A Scandalous Charade (Scandalous Series, BOOK 2), page 17
Uncle Albert gestured to Althea with a flick of his wrist. “Show your cousins to their rooms.”
***
Juliet looked around her chamber and stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. There were tons of them. The place honestly looked as if it was falling in on itself. The drapes were dusty and the room smelled of mold. Her father would have been mortified to ever see The Chase look like this.
She was surprised when Hugh delivered her trunk to her room. He didn’t stay long, but Juliet found it odd that a footman hadn’t done the job. Of course, she hadn’t seen a butler, the housekeeper, a maid—not any servants at all. How very strange.
She slumped down on the bed, curled up, and prayed that she’d awake in her room in Upper Brook Street. That she was still in London. That all of this bad been a bad dream. That Luke truly cared for her.
Juliet had no idea how long she’d remained in place, staring at the slowly darkening sky through her drapes, but eventually Georgie knocked on the door and entered the room. “Jules, what are you doing, just lying there? Didn’t you hear the dinner chime?”
No. She hadn’t heard anything. She simply shook her head.
With a huge sigh, Georgie opened Juliet’s wardrobe and pulled out a simple cambric gown of soft pink. “Come on. Up with you. I’ll play your maid.”
“I’m not hungry,” she muttered and rolled onto her side.
Georgie wouldn’t take no for an answer and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll not be rude on our first night here. Now, pull off your dress.”
Juliet slid ungracefully off the bed with a pout and pulled her traveling gown up over her head. “I don’t know why—”
Georgie’s gasp cut off her complaint. Then Juliet felt her sister gingerly touch the bruise on her shoulder. “Dear God, Juliet! Did Luke do this to you?”
Juliet tried to shake her sister’s hands off her. “No! Of course not. I slipped, Georgie.”
Georgie’s soft touch followed the bruise all the way down Juliet’s back. “Yes, I use to slip quite often when I was married to Teynham too. When I get my hands on Luke Beckford, I swear to you, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Taking your innocence and this!”
Juliet spun around to face her sister, one lone tear trailing down her cheek. “Georgie, Luke didn’t—I’m telling you the truth. I slipped when I got out of the coach. It was cold and I wasn’t in my right frame of mind.”
But it didn’t seem as if Georgie could hear her. She tossed Juliet’s traveling dress to a nearby chair and quickly pulled the new gown over her head. Without a word, she buttoned Juliet in, then ushered her out the door and all the way to the drawing room.
As soon as they entered the once golden, now slightly fading room, Juliet noticed that all eyes were on her and that Althea seemed a little flushed. She supposed if she cared, she would have spent more time contemplating the whys of the situation, but truly she didn’t give a whit for any of them. However, a tall, thin man with graying hair and soft, green eyes caught her attention. He looked familiar, and she found herself staring at him.
“Cousin.” Hugh stepped before her. “Do you remember Sir Nigel?”
Sir Nigel! Of course. The local magistrate had been a dear friend of her father’s. She smiled and inclined her head. “Good to see you again, sir.”
Uncle Albert clapped a hand to Sir Nigel’s back and smirked. “Ah, Nige, is here all the time. I’m sure you’ll see more of him. Shall we make our way to dinner?”
Hugh offered Juliet his arm, which she grudgingly took. She just had to make it through dinner, and then she could retire to her room in peace. In the dining room, Juliet spied her first servant. An older maid that she seemed to recognize. “Millie?” she asked Hugh.
He nodded his head. “I’m afraid things have been a bit tight in recent years. It’s only Millie and Cook that are left.”
Only Millie and Cook? Good Heavens! Two women were the only staff at Prestwick Chase? No wonder the place appeared to be falling down. With Cook in the kitchen, it would be impossible for Millie to do all the work in the massive estate alone. She started to feel a bit guilty that she hadn’t sent funds to keep the place up, but she hadn’t wanted to support her uncle and cousins remaining in The Chase. She figured when Edmund reached his majority, they’d toss their unwanted relations from the place, and then she would make all the necessary repairs, but now she wasn’t so sure The Chase could wait that long.
