A Scandalous Charade (Scandalous Series, BOOK 2), page 20
There was a young man already in the room, and he stood when they entered the parlor, looking quizzically at the uncle.
But Luke paid him very little attention. He was lost in his memories. On his second trip to Prestwick House all those many weeks ago, Juliet had been silhouetted against the window and Georgie sat on the settee, knitting. A chill crept over his body, realizing that scene would never be duplicated again. What he wouldn’t give to have Juliet here, standing sentry against the window. He was certain she must be devastated over Georgie’s death and must have need of him.
“They never would have made the trip to Derbyshire if it wasn’t for you,” the uncle stated firmly.
“Father!” the young man whispered reproachfully.
That snapped Luke back to the present and glared at the older man. “I beg your pardon? And who exactly are you?”
The man finally smiled, though it was more of a sneer. “Lord Albert St. Claire, the head of this family.”
Oh. Luke winced. The man probably did have reason to distrust him then. He tried to sound placating. “Who went to Derbyshire?”
Lord Albert sighed and dropped to the settee, on which Georgie had once droned on about Mrs. Wilcox’s gout. “My nieces foolishly left London at a blistering pace after you ruined Juliet. Apparently the trip was too much for Georgina, who became sick along the way. After reaching Prestwick Chase, she succumbed to the illness and passed away.”
“Dear God,” Luke whispered in horror. It was just too hard to believe she was gone.
“And then Juliet disappeared. Probably to run from the shame you brought upon her.”
“Disappeared?” Luke roared. What the devil did he mean by that?
Lord Albert glowered at him. “I thought perhaps she’d run back to you, little whore that she is. But I don’t think you’d be here now if that was the case. Nevertheless, we’ll find her.”
Luke wanted to tear Lord Albert from limb to limb. How dare he say such awful things about Juliet? She wasn’t a whore! Her only crime was in loving Luke, which should have made her a saint. And she was missing? Adrenaline began pounding through his veins. “Where could she be?” he whispered to himself, though the old nobleman heard it.
“As I said, we’ll find her. She recently sent Carraway a note, saying that she was staying with friends and she’d know when he returned and come for Edmund. So she must be somewhere near London. I have men looking for her as we speak.”
Somehow Lord Albert’s reassurances didn’t make Luke feel better. He felt as if he was going to be sick. But he nodded his head anyway. “Thank you for telling me.”
Then he started for the door. He couldn’t stay here any longer.
“You don’t know which friends she’d go to for help, do you?”
Lord Albert’s words stopped Luke in his tracks. Juliet didn’t have friends. Not really. She’d been friendly with Miss Clarke at his behest. And she rubbed along well with Caroline, but truly his sister was Georgie’s friend. But even if he knew of someone, he’d search those places himself. He didn’t trust Lord Albert as far as he could throw him. If someone was to find Juliet, it was going to be him.
***
Hugh had watched the little display with a heavy heart. He had so hoped that Juliet had been with this Luke Beckford, but that was evidently not the case. The man was clearly devastated. No one was that good an actor. He obviously cared for Juliet.
Hugh turned his attention to his father. “Why didn’t you mention Dorset?” The letter Lord Albert had absconded with from Lord Carraway’s had mentioned friends in Dorset. It was possible Luke Beckford might know who that was. And though Hugh was appalled that his father had stolen the letter for the viscount, he was relieved to know that she was safe—wherever she was.
His father was frowning at him. “Are you truly that incompetent, Hugh? Mr. Beckford is the last person I want to have that piece of information. He’s not the sort that would help us, and appears to genuinely care for that little bitch. So the last thing I need is to involve him in looking for Juliet.”
***
Luke found himself staring at his sister’s Curzon Street door. He’d been standing there for probably ten minutes, but still he hadn’t knocked. He wasn’t afraid of seeing Caroline, but he was still trying to come to terms with everything Lord Albert had told him. And having a very difficult time in doing so.
