A Scandalous Charade (Scandalous Series, BOOK 2), page 13
Reluctantly, Luke closed the door and met his sister’s fiery gaze. He couldn’t tell her he’d been to Sussex, because she might mention it to Rachel. Then he’d be in for it. And he couldn’t tell her that he’d been to Dorset, because Caroline would probably mention it in her regular correspondence with Robert—and he wouldn’t want to have to explain that. “I needed to make a trip that couldn’t be put off.”
“Well, heaven forbid you tell your sister when you’re going to just up and disappear. Instead, I think you should make her wonder endlessly about what happened to you, and where you are, and if you’re alive or dead.”
Luke’s head began to throb. Why must Caroline be so damned melodramatic? Why couldn’t she just thank him for stopping by and be a normal sister—and not the bloody harridan he saw before him? Before he could compose a question that wasn’t quite so offensive, Caroline turned her back on him without another word, and swept down the corridor and around a corner in a huff. As before, Georgie was right behind her.
Unfortunately, Juliet remained standing where she was. A worried frown had settled upon her pretty face and he cringed when he met her eyes. There was no other woman like her in the world, and he was going to regret this for the rest of his life—but he’d gone over this in his head countless times. No matter how much it killed him, he had to end things. It was for her own good and he would never again dally with a respectable girl. Those unions never turned out well.
***
“I missed you,” Juliet blurted out, and then blushed when he only stared at her.
Why was he just looking at her like that? It was some combination of sorrow, anger, and—strangely enough—desire. He looked tortured. “Luke?”
He took a small step toward her, and then seemed to think better of it and moved backward. He frowned and took a long breath. “I’ve been thinking, Juliet…”
“So have I,” she began and watched him fidget uncomfortably with his pocket watch. Luke never fidgeted. He was always so carefree. What had happened to make him so anxious?
He shook his head, though he kept his green eyes focused on hers. “This isn’t going to work, princess. I can’t be the man you want. You must know that on some level.”
What has he talking about? He was exactly the man she wanted. There were no strings attached with Luke. She didn’t have to worry about marriage with him. She loved his unrepentant philosophy of life. She was always free to be herself around him. And she loved the way he made her feel. Juliet stepped toward him, a question in her eyes. “What do you think I want, Luke?”
His brow furrowed even more and he started to reach for her, but then drew his hand back. “More than I can give you. It’ll be best for everyone if we just go our separate ways before this goes any further.”
He was ending things between them?
Just like that?
A numbness spread across Juliet, though she managed to nod her head and force a fraudulent smile to her lips, determined not to follow Louisa Ridgemont’s example. “I see.” Though she didn’t. She willed herself to be strong. She would not cry, though tears began to pool in her eyes. She would not speak with a quivering voice, though a lump had lodged firmly in her throat. And she would not fall to pieces, though her heart was shattered. She would remain in control of her emotions—at least until she was alone. “I appreciate your honesty.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “I suppose this is goodbye.”
“Indeed,” he answered with a curt nod.
Juliet couldn’t meet his eyes. “Best of luck.”
Then she turned and walked away from him, down the corridor as smoothly as she could force herself—until she turned the corner. Juliet fell against the wall with a soft thud, as the first wave of tears began to stream down her face. She cried silently until she heard the large oak door shut—knowing that he was truly gone now.
Juliet stumbled into the first room she came to, which had to be the music room. Even through her pouring eyes, she could make out a pianoforte in the middle of the floor and a harpsichord in one corner.
She collapsed upon a small chaise, now not holding back any tears, but letting them fall freely. She no longer wondered if she loved the rogue. Her heart wouldn’t ache like this if she didn’t. How was she to go on without him?
Suddenly, a comforting hand touched her back, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned to lay eyes on the interloper.
Caroline Staveley had tears in her own eyes. “My darling girl, I am so sorry.” Then Caroline knelt beside her at the edge of the chaise and wrapped her arms around Juliet, crying with her, comforting her.