She found herself seated between Hugh and Sir Nigel, and was soon fiddling with her soup. Soup was a generous word, as it was mainly hot water with just a few vegetables tossed in for good measure.
“The conditions here aren’t your fault, you know,” Hugh whispered in her ear as his hand settled on her leg under the table.
Juliet sat bolt upright and glared at her cousin. “Remove your hand this instant,” she hissed back at him.
Slowly, Hugh removed his hand, and he smiled tightly. “I just meant to be comforting.”
“Well, comfort someone else,” she responded tartly.
The rest of dinner was fairly uncomfortable. Hugh sat rigid as a board next to her. Sir Nigel and Uncle Albert discussed one old hunt after another, drinking goblet after goblet of wine. And Althea chatted incessantly with Georgie asking for all sorts of details about Felicity’s new husband—which Georgie made up as she went along. By the time she was finished extolling the virtues of Captain Aaron Pierce, the man came off as a veritable saint.
When the men were finally ready for their port, Juliet was ready to climb out of her skin. So she quickly said good night to the others and started back to her chambers, prepared to forget the night all together. As she climbed the stairs, memories of her childhood days in this house washed over her. It was going to take a lot of effort to get The Chase back to where it should be. It was the ancestral home of the Duke of Prestwick, but it looked like a pile of rubbish.
When she turned the corner toward her room, Hugh was standing before her, blocking her way. “I thought you might want to go for a walk, Jules.”
Her night only wanted for this! She narrowed her eyes to little slits. “Hugh St. Claire, I have been as polite as I am able, but my patience has worn thin. I don’t want to go for a walk with you. I don’t want to reminisce with you. I don’t want you to touch me. In fact, I’d prefer not to see you at all. Have I made myself quite clear?”
His blue eyes seemed black in the dimly lit hall, but he nodded curtly. “I believe I understand you perfectly well. Very sorry to have bothered you.” Then he brushed past her and disappeared around a corner.
Juliet took a deep breath. She hated being here, seeing these people. And she just wanted to go home, sleep in her own bed, and never leave London again.
***
Juliet stayed in bed the next two days, blatantly refusing to leave. It was a bit childish on her part, but the only place she seemed safe from her relations was sequestered in her room. She didn’t read. She didn’t sleep. She didn’t eat. She just laid there and felt sorry for herself. And she missed Luke more and more.
Finally on the third morning, Althea breezed into her room with a steaming pot of tea. “Papa says this will help you feel better.”
Nothing could do that. Juliet forced a smile to her lips and sent her cousin away. The she rolled over on her side to look out the window. Two skylarks had been chirping all morning long, and their cheerful song was the only thing that lightened her heart. Just as she was about to doze off, Georgie blazed through her door without even knocking.
“All right. This has gone on long enough. Out of bed.” When Juliet grumbled and refused to move, Georgie stormed over to the bed and threw off the counterpane. “Honestly, Juliet, this isn’t like you. I’ve never known you to just…give up like this.”
“I don’t feel like it, Georgie. I just want to be left alone.”
“Well, you’ve had that for two days. I will not allow you to continue this sulking over Luke Beckford, of all people. So get up and get dressed.”
Then Georgie pulled her to the edge of the bed. When Juliet’s feet found the floor, she frowned but stood up and made her way to the wardrobe. She selected a jonquil colored muslin and stomped over to the changing screen. Heaven forbid Georgie catch site of her bruise again.
She slipped out of her nightrail and thought she heard something fall in the room, but she paid it very little attention. “I don’t know why you can’t just leave me be. I didn’t want to come here in the first place and you well knew it. So don’t blame me, if you don’t like the way I spend my time here, Georgie.” She continued in that vein until she pulled her day dress over her head.
Then she stomped back around the changing screen and screamed.
Georgie lay motionless on the floor next to a spilled cup of tea.
