Lord Love a Duke (27 page)

“
I tried to offer you a
kindness with my presumptions, my lady, but I see you are not to be
flattered. As a true gentleman I refrained from placing the blame
for your compromise squarely where it surely belongs – with you.
You have been too indulged by your family, and it has led to a
high-spiritedness that was bound to lend itself to your subsequent
downfall. Your inappropriate behavior has led to your currently
besmirched name and the consequences shall fall on all your family,
possibly even your friends. Your marriage to the Duke will only
spread the taint to all the Leightons as well. Are you sure you
wouldn't rather run away right now with a man whose name is already
spoken of lowly enough that it cannot be sullied further?” His
cruel words taunted and enraged Juliet, but she dropped her gaze,
unable to completely ignore the grain of truth contained in them.
Her previous insecurities flared as she knew that gossip as to the
manner of their betrothal
could
bring shame and derision to the proud and refined Dorset
Dukedom. She swung her focus back to the Viscount and took in his
derisive snarl and flushed face, and her former resolve returned.
She straightened her posture, took in a slow and even breath, and
smoothed her hands down her skirts.

“I am quite certain that I will do anything
to avoid the prospect of marriage to you, my lord. My relationship
with my family and friends and the noble Leighton family is such
that they would always desire the best for me, even under threat of
vile gossip or scandal. You have insulted me thoroughly, so I take
my leave of you now. I warn you not to speak of me nor pay your
addresses in any way again, my lord, or you will learn the true
meaning of the painful consequences of such unfortunate
behavior.”

Juliet skirted around Lord Melville and took
one step before stopping to turn and face her tormentor again, the
fingers of her right hand flexing. “You are a despicable, ill-bred
lout. Were I a man I would call you out and put a ball through your
black heart. Since I do not have that luxury I will simply have to
satisfy myself with this.” Without another pause she drew her right
arm back before letting her clenched fist fly into the Viscount's
face, connecting squarely on his left cheekbone and eye, before
turning and sweeping out of the room with her back straight and
head held high.

Juliet walked past the footmen and Hastings
without seeing their looks of affront on her behalf after
overhearing the last part of the shouted discourse with the
Viscount. She walked out the door and across the beautifully
landscaped and manicured lawns without breaking stride until she
reached the stables. She offered a polite good morning to the
grooms but waved off their help as she saddled her mare quickly and
efficiently. The first clue for the grooms as to her discomfiture
came when she swung into the saddle, astride, without thought to
the revealing nature of her lack of a proper riding habit and
boots. The sight of her delicate slippers, stocking-clad legs, and
garters stunned the stable hands. The second clue came in the form
of a distressing sob that broke from her otherwise stoic features
as she dug her heels into her mount's flanks and tore off for the
pastures at a full gallop. The hands exchanged looks before
mutually deciding the stable master, Hanks, must needs be informed
immediately.

Though normally an early riser Jonas had
slept well past the dawn this morning, no doubt due in part to the
madcap events of the previous night and day. In fact, he was in the
midst of a fairly promising dream about his newly betrothed when
the unmistakable sound of his valet's voice began to intrude. Jonas
turned his head toward the annoying noise and opened one eye that
still managed to glare with ducal disdain.

“Beg pardon, Your Grace, but Hastings has
some news of import for you. May I show him in?” queried
Danvers.

The fact that his valet would never waken
him without cause, his butler never venture into the ducal
chambers, and that the household might still be termed unsettled
made Jonas come to full alert. Throwing off the bedsheet he reached
for the dressing gown held out by his valet and barked for Hastings
to enter. The butler could tell immediately by the expression on
His Grace's face he need not apologize nor dissemble.

“Your Grace, I fear Lady Juliet has been
distressed by Viscount Melville this morning. An altercation
occurred between them in the music room. I was not particularly
concerned until I heard raised voices and some spurious assertions
from his lordship. Lady Juliet departed the front of the house
seemingly calm but Hanks just informed me that the lady rode off
from the stables quite overset.” The butler paused to await the
Duke.

“How long ago?”