Then suddenly the door opened and David, Viscount Staveley, stood before him. His stuffy brother-in-law was of average height and light brown hair. He always wore wire-rimmed spectacles and simple, unadorned coats. Caroline was lavish, but Staveley was plain. His brother-in-law’s brow furrowed when he saw him, and for a moment Luke thought Staveley might thrash him over the puppy debacle. What a lifetime ago that seemed now.
“Dear God, Beckford! Why are you just standing in the rain?” Staveley asked in surprise.
Rain? Luke looked down at his coat, surprised to see that he was soaked through to the skin. How the devil had he not noticed that? “I—um—I’ve just come from Prestwick House.” As if that statement should explain everything.
Apparently it explained enough, as Staveley stepped aside and dragged him into the entryway. He looked back at Merton, concern etched upon his face. “Please fetch her ladyship. And then we’ll need some strong tea in the parlor.”
Staveley draped his arm around Luke’s wet middle and ushered him into his white parlor. Luke must be in a daze. He and Staveley had never seen eye to eye, and it was a bit disconcerting to have his brother-in-law suddenly doting on him.
“Sit. Sit.” Staveley directed him with a wave of his hand.
His coat still dripping wet, Luke shook his head. “Caroline will kill me if I ruin one of her chairs.”
His brother-in-law snorted at that. “Please! She’ll just spend more of my money getting new ones made. Sit, Beckford. You look as if you’re about to fall over.”
Luke shrugged out of his coat, dropping it next to a chintz chair and followed his brother-in-law’s advice. Staveley’s eyes never left him, and Luke figured he must look as pitiful as he felt. “Georgie’s dead? And Juliet’s missing?”
Staveley took a spot on the gold and white brocade settee and inclined his head. “Unfortunately, that appears to be true.”
Tears welled up in Luke’s eyes. Hearing Staveley confirm it made it more real. The other awful things Lord Albert had said still echoed in his mind. Did everyone know about Juliet’s ruination? And if so, how? He had promised her that no one would ever know. He braved a glance at his brother-in-law and took a deep breath. “Is Juliet ruined?”
Staveley looked surprised at the question and shook his head. “I don’t understand what you’re asking. I suppose she could be ruined, it all depends on where she is—who she’s with.”
“Who is ruined?” Caroline’s voice came from the open doorway, Merton right behind her with tea. Then when her eyes fell to Luke’s disheveled state, she rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Darling, what’s happened to you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke choked out.
“Tell you what, Lucas?”
He frowned at her, and shook his head in disbelief. “Juliet,” was all that came out of his mouth.
Caroline grasped his hands and held them tightly in her own. Her hazel eyes started to pool with tears. “Darling, I didn’t even know where you were. How should I have contacted you? Besides, what would you have done?”
He didn’t know the answer to those questions, so he just stared blankly at his sister. “I was in Yorkshire.”
“Well, there’s not a lot you could have done from there anyway.” She smiled supportively.
He should never have gone. He shouldn’t have run from her. For all the nasty things Lord Albert said, he was right on that score. It was Luke’s fault. If he hadn’t run, if he’d worked through his feelings for Juliet, then she’d never have gone to Derbyshire. Georgie wouldn’t have taken ill from the travel. And Juliet…Juliet would still be here. With him.
“I’ve got to find her.”
Caroline frowned at that and rose to her feet. “You know how resilient she is. I’m sure she’s fine.” Then she walked over to the tea service and began to pour. “Besides, darling, I’m certain you’re the very last person she’d want to see anyway.”
Fury began to build inside him, and Luke felt his face turn red. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded as his sister handed him a cup.
“It means,” she started, her voice a bit chillier than normal as she sank into a chair across from him, “that you broke that poor girl’s heart, Lucas. It means that I saw the aftermath of your little fling, and it wasn’t pretty. Juliet was in love with you, and, well, she’s not the same girl anymore. I’d just be surprised if she wanted to see you, is all.”
“Caroline,” Staveley remarked reproachfully, “I don’t think now is the time for that. He doesn’t quite seem himself.”