Juliet raced to her sister’s side, turning her over. Georgie’s pulse was rapid, more rapid than it should have been. Juliet continued to scream for help, and soon her uncle and cousins stood in the doorway, looking at the scene before them.
Pale, Hugh stumbled backward. “I’ll fetch Dr. Perkins.”
Althea touched Georgie’s head and declared it clammy. Juliet could only watch in horror as Uncle Albert picked her sister up and laid her on Juliet’s bed. “What happened?” he demanded.
“I—I don’t know. I went to change clothes and when I stepped back around the screen she was just lying there.”
Uncle Albert grunted, barked at Althea to clean up the spilled tea, and left the room without another word.
Sixteen
The world will never be the same again
Juliet sat by the bed, holding Georgie’s hand in her own and smoothing her sister’s hair from her forehead. She couldn’t remember ever being so frightened in her entire life. One moment her sister was fine and mothering her, and the next… Juliet shook her head and tried to force away unwelcome thoughts.
“Come on, Georgie. Wake up.”
“F—Fin,” Georgie barely muttered.
Thank God! Juliet felt her heart leap in her chest. Now, if only she’d open her eyes. She ran her hand down Georgie’s throat, and panic seized her all over again. She couldn’t find her sister’s pulse. It had been racing before. She must have the wrong spot. She touched under Georgie’s jaw, down the base of her neck, but there was nothing.
Juliet grasped her sister’s wrist and pressed two fingers to her pulse point. Still there was nothing. “No, no, no, no! Stay with me, Georgie. Come on, wake up.”
But she didn’t wake up. And her chest didn’t move. And her pulse didn’t start beating again.
By the time Hugh arrived back at Prestwick Chase with Dr. Perkins, Georgie’s body had long since turned cold. Juliet was hysterical, and the old country doctor adamantly administered a dose of laudanum to calm her nerves.
***
Juliet awoke in an unfamiliar room. She blinked into the darkness, her mouth as dry as cotton. Where was she? Struggling to push up on her weakened arms, she collapsed back to the bed.
Then she took a deep breath and managed to push herself up from the spot. She spied a pitcher on a small table and poured a glass of water, which she gulped down.
She gradually gathered her wits about her, and recognized the small chamber as Georgie’s room. Which must mean that Georgie was still in her room. An overwhelming desire to see her sister set in, because she couldn’t believe that Georgie was gone. It was all just a terrible dream.
She opened the door and ran smack in to the wall of Hugh St. Claire’s chest. She almost screamed, but he placed his finger over her lips. Juliet fumed with anger. She would not be accosted by her own cousin! She beat at his chest with all her worth.
“Shh!” he hissed softly. “Don’t fight me! I’m trying to help you.”
She hit at him anyway. She couldn’t think straight. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and Georgie… Dear God, Georgie was dead! How had such a thing happened? It was unfathomable.
Images of her sister’s cool, lifeless body still lingered in her mind. She doubted they would ever leave. Tears streamed down her face, and she realized that Hugh was shaking her.
“You’ve got to get out of here, Jules. It’s not safe for you.”
She blinked up at her cousin. “What?”
His mouth was drawn up tight, and he hauled her back into Georgie’s chambers. He thrust a small bag into her arms. “Have you got money?”
Juliet peered into the bag and found clothes. Boy’s clothes. Her mind couldn’t keep up and she stared blankly at an old pair of buff-colored breeches.
“Have you got any money?” Hugh’s voice brought her back to the present.
Did she have money? “Yes, of course.” She had a small bag of coins in her reticule.
“Good, because I don’t. Now, listen, Jules. Put those on.” He pointed to the bag in her hands. “Then make your way to the stables and take Thor. He’s not much anymore, but he’s the fastest fellow out there.”
She just shook her head. What was he talking about? “You’re not making any sense.” And her mind was still foggy from the laudanum.
With an anguished sigh, Hugh tucked a loose strand of Juliet’s hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know, Jules. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Father’s not in his right mind. The tea Georgie drank…”
The tea that Althea had delivered to Juliet’s room?