When Juliet managed to pull herself together, Caroline brushed away the last tears from her cheeks. “I think I really shall strangle him.”
A gurgled sob escaped Juliet’s throat, and Caroline squeezed her hand warmly. “No, don’t start that again—you’ll make me start and I won’t allow that lout to make my cheeks puffy. Listen, darling, I won’t claim to know what is going on in my brother’s mind.” She frowned and stared off toward the pianoforte. “But I do know that he cares about you.”
Juliet shook her head. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to go home, fall into bed, and never come out again.
Caroline unconsciously tapped two piano keys with her graceful fingers. She looked a million miles away, but softly spoke. “Our brother Robert has a theory about Lucas. Would you like to know it?”
Not unless it would make the pain in her chest go away. Juliet shrugged, noncommittally.
With a sweet smile, Caroline suddenly refocused on her and continued. “Robert says that Luke was very close to our mother. I never knew her, as she died the same way yours did, with my birth. Luke was five at the time, and Robert says that our mother doted on him. She adored him, and he was enamored with her. Apparently, he took her death very hard. More so than anyone else, our father included. Robert says that Luke curled up in a ball and wouldn’t speak to anyone for more than a month.”
That was terribly sad, though Juliet couldn’t imagine why Caroline was telling her this about Luke. It didn’t have anything to do with the situation at hand.
“Women love him, and he certainly enjoys them—but love, real affection… Well, that’s an entirely different matter. Robert has always contended that Luke is incapable of such emotions—that part of him is still that little boy, afraid to open his heart to anyone. But I’ve seen him, Juliet. I’ve seen him with you. There’s a glow about him when he’s with you. It’s as if he’s truly happy—not the carefree façade he hides behind.”
“I don’t think he’s terribly happy with me.” He could barely look at her during their last conversation.
Caroline walked back across the room and squeezed Juliet’s hand. “I think he’s just frightened but doesn’t know it. He’ll come to his senses, and—”
Juliet managed to shake her head at that. “He meant what he said.” She’d seen the resignation in his eyes. Whatever had happened to make him reject her, he was determined not to see her again.
“He thinks he does,” Caroline amended. “Do you truly care for him, darling?”
Did she care for Luke? Shattered heart and all, she still did—more than anything. She was certain she always would. “Yes,” she whispered.
Caroline embraced her again and rubbed her back, soothingly. “Then I’ll figure something out.”
Juliet sat back and shook her head vehemently. “You mustn’t. I won’t follow him around like a sad, little puppy. I don’t want to be like Lady Ridgemont, or—”
With a determined shake of her head, Caroline met her eyes. “Trust me, you are not even remotely similar to Louisa. And you can’t give up that easily, Juliet—not if you truly care for him. I know you’ve got some fight in you.”
Juliet simply blinked at Caroline Staveley. She’d never contemplated such a thing before. Did women fight for men? Did she have it in her to fight for Luke? Not if he didn’t want her. She would not make a fool of herself. But was Caroline right? Was he simply frightened?
Caroline grinned devilishly, and Juliet realized for the first time that she and Luke had the same smile. “He’ll come around. Trust me, I know my brother. Just don’t give up yet and promise to go along with whatever plan I come up with.”
She wasn’t sure why she found herself nodding to that, but Caroline seemed so certain. And she did want Luke.
Twelve
The wicked Duke of Kelfield
Brothers were such bothersome creatures. Just as Caroline was certain that Luke had found the perfect woman for him, he’d gone and gotten cold feet. Though she supposed that might be natural for a man who had spent the majority of his life skirt chasing. Settling on only one could be a bit frightening—or so the Duke of Kelfield had once explained to her.
In Caroline’s opinion, Luke just needed a little push. Unfortunately, until him, Juliet hadn’t shown any interest at all in any of the men that surrounded her. Therefore Luke probably felt secure that none of them could snatch her away from him. He was taking the girl’s affection for granted.