“Less than one-half hour, Your Grace.”

“And the Viscount. Where is he?”

Hastings swallowed and briefly shifted his
gaze to Danvers before returning it to the Duke. “He is in his
chamber. Lady Margaret saw fit to inform me she feared her brother
might have had a strategy of some sort to win Lady Juliet's hand
but went too far in his methods. She believes he will seek to flee
any repercussions.”

This information brought the Duke to
immediate action. “What the deuced has happened?!” he swore.
“Hastings, see to it that Melville stays confined until I return,
by whatever means you deem necessary should he attempt escape.
Danvers, get me something to wear and be quick about it, man!”
Jonas ripped off his robe and grabbed the swiftly proffered
breeches, donning them with speed. He sat down for his boots and
bellowed for the return of his butler. “Hastings! Are the Marquis
and Marchioness awake?”

“No, Your Grace. None of the Quinn family,
save Lady Juliet, are about.”

Jonas thought a moment as Danvers forced the
Duke's feet into his tall boots with dexterity. “Have Mrs. Hastings
attend my mother and inform her of this morning's events. I shall
ride after Lady Juliet. Mama can then inform the rest of the family
when they rise. No one – and I mean no one – is to speak of this to
anyone else nor wake the family prematurely.”

“It will be done, Your Grace.” Hastings
bowed and left the ducal chamber.

“And Hastings,” called the Duke, “thank you
for your prompt attention to this. You made wise decisions on all
counts.”

Hastings flushed but stood straighter and
bowed again before his exit of the attached sitting room. Jonas
grabbed his shirt our of Danvers' extended hand, ignoring the
offered waistcoat and all but ran from his room, out of the house
and to the stables, tugging his shirt over his head and fastening
its few buttons. Only his mind's image of Juliet upset with her
location unknown stopped him from marching into Melville's chamber
and beating him senseless. There would be time for that later, he
determined, flexing his fingers at the idea. He vowed to make the
Viscount feel much pain. He would likely have to share that
pleasure with Juliet's brothers, he thought with a grim
chuckle.

Upon his arrival at the stables, he found
Paladin already saddled and ready, the grooms also having fitted
their own mounts in effort to aid the search. Jonas knew his staff
was already attached to his affianced from her position as
Miranda's friend. They had known her for a long time as well and
were no doubt as anxious as he to find and return her safe.

After hearing from his men the account of
Juliet's dishabille and demeanor, the group divided the estate
lands and departed on their search, each man carrying a horn to
sound should they locate quarry. Jonas doubted his heart had ever
pounded so hard nor his gut ever churned with such ferocity as he
urged his horse to full speed across the expansive lands. He rode
in the general direction the grooms had seen Juliet charge but with
such a head start he had no doubt he might have a long ride ahead.
He forced to the back of his mind his curiosity over what had
caused his strong and fierce betrothed to succumb to tears.
Likewise, he refused to waste any thoughts on Melville and instead
concentrated on finding Juliet.

After what felt like hours though was likely
not even one, he caught sight of a flash of pale green flying
through the trees on the other side of the fence in the western
pasture. Jonas immediately cut Paladin to his left and pounded
toward that brief glimpse. He drove his mount to a breakneck pace
knowing he would gain on Juliet due to the heavily wooded area in
which she rode. Catching sight of her skirt again he yelled her
name several times in effort to stop her before she took the jump
over the hedgerow. Later he would realize she most likely feared
pursuit by Melville so he should have exercised restraint by
refraining to call her name until she could see his approach from
the side. Instead, his shout seemed to startle her into jerking her
reins in surprise. Although an experienced horsewoman, she could
not correct her mistake as Hera stutter-stepped violently. Juliet
struggled to maintain her seat but eventually lost her balance and
was tossed to the earth.