“It was poisoned. He’d meant it for you.”
“For me?” Juliet felt even more limp, and she hadn’t known that was possible. Georgie had died in her stead? That couldn’t possibly be true. No one would do such a thing. Georgie was…Georgie was the only person who had ever cared for her. Their father didn’t care about any of them, and the same could be said for their step-mothers, for the most part. But Georgie…she had kept them all together and loved them. And she couldn’t really be dead! It wasn’t fair.
“Put the clothes on, Jules.” He pointed her to the changing screen and turned his back on her while she did as he asked. “He always felt the title had been ripped from him by Edmund, that it was his birthright. I think you know that. But as the years passed, what he cared most about was money. Your money. He felt it should have been your mother’s dowry. That it belonged to the St. Claire family, not you alone.”
Juliet slipped out of her nightrail and pulled the breeches up over her hips, as she listened in stunned silence.
“He thought I could woo you, and he could gain control of your funds if you married me.”
A shocked gurgle escaped her and she covered her mouth, as Hugh turned around and caught her eye through the changing screen.
“I told him that wouldn’t work. But, well, he was convinced that you’d been compromised in London, and that I had a fair shot of winning you. That no one else would have you.”
How in the world had he come to that conclusion?
“Keep dressing,” Hugh bit out, as a blush settled on his cheeks and he turned around again.
“Why would he think such a thing?” Juliet pulled the boy’s shirt over her head and began tucking it into the waistband of her pants.
“That you’d been compromised or that I could win you?”
Through the screen, she saw his shoulders sag as he asked the question, and she shrugged. “That I’d been compromised?”
He took a deep breath. “Althea has been eavesdropping on your conversations with Georgie.” Hugh turned around to face her again. “Tell me, Jules, that this man—this Luke—didn’t hurt you. Althea said you had bruises.”
She flushed a deep red. She could feel it on her face. “I slipped, Hugh. Luke would never…” She was going to say that Luke would never hurt her, but that would have been a lie. It was just that the wounds he left, no one could see with their eyes.
“Are you done?” he asked anxiously.
Juliet pulled on a jacket that was too large, though it hid her shape remarkably well. Then she stepped around the changing screen, her stockinged feet padded across the ancient rug. “Where am I to go like this?”
He handed her an old pair of boots. “Somewhere safe. You have friends you can go to? Somewhere he can’t find you? To this Luke, perhaps?”
The last person in the world she could go to was Luke. “Somewhere he can’t find me?” she repeated numbly.
“He’ll kill you, Jules. And with Georgie gone, there’s no one to keep him from taking control of Edmund and your fortune. Edmund is your heir, isn’t he?”
Juliet’s lungs seized as that horrible thought engulfed her. Then Hugh stepped forward and steadied her with his arm. “Take Thor into Derby then you can catch the mail coach all the way to London. It’s the fastest way. I’d go with you, but… Well, then he’d know I helped you, and my life might as well be over.”
Juliet found herself nodding, though she’d never felt so completely lost before. Hugh handed her a cap. “Keep your curls hidden. No one will be looking for a boy.”
Again she nodded, as numbness stole over her body.
“I’ll throw the counterpane over some pillows, make it look like you’re sleeping. Or grieving. I’ll buy you as much time as I can. Where’s your money?”
Juliet scrambled over to her valise and removed her beaded reticule. After she handed it to Hugh, he extracted the coin purse and wrapped it around her waist with a belt. “Keep your jacket over this. Don’t let anyone see it. Take a few coins out before you reach the posting inn to pay for the fare.”
Remorse washed over her. Hugh St. Claire was the last person she would have ever expected help from. “Hugh., thank you,” she whispered.
He softly brushed his lips over hers, completely taking Juliet by surprise. “Be safe, Jules.” Then he pushed her out into the darkened hallway.
***
Luke frowned into his whiskey, his legs kicked up in front of the large grate in the library at Saddleworth Hall. Something wasn’t right. He could just feel it in the pit of his stomach.