Never in his wildest imaginations would Luke have thought that Staveley would come to his defense. Especially against Caroline. And how exactly did his sister know what Juliet wanted? Had she seen her? Was Caroline the friend she was staying with? “Where is she, Caro? Where is Juliet?”
A nervous laugh escaped his sister’s throat. “How would I know?”
“I think you’re her friend. The one her uncle is convinced she’s staying with in London.”
“Albert St. Claire is a fool,” Caroline replied angrily.
Staveley shook his head. “Lord Albert has already been by, Luke. Lady Juliet isn’t here. My wife may be a bit meddlesome, but she would never harbor the girl from her family. Neither would I.”
Luke felt sick. How could no one know where she was? How could his sister not know? She made it her business to know everything—irritatingly so, most of the time.
The idea that his princess was out there, all alone, dealing with Georgie’s death made his heart ache.
Staveley rose from his seat and smiled at his wife. “If you’ve got this under control, sweetheart, I’ll be off. I’m sure James and Alexander are wondering what’s happened to me.”
Caroline stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”
“I love you too.” Staveley caressed Caroline’s back and then tipped his head toward Luke. “I’m sure Lady Juliet is fine, Beckford. She’s a smart girl.”
Luke forced a smile to his lips and nodded in response. “Cheers, Staveley.” Once they were alone, Luke roughly rubbed his hands across his brow and turned his attention back to his sister. “Someone has to know where she is, Caroline.”
“Well, I’m sure someone does,” she answered with a slight edge to her voice. “What would you do if you found her?”
That was a very good question. What would he do? He didn’t want to live without her anymore. He wanted her by his side every hour of everyday. But convincing her of that would take a miracle, especially after all the events of the last few weeks. His desertion. Georgie’s death. And whatever else he didn’t know. “I don’t know.”
His sister smiled tightly. “Well, when you figure that out, why don’t you tell me?”
Luke narrowed his eyes on Caroline. Suspicion crept in. It seemed as if she knew more than she was saying, and she hadn’t come out and denied knowing where Juliet was. She’d been very crafty with her selection of words. “You know where she is.”
She crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Where do you get these ideas? Honestly, Luke, have you ever known Staveley to lie? Feel free to search the place if you like.”
No. Staveley wouldn’t lie. He was as straight an arrow as they came. Luke rubbed his temples. If he’d known about Juliet earlier, he would have… What would he have done? How was he in any better shape now than he would have been a sennight ago? “Albert St. Claire says she left a note for Carraway, saying she’d come for Edmund after they arrive back in England. He thinks she’s somewhere close. But damn it, Caroline, she doesn’t have any friends she’d go to for help. None that I can think of.”
“If she’d come to me, I would have helped her. She’s lost Georgie, and I intend to fill that role for her in the future. And in doing so, I’ll protect her—even from you. So bear that in mind. If you find her and hurt her again, Lucas, you won’t be welcome here anymore. Not to see me. Not to see the children.”
He stared at his sister in disbelief. She was notorious for berating him, but she’d never once threatened to bar him from her person.
Caroline thrust out her chin and continued, “I swore to Georgie that you would never hurt Juliet, and I was wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. That girl doesn’t have anyone left to look after her, not anymore.”
Luke dropped his head in his hands. “I swear to you, Caroline, I didn’t intend to hurt her. I didn’t intend to fall in love with her either. I just needed time to sort things out in my mind. Which is why I went to Yorkshire in the first place. Then I returned home to this.”
Caroline quietly sat on the settee and kept her eyes steady on him. “You really love her?”
He smiled sadly. Of course that was the first thing Caroline latched onto. Luke took a huge breath. There was no point denying it—not to her. She was probably one of the few people who would understand anyway. “More than anything.”
Caroline frowned and studied him for a long moment before she finally spoke. “You should go home to Gosling Park, Luke.”
He scoffed at the suggestion. “Why they devil would I want to see Robert?” Truly that was the last place on earth he’d want to be.
She stood up and started for the door, throwing a look over her shoulder at him. “Don’t be dense. Go. To. Gosling. Park.”
