting triumph already, he nuzzled her hair aside to plant a hot, openmouthed kiss to her ear. “I don’t need experience with women. I only need experience with
you.
Fortunately, I have all that I require. And I’ll win you on my own terms, too. That is my solemn vow.”
Then brushing a kiss to her hair, he was gone.
She stood on the balcony shaking with both anger and desire for long moments after. So the impudent scoundrel thought to change her resolve with some kisses and caresses, did he?
She’d just see about that. Yes, she wanted the scoundrel for her husband, and she wanted him badly. But they could have no kind of marriage at all if he expected her always to bow to his dictates.
It was high time Sebastian Blakely learned a thing or
two about women. She knew how to make him burn, too. By the end of the week, she’d have
him
agreeing to do whatever he must to secure her. And that was
her
solemn vow.