Page 100 of After the Abduction

If it wasn’t her family, it was a simpering girlfriend or a gossipy matron. And the men came sniffing around her skirts, too. Sebastian disliked that intensely. From what she’d said about suitors, he’d erroneously believed they were all lacking, but quite a few were too handsome and eligible for his peace of mind.

Of course, Juliet, being not easily prone to forgiveness, paid most of them little heed. After all, they’d been the first to shun her after Montfort’s initial tales, so she clearly wasn’t about to countenance their suits now.

But she did allow one man close—that blasted Havering. Apparently, ever since Havering had stood by her during her disgrace, he’d risen in her esteem. Sebastian had to remind himself often that the man was too stupid for her to be genuinely attracted to him. That was the only thing that kept Sebastian from lunging for Havering’s throat whenever the man took her to the dance floor or fetched her pelisse or brought her negus at parties.

His reaction to Havering plagued him. Sebastian couldn’t believe he was actually jealous. He’d never been jealous before, mostly because he’d never had a woman he felt possessive about. It was a singularly unpleasant sensation. He wondered how his father had ever flitted from woman to woman. One tiny female was tying Sebastian into knots—he couldn’t fathom suffering this misery with a succession of them.

Nor did he intend to let Juliet inflict it on him anymore. So tonight he lay in wait for her at Lady Brumley’s card party, determined to get her alone. He’d come prepared, too. He’d uncovered Havering’s main weakness—a fondness for cockfighting—and had learned the dates and times of all the matches. A few choice words to Havering about tonight’s “fight of the season” had sent the young lord racing off to the Royal Cockpit for an exciting evening of bloodletting and mayhem.

Sebastian intended his own exciting evening, of a decidedly different sort.

He spotted his quarry the second she entered Lady Brumley’s massive salon, which had been turned into a card room for the evening. Tonight, Juliet wore some green satin confection that swirled about her slender form like the sea mist from which Aphrodite had arisen. Pearl pins adorned the hair that foamed in golden curls about her face, and pearls encased her lovely throat.

His heart flipped over in his chest. By thunder, she was beautiful. There were women here dressed more richly, with finer features and more buxom figures, but only Juliet was perfection.

Even the entrance of her blasted family a few seconds behind her couldn’t dampen his enthusiasm. Sebastian had planned for that, too, by paying a furtive visit to Lady Rosalind today to ask her assistance in getting Juliet alone. He’d told her he wanted the chance to propose marriage. Which was almost the truth.

But his secret weapon came in the most unlikely form—their hostess herself, Lady Brumley. The battle-ax had been eager to help him once she’d heard that a secret romance was involved.

With one of her signature nautical headdresses perched atop her gray head, Lady Brumley now wended her way across the room. When she reached Juliet, she attached herself to the young woman like a barnacle. A few moments later, Rosalind pulled Griff off to a card game.

Congratulating himself for choosing such worthy allies, Sebastian shoved away from the pillar he’d been holding up and headed for his quarry. Two other gentlemen reached Juliet first, but Lady Brumley quickly dispatched them to card tables. Some chit tried to strike up a conversation with the ladies, but she, too, was sent on her merry way. By the time Sebastian sauntered up, Juliet still stood alone except for Lady Brumley.

The matron greeted him with a smile and a wink. “Ah, Lord Templemore, I have found you a partner at last.”

Juliet whirled around with an almost comical expression of dismay.

“You see, Lady Juliet,” Lady Brumley went on, “poor Lord Templemore spent so many years away from good society that he never learned to play cards. Imagine that! But I’ve discovered he’s rather fond of chess, and I promised to secure him a partner.”

Juliet glared daggers at him, and he met it with a look of perfect innocence. She wasn’t the only one who could be devious.

Lady Brumley patted Juliet’s hand. “I’m so delighted that you said you play, too. I should hate to force the poor man to sit in the corner idle all evening.”

“Yes, what a crime that would be,” Juliet said coolly.

Despite her frigid air, he knew he had her trapped. Juliet’s one unfailing characteristic was good manners and an inability to be rude to anyone but him. So it was a foregone conclusion that Lady Brumley’s request for Juliet to “entertain the poor man” at chess would be met with terse agreement. Sebastian offered Juliet his arm, then tried not to gloat as she was forced, under their hostess’s watchful eye, to take it.

“I even have a special table set aside,” Lady Brumley went on. She pointed across the room to an alcove separated from the other guests’ tables by a low wall and a post.

Sebastian had tried to talk Lady Brumley into putting the table in a private room, but she’d told him sternly that she wasn’t in the business of arranging seductions. So he’d settled for the alcove. At least it afforded them some measure of privacy.

“Now that Lord Templemore is settled,” Lady Brumley said, “I must go see about poor Miss Childs. She’s complaining about the quality of my wine again. Such a vexing young woman.” With that, Lady Brumley bustled off.

“I’ll tell you who’s vexing,” Juliet muttered under her breath as soon as the marchioness was gone. “Scheming hostesses, that’s who.”

“I rather like them, myself.” He led her toward the alcove, his heart pounding foolishly at the prospect of having her all to himself.

“You would. And I daresay you had a hand in this particular scheme.”

He didn’t even bother to deny it. “You gave me no choice. You’re never at home when I call, you won’t answer my notes, and you surround yourself with fawning admirers in public.” Despising how peevish he sounded, he forced a smile to his face. “You’re clearly worried that if you let me close, I’ll convince you to change your mind.”

“No, I’m merely busy enjoying myself with companions who find me interesting and fun. As opposed to you, who find me ‘childish’ and unreasonable.”

“I did not call you—” He broke off, tamping down his irritation. He would not let her put him on the defensive this time. “Yes, I suppose you would prefer a mooncalf like Havering, who lets you tromp all over him. You never did like a challenge.”

She stuck her chin out. “I’m not afraid of you. I’ll meet any challenge you offer.”

“Excellent. Because I look forward to a rousing game of chess, and it would be spoiled if you were cowering in the corner.”