***
Caroline saw what she hoped was understanding in her brother’s eyes. She hadn’t come out and told him Juliet was at Gosling Park. Besides she wasn’t there yet, so she hadn’t broken her promise. Not technically. Miss Mitford and the children were still at Masten House for a few more days. But she couldn’t risk sending Luke there, not with Albert St. Claire in Town. It would be better for them to interact in Dorset, away from the bustle of Town. They loved each other, of that she was certain. So they just needed a little help finding their way back to one another.
Robert would probably berate her if he found out she sent Luke there, especially as things were so fragile with Lydia at the moment. But Caroline was certain that everything would be for the best. Luke wouldn’t interfere with Robert and Lydia’s budding romance, and Robert would be too busy fawning over his wife to notice Luke and Juliet.
It was perfect.
Caroline just wished she could be there herself.
Twenty
Emerald Pendants and Sapphire Hair Pins
Luke flew through the doors to his rooms in Piccadilly. Juliet was in Gosling Park. Caroline might as well have yelled it from the rafters. Though what his princess was doing at his ancestral home, he didn’t have a clue. And if she was there with Robert, his brother was probably poisoning her mind ever more against him. He’d never been a choir boy, and Robert had often had to clean up the messes Luke had created. He needed to get to Dorset quickly.
There was a mountain of correspondence waiting for him, and Luke frowned at the pile inside his front door. Before Juliet had entered his life, he could have been gone from home for a year and he wouldn’t have had this much to go through. Invitations were strewn left and right, but something caught his attention—a calling card. He picked it up from the pile and turned it over in his hand and stared at a scrawled note on the back. Mr. Cooper, a Bow Street Runner, wanted to discuss the theft of Louisa Ridgemont’s emerald pendant with him. What the devil was that about?
Then his heart thudded as he recognized the Masten crest on one letter. Robert rarely sent him any correspondence. Did it have something to do with Juliet? He discarded the Bow Street calling card and tore open the note from his brother.
Lucas,
I am starting back for Gosling Park in the morning, but tonight I received a disturbing visit from Mr. Cooper of Bow Street. I do not presume to understand what would have possessed you to take Lady Ridgemont’s emerald pendant, but you will return it with great haste. Aside from being extremely disappointed in your actions, I do not appreciate having to deal with your scurrilous activities. Pray see to it that I do not have to do so in the future.
Masten
It was in the same vein as most of Robert’s letters, which was why Luke usually chose to ignore his brother’s missives. It did not surprise him that Louisa had invented some wild tale to get his attention, but he did frown at the fact that she’d involved a detective from Bow Street. Truly, what did she expect to gain from this little display?
However, Louisa had unknowingly helped him gain entrance to Gosling Park. He folded Robert’s letter and stuffed it into his pocket. This was his ticket to Juliet.
***
All things considered, Luke made fairly good time to his brother’s seaside estate in Dorset. As his coach got closer and closer, he could taste the salt in the air. Funny, that always took him back to his childhood. To racing Caroline across the north lawn. Watching ships travel back and forth across the coast. Hearing his mother’s lilting voice. No matter where he ended up, Gosling Park would always be home.
As his coach rolled to a stop, Luke looked through the curtains at the massive medieval castle that loomed above him. He smiled up at the vine covered tower that was closest to his position on the circular drive. It had been so long since he’d been home that he’d forgotten how foreboding it appeared. Growing up here, he hadn’t appreciated the sheer magnitude of the property. As a boy he’d thought it had been great fun playing in the keep, the courtyard, and the towers.
Before he entered the castle, there was someplace he had to go first.
Luke had always loved the gardens at Gosling Park and he made his way there. The gardens reminded him of his mother, and he’d swear her spirit still resided amongst her beloved flowers. She had been beautiful with golden locks, clear green eyes, and the face of an angel—he was the only one of her children that favored her. She was so young when she’d died, and Luke was just a small child, but he could still remember her kneeling over her flowering bushes, clipping off dead ends, and caressing her roses, careful not to touch any thorns.
