Page 53 of After the Abduction

“You will not!” boomed a voice from the doorway. She looked up to find Sebastian standing there, his face alight with anger. “You won’t suffer any of that ever again. I give you my word.”

Chapter 11

Let my heart be wise.

It is the gods’ best gift.

Euripides’ Medea, worked on a handkerchief by Juliet Laverick

Sebastian stepped into the room, her words ringing in his ears—the groping hands and improper advances of unfeeling blackguards. By thunder, men were treating her in this barbarous fashion? Because of him? He’d thought from her inexperienced kissing and naiveté that she’d never endured such improprieties, but it seemed he was wrong.

How could Knighton have let it continue so long? Why hadn’t he come here before? If Sebastian had possessed any idea of what was going on in London…

But he hadn’t known, of course. Mentions of her in the papers had always been respectful: “Lady Juliet Laverick was seen at the opera house” or “One member of the party was Lady Juliet.” Never a bad word was spoken of her.

All the same…“I’ll make sure no one harms you, do you hear?” he repeated. “I’ll put an end to any gossip, I swear.”

A flush of anger darkened her features as she leaped to her feet. “Oh? And how shall you do that?”

By marrying you, by laying claim to you so no man ever dares touch you or speak ill of you again. He didn’t dare say it aloud. Yet. “You needn’t worry how. I will, I promise. There won’t be the tiniest breath of scandal attached to your name when you return to London.” When his uncle rose and seemed about to speak, Sebastian shot him a quelling glance. “I’ll take care of it personally. You have my word.”

Uncle Lew’s gaze met his, no doubt trying to determine Sebastian’s intentions. There’d be plenty of time later to explain how things had changed.

In the meantime, Sebastian had much to say to Juliet privately, much to learn after her astonishing comments to his uncle. And the only way to do that was to whisk her off. His gaze snapped back to her. “You’d best come along.”

She hesitated, her gaze flying to his uncle in mute appeal. It irritated Sebastian that she’d tried to attach Uncle Lew as her ally. And deuce take it, what had they discussed before he came?

“Knighton was standing outside Charnwood Hall when we rode up,” Sebastian added. “He was furious.”

Instantly, her hesitation turned to alarm. “Oh dear, Rosalind didn’t tell him where we’d been, did she?”

“No,” Sebastian answered, “but—”

“Where had you been?” his uncle asked.

Sebastian figured he’d best let Juliet answer that.

“It’s…complicated.” She flashed Uncle Lew an apologetic smile. “I have to go. Thank you for the informative discussion. I do hope we can finish it some time.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I’ll show you out,” he murmured and started forward.

With a scowl, Sebastian took her arm. “Don’t trouble yourself, Uncle.”

Wise man that Uncle Lew was, he knew better than to go against Sebastian’s wishes in this devilish situation. “Very well,” the man said curtly, then sank down on the settee.

Sebastian led her into the hall as he considered which room would suit a private discussion. He’d rather have it here at Foxglen, where she couldn’t easily escape him.

As soon as they were out of earshot, she tried to remove his hand from her arm, but he wouldn’t let go. “So what did Griff say?” she snapped. “Did he demand to know where we’d been? How did Rosalind respond? Is he waiting for me to confirm her claims?”

He spotted the door to the conservatory at the other end of the hall and quickened his pace. “He doesn’t even know you were with us. She told him you were sick.”

They’d reached the conservatory. When he opened the door, a blast of fecund warm air hit them. He hurried her inside. “The last time I saw them, they were heading in to breakfast, and he seemed satisfied by her tale that we’d ridden over to visit my uncle.”

She stared about her in confusion at the riot of flowering hibiscus, ferns, and potted palms in the round, glass-ceilinged room. As he closed the door behind her, she whirled around. “You said Griff was furious—”

“He was. But he isn’t now. I merely wanted to talk to you.”

It took a second for his words to register, and a second more for her to realize they were alone together for the first time since yesterday. Then her eyes widened to panic. Without pausing to berate him, she darted around him and reached for the doorknob. He planted his hand against the door before she could even open it.