What she needed to do was put a little fear in him. A little jealousy would work nicely. The problem with that was Luke wouldn’t be jealous of just anyone. Her vain brother was confident his devastatingly handsome looks and his clever wit—few could compare to him. But surely there must be someone the scoundrel would be jealous of. Someone also devastatingly handsome. Someone also quite clever. Someone women adored, to their own detriment. Someone like Luke, only more dangerous.
Caroline smiled mischievously, and she sipped her tea. The answer was perfectly clear, especially as the perfect specimen had just walked into her parlor.
Alexander Everett, the Duke of Kelfield, stood in the open doorway with a quizzical look on his strikingly handsome face. He was tall, slender, and broad shouldered. His thick ebony hair and silvery grey eyes made him appear to be Lucifer himself, intent on sin and debauchery.
He was perfect.
Alexander looked back toward the corridor and gestured with a wave of his hand. “Caro, you really need to pension that man off. He’s a deaf as a door nail. I asked for Lord Staveley.”
He was obviously referring to poor Merton, who really was as old as Methuselah. But the old fellow resisted any talk of retirement, as did Staveley, who swore he’d be lost without the ancient butler. “I know, darling, but David is so fond of him.” With a slow grace, Caroline rose from her seat and crossed the room toward the devilish duke. “And you have missed Staveley. He has gone out with Carteret for the afternoon.”
“Well, that explains why James wasn’t at home either.”
Caroline grinned at him slyly. “Visiting all of your respectable friends today, are you?”
He winked at her. “Saucy tongued tart.”
“You’re such a flatterer, Alexander,” she cooed back. “David will hate that he missed you. But he’s out shopping.”
“Shopping?” He furrowed his brow. She enjoyed the look on his face. No one who knew David well could easily envision her reclusive husband shopping.
“Well, my birthday is just around the corner, darling, and Staveley always has such difficulty picking out just the right bauble. So it was kismet that I happened to mention the ruby tiara I so desperately want to Bethany Carteret last week.”
“What a coincidence,” Alexander remarked dryly as she hooked her arm in his and led him back toward the chaise. “Caroline, do the men in your life know you pull all the strings?”
She giggled. “I believe Masten is on to me. But you’ll keep my secret, won’t you, Alex?”
“Always, my dear,” he responded as they settled onto the chaise.
“How fortuitous for me that Staveley is out and Merton is deaf, because, Alexander darling, I was just thinking about you right before you walked in.”
His dark brows quirked upward and he grinned rakishly. “Indeed? Well, how terribly unfortunate for me, in that case. You haven’t once again decided that it’s time for me to marry, have you, Caro?”
On the contrary, it was quite past time for Alexander to settle down and find a proper wife. Though the devil had always avoided the swarms of nice girls she tried to push in his direction. “Alexander, what would you say if I told you I’d refrain from foisting anymore young ladies upon you?”
His handsome face looked quite serious, and he rubbed his brow as if to stave off a headache. “I’d say, my dear, that you have some nefarious plan you want my help with.”
How wonderful to associate with intelligent men, that one didn’t have to spell everything out for. “Indeed. Are you familiar with Lady Juliet St. Claire?”
He stared at her, half bemused. “No, and I can’t imagine where you’re going with this.”
Caroline smiled reassuringly as she grasped his hands in hers. “I’ve decided that she would make a splendid sister-in-law for me. Honestly, darling, she is the one for Luke. But alas my brother is as stubborn as you are. So, let me explain your role…”
***
Juliet had never met the infamous Duke of Kelfield, though she had heard of him. Then again, everyone had heard of him. He was rumored to be the most morally depraved man in all of England, perhaps all of Europe. It was said that he’d founded a social group fashioned after Dashwood’s Hell-Fire Club from half a century earlier. It was said that he had fathered more than two dozen children. It was said that he regularly debauched virgins, had installed a troop of female acrobats in his Mayfair townhouse, and had once even seduced the wife of a vicar.