Jonas was powerless to stop her fall and
could only fly off his horse to her side mere moments later. She
had fallen cleanly on her backside but with some force and speed,
and he could see a gash across her forehead near her hairline. Upon
examination, it was found shallow but bleeding steadily, as head
wounds were wont to do, and he ripped off a strip from her
petticoat to staunch the blood flow. He had feared she was knocked
unconscious but her lids fluttered open at his ministrations. Her
pulse was rapid and strong as he quickly checked her limbs, finding
no discernible breaks. He ran back to his saddle and gave three
long blows on the horn to alert the rest of the search party,
grabbing his bag as well. Returning to Juliet's side, he gently
cradled her head in his lap, brushing the strands of escaped hair
from her face.

“Juliet. Open your eyes, sweetheart.” Jonas
lightly shook her shoulders and was rewarded with a soft groan.
“Juliet, love. Open your eyes for me. Please.” He tried to keep the
fear out of his voice. Her lids flickered again and she squinted
against the light that dappled through the trees, groaning with
more volume this time.

“Must I open them? Saints and sinners, what
happened?” she asked.

“You tumbled from your horse, love. Can you
tell me how you feel?”

She quirked her mouth in a wry half smile
before replying. “I feel remarkably like I fell from my horse,” she
joked lightly.

Jonas laughed in spite of his worry before
questioning her again. “Aside from that, do you have a significant
hurt anywhere? Do you have any sharp pains?”

He could tell by the tightening of her brow
she was taking a silent inventory of her person. She gingerly
flexed her limbs, moaning slightly with each movement. “I think I
ache sufficiently all over but feel no particular sharp pains, nor
discomfort in any single place.” She wriggled the fingers of her
right hand and grimaced. “Actually, my hand rather hurts but I will
take comfort in the fact that I know that lout's face hurts far
worse.” Jonas looked to her hand and could see the early stages of
bruising forming across her knuckles. Juliet looked up into the
Duke's face. “I heard your shout and should not have turned. Hera
could not adjust to my lead at our speed. What a greenhorn of an
equestrian I am,” she groaned, her eyes closing again.

Jonas groaned himself and stroked her face
tenderly from brow to cheek to chin. “At least you rolled when you
hit the earth. That likely saved you from breaking any bones or
suffering any serious injury.” He opened his saddlebag and
retrieved a flask of spirits his stable master had seen fit to
pack. He brought it to her lips. “Drink this. It will help ease
your aches somewhat and help what is sure to be an uncomfortable
ride home go more easily.” She took two large swallows then began
to cough as the liquid blazed a burning path to her stomach. She
pulled a face at the taste, then moaned at the pain the movement
had caused. “I meant a small sip! And it was not your fault,
sweetheart. I should not have yelled at my distance or at our pace.
Your reaction was only natural, while mine was foolish. You must
have presumed Melville was on the chase,” he continued.

Juliet opened her eyes half way to see the
regret etched on his handsome face. She reached up to cup his
cradling hand. “I knew it was your voice, else I would not have
turned. Your shout was but instinct, especially if you were in
pursuit of me after having heard of my meeting with Melville this
morning. It was ridiculous of me to ride away as if I could escape
his words. I should have stayed and beaten the blackguard. That is
a mistake I shall remedy if the cur has not fled.” She closed her
lids and gave another light grunt of pain as she shifted on the
hard-packed ground. He brought the flask to her lips and she made
to demur but he would not relent. She grimaced again and drank
slowly to avoid another cough.

“Hush, love. I know not the particulars nor
do I need know them to be confident that I shall thrash that arse
when we return.” Juliet laughed at his curse, and he stroked her
cheek again.

“You should not curse, Jonas. You do it
ill,” she teased quietly, her eyes closing again.

“Just so, dearest. I shall leave the
billingsgate to you.” His gaze moved from her face to the sound of
approaching hoof beats. “Here come the men now. I will send Gibbs
to fetch the doctor while Hanks takes your mount back to the
stables.” He lowered her head to the ground and moved away to give
the men their instructions. Returning to her side, he helped her
rise to a seated position, pausing to let her body adjust to the
movement. He offered her another drink of the liquor and she took a
long draught, refraining from opening her eyes until the world
ceased its tumultuous spins. She nodded her readiness and he
brought her gently to her feet.