Page 22 of After the Abduction

He suppressed a smile. “Yes, Boggs, the silk stockings.”

“We might have trouble with the cravats,” Boggs mused aloud as he hurried off into the dressing room. “It’s been so long since I tied an elaborate one that it may take a few tries. But you must have at least a mathematical or perhaps a Gordian knot. Those are impressive enough, I think, for the superfine, although…”

He ignored Boggs’s dithering, relieved that discussion of his clothing for the day had not only preoccupied his valet, but subdued his reckless John Thomas. By the time Boggs returned with the suit, he was presentable for company again.

It took a good hour for Boggs to dress him, but Sebastian endured it for once. Today of all days, he must look the part. He wasn’t sure how much his wealth influenced Knighton, but anything would help.

Then there was Juliet. His dull attire yesterday had probably contributed to her absurd perception of him as some inept country bumpkin lacking any knowledge of how to please a woman. This would remind her of his position and its responsibilities, which precluded the sort of “reckless” behavior that had attracted her before.

He sobered. It would remind him as well—of his duty to his family and his estate. It might keep him from losing control the next time he was around her.

As soon as Boggs finished, Sebastian headed for the breakfast room, but he’d arisen so late that no one was there. Thank God. He needed time to plan. Might Juliet have told her relations of her conversation with him last night? He didn’t think so, for she’d be loath to admit that she’d met a man alone. And he couldn’t imagine her revealing those kisses they’d shared. Those wholly unwise, incredibly erotic kisses…

He must stop thinking of that! Or of her blasted opinions about it afterward. He scowled. All right, so he hadn’t precisely cut a swath through the available women in society during recent years; that didn’t mean he couldn’t kiss perfectly well, thank you very much.

Besides, he was also the one who’d kissed her the first time, the one who’d “made her heart race and her bones melt.” She’d merely trumped up the memory like females were wont to do. In her mind, “Morgan” became a reckless adventurer sweeping her away with passion, and the respectable brother couldn’t begin to compare.

Next time he had her in his arms, by thunder, he’d show her what a respectable gentleman could do when he set his mind to it.

He released a groan of frustration. What was he thinking? He wasn’t going to have her in his arms again, for God’s sake. He had to steer clear of her—that was absolutely imperative. Why, if Knighton even got wind of any kissing…

Sebastian gritted his teeth. Her family was bound to prove an enormous nuisance, no matter what he did.

The servants brought in his morning toast and jam as usual, and he devoured it, washing it down with a few swallows of tea. Then he strode to his study, hoping to bury himself in work. The sight of Knighton already ensconced there only further dampened his mood. Did the man have nothing better to do than lie in wait for his enemies?

Reining in his agitation, he walked to his desk. “Good morning, Mr. Knighton. My valet informs me that you may be forced to stay a few days at Charnwood Hall.”

At least Knighton looked none too happy about it. “I apologize for the imposition, but my coachman tells me that navigating even the road into town is impossible for the nonce. We must trust to your hospitality awhile longer.”

Knighton certainly didn’t act as if Juliet had put him on his guard. So she must indeed have kept silent, something to be thankful for.

Sebastian smiled as genially as he could manage. “It’s the least I can do. My house is yours, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” Or until I can get rid of you.

Hoping that the conversation was at an end, Sebastian sat down behind his desk, but no such luck. Knighton continued to stand there. With a sigh, Sebastian gestured to a chair. “Please, sir, do tell me what’s on your mind.”

Stiffly, Knighton took a seat. “I have a request, Templemore. I’ve no right to tell you how to behave in your own house, and after my hasty actions yesterday—” He gave a rueful smile. “After yesterday, I’ve no right to tell you much at all. But as Juliet’s present guardian, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay away from my sister-in-law while we’re here.”

The man was nothing if not direct. “Certainly. Whatever you wish.”

Relief shone in Knighton’s face. “Not that I expected you to be running after her. It’s just that all this is difficult enough for her as it is. Despite our interview with you yesterday, she was still insisting that you’re Morgan Pryce last night before dinner.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” he stated coolly, though the weight of impending disaster hovered over his head. Even if she hadn’t told her family of last night’s discussion, she’d apparently tried out her arguments on them beforehand.

Knighton waved his hand dismissively. “No matter what my emotional young sister-in-law may think, I’m not so foolish as to believe that a man of your consequence needs to practice kidnapping. But Juliet…” He shrugged. “This situation has greatly upset her. Seeing the very image of the man who wronged her has brought it all flooding back, and since she can’t witness your brother brought to justice, she wants to use you for that purpose instead. So she deludes herself that you are he.”

“An understandable reaction.” For the child that Juliet once was. But not for the new Juliet. No, she knew precisely what she was about. Or at least she’d known when she’d come to his workshop last night. Fortunately, she’d been swayed by his “adequate” kissing, blast her.

But that was merely a temporary solution. Eventually, they’d all learn the truth—if only when Morgan returned. When that day came, it would be best to be prepared. To know precisely how angry Juliet was and how far she might carry matters. “You might explain, however, why Lady Juliet is so bent on revenge. From what you’ve told me, my brother didn’t actually hurt her, and he left her chaste.”

A grim guilt suffused Knighton’s face. “We really don’t know what he did.”

Did the man feel responsible for the kidnapping? After all, it was revenge on Knighton that Crouch had been after.

Knighton went on coolly. “We can only rely on her word for the tale, and while she insists that your brother never touched her, I find that hard to believe.”

Sebastian stiffened, all the more because Knighton was right to be suspicious. “My brother’s a gentleman, sir.”

“He kidnapped her. That’s not gentlemanly behavior in any society I know of.”