Page 43 of After the Abduction

“Then why won’t he let me do what I must to fix my body?”

“Probably because he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with your body that time won’t cure.” When Rosalind scowled, Juliet added, “Besides, this mare’s milk concoction you’re taking doesn’t even work and could be dangerous. Griff’s right about that much, and Lord Templemore says so, too.”

Rosalind looked shocked. “You talked to him about me and Griff?”

“No! I mean, not exactly. Mostly we discussed his parents. Until he and Morgan came along, his mother also had trouble conceiving. She went five years before finding herself with child.”

Judging from the sudden light in Rosalind’s eyes, Juliet had finally snagged her interest. “What happened?”

Juliet related what Sebastian had told her and explained his offer.

“A wise woman? I’ve heard of such people living in the provinces.” She mused a moment, then sat up straighter. “I’m willing to try it. But I can’t tell Griff. He’s still convinced I’m overreacting. He’ll never agree to it. The wretch is so bloody pigheaded.”

Black pots and kettles came instantly to Juliet’s mind. “If this plan is to work,” Juliet said, “you’ll have to convince him that you’re through with your bout of temper. Or you’ll never be able to sneak away.”

Rosalind nodded, her clever mind undoubtedly working at some plan already.

“That means you must apologize,” Juliet prodded.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosalind stood. “I suppose so.” She turned her sharp gaze on Juliet. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you invented this tale of a wise woman just to make Griff and me stop fighting.”

Juliet grinned. “But you know I’m not that devious.”

“Humph, I’m not so sure.” Rosalind crossed her arms over her chest. “And did you lie about Lord Templemore’s kissing you?”

She only wished she had. Hiding her face, Juliet stood. “I had to get in here somehow, didn’t I?” She headed for the door, hoping Rosalind didn’t continue her inquisition further. “Now come along. Griff is waiting for you downstairs.”

With a heavy sigh, Rosalind rose to follow her.

Juliet opened the door. “I know your husband’s highhanded pronouncements have put your back up, but you do realize he’d do anything for you, don’t you? This whole thing has him very upset. He even said he was afraid of losing you.”

“Losing me! How ridiculous. Who’s overreacting now?” Rosalind swept past Juliet and through the doorway. “It was just a little harmless remedy.”

“Sheep’s urine?” Juliet said dryly as she hurried to catch up with her sister.

Rosalind made a face. “Well, I’ll admit that the urine sounded a bit…questionable, but Mr. Arbuthnot said it’s been used for centuries.”

“Urine was used to clean castles for centuries, too, but that doesn’t mean I want to fill a bucket with it and scrub the walls, especially when there’s soap ready to hand. And to drink it? Ugh!”

A faint smile touched Rosalind’s lips. “You do have a point.” Striding alongside Juliet, she reached up to pat her shoulder. “You’re full of passionate opinions these days, aren’t you? Indeed, you’re turning into quite the little fighter.”

Juliet swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. It was the first time Rosalind seemed to notice she wasn’t a foolish girl anymore. “I’m trying.”

Rosalind squeezed her shoulder. “Well, don’t try too hard,” she joked. “Or before you know it, you’ll be as brazen as me, and that would never do. One outspoken, temperamental female in the family is plenty.”

Chapter 9

Don’t scald your tongue in other people’s broth.

English proverb written on a list once mounted on the Templemore schoolroom wall

The sun had just poked its nose above the horizon the next morning when Sebastian strode down the central staircase of Charnwood Hall. When he realized the foyer was empty, he glanced through the window to the grooms waiting on the front drive. There was no sign of the women.

Before dinner last night, he and Juliet had managed a few words alone, agreeing that the three of them would meet here at dawn. She’d told him that the early hour might help Lady Rosalind escape her husband unnoticed. So where the devil were they?

He paced as his mind settled on another vexing subject. Yesterday’s encounter with Juliet might have been rash, given that Knighton had nearly caught them, but it had proved one crucial fact. No matter what she protested about his kissing, she was attracted to him. Him, Sebastian. Not his other self, “Morgan.”

Because if she hadn’t been, she would have told Knighton of his advances, then watched in glee as Knighton strung him up. No, she had feelings for him.