Page 91 of Juliet's Touch

“We will do our best,” Mother said. “Right, Dudley?”

Father nodded. “I suppose so.”

“If you want me to tell you things, I have to be able to trust you,” Juliet said, her tone deadly serious.

“You can trust us,” Father said. “Right, Theodosia?”

“Yes,” Mother said. “You girls are the most important thing in the world to us.”

Since this is what Juliet needed to hear, and probably because she didn’t want there to be more secrets than necessary, she continued. “I shouldn’t have knowledge of this information, but I suspect it will be in the newspapers by tomorrow, and all of London will be talking about it soon.”

“What information?” Father asked.

“When I returned from Emily’s, I went to see Hugh Fletcher to ask him to help me find Knight Roamer. As I explained, the man is heroic, and he saved me. Hugh’s wife, Lady Charlotte, invited me to stay with them last night.”

So far, Juliet had been entirely truthful, but she would have to leave out sleeping in a brothel with Eric. One simply didn’t tell a parent of such things—honesty or not.

“Meanwhile, Mr. Fletcher was already investigating Charles. He followed him to his secret chambers. This is how he discovered his murd…um…murder. He was shot in the chest by a woman he mistreated. He has a history of violence toward women. I am not the only one he abused and threatened.”

The image of Charles’s expression when he realized he’d been shot slammed Juliet’s memory. She whimpered, then swallowed to keep from crying.

“You are safe now,” Mother said.

Juliet focused on Mother’s gentle expression. Of course, she couldn’t mention that Mr. Fletcher helped Abigail escape, because that was not her tale to tell. Or that she’d been held captive and seen the murder. She didn’t want Father’s heart to stop beating or for Mother to have nightmares for the rest of her life.

“Dead? Shot to death?” Father rubbed his brow. “Am I correct in assuming this woman was a…I can’t say the word in front of gently bred ladies. A woman whom he frequented for favors?”

Mother placed both of her hands over her heart. “’Tis all so very horrible.”

“A deuce of an investigator, that Fletcher,” Father said. “They say he can find a pebble on a rocky shore.”

Mother wrinkled her nose. “He may be handsome, but he is also ill-tempered and brooding, not to mention, far beneath Lady Charlotte in status.”

Goodness, what would her mother say when she met Eric?

“You will both keep my secret. Correct?” Juliet asked.

“Of course,” Mother said.

Using his thumb and forefinger, Father pressed his lips together.

“There is more,” Juliet said.

Juliet didn’t miss Mother’s cringe even though she tried to hide it with a smile.

“Go on,” Father said.

“I want to marry a man named Eric Stone.”

“Marry?” Mother asked.

“Who is Eric Stone?” Father asked.

“Eric is your dearest friend’s son,” Juliet added.

Father’s brow furrowed as if he were contemplating dozens of friends. “Which of my friends would that be?”

“Lord Chesterhill.”