He was quite a scandalous figure, to put it mildly.
Therefore, Juliet had been completely shocked when Caroline Staveley announced at tea that the duke had offered to escort them all to the Hollingsworth Ball that very evening. Georgie had bristled at the idea, but Juliet welcomed it. She wasn’t quite sure what Caroline was up to, but she was more than willing to give it a shot.
But the Duke of Kelfield? Juliet was surprised that Caroline even associated with a man of his reputation. Even still, she was surprised when he arrived with Caroline at the appointed hour to escort her and Georgie to the Hollingsworth Ball.
The room seemed to shrink in size when Kelfield stepped into the parlor. The wicked duke exuded sensuality and his steely grey gaze seemed to assess her immediately. It was the first time she ever felt naked, though she was fully clothed.
While Caroline and Georgie were chatting quietly in the corner, the duke made his way directly to Juliet’s side. “Lady Juliet, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed then smiled roguishly as he let his gaze roam across her figure.
“Your Grace.” She curtseyed in return.
Kelfield took her gloved hand in his and raised it to his lips and fixed his silvery eyes on hers. “So you are the one.”
“The one?” Juliet blinked up at him.
“Hmm,” the duke responded with a conspiratorial dip of his head. “Caroline has been trying to convince me for years that everyone has the one, their perfect match, waiting for them. She seems to believe that you are the one for Beckford.”
Juliet smiled at him. “Am I to take it that you disagree with her assessment?”
His silver eyes twinkled mischievously. “I don’t believe in such foolish romanticism. And Luke doesn’t either.”
She discovered she was chewing her lip and forced herself to stop. “You know him well?”
He responded with a slight incline of his head. “Better than even his sister realizes.”
Juliet considered all that she’d ever heard about the devilish duke. Exactly how well did he know Lucas? Then it hit her. “Your Hell-Fire Club?” she brazenly asked.
Kelfield’s eyes danced with delight. “A gentleman would never answer that—”
But of course he wasn’t one.
“And a proper Lady would never ask,” he continued as an appreciative smile spread across his face. “Tell me, sweetheart, is Beckford the one for you?”
She nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes.”
“My loss, then.” He winked at her. “Very well, my dear. I know precisely how to drive Beckford to a raging distraction. Just follow my lead, and no ‘Your Gracing’ me. I detest it. Besides, if you call me Alexander, with a soft little breathy thing to your voice, he’ll go positively mad and fall at your feet.”
Her eyes must be as round as saucers as she listened to him. “I don’t know that I want him at my feet.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s exactly where you want him.” Then Kelfield—er, Alexander roared with laughter as she tried to deduce the double meaning she was certain was there.
***
Luke sat alone, slumped in the far back table of The Blue Crow’s Social Club, but it was a gaming hell, irrespective of what they called it. Intermittent groans and cheers could be heard from the hazard tables while the card players sat quietly studying their opponents along the side walls of the club.
Thank God for the Scots and their whiskey, Luke thought to himself as he downed another glass of the heavenly amber substance. He lost track of how much he’d had, and was glad that numbness had started to spread across his body, blocking out feelings, unwanted thoughts, and painful images of Juliet’s pretty face as he had ended their acquaintance. She’d tried to hide her hurt, but he’d seen it and it had made the entire ordeal that much more painful. No matter how many times he told himself it was for her own good, his heart ached. His heart, the one muscle members of the ton were certain he lacked.
Just as he was motioning for a refill, an enormous ham-hock of a hand slapped him across the back. “Fancy meeting you here, Beckford,” came the booming baritone voice of the Marquess of Astwick.
The last thing Luke wanted now was to deal with the gregarious marquess. He was in a terrible mood, and he intended to stay that way and suffer alone. “Bugger off, Chet.”
